Someone Will Remember Us - Swanqueen

Chapter 11

Part of Emma worried that once she and Regina had had sex once and gotten it out of their systems, they would never speak again. She still couldn't completely understand what her professor actually saw in her – she definitely couldn't work out why she was willing to put her entire career on the line for her – so it wouldn't have surprised her at all if Regina had decided to call things quits after she'd finally gotten her fill.

She was wrong, though. If anything, once Regina had gotten a taste of her, it only made her want her more.

Emma woke up to texts from her most days. Nine times out of 10, they were filled with pure, unadulterated filth. She was eternally grateful that Mary Margaret left the dorm early most mornings for her various teaching assistant positions, because when Emma woke up to a text that cheerily informed her 'Good morning, Miss Swan. I had the most wonderful dream where you crept into my bed in the night and woke me up by grinding your pussy against mine. I woke up dripping wet and I've just come all over my fingers thinking about you. I'm still slightly breathless and I wish you were here to guide me through it a second time, so if you'd be interested in trying that some day, so would I', it was absolutely impossible not to groan out loud and fuck herself senseless in response.

The fact that they only had class together on Thursdays didn't matter anymore because for the next week, Emma saw Regina nearly every day. Regina had the most voracious appetite of anyone she'd ever met and every single afternoon at around four o'clock, Regina would call Emma slyly asking if she had any plans that evening. If Emma was already busy, she would sigh and say, "Fine. But I expect you to make it up to me tomorrow." If Emma was free, then Regina would pick her up from an empty corner of campus and pounce on her in the front seat.

Emma's studying immediately took a nosedive because she was spending so much time at Regina's house and letting herself be bent over various pieces of furniture that she barely had time to focus on any of her classes. She didn't care all that much, though. Not when she was falling into a black hole of flirting, sex, secret dinners and king-sized beds, and she got to do it all with Regina's wonderfully dark eyes staring back at her.

It was easy to forget that the rest of the world was carrying on around them. But then, after barely a week, reality came knocking at Emma's door.

She sat blinking at her laptop screen, where her grades from the previous semester had finally been posted. Some technical issue or another had delayed them, and she hadn't even cared because she'd been so preoccupied by Regina's filthy words swirling around her head and her fingers sneaking down the front of her jeans. But now she was faced with a series of letters and numbers – most of them fine, and some of them even good – and her stomach went tight.

Regina had given her a B-. A really fucking low B-.

Emma wondered momentarily what she'd been expecting. She didn't care about classics, after all – she'd been open enough about that. Getting a B wasn't bad, all things considered. But she was right at the bottom end of the scale, barely scraping past a C, and worst of all, she'd tried – she'd tried really hard and she'd even redone the essay when Regina had told her to. Her other assignments had all gone sailing off onto Turnitin with barely a second thought, but her classics paper had been a labour of serious love. She deserved a better grade. She did.

Besides, she was sleeping with the professor. Surely that had to count for something.

Without texting Regina to tell her she was coming, she showed up at her office the next morning and knocked on the door. When she stuck her head inside the room, Regina was wearing her usual frown that was reserved for grading papers and any student who wasn't Emma.