419. Chapter 419

Everyone is safe.

Everyone except the young – so, so young – agents whose families Alex had to visit.

Everyone except the young – so, so young – officers whose families Maggie had to visit.

Everyone is safe, but the air still tastes like death.

Everyone is safe, and Alex needs her.

She needs her hard and she needs her soft, but most importantly, she needs her now.

They’re barely in the door to her apartment – the first time either of them have been to either apartment in days – and her lips are sealed over Maggie’s neck, her tongue is slipping into Maggie’s mouth, her teeth are biting onto Maggie’s throat.

“Alex,” Maggie whines, and Alex stops, backing up several paces, leaving Maggie panting and slightly writhing and swaying, back against the door, hair all askew.

“I’m sorry,” Alex retreats into herself, and Maggie shakes her head.

“No. Alex, no, I… please don’t stop, babe. I don’t want you to stop.”

“No?”

“No.”

“What do you want then, Maggie?”

“I want you to show me what it feels like to be alive again.”

“And how do you want me to do that?” Her voice is soft and her voice is scared, because sometimes, god, sometimes the rawness of her need for Maggie terrifies her.

“Make love to me, Alex,” Maggie breathes, and Alex hisses. Maggie pauses before Alex can lunge, and Maggie clarifies.

“And by make love, right now, I mean fuck me until I don’t remember anything but your name and how to beg you for more.”

Alex positively growls, and she has Maggie scooped up in her arms before Maggie can take another breath, and she’s kissing her so hard both of their lips are going to bruise, and neither of them care.

Neither of them care, because Maggie’s body is pliant in Alex’s arms, pliant but strong and solid and warm and so, so, so alive.

Neither of them care, because Maggie’s hands are buried in Alex’s hair and her mouth is open for Alex’s tongue and she’s grinding into Alex’s lower stomach as Alex carries her because Alex is holding her up because Alex is so, perfectly, wonderfully, alive.

“I love you,” Maggie gasps as Alex lays her down.

“I love you,” Alex moans as Maggie tears off her shirt and lets Alex bury her face in her chest, clamp her lips, her tongue, her teeth, around Maggie’s nipple.

“I got you,” Maggie whines as Alex shudders through an accidental orgasm, dripping all over Maggie’s thigh as her lips, her teeth, leave hickeys all across Maggie’s chest, because she’s safe, and alive, and her screams are good, her screams are ecstatic, her screams are alive, alive, alive.

“I got you,” Alex husks as she lowers her face between Maggie’s legs, Maggie’s desperate fingers guiding her down, keeping her steady, keeping her stable, keeping her solid against her clit, even as they both weep, even as they both pant for air, because they’re both alive, alive, alive.

“Turn over,” Alex growls when Maggie can’t get enough from Alex’s mouth to make her cum.

Maggie obeys immediately, rolling onto her stomach and offering her wrists for Alex to clamp down. Offering her body for Alex to take. Offering her being for Alex to bury herself inside.

And she does, she does, god, how she does.

Fingers first, holding one of Maggie’s wrists down with one hand, fucking her hard and fast from behind with the other. Maggie’s free hand desperately works at her own clit as Alex slams into her ass to get the pressure she needs, over and over and over, Maggie begging for more with every breath.

“Please Danvers, please, fuck, please, yes,” she’ll moan, she’ll beg, she’ll scream, and Alex doesn’t stop obliging, Maggie’s ass getting slick with how wet Alex is, with how badly Alex needs her.

Fingers first, but then Maggie needs more.

She needs more of Alex inside her and she needs more of Alex holding her down.

Holding her down because the last few days – hell, the last couple weeks – have been all about control.

Being in control, taking control. Wrestling back control.

Maintaining control at all costs.

And now?

Now, god, god, damn, she just wants to give herself completely to Alex.

Give herself completely to this woman who wants to reclaim Maggie’s body from the battlefield and refashion it as her own.

Maggie loves her for a lot of reasons.

This is one of them.

And Alex knows, so Alex kisses the back of her neck gentle, loving, tender, as she slips her fingers out of her.

Kisses her earlobes and her jawline and her shoulder blades as she slides to one side of the bed to grab their strap-on and harness from the bedside table.

“Is this what you need, Maggie?” she asks, and Maggie whimpers as she nods.

“Please, Danvers,” she almost sobs, and Alex kisses Maggie’s tears before she wipes her own.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you too,” Maggie responds, and for a moment, they revel in each other’s slick heat and deep breaths and desperate, desperate need.

Maggie’s the one to break the silence.

“I want more of you, Alex,” and the rasp in her voice makes Alex groan for her.

“You still wet enough?” she asks, and Maggie arches her hips up.

“See for yourself, Danvers,” she teases, and Alex chuckles as she makes Maggie scream with how smoothly she slips inside her from behind.

“Fuuuuck,” Maggie whines, and Alex needs to confirm.

“Do you still want me to hold you down?”

Maggie offers one of her wrists desperately, needily. Hungrily.

“Please, Agent Danvers. Please.”

So Alex holds her down hard and holds her down firm, one hand on Maggie’s wrist, the other pushing down on her shoulder blade, the pressure and pain sweet bliss for Maggie as she works her fingers of her free hand over her clit, slamming her ass up into Alex’s strap on, pounding her hips down into her hand, onto the mattress, onto all the pressure she needs.

Neither of them know how long it takes for Alex’s thrusts start to go ragged, but they’ve both screamed themselves raw on the other’s name, they’ve both ruined the other beyond belief, they’re both wrecked passing all comprehension.

Alex moans as Maggie squirts, as Maggie cries through her orgasm and Alex does the same, working Maggie through her waves diligently, carefully, attentively.

“I’m right here,” she whispers as she gingerly kisses the spots where she’d been holding Maggie down.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Always, Maggie Sawyer. Always.”