4. Chapter 4

Maggie has always prided herself on figuring out – detecting, one might say – the exact things that the women she’s taken to bed have wanted – needed – most.

Alex Danvers was the first who ever took pride in also figuring out exactly what made Maggie scream the loudest, writhe the wildest, scrape her nails down her back the hardest.

This reciprocity – this enthusiastic, passionate, up-all-night-and-god-everything’s-gonna-be-both-sore-and-worth-it-in-the-morning, because Alex couldn’t seem to ever get enough of pleasing Maggie, couldn’t ever seem to coax her through enough earth-shattering orgasms – this desire that Alex had to please Maggie served to make it that much sweeter, that much hotter, that much happier and that much more pride-inducing, when Maggie took the opportunity to figure out what made Alex cum the hardest.

And she took every opportunity she got.

There was a lot Alex loved – well, everything, really, when it came to Maggie – Maggie’s breath in her ear, her teeth on her neck, her tongue right there, her fingers right oh god – but the thing Maggie was most interested in exploring right now was the way that words, her words, made Alex Danvers beg and whine and whimper and come – and cum – completely and utterly undone.

Maggie first started picking up on Alex’s love, thirst, hunger, raw need, for Maggie’s praise in her ear when her entire body had reacted, hard, when Maggie breathed, “Jesus fuck, Alex, that feels so fucking good.” Alex had screamed into her nipple, then, and her hips had grinded down into Maggie’s, once, hard, like she was so turned on she couldn’t move for a moment. And sure enough, she couldn’t, because she was.

“Just like that, babe, you’re doing such a good job,” Maggie had whined, half for herself and half for the woman between her legs, and Alex had moaned, desperately, the vibrations of her lips humming on Maggie’s clit.

The world didn’t tell Alex enough that she was good, that she was amazing. That she was perfect. Maggie, of course, told her every chance she got. And after Alex screamed like that, moaned like that, moved like that, Maggie decided that the bedroom – and the kitchen, and the bar bathroom, and the DEO lab – should be a place (places) where Alex got all the praise she deserved.

So now, Maggie is struggling to catch her own breath, to compose her own voice, because damn does she mean it when she says that Alex Danvers is perfect, and it’s making her whole body writhe.

“Alex, that feels incredible,” she moans as Alex’s palm pressures her clit. Alex bits her lips and tries – and fails – to swallow a squeaky whine of pleasure.

“It’s okay, babygirl, let me hear you.”

Alex lets her lips part time time and she lets out a breathy groan. “Maggie,” she rasps, dragging the syllables out, and Maggie doesn’t know if she’ll be able to keep her focus if Alex keeps saying her name and touching her clit, slamming her fingers into her body, like that.

So she tightens the grip of her inner thighs around Alex’s hips and pushes off from one side, flipping Alex over neatly so Maggie is straddling her, riding her. She makes sure Alex is good – the heady look in Alex’s eyes and the way she adjusts her wrist so she can slip deeper inside Maggie tell her that she is – and Maggie lets herself grind down on Alex’s hand, slowly, slowly, letting her head fall back and her chest arch up. Alex gasps and swears at the sight.

“You’re beautiful, Mags,” she rasps, and Maggie’s heart leaps, and she smiles, but she’d flipped them over so she could keep it together long enough to make this about Alex. So she leans down, she kisses her, and she lifts her hips up, letting Alex’s fingers slip out of her. They both sigh keenly at the loss, and Alex looks confused for a moment.

Maggie leans up on one elbow and smooths Alex’s hair away from her wide eyes.

“I want to hear the gorgeous sounds you make while I fuck you, babygirl,” Maggie tells her, and Alex tosses her head back onto the pillow, a sound somewhere between a moan, a gasp, and a scream working its way out of her lips.

“Mmhmm, good girl, I want you to let yourself enjoy, okay?”

Alex nods and nearly squeaks in the affirmative, and Maggie brings their lips together while she adjusts her legs so one of her thighs settles between Alex’s. She demands entry into Alex’s mouth with her tongue, and Alex complies with a gasp. Maggie pulls back and Alex whines and Maggie chuckles.

“Do you want me in your pussy like I was just in your mouth, my gorgeous girl?”

“I – it – Maggie,” is all Alex can choke out, and Maggie accepts her spluttering plea. She skates a hand down Alex’s stomach and puts her lips to Alex’s ear.

“Your body feels so good under mine, baby.” Alex’s hips arch up of their own accord and Maggie is nearly overcome with the sound of Alex whining for her.

Maggie’s fingers skid down below Alex’s waistline, and it’s her turn to moan.

“Mmmm, good girl, Alex Danvers. You’re so fucking wet for me.”

Alex’s nails scrape down Maggie’s back, grab at her ass, try desperately to find her wrist, her hand.

“Fuck. Babe, you wanna be a good girl for me and tell me with your words what you want?”

Alex’s entire body writhes again, and it takes all of Maggie’s self control not to cum right there, just from the desperation in Alex’s face, the ragged tenor of her scream, the strength rippling through the tremors in her body.

“Maggie, I… I want…”

“That’s right, Alex, you’re amazing. Go on, baby, tell me what you want.”

“You. In… inside me. Maggie. Please. Please.”

“Alex, look at me.”

She complies, eyes wide, eyes desperate, panting with need and dripping with desire.

Maggie braces her fingers just outside Alex’s entrance, steadies her palm right above her clit, steadies her eyes right above those of the woman she loves.

“You are so. Fucking. Gorgeous,” Maggie tells her, slipping her fingers deep inside her on the last syllable.

At the combination of Maggie’s fingers, Maggie’s palm, Maggie’s voice, Maggie’s eyes, Alex screams and thanks god her bedroom faces away from the neighbors because ceasing to care, ceasing to remember anything in the multiverse beyond the rhythm of Maggie Sawyer’s hand, the rhythm of Maggie Sawyer’s praise.

“You are so tight for me, my love.”

“You’re doing so good, baby.”

“God, I love being surrounded by you, Alex.”

“God, you are so damn beautiful.”

“You wanna be a good girl and cum for me, babe?”

Alex screams into a shock wave at that, and Maggie brings her free hand to Alex’s hair, to her cheek.

“Look at me, Alex,” she rasps, and Alex obeys.

“You are perfect,” Maggie tells her as she curves her fingers deep inside her, and Alex sees stars.

She rides out her orgasm digging her nails into Maggie’s back, leaving marks Maggie will be very proud of in the morning; she rides out her orgasm with Maggie’s hand behind her head, cushioning her, holding her, surrounding her, loving her; she rides out her orgasm with Maggie’s words coursing through her bloodstream and with Maggie’s name spilling out of her screaming lips.

“Maggie,” she shudders one last time as Maggie coaxes the last wave through her entire body. Her eyes are hazy and slightly unfocused, and Maggie leans up on her elbow and kisses her lips, her nose, her jawline.

“Thank you,” Alex whispers softly, as Maggie gently slips out of her and gathers Alex’s spent body into her chest to ward off the potentially overwhelming nature of t his particular breed of vulnerability.

“I meant every word,” Maggie whispers, and Alex falls asleep with Maggie’s lips pressed against her temple and her own curled into a soft, contented smile.