212. Chapter 212

It’s well after midnight when they finally get home. It’s well after midnight, and they’d danced the night away.

They’d danced and they’d cried and they’d kissed and they’d laughed, because may I have this dance and actually feeding each other chocolate-covered strawberries is a lot messier than they make it seem on tv, huh and mmm, don’t worry about making a mess, Danvers, I can uh… clean it up for you and I’m proud of you, you know and for what? and For going through all that and still being exactly who you are. For getting through it, for… hell, Maggie, for telling me, even though I retraumatized you, for… for letting me in, for letting me love you and you getting soft on me, Danvers? and have you seen the dress you had Winn make me, Sawyer? How could I be anything but soft for you right now?

They’re holding hands when they walk through the door because they haven’t been willing, haven’t been able, to stop touching each other all night, and there’s a heavy pause as they step over the threshold.

Alex wants her; Alex wants to make love to her, Alex wants to give her pleasure, Alex wants to make her feel loved; Alex wants to give her everything.

But the night has been so tender, and the kisses have been passionate, but they’d stayed just that – kisses. So Alex isn’t sure what Maggie wants, and what Maggie wants is most important.

But Maggie knows Alex, and she sees the desire in Alex’s eyes, and she feels heat pooling in her own core, feels her own need to be made love to, to be touched, to be taken, by this woman, this gorgeous woman who held her and who didn’t run when she bared her soul, who had kissed her wounds and who seems to love her all the more because of them.

So she tilts her head and she licks her lips and she smiles softly, smiles shyly, smiles a little bit wickedly.

“Danvers, uh… before… when I freaked out… With the candles and the music and that… uh… slip…. thing… what uh… what were you planning on… doing?”

Alex arches an eyebrow and puckers her lips off to the side. “Wanna find out, Sawyer?”

Maggie gulps and she nods and Alex kisses her soft, gentle, perfect.

“Sit down,” she whispers in Maggie’s ear, her breath hot and her breath still smelling like chocolate, like strawberries, and Maggie lets Alex walk her to the couch, and Maggie sits.

“Maggie Sawyer,” Alex whispers as she flicks on the same music she’d had before with the remote Maggie hadn’t seen her grab. “It doesn’t matter what day of the year it is. I want you to feel appreciated. I want you to feel wanted. Because I do. Want you. Always.”

Maggie’s throat is dry because Alex is starting to move, and Maggie has been dancing with her all night, but dancing slow, dancing close, dancing as more of hugging with foot movement and forehead touching and gentle kissing, but now Alex’s hands are playing with her own hair and her hips are finding perfect rhythm and she’s licking her lips and staring down at Maggie and she’s turning her head to the side so she can keep watch on Maggie peripherally as she turns her body around and sinks lower, lower, lower.

Lower until she’s grinding into Maggie’s lap and Maggie is bringing shocked, needy hands to her hips, and Maggie is watching the muscles of her lower back leap in the exposing dress Winn so perfectly made, and she’s hissing because she knew Alex could move but she didn’t know Alex could move like that and she’s whispering her name like the prayer that it is and Alex is bringing her hands back to rest on Maggie’s thighs and Maggie’s head is tilting back into the couch and her eyes are fluttering closed because Alex told her she wants her to feel appreciated, to feel wanted, and god she does, she does, she does.

“Alex,” she prays, and Alex answers, swirling her ass down deeper into Maggie’s lap once, twice, three times more.

“You’re beautiful, Maggie,” Alex rasps as she looks over her shoulder, and Maggie shakes her head vaguely.

“You, Danvers. You.”

Alex presses her ass down one last time and Maggie moans softly. Alex stands and turns and hikes her dress up above her hips so she can straddle the woman she loves.

“I want to make love to you, Maggie. I want to make you feel incredible. I mean, only if you want, only if you’re okay to, I just – “

Her words are lost in Maggie’s lips, and she moans into Maggie’s mouth, around Maggie’s tongue, and Maggie’s warm hands are bringing her body closer by the small of her back and Maggie is whining softly as Alex grinds down into her, as Alex presses kisses down Maggie’s jawline, down Maggie’s throat, gently pressing the collar of her blazer back to kiss her collarbone.

“We don’t have to, Mags,” Alex reminds her, but Maggie’s eyes are on fire when they meet.

“Take me to bed, Ally.”

Alex smiles and Alex shifts off the couch and lowers her dress back over her hips as Maggie chuckles softly. She takes Maggie’s hands and leads her slowly, perfectly, deliberately, to the bedroom.

She hesitates when the backs of her knees hit the mattress, and she stares down at Maggie nervously.

“I’m no more fragile than I was yesterday, Danvers. You wanna make love to me? Make love to me.”

Alex grins and tugs softly at Maggie’s blazer, and Maggie sighs deeply as Alex kisses every inch of her arms, one at a time, being exposed by the slow, painstaking lowering of her blazer.

“You,” she punctuates her kisses. “Are. So. Beautiful. Maggie. Sawyer.”

She doesn’t stop – Maggie whispers for her please not to – until Maggie is wearing nothing, until every single inch of Maggie’s skin has been thoroughly, thoroughly kissed.

“Lay down for me, princess,” Alex whispers, and Maggie’s heart threatens to explode as she does what she’s asked, her eyes not leaving Alex’s body as Alex slowly, deliberately, steps out of her dress, gaze fixed on Maggie’s face the entire time.

Even as she steps out of her thong, even as she slips off her shoes, her eyes belong to Maggie, and Maggie is breathless and surrounded by the warmth, by the radiance, by the protective shell that is Alex’s love.

“You good?” Alex makes sure as she kneels on the bed in front of her, as she slips her thigh between Maggie’s and Maggie’s hips writhe slightly of their own accord.

Maggie can’t speak so she nods, and she whimpers slightly as she tries to control the rolling of her hips, but Alex smooths the hair out of her face and shakes her head and kisses her lips with a soft smile.

“You don’t have to hold back, babe. I’ve got you.”

Maggie lets out a ragged sound somewhere between a sigh and a gasp, and Alex makes a pillow out of her hand behind Maggie’s head, and she slips her other hand under the small of her back so she’s completely holding her body, and Maggie is safe, and Maggie is home, and Maggie decides to trust her.

Alex starts to move slowly, tentatively, her eyes constantly checking with Maggie, and Maggie is nodding, and Maggie is squeaking slightly, and Maggie is grinding her hips up into Alex’s thigh, and Alex barely holds back a moan because she can feel Maggie’s growing wetness pressing against her leg, her coarse hair a heady contrast with her slick, smooth wetness, and Maggie grabs desperately at Alex’s ass, at Alex’s leg, and pulls her down closer, pulls her down harder, as she grinds up against her thigh, as she lets herself take the pressure she needs because Alex told her she can let go, and she can feel herself starting to, and god, this must be what safety feels like.

“Babe, do you want – “ Alex asks raggedly, and Maggie knows, and Maggie whimpers and nods desperately in affirmation, in pleading.

So Alex kisses her lips, her nose, her eyes, her ear, and she shifts, bringing Maggie’s leg up higher, bringing their bodies closer together, so her own heat, her own wetness, is closer to Maggie’s, is touching Maggie’s, is grinding down gently into Maggie’s, and that’s what makes Maggie scream her name, and that’s what makes Maggie truly let everything go.

Because Alex’s strong hands are framing her writhing, naked body, and Alex’s lips are whispering encouragement, whispering praise, whispering love, down into her ear, and Alex’s clit is hot and wet and perfect against hers, and Alex is taking great care to make sure she’s giving Maggie, giving herself, just the right amount of pressure, just the right amount of friction, without slamming bone into bone, and Alex’s eyes are never leaving Maggie’s as Maggie lets herself scream her throat raw on Alex’s name, on Alex’s love, on Alex, as she cums soft, as she cums safe, as she cums undone.

“Ally,” she whispers as she comes down, and Alex shifts so she can draw Maggie’s body into her own.

“You’re perfect, Maggie Sawyer. And you deserve to feel perfect. Every single day of the year.”