167. Chapter 167

It’s her job to monitor Alex’s color; her job to put her fingers on Alex’s palm and make sure she squeezes before continuing; to make sure, that as Alex’s is cuffed and blindfolded and naked underneath her, her hand clamping Alex’s mouth closed, quiet, that Alex wants everything, wants more, wants it all, wants her.

It’s her job to make sure Alex is good, at every single moment.

And she takes her job very seriously.

But Alex is strong and Alex likes it rough, so when Maggie is buried inside her, ragged breath and hard thrusts, she feels Alex’s muffled screaming in her palm and she glances up, to where Alex’s hands are cuffed above her head, to make sure, to make sure, to make sure.

Because she takes her job very seriously.

But so does Alex, and Alex’s job – at the DEO, anyway – is pain, and Alex doesn’t notice that she’s writhing so hard in the cuffs that her skin is getting red, that her skin is starting to tear, that her skin is starting to bleed.

Maggie’s heart lurches and Maggie is dizzy and Maggie stops moving immediately and Alex whines and Alex begs and Alex pleads and Alex moans, because she thinks Maggie’s teasing her, she thinks Maggie just needs her to show her what a good girl she is, how she deserves to be fucked really good and just like that, but Alex freezes when she hears Maggie panting out, “Red, red, red.”

“It’s okay, babe, I’m okay, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Alex streams out in a single breath, because Maggie’s hand is gone from her mouth now and she’s shaking above her and she’s apologizing over and over and Alex can’t tell what for but she knows she wants to hold her, to hold her, to hold her, to let Maggie hold her, so she offers up her hands, her wrists, so they can be unlocked, so they can be free to sooth through Maggie’s hair and stroke her cheeks and hold her, soothe her, love her.

And that’s when she sees the red marks the cuffs have made with the force of her writhing, and that’s when she sees Maggie’s fingers tremble as they work at the lock, and that’s when she sees Maggie’s eyes water as she brings her lips to Alex’s stinging skin, and that’s when she realizes why Maggie’s color went red.

“Babe, you didn’t hurt me, I’m good, I’m okay, you didn’t hurt me, it doesn’t hurt,” Alex repeats, kissing Maggie’s forehead as Maggie worries over her wrists.

“You told me you were okay and it didn’t hurt last time you got shot in the field,” Maggie protests, and it would be funny if her voice weren’t so shredded with tears, with worry, with fear.

“Hey, hey, hey, this isn’t that. We’re not in the field, we’re at home. I’m in your bed. Your very, very comfortable, but not as comfortable as mine and I don’t know why you keep insisting we sleep here bed.”

“Your room doesn’t even have a door, Danvers – “ Maggie stops her spluttering when she sees Alex’s smile, and her eyes water again.

“You’re okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

Alex glances at her wrists and grins wickedly. “I’m pretty sure I did this to myself. You did warn me not to move, after all.”

Her voice drops and Maggie’s breath hitches and Alex strokes her hair, her cheeks, her jawline.

“I know you’d never hurt me, Maggie. I’m good. I promise. Okay?”

Maggie nods and kisses her softly before gathering her into her arms. Alex melts into her embrace and Maggie needs to make sure one more time.

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course I’m not mad, Mags. I love how you look out for me. So much.”

Maggie smiles and presses a kiss to Alex’s hair. “Good then, Danvers. Because I’m always gonna look out for you.”

“Sounds perfect to me.”