I own nothing in the 100 universe. I just play with the characters and plots for my own devious purposes. :)
Clarke sat by the fire, deep in thought. In her head, she could see Raven's and Finn's romantic reunion playing over and over again. In any other situation, it would have made her smile to see someone get a happy ending for once. But mostly she just felt sick to her stomach. If she was a normal girl on earth-that-was, she'd have probably felt jealous and heartbroken. But, too many horrific things had happened in her life and most days she felt much older than 17. She didn't have time for mind games, and that's exactly what this whole charade boiled down to. What Clarke felt most was pissed the fuck off. She'd reluctantly let him into her head and her heart a little bit and now she was the unwitting mistress in some tawdry romance novel love triangle and she absolutely loathed the fact that Finn had cast her in this role without her informed consent. Well, she was not going to play her assigned role. Clarke had never been very good at taking orders. The only person she respected enough for that was dead, floated on the word of her own mother.
She felt someone watching her. This wasn't unusual; most people in camp were watching her in one way or another. In the beginning, their looks involved distrust and resentment due to her elite upbringing on the Ark. The dynamic had changed though, and many of them now looked at her with a certain amount of respect for her actions as their only semi-qualified medic. They also regarded her with cautious wariness now that she and Bellamy were working together to lead them. He was the de facto leader, but everyone saw how he listened to what Clarke had to say and looked to her on important matters. She cautiously glanced around and mentally sighed when she saw Finn standing at the edge of the group, watching her with that woeful look in his eyes like she was the one that had fucked him over. To make her nightmare complete, he approached.
"Clarke," he said, voice low and intimate, as though mere hours ago he hadn't been making out with Raven, his girlfriend, in the middle of the forest.
"Go away Finn," she ordered quietly. "I have nothing to say to you." She was acutely aware that everyone was watching them. They might not know that she and Finn had sex in the bunker, but they all saw how doggedly he pursued her and it was impossible to miss his passionate reunion with Raven. Not only had Finn forced her into playing the dirty mistress, but he'd also given everyone in camp more ammunition to use against her.
He grabbed her arm. "We need to talk," he said firmly. "Alone."
Clarke shook her arm loose. "No." She turned back to the fire, dismissively. She saw Bellamy watching them from across the fire, face impassive. What she didn't see was Raven, standing behind them, watching the scene with a confused and worried look on her face.
Finn tried to grab her arm again and pull her up from her seat. "We have to talk about this, Clarke. You have to give me time to explain everything."
Clarke yanked her arm free from his grip. "Don't touch me," she hissed. "You have a girlfriend, dumbass. I'm not going anywhere with you."
Finn frowned. "I thought I'd never see her again," he said.
Clarke sighed. "Go away," she repeated. She turned to the fire, trying to ignore him in hopes that she could avoid making even more of a scene than they already had. There were a lot of things she wanted to say to him; but she wasn't going anywhere with him alone. That just wasn't right when she knew from the look on his face that he still wanted her. But if he didn't leave her alone, she was going to have to make a scene to get her point across. It'd serve him right since he was the one that put her in this position. She met Bellamy's eyes briefly and his lips twitched slightly, amused.
Finn grabbed her face and turned her attention back to him. "Clarke," he implored.
This sent Clarke over the edge, and she no longer gave a shit about their audience. She stood up and backed away from Finn until she was close to Bellamy's seat. "Don't touch me," she snapped. "Listen carefully, Finn. We are nothing. There is nothing between us."
"You know that's not true," he said.
"Quit looking at me like that. You have no right. You have a girlfriend. A girlfriend you told me nothing about. A girlfriend that is so amazing that she frigging built a pod and broke a million laws to come be with you."
"Clarke, that doesn't change how I feel about you, and how you feel about me. I thought I'd never see Raven again. To me, our relationship was over and I didn't want to dwell on losing her, so I didn't talk about it. Coming to Earth was like making a fresh start, and that's what we did. Together." Finn stared at her lovingly.
Clarke stood up straighter and put her hands on her hips.
"Uh oh, Princess is pissed," she heard Bellamy grumble, and she fought the urge to smirk at him.
"I call bullshit," she said harshly, and enjoyed Finn's look of surprise that his smooth words weren't working on her anymore. "You didn't tell me because you knew how I'd react. You knew I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole if you told me about Raven. So you willfully misled me to get what you wanted. That's the lowest of the low. And what makes you even lower than Grounder slime is that you didn't just try to sleep with me. You tried to make me fall in love with you. You pursued me like a dog in heat; pulling out all the stops with the surprise "dates" and romantic looks. It's disgusting, and all I feel for you now is loathing."
"Clarke, I really care about you," Finn insisted. "I was pursuing you because there was something between us that was too strong to ignore. We've been through too much together to be torn apart by this."
Clarke burst out laughing. "Are you insane?" she asked. "We barely know each other."
Finn met her eyes meaningfully. "Coming to earth has been a nonstop rollercoaster, and every day has felt like a month. I feel like I've known you forever."
"That's not love, it's adrenaline," she said archly. "You do not deserve Raven. She's so awesome, I kinda wish I swung that way; I'd show her what it's like to be with someone with actual balls."
Bellamy burst out laughing, accompanied by the rest of their audience.
"Yeah, I'm starting to regret not swinging your way, too," a voice spoke from over her shoulder.
Clarke spun around, staring at the beautiful, angry girl behind her. Oh no! She had hoped that Raven would miss the floor show. She knew she'd hear the rumors about them since Finn had been very openly chasing her around since they landed, but she didn't want to publicly embarrass the girl.
"Raven!" she said, helplessly. "I am so sorry about all this."
Raven smiled grimly at her. "It's not your fault. I know you didn't know about me. And honestly?" She turned an expression of pure wrath on Finn. "I'm kind of glad it happened. It let me see Finn's true colors."
"Feel free to make out with each other to get revenge!" Bellamy interjected with a lascivious grin.
"Shut up," Finn snapped. "You're the biggest manwhore in camp. Nothing I could ever do would put me on your level."
"Hey," Clarke said sharply. "Leave Bellamy out of it; this has nothing to do with him. If you want to be pissed at someone; be pissed at yourself for being such a douchewad."
"Sure, defend him, like you always do." Finn's voice was petulant.
"Defend him?" Clarke parroted. "Since when do I defend him? I'm the one constantly butting heads with him about everything."
"Yeah, but you also have this weird respect thing going and when the shit hits the fan, he's the one you look to."
"What's between Bellamy and I is none of your damned business," Clarke replied hotly.
"You think we don't all see the tension between you two?" Finn responded bitterly. "You look at each other like you can't decide whether to rip each other apart or rip each other's clothes off."
"Even if that were true, again, it'd be none of your damned business," Clarke repeated. "You and I aren't together, Finn, and we'll never be together. So you get no say in what I do."
"I can't believe you're reading me the riot act, but defending him. What he does to girls is way worse."
"Actually, it's not."
"What?" His voice was incredulous.
"Bellamy doesn't lie and manipulate girls to get what he wants. They all know that he's not interested in a relationship; there are no illusions. When they sleep with him, they know it's completely casual and it's their choice whether or not to get involved."
"Right," Finn said, in disbelief. "Like he can have that constant revolving door harem of his without lying his ass off."
Clarke glanced at Bellamy giving him the full onceover, enjoying the brief look of shock in his eyes, and then back at Finn, expression skeptical. "Have you seen Bellamy?" she asked rhetorically. "Trust me; he doesn't need any help getting laid."
Bellamy chose that moment to interject again. "For the record, Princess? Neither do you." He returned her onceover with interest, his dark eyes promising all sorts of lovely things.
"Huh," she said breathlessly. "Good to know."
He held out his hand to her, body language a challenge. Oh yes, things between them would always be a challenge, of one sort or another. She smirked at him and took his hand, letting him tug her down next to him. Sitting so close to Bellamy was heady. Every inch of them that touched through their clothing burned. He wrapped a proprietary arm around her and instead of making her feel suffocated, she felt safe for the first time since coming to Earth. Their eyes met and she shivered at the dark promise there. She pointedly ignored Finn, who was staring at them like they'd suddenly sprouted another head (which down here, was totally possible). Instead, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against Bellamy's strong shoulder. She grabbed the hand that wasn't wrapped around her and started tracing faint patterns across his palm, feeling vindicated when he shivered and pulled her closer.
"You're playing with fire, Princess," he whispered, and the feel of his hot breath on her ear made her shudder in response.
'Bring it on,' she thought. They continued to sit together, Bellamy occasionally joining one of the conversations around them, while the tension between them ratcheted steadily upward. Clarke had never felt so alive and so on fire. After about 30 minutes of Finn trying to talk to her and Clarke completely ignoring him, he left.
She was finally able to relax and enjoy herself, a prospect that hadn't seemed possible since coming to Earth. There was something very deliberate about this thing with Bellamy that she hadn't experienced yet. Their lives on Earth had been fraught with disaster, death, and adrenaline. The times she'd let Finn close and opened up to him had been reactions to a life-changing event or revelation. But here, now, this had nothing to do with fear and near-death-experiences. This wasn't a reaction to the Finn drama, or a reaction to anything at all. It was all about Clarke and Bellamy and the connection they'd had since the beginning. He made an offer (challenge) and she chose to accept it. The purity of that was intoxicating. It was nice to make a decision that wouldn't result in someone's death.
An hour later and Clarke felt like she would burst. Bellamy's adventurous hands had made little trails of heat up and down her arm, her back, and had recently come to rest on the base of her neck, dexterous fingers massaging. She was vibrating with lust, and she decided it was time to take things up a notch. So, she grabbed his free hand, and very deliberately placed kisses along his palm, letting her tongue peak out and caress his flesh. Then, she blew on it. Bellamy actually growled. It was the hottest thing she'd ever heard, and she raised her eyes to meet his in challenge, blue clashing defiantly with dark brown. He stood abruptly, in the middle of a conversation, and dragged Clarke away from the fire. Once they were away from prying eyes, he pushed her back against a tree and claimed her mouth roughly with his. She opened instantly, welcoming his insistent tongue. His mouth was incredible, and she felt like she was flying. He pulled away abruptly, smirking at her whimper of protest.
"You've been a very naughty girl, Clarke," he rasped, and the sound of his lust filled words made her feel hot all over.
She met his eyes with a sultry expression. "Are you going to punish me?"
Bellamy's eyes darkened to nearly black in response. "Oh, fuck… Princess…" He kissed her again, pouring all his pent up frustration and lust into it, pinning her body against the tree. Clarke felt like she was burning up as she completely lost control. She wrapped one hand around his neck to tug on his hair, and the other reached down to grab his ass, pulling him roughly against her. The feel of him there, hard and ready, made her moan into his mouth. He ground into her, and she reflexively wrapped her legs around his waist. Her mouth left his reluctantly to take a breath and then groaned as he moved his lips to her neck.
"Oh fuck," she gasped.
He pulled back to look in her eyes, and she felt staggered by how much he needed her. It was heady knowing she could bring this powerful man to his knees. He glanced around, looking vaguely surprised that they were propped against a tree and could still hear people talking around the fire not far behind them.
"Let's get out of the woods," he said. As much as he wanted to take her right here and now, he knew it wasn't safe. Grounders could come at any second, and while camp was only marginally safer, at least it had numbers going for it, and people on watch. Plus, "What I have planned for you is going to take a while."
"Holy shit," Clarke exhaled breathily. She'd completely forgotten where they were too. Her dead father could've come up and tapped her on the shoulder and she'd have never noticed. Bellamy was intoxicating all on his own, and the two of them together was explosive. She'd always kind of suspected that would be the case, but even her wildest imaginings couldn't touch on the reality.
Bellamy rested his forehead against hers, chuckling as he rubbed their noses together. "I'm right there with you, Princess." His voice was unsteady and his eyes held a strange combination of lust and vulnerability.
Clarke decided to bail him out. "So, your place or mine?" she asked cheekily, pleased when he laughed.
"Mine," he said instantly, "more privacy." He met her eyes, suddenly wondering if she wouldn't want the stigma of being seen leaving his tent in the morning.
She caught his vulnerable expression after he suggested his place, and could tell what he was thinking. "Everyone else can go to hell."
"I just…" he started, not really knowing what he was trying to say. "You're different."
He paused, struggling for words. When he'd propositioned Clarke, he'd never really expected her to accept. He also hadn't expected just how strong the bond between them was when they weren't both fighting it tooth and nail. He reached out to her and she accepted, and that action destroyed all the carefully built walls between them and he was staggered by just how much he wanted her. All she did was rub the palm of his hand, and he almost came in front of the whole camp. When their lips finally met, it felt like his whole body was exploding from inside out. It was terrifying and incredible and suddenly he had no idea what the hell he'd gotten himself into. They'd opened this door, and now it was too late to go back. The intention was to have some really hot sex, but with one touch of their lips they were both down the rabbit hole.
Clarke wanted to chuckle at how awkward this conversation was, but she didn't want Bellamy to take it the wrong way and think she was laughing at him. The fact that he was even trying to talk about this was pretty epic. Apparently he was also taken surprise by the strength of their connection. She'd known it'd be incredible with him, but the two of them together was like dropping an H bomb in a volcano. All this and they hadn't even had sex yet. The way Bellamy was looking at her now, she wasn't sure whether she wanted to hug him or tie him up and do delicious things to him.
"Is this about Spacewalker?" he asked reluctantly, as though he hated the very notion of appearing insecure.
"No," she said firmly. "The fact that it also got Finn off my back was just an added bonus. I don't like the way he's constantly putting you down. It's one thing to disagree with you about issues in camp, but his attacks are personal. I think he's jealous because you're the only one that can get me to admit when I'm wrong." She glanced at him with amusement, "which rarely happens, of course!"
Bellamy chuckled, the throaty sound vibrating through her from head to toe. "Of course," he agreed.
"I'm not like Finn," she continued, "I don't play with people's emotions."
"I know," he said simply. "Normally I wouldn't give a shit if I was being used, because it goes both ways. But this is different somehow." He paused. "I can't do this if you're going to regret it and sneak out of my tent in the middle of the night," he admitted, refusing to meet her eyes.
Clarke felt her breath catch in her throat. She carefully reached out a hand and turned his head slightly so their eyes met. She trapped his beautiful dark eyes with hers.
"I'm not going to regret it," she vowed. Then she smirked. "Unless of course, you don't do your job right."
Bellamy growled and attacked her mouth, tongue tangling with hers while he pressed her against the tree. When he pulled away, he said, "I'm going to do my job so well, you aren't going to have one scrap of clothing intact tomorrow morning and you'll have to wear mine."
Clarke moaned at his words, suddenly picturing him doing exactly that. "Tent. Now," she ordered, kissing him hard and rubbing their bodies together.
He pulled away slightly and grabbed her by the hand, tugging her urgently in the direction of his tent. She struggled a little, legs uncoordinated with lust. The looks he kept giving her along the way made her stumble all over again. What felt like years later, but was probably only minutes, they reached their destination. Bellamy opened the tent flap and led Clarke inside. Pulling her to a standstill in front of him, he looked her up and down.
"Gotta frisk you for weapons," he said huskily, running his hands over her ass and up her back. He leaned in close, breath hot on her neck as he gave her a thorough pat-down over her clothes. He found a knife in her front pocket at dropped it on the crate he used as a table. He kneeled down and started to untie her sneakers. "Better make sure you don't have anything hidden in these." He pulled off her sneakers and socks, and then his own, chucking the offending footwear away. Clarke, impatient, reached down and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him back up.
"My turn," she said triumphantly, reaching around to grab his ass.
She squeezed firmly, and then continued to explore his body outside his clothes. She found three knives secreted away and added them to the pile on the crate. Bellamy leaned in and captured her lips in a hot kiss. Clarke ran her hands up into his hair and tugged sharply, earning a moan. Driven by the need to be as close as possible, she jumped up slightly and wrapped her legs around his waist, trusting him to be able to carry her weight. She hissed at the heady feel of their bodies pressed together. He wrapped his hands around her, keeping her tightly pressed against him while he navigated the few feet to his bed. Gently, he dropped her down on her back and then lowered his body to line up with hers. They both groaned at the sensation.
"Clothes!" she ordered, as she nibbled the space behind his ear.
He chuckled. "Well, I did make a promise to a lady." With that, he grabbed the base of her t-shirt and ripped it up the front. He took a moment to enjoy the debauched picture she made, lying on his bed, eyes gone navy with lust, breasts heaving in her bra. He ran a finger along the underside of it.
"Don't even think about it," Clarke snapped. "It's my only one. Unless you're OK with the whole camp watching me bounce around braless?" Her tone was all challenge.
Bellamy growled at the thought of all the guys getting a free show. Seeing Clarke's triumphant expression, he knew that's what she'd been aiming for. He pulled her up slightly, into his body, and tore off the remnants of the t-shirt. Then, he undid the clasps of her bra and gently pulled it off. He theatrically folded it into small squares and placed it reverently on the crate. He was rewarded with an amused giggle from the beautiful blonde below him.
Clarke was blown away by the free and happy smile on Bellamy's face as he looked down at her. There was a shit ton of lust there, too, and it made her wish she had magic powers so she could vanish all their clothes. He leaned over suddenly and licked both of her nipples, blowing hot air across them.
"Oh fuck," Clarke moaned, arching up into his mouth. Her clothes weren't even completely off yet and she felt like she was going to come.
Bellamy smirked at her reaction, and his hands went rest on her waist and stopped. He met her eyes in question. She nodded so vigorously it startled a laugh out of him as he began to tug them down. He tossed the pants over his shoulder with a flourish, loving the smile it brought to her face. He paused, blown away by the picture she presented, in just her underwear.
"You're beautiful," he whispered reverently, running gentle hands up her legs as he hovered over her again.
Clarke blushed, and then tugged anxiously at his shirt hem. "Strip," she ordered. He hurriedly complied, reaching down to grab the hem so he could yank the shirt over his head. "Stop!" Clarke said, putting a restraining hand on his arm. He looked at her in question, worried that she was changing her mind. She met his eyes in challenge. "I meant strip… you know, for real." She waved a hand imperiously at him.
He looked shocked for a moment at her request, but then, after a protracted moment, he stood languidly. Giving her his best 'come hither' smile, he ran his hands down his chest and started to play with the button on his pants. Clarke let out a cheer and gave him a lascivious wink. He popped the button open and then ran his hand back up his chest, doing a little shimmy with his hips. Clarke burst out laughing and yelled,
"Oh yeah, take it off!"
He smirked and grabbed the hem of his shirt. Then, he twirled around so his back was facing her, and raised his arms above his head, pulling the shirt off with them. He swung it around a few times before tossing it over his head in her general direction. Clarke reached out and grabbed the shirt, squealing like a school girl as she did so. She held it up to her face, loving the scent of him. He somehow managed to smell like woods and leather and man without having the heavy funk you'd expect after this long with no real showers.
Bellamy peeked over one shoulder at her and winked, eyes full of mischief. It was incredible watching someone so normally controlled totally get into the spirit of it. It struck her suddenly how young the two of them were, and it was nice to have this opportunity to act their ages. It was like the walls of the tent shut out the rest of the world, and when they were inside, they could be whoever they wanted. Bellamy grabbed her attention by dropping his pants to the floor, still facing away from her, and then purposefully bent over in slo-mo to step out of them. He tossed them over his head. Wow, he had an incredible ass. She licked her lips, and she caught him smirking as he saw her expression through his bent legs.
He stood back up slooooowly, running his hands up his legs and over his fabulous butt. He put his hands on his hips and then wiggled around to shake his ass at her. Finally, he dropped the boxers, and spun around as he whipped them at her. She was so enthralled with the frontal view that the cloth smacked her in the face. She heard him chuckle as she tossed them aside so she could see him better. He was even better looking than she imagined. And yes, she'd imagined it!
"Woohoo!" she cheered. She ripped off her panties and threw them at him. He caught them deftly and his eyes darkened again as they focused fully on her naked form.
He lowered himself to the bed and crawled up her body until they were aligned. Clarke instinctively arched up into him, causing him to moan needily. He bent down and captured her lips. They felt like velvet against his. Having their naked skin touching from head to toe sent small explosions off in his head. He'd never needed anyone as much as he needed this girl. He felt a sudden wave of possessiveness wash over him. Uh oh. He was in trouble. Clarke wrapped her legs around his ass, forcing them closer together. He groaned at the delicious friction. He'd always known Clarke would be the death of him.
He moved his lips away from her mouth, smiling at the whimper of protest. He trailed them down the graceful column of her neck and finally over her breasts. They were perfect. He took turns lavishing each one, relishing in the throaty moans he tugged from her lips. She was so responsive; he could almost come just from listening to her. He mentally filed that thought away for later experimenting. Clarke tugged sharply at his hair when he tried to pull away from her breasts.
"Patience, Princess," he teased, voice throaty, and lips red and plump from kissing. When he met her eyes, he was gratified to see the effect he had on her.
He continued his exploration down her body, stopping to kiss her stomach and poke his tongue into her belly button, which startled a laugh out of her. Then, he kissed both thighs, scooting up a bit to give her room to spread her legs. 'Ooh, flexible!' his inner teenage boy thought lasciviously. He took a peek at her face, and saw that she looked surprised. 'Spaceboy must not have been as much of an explorer as he claims,' he inwardly mused. He raised a brow in question, and when she nodded her permission he continued his mission to ruin her for all other men. First, he blew on the mound between her legs.
"Oh, fuck," Clarke hissed, hips lurching up in response.
Bellamy used his hands to spread her legs further, and pressed gentle kisses on the insides of her thighs, letting his tongue out a little to make a wet trail. Then he blew hot air on it. Clarke moaned and jumped again. He placed his hands firmly on each thigh to hold her in place, and began kissing and licking in earnest. Finally, he gave an experimental kiss to her clit.
"Ngg! Bellamy…" Clarke was staring down at him, blue eyes so dark they were nearly black. She was caressing her breasts absentmindedly as she watched him. It was Bellamy's turn to moan.
He turned back to his prize and licked a stripe over her clit, pausing to blow on it after. "Mmm," he murmured, lips vibrating against her and making her cry out, "you taste delicious."
The combination of his lips and tongue and vibrating voice made Clarke scream as she climaxed. "Fuck," she exhaled as she came down. The sight of Clarke coming nearly made Bellamy lose it. She grabbed him and yanked him up so he was on top of her. "I need you inside me, now!" she ordered breathlessly.
"Fuck," he hissed, lining himself up with her wet core and plunging in. He paused once he was fully inside, letting them both adjust. "Clarke," he groaned. "You feel incredible."
Clarke could only respond with a loud moan, as she recovered and snapped her hips upward, demanding that he move. He willingly complied, wrapping her legs around his hips and holding her in place to make his thrusts more forceful. She didn't have a lot of experience to compare it to, but Bellamy was incredible at this. Everything about him was a giant turn-on, from his powerful aura to his ridiculously sexy body. And he knew how to use all of it to maximum advantage. She had the worrying notion that he was ruining her for all other men. His mouth was insane, and the things he'd done with it… she'd read about them in books, but had never experienced it for herself. God, was she missing out.
She felt a little bad for not returning the favor, but she needed this: him inside her. There'd be time to experiment with other things later. He plunged in and out and after a while, she was able to time her own thrusts to counter his. His cock was the perfect size, keeping her right at the threshold between pleasure and pain. She dug her nails into his back to aid in her thrusts, and reveled in the sound of his husky voice crying out. She had the sudden urge to change things up.
She slowed down a bit to get his attention. "Roll over," she commanded. His expression turned from confusion to his trademark smirk.
"Why am I not surprised you want to be on top, Princess?" he chuckled, voice raspy with lust and exertion.
"Well, you really need to learn to take turns," she said archly, voice equally breathless.
He rolled over onto his back and pulled Clarke on top of them, somehow managing not to pull out of her. She squirmed around a bit and adjusted until she found a comfortable position on top of him, hands on his chest as she started to ride him.
"Oh fuck," he moaned. "You are so hot." He started to thrust his hips upward in time with hers.
"Ooooh," she replied. "This makes you go even deeper." She leaned back a little, bouncing up and down like a porn star. She decided to tease him a little, so she took her hands off his chest and rubbed them over her breasts, tweaking each nipple.
His eyes, if possible, went even darker and he growled at her as his thrusts increased in tempo. "Fuck…. Yes…" he hissed.
Clarke looked downward to where their bodies were joined. The sight of his cock sliding in and out of her made her feel dizzy with lust. There was something so primal and erotic about it. She met Bellamy's faster thrusts and locked eyes with his. She wanted to watch his face while he came.
"I'm so close," she said raggedly.
"Uhn… me too…"
Another minute of thrusting and Clarke came again. The feel of her clenching around him sent Bellamy over the edge right behind her. The world exploded in a miasma of bright lights, followed by darkness in the afterglow. Clarke slumped against Bellamy, whimpering as he softened and slid out of her. She collapsed against his chest, and he wrapped his arms instinctively around her, holding her in place as they waited for their brains to get back online again. A few minutes later, Clarke broke the silence.
"Fuck, why did we wait so long to do that?" she wondered.
Bellamy's laugh was pure and true. "Must be the radiation."
Clarke snuggled her face against his neck. "How do you smell so good all the time?"
Bellamy ran a hand gently up and down her back as she relaxed against him. "It's just my natural scent, Princess."
"Mmm," she murmured as she snuggled in again. She was so comfortable and blissed out she didn't want to move for at least a year. "Am I squishing you?"
Bellamy's voice was a low rumble against her. "You're fine." One of his wandering hands came to rest on her lower back, and the other tangled in her hair.
Clarke closed her eyes and relaxed fully. She was very happy Bellamy was a snuggler. She tried to keep her thoughts at bay, but they crept up on her in the comfortable silence. This had become so much more than they had planned. What was going to happen now? She felt like such a cliché, wanting to keep the untamable lion for herself. She knew his approach to sex. She hadn't come into this expecting to feel so possessive over him. She was fighting the urge to mark him as hers. What the fuck was up with that? She knew he felt that this was different too, at least to an extent, because he made a point of telling her he couldn't sleep with her if she was going to regret it. She knew he felt their connection just as strongly as she did, but she wasn't sure if he actually wanted to do something about it. She decided to be a big girl and just ask him about it.
"I have a problem," she said quietly.
She felt the slightest stiffening from his body at her words. "What's that, Princess?" His tone was suddenly guarded.
"I think you've ruined me for other men," she said lightly, hoping he might get the seriousness of her intent behind the levity.
Bellamy's body relaxed beneath hers again, and she wondered what he thought she was going to say. "That was the plan," he said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice, but there was also a touch of gravity.
"Have I ruined you for other women?" she asked, deciding to just get it out there.
"Yes," he said simply, arms wrapping more tightly around her. She lifted her head so she was looking into his beautiful, dark eyes. "Just the thought of you with anyone else makes me murderous." His eyes held a challenge. "Can you handle that?"
Clarke nodded solemnly. "Just as long as you know it goes both ways. If I'm yours, then you're mine. I don't share well."
Bellamy chuckled darkly. "Neither do I."
"I have no idea what I'm doing," Clarke admitted. "I was not planning on feeling like this after sleeping with you. I just thought it'd be really hot. Which it was, but I underestimated the effect it would have on me. I've never been in a relationship before. Never really wanted one."
Bellamy nodded. "Once I realized I was willing to turn you down if this was about Finn, I knew I was in trouble."
"So, what will you be telling your harem?" she wondered.
He smirked. "That I won't be needing their services anymore."
"They won't be happy."
"Fuck it," he said idly, not seeming very concerned.
Just thinking about the other girls in camp throwing themselves at Bellamy made her growl. She sat up and straddled him. His head turned so that his dark eyes met hers, looking surprised at her sudden change in position. She knew her eyes burned with the possessive jealousy she was feeling.
"Well, they can't have you," she said, voice low and sibilant. "You're mine." She enjoyed the sight of his eyes darkening at her words and tone. "Say it," she ordered, running her nails over his nipples and grinding down on him.
Bellamy smirked and shook his head.
Clarke leaned down and bit his nipples, hard enough to hurt, and then soothed them with her tongue. She raked her nails down Bellamy's chest, following the path they made with her mouth. She licked his belly button and then blew hot air over it. Bellamy bucked upward instinctively and moaned loudly.
"Fuck," he hissed. "Princess…"
Clarke ignored him and laid a trail of kisses over his stomach, making a steady path downward. She looked up and met his eyes, expression devious. Then she proceeded to kiss and lick every inch of him except his cock. He groaned and tried to buck his hips upward to get her to touch him where he needed it most. She straddled his lower legs and used her weight to hold him down. She blew hot air over his straining cock but then proceeded to ignore it again, licking a stripe up the inside of his left thigh. She had no idea where she was getting this brazenness from; her experience with sex was very limited. Something about Bellamy brought out her inner vixen.
"Please…" he begged, and she loved having the power to make this incredible man beg for her.
She looked him in the eyes, expression demanding. "Say it," she prompted.
"I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours!" he growled.
Clarke rewarded him by engulfing his cock in her hot mouth, swirling her tongue around the head so she could feel it from all sides. She'd never thought she'd particularly like this part of sex, but Bellamy's cock was incredible. It smelled like him and she loved how it pulsed inside her mouth. He yelled out something unintelligible, and bucked his hips up. Clarke backed off so she wouldn't choke, and then tightened her lower body around his legs to keep him still. She continued to lick and suck her prize while fondling his balls with her fingers. After a while, his thrusts got more erratic.
"I'm gonna come!" he gasped in warning.
Clarke ignored him and kept sucking. A few seconds later, he jerked suddenly and warm sluices of come spurted inside her mouth. She wasn't experienced in swallowing that much liquid at once, so some of it dribbled down her chin. Bellamy collapsed against the floor, spent. When he opened his eyes to look at her, his skin was flushed and his pupils blown. He looked gorgeous. He sucked in a breath when he saw the come on her chin.
"Clarke," he rasped out, sitting up suddenly to cradle her face in his. "You look so fucking hot like this." He licked the come off her face and then kissed her deeply, running his tongue all over the inside of her mouth.
He reached down and ran his fingers along her dripping folds. The thought that she still had his come inside her made him semi-hard again despite coming twice in a short period of time. The way she took control and ordered him around took him by surprise. What further took him by surprise is how much it turned him on. He probably shouldn't be surprised since it was Clarke's commanding behavior and refusal to submit to his will that drew him to her so strongly. Now, it was his turn to be in control and claim his prize. Her sky blue eyes were darkened with lust, and it was gratifying that she enjoyed sucking him off almost as much as he had. He met her eyes challengingly, silently asking if she was willing to play along. She arched a brow as if to say, 'Bring it on.'
"Get on all fours," he ordered, voice brooking no room for argument.
She watched him curiously for a moment, before complying. The sight of her on all fours, perky naked ass in his face made him quiver with desire. Everything about her was red hot. He kneeled behind her and ran his hands along her back, loving the feel of her soft, pale skin. He ran them down her thighs on the outside, and then back up on the inside. She moaned softly as they brushed against her folds briefly before pulling away. She whimpered in protest. He draped himself over her, hips to ass, chest to back. He ran his hands over her stomach and up to cup her breasts, tweaking her nipples.
"Ung… Bellamy…" she hissed, thrusting her ass backward into his cock.
"Uhn uhn, naughty Princess," he said, breath hot against her ear. "Not yet." She groaned as he ran his right hand down her stomach and rubbed it against her folds. "You're so wet for me." He played with her clit. When she was close to coming, he pulled his hand away.
"Fuck, Bellamy, please!" she begged.
He pulled away from her body entirely until he was kneeling behind her again. Then, he ran his hands over her ass, placing went kisses on her cheeks. He spread her legs as far as he could, and then darted his tongue out. Clarke dropped her face down to the floor to change the angle so he could lick her dripping folds.
"Oh God," Clarke screamed.
Bellamy pulled his mouth away and draped himself over her again, thrusting his cock deep inside her vagina. He wrapped his arms possessively around her body, running his nails over her nipples while he thrust brutally in and out.
"Say you're mine, Clarke," he demanded.
"Ngh! I'm yours!" she gasped helplessly, body completely under his command.
Bellamy's grin was feral and triumphant as he sped up the pace, making sure that every thrust hit her inner walls. He pulled his hand away from her nipples and ran it down her body to touch her clit. The combination of the dual stimulation had Clarke shrieking a constant stream of gibberish. A few strokes later and she came explosively, and once again the feel of her around him brought Bellamy with her. They rode out their high together until eventually Clarke collapsed face first on the bed. Bellamy managed to sprawl next to her so he didn't crush her small body. He twisted so he was on his side, facing her and rubbed his hand over her back soothingly. Clarke turned her head to face him and grinned, blissful and uninhibited.
"Wow…" she murmured, clearly not able to find her words yet.
Bellamy just grinned in pure male satisfaction and preened a little.
Clarke chuckled, voice low and throaty and post-orgasmic and it gave him the shivers despite the fact that he'd just come for the third time in 30 minutes. She twisted around so she was on her side too, facing him. She put a hand on his chest. They laid there just enjoying the afterglow for a while, not feeling the need to talk. They drifted off to sleep, both physically and mentally exhausted.
When Clarke woke the following morning she was hit by several facts in quick succession: first, she wasn't in her tent; second, she hadn't woken up once from nightmares; and third, she felt comfortable and safe. There were arms around her. Bellamy's arms! Her brain whirred as she remembered the events of the previous evening. Holy fucking shit… she grew a little damp just thinking about how hot that had been. She opened her eyes and was rewarded with a sleeping Bellamy. They were situated face to face, and his arm was draped over her stomach to rest on her back. He looked so calm and peaceful in sleep. He didn't exude any of the power that he did while awake; when he was asleep he actually looked his age. She could get used to this: getting a good night's sleep and waking up to this beautiful boy. She hoped the ravages of life on Earth didn't rip them apart. Bellamy twitched, nose scrunching up cutely, and then his eyes blinked sleepily open. They focused on hers instantly, and she watched as he caught up with current events in his head like she had. He watched her warily, probably waiting to see what her reaction would be in the cold light of day.
"Morning," she said, smiling at him in reassurance. His lips twitched upward in response.
"Morning, Princess." His voice was low and husky with sleep and it made Clarke shiver. She scooted closer and he wrapped his free arm obligingly around her.
"How did you sleep?" she wondered.
"Like a boy that got supremely lucky last night," he smirked. "You?"
"Best sleep ever," she admitted. "No nightmares."
His smile was genuine, clearly happy that being around him made her feel safe. He rolled onto his back, pulling Clarke with him. She draped herself over his body and nuzzled her cheek into his chest. They enjoyed a rare moment of peace as they took in the early morning sounds of the local fauna coming to life. Whatever came next, they would face it together.