446. Chapter 446

She told Kara she’s been… thinking… about Maggie.

A lot.

And she has been.

Thinking about her smile and the way she tries to look cocky when she’s shooting pool; the way she’s tough – so damn tough – but she never seems to mind losing to Alex.

Thinking about how quickly she gets leads, how brilliantly she deduces means, motive, and method.

Thinking about her lips, how those jeans fit her as she bent over to line up a shot at the pool table last night, how close they had been when they clinked beer bottles in salute to them, to life, to being alive one more day.

Thinking about what Maggie might look like with her clothes off, thinking about how those lips might taste, thinking about what it would be like to touch her hair, to undress her, to be skin to skin with her, to make her scream.

And now? Now that she’s kissed her, been rejected, been sought out, been kissed… now that she has a girlfriend – she still can’t believe she has a girlfriend – Alex keeps thinking.

Keeps thinking, and sometimes, amazingly – doing.

Because kissing has turned to making out, and making out has brought hands under shirts and mouths to exposed throats and desperate, breathy gasps of the other’s name out of panting, parted lips.

She and Maggie agreed early on – at Maggie’s soft but firm urging – to take things slowly, and they have been, they have been – it’s been hard, it’s almost been impossible, but they have been – but god, that doesn’t stop Alex from thinking.

Thinking about sex, and eventually, experiencing it.

Soft and slow and something akin to reverent, eyes locked into eyes and fingers interlaced and soft moans of the other’s name instead of sharp screams of curses.

And god, Alex Danvers loves having sex with Maggie Sawyer. Letting Maggie make love to her. Making love to Maggie. With her.

But still, she thinks.

And, more often than not, she’s embarrassed by what she thinks.

Maggie tells her she shouldn’t be. They talk about everything before they do it – Maggie is never anything if not careful with Alex – and Maggie has those soft, penetrating eyes that Alex is pretty certain would never judge her, would never laugh at her in a mean way.

But still.

Sometimes she’s embarrassed by what she thinks.

Because she’s new to the whole experience of enjoying intimacy, and the things they’re already doing are so powerfully intimate; so too are the things Alex wants to do. The things Alex is afraid to ask for.

Because Alex thinks about Maggie holding her down. Maggie tying her down. Maggie leaving marks all across her chest with her lips, her tongue, her teeth. Maggie blindfolding her and gagging her and fucking her hard and silent until the only sound is the connection of their bodies and Maggie’s ragged breath.

She thinks about it, but even though Maggie tells her she can ask anything, ask for anything, she doesn’t quite know how to.

So the next time Maggie’s on top of her, panting and eager and wanting her – Alex still can’t quite believe that this woman wants her, or hell, that she wants Maggie back – she thinks her thoughts and her thoughts turn her on so hard that she freezes.

“Al, you good? Did I hurt you?” Maggie stops immediately, hoisting herself up on her hands so she’s not keeping her weight on Alex, her eyes scanning Alex’s face, Alex’s body, for signs of pain or fear.

“No, no, I just um… You know what, never mind, can you um… can you go back to kissing me? The kissing was good.”

Maggie smiles irrepressibly, because god is her nerd perfect.

“Mmmm, I agree, Danvers,” she murmurs before lowering herself carefully back down on Alex’s body, but when their lips connect, when the weight of Maggie’s body covers her own, Alex thinks again, and Alex hisses.

And Maggie stops.

“Babe?”

Alex heaves a frustrated sigh and Maggie fights down a panic attack. “It’s nothing, Maggie, I told you, we can keep going – “

“Alex, I don’t want to keep going if you’re only doing this for me – “

“I’m not, I don’t want to stop, I just… I want… I want something… more.” She doesn’t look up at her and she chews on her bottom lip and she fights to keep down tears, because she’s not used to asking for something she wants. And she’s certainly not used to asking for something this… intimate.

But Maggie’s eyes immediately soften, all her defensiveness, all her fear, evaporated with Alex’s admission. She shifts her weight onto one hand and strokes Alex’s cheek with the other.

“It’s okay to want something more, Danvers. You can ask me for anything, I’ve told you. If I don’t like what you’re suggesting, or I’m not in the mood for it right now, I’ll let you know. But nothing you want is bad, Alex. You’re not bad for wanting anything that you want, and I like that you’re asking, it’s hot, I – “

“I want you to tie me down, or cuff me down, whatever, and I want you to blindfold me and I want you to gag me and I want you to fuck me really, really hard while… all the… all that… is happening.”

She runs out of gas, out of courage, halfway through her blurted question, and she lowers her chin to her chest so she can’t see Maggie’s face, and she wishes, she wishes, she wishes she hadn’t said anything.

But then Maggie’s gentle finger is under her chin. “Alex, look at me. Please?”

Alex lets Maggie tilt her face back up, her eyes wide and scared and full of tears, but Maggie? Maggie’s smile is soft and understanding, with just the right dash of wrecked.

“Thank you for telling me what you want, Alex.”

Alex fights to hold Maggie’s eyes, to not look away.

“And what do you want?”

“About what you just said?”

Alex nods, tearful and afraid and on just this side of mortified.

Maggie bites her lip and shifts her hips slightly and takes a long, slow breath. “I would absolutely love to share all that with you, Alex. To do all that with you.”

“Now?” Alex rasps, almost timid, waves of embarrassment fading out as waves of arousal crash back in.

“Can we build up to it? I don’t wanna move too fast.”

Alex nods immediately, reaching up to stroke Maggie’s hair, to kiss her lips soft and chaste and grateful.

“But I uh… I don’t want you to stop telling me fantasies. If you have more, I mean.”

“I’ll tell you more of mine if you tell me some of yours, Sawyer.”

Maggie’s breath hitches and she wonders for a moment how a woman with this kind of darkness, this kind of light, in her eyes could ever possibly want her, care for her, be laying underneath her, so open and so vulnerable and so trusting.

“Deal,” she whispers, grateful the night is only just beginning.