adj. having or showing a great desire to possess something, typically something belonging to someone else.

Part II of the Serendipity Series

*****

"Please," Emma whined, writhing on her back like a trapped animal.

Well, that's exactly what she was when it came to the infamous Regina Mills. Regina had been completely capable at making Emma feel like she was prey; a gazelle hunted with all the precision and grace of a starving lioness. And, if it wasn't enough, the woman, as infuriating and drop-dead gorgeous as she was, did have one hell of a bite that had Emma squirming like a worm.

Worms couldn't be tied up though: not like Emma was, at least. Her arms were bound above her head in some intricate knot that took the raven-haired woman at least three minutes to make, and her feet were spread, and her legs were tied to mimic that of a frog's-or a swimmer preforming breast stroke. She was virtually immobile, but the blonde couldn't find reason enough to complain: there were many positive aspects to this.

One, for some obscure rationality, Emma enjoyed the feeling of the ropes against her skin: burning and bruising the pale flesh and causing delicious marks/memories that she would be able to look upon and nostalgically remember the night she had spent on Regina's hotel bed.

Two, Emma absolutely treasured seeing how Regina's eyes darkened to a shade of black out of undeniable desire and lust. This was all accomplished by simply tying the younger woman up. If that could arose Regina, how would more intricate things cause her to react- at least that was Emma's logic.

Finally, she knew if she played along with Regina's dominant nature, she would ultimately receive her own pleasure and the privilege, as the older woman stated, of providing pleasure to said woman.Of course, Emma agreed with the woman's point, and not entirely out of obligation. She thoroughly enjoyed eating the woman out, savoring the tang that was Regina Mills. Never would she be capable of forgetting the piquant taste of arousal that she had caused by her obedience and sexual noises.

"Please what, Emma?" Regina chuckled sadistically, keeping the vibrator directly on the blonde woman's clit while her other hand rested on Emma's throat.

Her thumb stroked the soft flesh of her neck, positioned expertly on the spot where the Carotid Pulse is taken, and where breath can be restricted with just enough pressure. To say Regina was tempted to push into the indented skin was obvious to Emma: the woman had made it a habit to asphyxiate Emma when she pleased, specifically when Regina herself and or Emma was on the verge of climax.

Emma sneered at Regina, snarling her upper lip and partially revealing her top row of teeth. As ridiculously sexy and breathtaking as Regina was, especially when she was naked and positioned between the blonde's thighs as she was now, she still could not stand the haughty, superior attitude Regina upheld. Emma despised Regina holier than thou Mills, but she did enjoy Regina I like falling asleep in Emma Swan's arms after we fuck Mills. That Regina had the ability to captivate and capture Emma's heart, if she hadn't already. Yet, Emma would never admit such things aloud. This "Relationship" she had with Regina meant nothing more than business, even though her stupid girl mind and hormones wanted to be with the woman. Regina was able to keep the thing between them semi-professional, so why couldn't Emma? Why did she desire morning-breath kisses and afternoon picnic lunches with this infuriating woman that she had practically nothing in common with?

Tossing her head back into the pillow, Emma sighed, shifting her hips in attempt to alleviate the building pressure she felt between her thighs. "Please let me come, Miss Mills," she murmured, even though it sounded more like "plslemmecome" than anything else.

"Oh dear," the politician chided, clicking her serpent-tongue. "I didn't quite catch that. Please repeat yourself and enunciate your words properly."

Taking a deep breath, the younger woman focused all her efforts on forming a coherent sentence. "Please. Let. Me. Come. Miss. Mills."

She managed to enunciate very well, despite the fact that it took a good minute to say something that would have taken a normal person an average of two seconds. Not only, but her words were choppy and tense. There was no other emotion in them other than irritation and unquestionable focus.

"Sat it nicer. I did not appreciated your tone."

Saying it once more in her best "good girl" voice, Emma was rewarded with the permission to come -twice in fact-, so as she remained reasonably audible due to the one time that someone had pounded against the wall during one of Emma's past orgasms (because this whole thing had been going on for at least three months).

After Emma recollected her composure, the dark haired woman untied the restraints, taking her time as she seemed to savor the feeling of the coarse rope sliding from hand to hand, brushing gently over fingertips. And when Regina finished her elaborate knot untying, she positioned herself on Emma's stomach, legs on either side of the blonde prostitute's abdomen. The politician leaned forward, pressing her lips against the shell of Emma's ear.

"Do you think you deserve my cunt?" she whispered, as if it were some unknown, confidential secret that if it got out, the whole world would blow up, or something.

Shaking her head no, Emma whimpered at the feeling of Regina's arousal drenched slit sliding against her abdomen stopped, then raised, now just hovering over pale skin. Regina leaned away from Emma, taking a moment to appreciate the blonde beauty, just as Emma was doing to the latter.

Raven hair was tussled, usually pouty lips deliciously swollen from stolen kisses between "activities", and exceptionally dark eyes glistening. Regina looked stunning, as usually.  Emma shouldn't be surprised by the woman's beauty any longer, but it seemed like every time she saw the woman, she somehow managed to look even better, whether it be caused by a change of hairstyle for the day, or a different color outfit that caught the shade of her eyes just right. Regina had to have had access to some sort of magic. There was no way someone look that good.

"What a shame," the politician pouted, patronizing the younger woman. "I was certainly looking forward to having that talented, deft tongue on me."

"Please," Emma begged, not needing to further voice her desperate nature: the tone of that one word spoke thousands of phrases intended for begging.

"I suppose I can be generous," Regina laughed heartily, reaching forward and roughly grabbing the younger woman's chin with her thumb and forefinger. "Tell you what, she continued, "if you can tell me the number of times you've made me come in the past week, I will allow you to take me however you'd like. If you guess incorrectly, I'll use one of my toys to get myself off. Do we have a deal?"

Her lips had curved into a sinister grin, and despite that warning sign, Emma took the bait like a fish in a pond.

She thought back carefully, tallying the number of times she felt Regina's walls tighten around her tongue and fingers, how many times she squirmed and screamed like a woman possessed all due to Emma's ministrations.

"Seventeen," Emma finally spoke, completely sure of herself.

"Wrong."

"What?"

Staring dumbfounded as the older woman stood from the bed and stalked to her overnight bag, Emma recounted everything. Three times on Sunday, twice on Monday, four on Tuesday, once on Wednesday, four times on Thursday, three on Friday... that was seventeen.

As if she knew what Emma was doing in her head, Regina chuckled. "And what about today, dear? Saturday is part of the week. Therefore, the total, so far that is, is eighteen."

Damn it, Emma cursed inwardly, scrunching her nose up.

Sure enough, Regina held up her end of the deal, positioning herself directly in front of Emma's face, straddling the blonde's neck with a cute, purple vibrator placed perfectly against her clit. She was so close that Emma could smell the delicious fragrance of the politician's arousal-drenched cunt, and it was beginning to drive her insane. It also did not help that the dark haired woman was mewling and moaning, practically purring like a cat being scratched. Her chest heaved and reddened while dusky nipples erected to beautiful peaks. Regina's head was thrown back in a -rather dramatized- fit of passion, a smirk permanently lining those sinful lips as she moaned, performing for the blonde beneath her.

Biting her lip, Emma continued to memorize the olive-skinned beauty above her, just as she had been doing a lot recently. She noticed how Regina's nostrils flared and eyebrows furrowed as she approached her climax: which was close by the way. It was rather disappointing, but once Regina grunted loudly, tossed the purple toy to the side, and slammed her cunt to Emma's mouth by the roots of blonde hair, Emma began tonguing the woman -slurping as she ate- as if it were her last meal, and it was required that she eat like a ravenous animal. Hips canted against her mouth, generously smearing arousal from the tip of her nose to her bottom lip. It didn't take long after that for the older woman to orgasm, mouth open in a rather noiseless scream, the cords in her neck stretched as her fingers wrapped around Emma's pale neck.

"Such a good, little slut I have," she purred, voice laced with exhaustion as she slid into the bed beside Emma, urging the blonde to curl her more toned and defined body around soft, olive skin.

"Shut up," Emma rasped, licking the arousal off of her lips before doing as the politician expected. Even if she didn't necessarily love the power play between her and Regina, she liked this: this was nice, but it didn't sate the domestic desire that seemed to be growing in the pit of the prostitute's stomach.

Just as Emma had begun to fall asleep, a loud, obnoxious ringing interrupted the domesticated "couple" from their cuddle time before they were forced to part and face the real world the next morning.

She clambered from the bed, instantly regretting her nakedness as a breeze of cool air rushed against her heated skin, causing gooseflesh to bubble over her thighs and forearms. Regina grumbled something like a bear, and, despite the cuteness of the noise, Emma chose to ignore it in favor of answering her cellphone.

"What?" She snapped, keeping her voice low for Regina's sake.

"Emma! Girl, where are you? I just got a customer for you," André exclaimed.

"I told you I was busy tonight. Why couldn't they schedule for tomorrow?"

"You're not busy, but I suppose I can burden Ruby with yet another one of your rejected clients. I don't think that'll make Carmen look good, but I suppose I can sacrifice-"

"Okay stop," Emma interrupted, tired of her friend's guilt trip. Geez, why was she such a soft sap? "I'll take it. Text me the address and I'll be right there."

"Thanks babes!"

The call was ended from there. Emma facepalmed quickly, dropping her phone into her bag and began gathering her clothes.

"You're leaving," a husky voice stated from behind the blonde. There was no question in the tone, it was a statement.

"I have to," the blonde complained, buttoning up her jeans and tossing on her flannel shirt. "I'm so sorry."

Regina rolled over in the bed, facing away from the younger woman. "Whatever. Leave the key on the kitchen table on your way out, Miss Swan."

Emma knew she was in for it now. Regina didn't call her "Miss Swan" unless she was angry with her. She didn't want Regina to be upset, she hated it. When Regina was happy, everyone else was happy. If Regina wasn't happy, everyone better watch out and try their damnedest to make her happy. Regina Mills was not pleasant to be around when she wasn't happy.

"Regina, please-"

"If you'd be so kind, Miss Swan," she hissed, "leave. I would like to get at least six hours of sleep before I have to go to work, and you're hindering that."

"Regina-"

"Leave, Miss Swan!" the politician repeated, body in the same position. "Go do your job."

"You're jealous." the blonde stated as she slipped on her shoes and slung the overnight bag over her back. "You're jealous that I'm going to screw someone else and you can't do a damn thing to stop me." Perhaps Emma was just imagining that, but once she opened the gates, the flood came rushing in. "You can't do anything because you're just a client. You're not in a relationship with me, you have no right to be jealous, but you won't admit it/"

Storming to the door, Emma tossed the key to the floor with a sneer. "So when you're ready to put your ego away and accept the fact that you're jealous instead of pretending that you're not, call me. Until then, don't even think about calling me, or Carmen."

With that, the younger woman slammed the door behind her. She leaned her back against the hotel door, and just as the slam echoed through the hallway, tears flowed from her eyes. What the hell was wrong with her? She definitely just ruined what she had worked so hard to have, what she desired more than practically anything. It was all her fault.

"Stupid girl brain," she murmured to herself, "Stupid girl feelings."

Wiping away her tears, Emma slugged to the elevator and made her way to her client, certainly not pleased with the situation at hand.