767. Chapter 767

Maggie always made sure they went slowly.

Almost painfully slowly.

So slowly, sometimes Maggie would have to pull back from kissing Alex and rest their foreheads together, eyes closed, panting, focusing, focusing, on anything other than the way their bodies were burning to be even closer together.

So slowly, Alex would get herself off once, twice, a handful of times after Maggie left or after she dropped Maggie off after their dates; particularly the ones that ended in heavy makeout sessions.

Like tonight.

Because tonight, Alex felt like a riled up teenager; Maggie was wearing her hoodie (she’d insisted that she wasn’t cold, that Nebraska kids don’t get cold in National City, but Alex saw right through it), and Alex, somehow, had crawled on top of her on her couch while they kissed.

One hand was resting as a pillow behind Maggie’s head – because she might not have a lot of experience in these matters, but she definitely had class – and the other was anchoring on the edge of the couch, holding most of her weight off Maggie’s body.

To be courteous.

For balance.

To make sure their clothes didn’t magically come off, somehow, because that definitely felt like it would happen if they let it.

But they were starting slow, because slow was something Maggie had never done, and none of this was anything Alex had ever done, and they’d agreed that slow was…

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Because Maggie was kissing her neck – “that feel good?” she asked breathlessly, and Alex had nodded so eagerly so almost knocked Maggie’s nose with her chin – and one of Maggie’s hands was tangled in her hair and the other was underneath her shirt, caressing the skin at the small of her back, and they both, automatically, like an unspoken agreement they were both burning for, shifted so that one of Maggie’s legs could be between Alex’s, and…

Maggie’s teeth nipped gently at Alex’s neck, and the way Alex moaned had Maggie grind her hips up into Alex’s body.

And clothes or no clothes, feel Maggie Sawyer writhing underneath her like that, because she found it that hot to kiss her neck, to make her make sounds she’s certainly never made before, the pressure of Maggie’s thigh between her legs…

Alex came. Hard.

She’d always made herself come – no one else had ever done that for her – so she always, really, knew what to expect.

This was a surprise. Not because her fingers knew exactly what to do to her own body; not something automatic she needed to sleep; this was from passion and heat and the rhythm of Maggie’s body under her own.

This was amazing.

This made her so, so damn happy.

So, naturally, it ruined everything.

This was the whole reason they were going slowly, this… it ruined everything. She’d ruined everything. Of course.

She didn’t think she’d ever blushed harder in her life as she came down from her ecstasy. Maggie was kissing her neck – soft, now, instead of hot – and murmuring to her about how beautiful she was.

She wasn’t beautiful. She was inexperienced and overeager and an embarrassment.

She was humiliated.

She pressed her lips to Maggie’s collarbone – her hoodie was still all askew – to let her know she’d done nothing wrong, and she shakily started untangling their bodies.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, because no one had ever heard her made sounds like that; no one had ever seen her let go like that; no one had ever felt her body spasm, no control, like that. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, whoa, Danvers, what… what happened?”

Alex had been wrong, before; she could blush harder than she’d already been blushing.

“I… um… I…”

“Came. Orgasmed. Whatever word you feel best about. We can talk about that. We should. But… yeah, I know that. I meant, you look like you’re freaking out. Did I hurt you? Did I do anything you don’t want? Because – “

“No, no, it just… you’re not… grossed out, or – “

“Uh, Alex.” Maggie was struggling to sit up, now, bringing herself up on one elbow and pulling her hair out of her face with her free hand. “That was the exact opposite of gross. That was… sweetie, wait, are you embarrassed because you came while we were making out?”

Alex couldn’t look at her girlfriend – god, she didn’t even deserve to have a girlfriend – but she nodded.

And suddenly, it was Maggie, seeking permission to be in her lap.

Alex granted it, passive but surprised and maybe, just a little, hopeful.

“Hey, Danvers. Listen to me. Nothing you do, nothing your body does, is gross to me. Okay? You getting off on us making out? Is so damn hot. I could’ve come too, damn Danvers. But listen, even if it wasn’t so hot, it wasn’t wrong. You’re not wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were enjoying yourself, I was enjoying myself. To say the least. And that’s what I want for you, Alex. For us. To enjoy ourselves, together. To make each other feel good. Did that feel good, Alex?”

She glanced up, quick and teary eyed, and nodded quickly before looking down again.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing. Okay? You coming in my arms is literally the hottest thing I’ve ever felt.”

“But you’ve had lots of sex that you said you’ve enjoyed,” Alex objected, finding Maggie’s eyes again.

“Yeah, I have, and I said what I said and I meant it.”

“But… we were just kissing. I’m like some overeager teenager who just… you were right, I’m too inexperienced, I… I’m sorry.”

“Alex, that… that was never about sex. And there’s nothing wrong with being overeager, or a teenager. Or both. I’ve told you about Adrian, right?”

Alex chuckled and nodded, and Maggie took the opportunity to see if she wanted a soft kiss on the lips.

She did, and she got one.

“You’ve gotta meet that kid. But my point, Danvers, is just… we talked about this. Kissing, sex, everything in between – hell, even holding hands – it’s different for everyone, between everyone. Different definitions, different styles, different feelings. You know that. All of it’s great. Everything with you, Alex Danvers, is great. I love kissing you. And I love that it made you come.”

She made herself stop talking, then, because the words that wanted to spill out of her lips were too scary, too soon.

But Alex could see her eyes.

They could see each other’s eyes.

So maybe she didn’t need to say anything at all, for Alex to know.

And maybe it was that knowledge that made Alex’s eyes regain their sparkle, her voice regain its confidence, its playful flirtatiousness.

“So. You said you could’ve come just from making out with me too, huh?”

Maggie gulped, and Alex let her eyes rake down Maggie’s body as she licked her lips.

Maggie gulped again.

“Let’s test that hypothesis,” Alex husked, and Maggie, it turned out, was a very willing collaborator.