She watched Evie’s face as she touched her—the way her eyes fluttered closed, the flush spreading across her chest, the small sounds she couldn’t quite contain despite their surroundings.
“Look at me,” Maggie said quietly.
Evie’s eyes opened, meeting hers with an intensity that made Maggie’s own arousal spike sharply.
“I want to see you,” Maggie continued, her movements becoming more purposeful now, more focused.
Evie nodded, holding her gaze even as pleasure built visibly across her features. Her hands found Maggie’s face, pulling her down into a kiss that was more breath than contact, broken by gasps and whispered encouragement.
“Don’t stop,” Evie managed. “Please don’t?—”
“I won’t,” Maggie promised against her mouth, and she meant it as more than just about this moment.
When Evie came, it was with Maggie’s name on her lips, her body arching up into Maggie’s touch, hands gripping desperately at her back. Maggie held her through it, slowing her movements gradually, gentling them until Evie collapsed back against the narrow mattress, breathing hard.
Maggie withdrew her hand carefully, pressing soft kisses to Evie’s temple, her cheek, her mouth.
“Okay?” she whispered.
Evie laughed breathlessly. “More than okay.”
She reached for Maggie, pulling her down beside her, but Maggie caught her wrist gently.
“This was enough,” Maggie said quietly.
Evie frowned. “But you?—”
“I’m good,” Maggie assured her, and it was true in a way that surprised her. The act of giving this to Evie, of allowing herself to be present and unguarded, had satisfied something in her that went deeper than physical release.
Evie studied her face for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Okay. But next time?—”
“Next time,” Maggie interrupted gently, “is something we figure out later.”
Evie settled against her, head resting on Maggie’s shoulder. “I could get used to this.”
Maggie’s arm tightened around her reflexively, even as warning bells started ringing in the back of her mind.
“Don’t,” she said softly. “Not yet.”
Evie was quiet for a moment, then: “Why not take a quick rest while you’ve got the chance?”
It was a deflection, but a kind one.
Maggie nodded against the top of Evie’s head, feeling exhaustion finally beginning to pull at her.
“Just for a few minutes,” she agreed.
But as Evie’s breathing evened out beside her, Maggie lay awake, staring at the ceiling.
She didn’t feel reckless.
She didn’t feel ashamed.
She felt—unmistakably—changed.
There were lines she couldn’t redraw now. Choices she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t made.
And for the first time in a very long time, that didn’t feel like failure.
