306. Chapter 306

Alex drives her and she promises her once, twice, three times, four, that she’ll be waiting right outside.

That no matter what Emily says, no matter what feelings it brings up, Maggie will have a woman who loves her unconditionally – no judgment, no shaming – to take her home.

Maggie shakes and Maggie very nearly starts crying again, but she puts on her cop face, her impenetrable face, and Alex kisses her hand and watches her stride out of the car, watches her call after her ex.

“Emily. Hey. I… I’m sorry, I don’t mean to keep bumping into you like this, I just – “

“Listen, Maggie, if you’re here to tell me off for telling your girlfriend the truth, I don’t want to – “

“No, that’s not it, that’s not… Emily, I never… I never apologized. Not really, not enough. I apologized for… for myself, to make myself feel less guilty, less at fault. And then you said some things – which I totally don’t blame you for – and I… it made me feel justified in what I did, so I stopped trying. And I shouldn’t have. Stopped trying. I mean, I should have respected your space and all that, sure, but I… I’m just trying to say that you never deserved the hell I put you through, and you didn’t do anything wrong to cause it, it was me, it was all and only me, and I know I can’t do anything to make it right but – “

“Maggie, stop. Just… stop. Look, I’ve moved on. And clearly, so have you. I… you’re right. You’re right. You did a lot of damage. I loved you, I wanted to spend my life with you, I…”

Maggie looks down and tries not to feel, tries not to hate herself, tries not to… But Emily’s talking again, and she looks back up to listen to her like she deserves to be listened to.

“You shouldn’t have cheated. You know that. We don’t need to rehash that. It’s been too many years to… but look. You deserve to be happy. Of course you do. You made a mistake, you… but clearly, you’ve changed. You found yourself a great girl, you really have. And it looks like you treat her well.”

“I do.”

“Good. Do that. Don’t do to her what you did to me. That’s how you make it up to me, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Maggie’s voice is small, but Emily’s smiling, because that’s the Maggie she wants to remember; the girl who loves hard and fights hard and plays hard and hurts hard.

She turns and she looks out the window to wear Alex is waiting, leaning on the hood of the car, and Alex puts up a hand and offers a small smile and waves.

“She’s great,” Emily says, because who else goes to defend her girlfriend, finds out she cheated on her ex and lied about it, and then drives her to make amends?

“I know,” Maggie says, because she really, really does.

“You’re lucky to have her.”

And then, “It’s good seeing you,” because really, oddly, it is. They hug and it’s brief because if it’s any longer it’ll burn, but Emily gives a soft wave to Alex as Maggie walks away, because she hopes she doesn’t need luck, she hopes she just needs Maggie.

Which is exactly what Alex needs.

All Alex needs.

All she needs when she asks how it went and Maggie thanks her, and tells her that Emily said she was lucky to have her, but god, god, god, it’s the other way around.

She grabs the lapel of Maggie’s jacket and she pulls and Maggie’s lips are soft and warm and perfect and Alex keeps hold of Maggie’s jacket even after they pull back, and Maggie reads the look in Alex’s eyes.

Reads the needs, reads the want. Reads the excitement, the desire.

“Let’s go,” she says, and heads back into the car, because she knows what comes next, and god, does she want it.

Alex smiles and practically hugs herself, because it’s called being happy, Danvers, and she’s getting used to it, kind of, but she thinks she may never get fully used to the feeling of being smiled at by Maggie Sawyer, of being kissed by Maggie Sawyer, of being…. god… loved…. by Maggie Sawyer.

So she smiles and she practically squeals and she follows Maggie into the car.

“Thank you, Alex,” Maggie says without preamble, and Alex strokes her hair and shakes her head.

“Always.”

“Kiss me again?”

“Always.”

She leans across the car and she kisses her soft and she kisses her slow and she kisses her like she’s falling and Maggie is the only one who can catch her, because god, she is.

Maggie opens her lips and sighs into the kiss and reaches over to tangle her hands in Alex’s hair and Alex lets out a soft moan and god, does Maggie taste incredible.

“Home?” Alex asks, because she might not be fully briefed in lesbian cultural norms, but she’s reasonably certain it would be rude to have sex in the car right outside one of your ex’s hotels after making amends with said ex.

And she’s reasonably certain that if Maggie keeps touching her like that – touching her like she’s the only thing that exists in the world – that’s exactly what they’ll wind up doing.

So they settle for holding hands as Maggie drives with her other, their fingers interlaced, neither of them speaking, but both of them glancing at each other, both of them with small smiles and barely suppressed giggles because somehow, somehow, somehow, they found each other and somehow, somehow, somehow, they’re each other’s healing.

They’re barely through the door before Maggie has Alex’s jacket off, before she’s kissing her way down Alex’s jawline, but Alex hums and Maggie stops immediately, eyes concerned and hands up and off Alex’s body in surrender.

“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted – “

“I do, Maggie. I want you. But I want… I want to focus on you. I want to make you feel special. I want to make love to you, I want… I want to worship you, Maggie. Will you let me? If you want?”

“Alex, I don’t deserve – “

“Maggie. Let me show you what you deserve. If you want.”

Throat too tight with love, with gratitude, with disbelief that someone can love her like this, that someone can look at like this, that Alex Danvers can love her like this, that Alex Danvers can look at her like this, Maggie just nods.

And Alex smiles, and Alex does the last thing Maggie expects her to do: she walks away.

Before Maggie can panic, Alex takes her hand and kisses each knuckle.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promises, and she sets about the apartment, turning on soft jazz and lighting candles and humming to herself.

“Pour yourself a drink, babe,” she offers, but Maggie declines, because she doesn’t want Alex to have to taste the alcohol on her lips. Alex notices, and her heart expands so much she thinks her chest might burst.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she whispers as she crosses behind her to light the candles on the kitchen island, and Maggie fights off tears, fights off weeping, because how can she possibly deserve this?

Candles lit and music on, Alex offers Maggie her hand.

“Let me show you what you deserve, Maggie.”

A stream of violent images – things Maggie deserves – flash unbidden through her mind. She shakes them off, forces herself to focus on those eyes, that soft smile, those perfect lips, that gentle touch.

And she lets Alex Danvers show her exactly what she thinks she deserves.

She thinks she deserves to be carried to bed while being kissed gentle, kissed passionate, kissed perfect. Kissed soft but hard, somehow at the same time, while being held, being carried, being surrounded, like she weighs nothing, like she’s nothing of the burden she’s always believed herself to be.

She thinks she deserves to be stripped naked slowly, being told how beautiful she is with every new inch of skin revealed, being told how perfectly the candlelight plays off of her skin, how it’s like the most beautiful piece of art she’s ever seen, but better.

“Nerd,” she whispers, and Alex just chuckles as she shucks off her own clothes.

“Your nerd.”

And Maggie can’t disagree, doesn’t want to, because Alex is kissing each of her toes and her shins and her knees, concentrating on the old soccer scars, and she’s pausing and waiting for permission before proceeding up her bare thighs, and Maggie grants it because god, Alex, Alex, Alex, and Alex asks if she wants this again before spreading her curls open with her thumb and index finger and closing her lips around Maggie’s clit, and Maggie can do nothing but whimper, can do nothing but gasp, can do nothing but scream, because this worshiping is what Alex Danvers thinks she deserves, and god, no one’s ever told her she deserves to be quite this cherished before.

Because Alex’s eyes are glued to her face, even as her tongue slips inside her, even as her tongue revels in how soaked she is for her. Alex’s eyes are glued to her face, making sure she’s good, making sure she wants everything Alex is doing, and the look in her eyes is nothing if not reverent.

Nothing if not the most moving, most sexy thing Maggie has ever seen.

Until, that is, Alex reaches up and brings one of Maggie’s nipples between her fingers, and that image? Alex, tongue between her legs, watching her face intently, lovingly, hotly, with her fingers teasing her hardened nipple?

She has no idea what she’s done to deserve Alex Danvers, but god is she grateful she has her.

“Do you want to cum in my mouth, babe?” Alex pulls back to ask, and Maggie tosses her head back and screams in response, and Alex grins and takes that, accurately, as a fuck yes.

She works her tongue over her clit and she asks with her eyes if Maggie wants her fingers inside her, and Maggie begs and Alex complies and fills her up, deeper, harder, deeper, harder, because Maggie keeps begging for more and Alex keeps providing, and when she cums pulsing around Alex’s fingers and streaming wetness around Alex’s palm, around her tongue, Alex moans in delight, in ecstasy, in perfection.

“I love you, Maggie,” she whispers, her voice thick with Maggie’s cum in her mouth, and Maggie has never heard anything so perfect.

“Do you want more?” Alex asks as she wipes her mouth and nose and chin on her shoulder and kisses a trail up and down Maggie’s inner thighs.

“Do you… want to give me more?”

Alex grins and crawls up Maggie’s body so she can kiss her lips, so she can feel their bodies touch everywhere.

“When are you going to get it, Maggie? I always want to give you more. Because that’s always what you deserve.”

“That sounds fake, but… please.”

Alex chuckles and Maggie giggles and Alex shifts and asks with her eyes and Maggie nods and grabs at Alex’s ass and begs please, please, yes Alex, please.

So Alex slips one leg between Maggie’s and shifts back, shifts close, so her own wetness can slip onto Maggie’s, and they both moan and scream and writhe and grasp at each other’s skin with the heat, the overwhelming heat, of their bodies pressed together.

“Too much?” Alex makes sure, and Maggie shakes her head.

“Please don’t stop,” she begs, and Alex doesn’t.

She grinds her hips down slow and firm and careful and perfect, her clit on Maggie’s in perfect rhythm, with perfect pressure, with perfect timing. It’s something that’s taken them hours of giggling and practicing and yelping and toppling over, but now that they’ve gotten their own bodies, their own needs, each other’s bodies, each other’s needs, it’s automatic, and it’s absolute ecstasy.

Maggie grabs at Alex’s ass and pulls her down deeper, closer, harder, and Alex moans as the slick heat of Maggie’s clit under hers, the firm grasp of Maggie’s hands on her naked body, the desperate writhing of Maggie’s torso, the needy whimpering of Alex’s name from her lips, tosses her over the edge, and when she arches back and moans Maggie’s name, it’s the most beautiful thing Maggie’s ever seen, and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, if this woman – this ruthless, stubborn, guarded, passionate, badass, blows-up-buildings-while-she’s-still-inside-them woman – trusts her enough to let her watch her cum like that, to let her watch her unravel like that, to watch her vulnerable and undone and open like that?

Then maybe she might just deserve her love after all.