A/N: Enjoy Everyone!
Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers.
No Light, No Light by Florence and the Machines
Would you leave me,
If I told you what I've done
And would you need me,
If I told you what I've become?
'Cause it's so easy
To say it to a crowd
But it's so hard, my love,
To say it to you out loud
Resolutions- Chapter 21- Floating
Clarke was lost.
She was lost in the feeling of Bellamy.
This moment was not like other times when Bellamy had kissed her and held her. Here, she was loved by him, and he was using every motion, every kiss, every feeling to show her the extent of his all-consuming love.
The intensity and power of their mutual love seemed to light the room in a blistering blaze.
She desperately gripped his shoulders as he ravished her mouth.
His attention soon switched from her mouth to her neck. His lips moved away from her mouth, drifting across her jawline, lingering near her ear, and then gently ghosting across her neck. She shivered in excited response.
He placed a gentle, open mouth kiss on her neckline, then another on the dip of her clavicle. She squirmed slightly as she felt the sharp edge of his teeth graze her neck. She arched as the stinging pain was quickly soothed by two slow swipes of his wet, warm tongue.
Clarke lost track of time as he slowly worshiped her exposed skin.
During that time, Bellamy had somehow managed to roll her onto her back and was hovering over her prone body. Leisurely, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers for one more lingering kiss before pulling back and catching her eyes.
Clarke didn't react except to extend her hand out and delicately brush a wayward curl out of his face.
He watched her carefully. Clarke could tell that he wanted to say something. His eyes seemed to change color as pure trepidation crossed his face. She could see fear, anger, and frustration brewing in his eyes. She tried to convey in her eyes that she loved him, cared for him, and would never leave him again.
He must've understood because he dropped his body more heavily against hers and mashed his lips against hers. She nearly gasped when she felt his tongue thrust into her mouth.
There was something desperate in the way he moved; like he would lose her if he let go of her even a little. She tried to push back against his tongue, swirling them together in a domineering battle, but soon became lost in the motions.
She whined in pleasure as his hand snuck underneath her loose shirt. His hands roughly cupped her breasts. She was practically writhing underneath him as his mouth moved to nip at the sensitive patch of skin on her neck and his finger pinched her nipple.
"Bellamyyy," she moaned breathlessly. She didn't know if it was a question, the beginning of a demand, or a pray, but he smirked anyways.
"Off?" He asked, tugging at her shirt a little.
"Now," She groaned in response. In less than a second, Bellamy was sitting back up and had his fingers at the hem of her shirt, pulling it upwards over her raised arms. He pulled at the shirt with one final tug until it was off and flying across the room.
Clarke laughed and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back down until he was hovering over her again. His large hands were resting on both sides of her head, creating a solid cage around her. She bit her lip, eyeing the ripple of muscles in his arms as he attempted to keep most of his weight off of her small frame.
He smirked a beautiful, crooked smile at her in response to her obvious scrutinizing. His hand caressed the skin of her waistline.
"I really don't want you to tease me today. Please, don't stop," she begged, peering up at him through her eyelashes. She bit down on her pouting lower lip.
"Not a fucking chance in hell, Princess," he groaned and put his hand on her hip, dragging her hips closer to his. His eyes darted to her face, hoping to see the same burning desire that was in his eyes.
The lust inside of him quickly fizzled as he noticed a pained mien cross her face. She bit down on her lip, and her shoulders became hunched.
Bellamy froze.
"Hey," he murmured softly. "What's wrong?" His fingers lightly stroked her cheek.
Clarke opened her mouth to speak but quickly clamped her lips together. She stared at him with a fearful expression. Tears slowly began to leak from the corners of her eyes.
"Clarke, baby. Whatever it is I can help," he soothed.
"I don't want to tell you, Bel. I'm scared that you will be angry over what I did."
Bellamy frowned.
"What did you do?"
Clarke chewed on her bottom lip.
"You promised me that you would be honest with me."
Clarke sighed at his words. He was right again. Even though she was petrified at the thought that he might be angry, she had to trust him.
Instead of talking, Clarke leaned down and unzipped the bottom of her pants. Bellamy's eyes were locked on the movement. As the zipper hit the last groove, Clarke moved her hands to her waistband and began to pull it down.
Bellamy's hand stilled her movements.
"What are you doing?" His voice was rough, and she could sense the frustration at her lack of an answer.
"Trust me."
Bellamy stared at her for another second or two before he let go and curiously watched as she pulled the waistband down exposing her hip and the upper portion of her thin, black cotton underwear. His eyes shifted back and forth between her eyes and the exposed hip.
She didn't know if he could see it, but just the tip of a dark bruise peeked out from the waistband of the dark cotton.
"They needed bone marrow, Bel. We had just one bargaining chip that they wanted."
"What did you do, Clarke?" Bellamy demanded, but Clarke knew from the horrified expression on his face that he had figured it out.
His fingers snaked out and grasped the fabric pulling it out of the way exposing deep blue and black splotches near the rear of her hipbone. A small raised mark in the center of the bruises showed exactly where a needle pierced her skin to gather bone marrow.
"They did this to you?" He whispered.
"Yes, but I let them." His fingers trailed over her skin. She flinched a little. His hand recoiled back a few inches.
"Did that hurt?"
"Not from your touch. Moving around hurts more than anything."
"And when they did it?"
"That was worse. They didn't do much to help with the pain." A look of agony crossed his face.
"You shouldn't have gone through that," he growled.
"You're angry," she assumed. Her voice was blank and void of emotion, but her eyes gave her away. She used the back of her hand to rub roughly at the wet skin underneath her crystal blue eyes, but fresh tears just replaced the ones she got rid of.
Bellamy slowly shook his head at her.
"Princess, I am angry that you were hurt. I'm angry that you went through it alone. I am angry that you didn't tell me, but I'm not angry with you for allowing that to happen."
Clarke's lower lip trembled.
"You will be."
Bellamy sighed and leaned forward again, clearing the tears off of her cheek.
"No. I won't," he argued. His voice was firm and unwavering as he looked at Clarke.
"Yeah, you will. Bellamy, I didn't just promise my bone marrow to free myself. I had to get everyone out of there alive. If I didn't get them the bone marrow that they needed, then we would still be missing or dead."
Bellamy stared at her in confusion. She could see the gears in his head turn as he tried to figure out what she meant.
"How much bone marrow?" He finally asked
"Enough for three hundred people. I alone wouldn't have enough marrow to do that. They had already harvested on Monty, Harper, as well as a few others. For it to work, they would have had to harvest all of the 100. I made a more lasting deal."
She paused hoping that he would catch on.
"I'm still not exactly sure what you really promised or even what went on in Mount Weather."
Clarke began to tell Bellamy about what happened in the mountain. He listened to her recount the story of what happened when she woke up in Mount Weather without interrupting. When she told him of how Miller had grabbed her and threw her against the bunk bed, she could see the tick in his jaw start.
"They were scared, Bel."
"It doesn't matter," he muttered.
Clarke rolled her eyes at Bellamy.
"It looked like a war zone, and from what I heard, it was. They put up a hell of a fight."
"Of course, they did."
Clarke gave him a small smile at the look of pride on his face. He was acting as if the 100 were his kids and he was the proud father watching them take their first step.
"Jasper said that after Monty disappeared things escalated fast. Instead of just one person going missing after a 'medical exam,' the Mountain men tried to take two kids without any answers. When Jasper realized what was happening, he let the other members of the 100 know what they were doing. They made a plan, found weapons, and began forming a blockade to defend themselves."
"Jasper did that?"
"They've changed. All of them."
"What happened to the ones that were taken?"
"Three died. There was too much damage done to their bodies. Fox was still alive when I was there, but I couldn't help her."
Bellamy grasped her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. He knew that exact feeling of loss when someone died under his watch.
"Who made it?"
"Monty, Harper, Grant, and Willow."
"And they are okay?"
"No, they are definitely not okay. They went through their own hell. I had the surgery, Bel. There isn't an IV or any pain relief, and I had a choice. They didn't. They were forced into a room where they were bound, visionless, and scared to death. And then when that wasn't enough, someone decided to shove a rod into their hip without anesthesia. Monty is broken. He wouldn't talk to Jasper or me. In the two weeks that we were in Mount, he didn't say a word to anyone other than Miller."
"It will get better when he adjusts."
"I really hope so." Clarke huffed and flopped back on the bed. "They have been in so much pain since we arrived on this planet. When we arrived at the camp this morning, they were terrified even though I promised them that it was safe. How sad is that?"
Bellamy leaned so that he was hovering over her body.
"Survival of the fittest, Clarke. They adapted to that model. But now everyone is safe, and it will be our job to help them recover."
He smiled down at her.
"Bel, I couldn't guarantee complete safety against Mount Weather. It's like I said, we are bound to Mount Weather through that treaty. Every single one of those people will need to have the surgery before our deal is done. Everyone in camp here has to fulfill that promise."
The smile slipped off his face as he finally realized what she meant.
"Everyone?"
"I guess not everyone, but most. Young children wouldn't have to donate of course," she clarified quietly.
"Does your mom know?"
"Yes. I left her a bit shell-shocked by the news, but in the end, she agreed that it was for the best. She will work with Mount Weather to develop a safer practice to extract the marrow, but in two weeks Mount Weather will be free to go to the surface without fear of radiation poisoning."
"Two weeks."
"Maybe sooner, but I doubt it. The surgery can be a real bitch," she stated, smirking just a little out of the corner of her mouth.
Bellamy stopped for a moment. Clarke reached and brushed her hand through his hair. She reveled in the feeling of his soft, thick curls clinging to her delicate fingers. She could see there was something that he wanted to say.
"What, Bel?"
"You found the one solution to prevent a war between our people," he murmured quietly.
Clarke bit her lip and looked at him through her long, dark eyelashes.
"We do what we have to survive, right? Are you upset?"
Clarke was waiting for the bomb to drop. He hadn't yelled, hadn't criticized her, hadn't even told her off. It was only a matter of time before he flipped his lid.
But, the bomb didn't go off.
Instead, he said, "No, right now I am just amazed. Think about it; when we landed, most of us were a bunch of miscreants, and you were just the rejected council princess sent to Earth to die. The council didn't think we would survive, but we did. The other adults from Camp Jaha didn't believe that they could stop the Grounders, but you did. You stopped that war, and you stopped a war with Mount Weather."
He softly chuckled.
"I used to hate everything about you. I thought your ways would get people hurt, but I was completely wrong." He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. "I'm amazed by you, Princess."
This time, when he bent down, he placed a lingering kiss on her lips. Clarke let her body get caught in the gentle tug of his soft lips. When he began to move away and off of her bod, she grumbled in annoyance, grabbing on to his shirt and holding him still.
"Don't pull away this time," she demanded.
He looked at her with an agonized expression. His hand lightly tucked a silky tendril of hair behind her ear.
"With you being hurt, we can't do anything tonight, baby. I can't hurt you."
"You won't." Clarke brought her hand up to his face and slowly pulled him forward. He stubbornly resisted. "We have waited too long for this. I trust you, and I know you won't hurt me."
Bellamy still wasn't moving. Clark could feel her cheeks flush a little. Rejection and embarrassment were stewing in her.
"I love you. And you love me. Show me that." Her fingers clung to his shirt. Her knuckles were slowly turning a pale white as she clung to him.
The look of apprehension faded into obscurity as he listened to the words flow out of his mouth. A gentle smile graced his face as he looked down at her.
"I have your back," he murmured.
"Me too," she said, beaming back at him.
This time, when they kissed, she didn't have to pull him towards her mouth. They were meeting each other as equals; as partners.
She could feel his body slowly pressing down on her. She sighed as their bodies met, melding together in a tight embrace.
He moved back a millimeter from her face, "Is this too much?" His breath gently grazed across her skin, flooding her with a gut-wrenching feeling. Her lips parted, but no words were able to spill. Her head shook slightly.
"I love you," he murmured.
Clarke's eyes welled with unshed tears as her chest seemed to constrict from the words.
"I love you, too."
Always. The unspoken word in her head became a silent mantra as she slid her hands down the front of his clothed chest until her fingers danced around the bottom of his shirt. She gently began tugging the shirt up and over his head, refusing to break eye-contact until she had too.
The voice inside her head wanted her to look at his body; to see his olive skin, ribbed stomach muscles, and the light trail of hair that led down south, but her eyes couldn't seem to leave his. The tenderness and adoration in them left her feeling ensnared in his chocolate brown gaze.
After a moment, Clarke could feel Bellamy's hands slip behind her body. The warmth of his palms slid up her back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their path. She felt his fingers start to work on the small metal clips that held her bra in place.
A look of pure concentration clouded his expression, but he couldn't seem to get it off.
She arched her back to help him gain better access to the material. When she felt the material begin to slouch down, she couldn't help but laugh at the victorious smirk that garnered Bellamy's face.
His smile widened as he cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Are you laughing at me?"
The smile slipped off her face as she tried to put a look of complete innocence on her face and shook her head. She even batted her eyelashes at him.
"Well, that's a shame, because if you were, I have a few ways to fix that."
"Well then, maybe I was laughing, but just a little bit," she smirked at him flirtatiously. Bellamy froze and narrowed his eyes before he quickly grabbed at the straps of her bra and snatched them away from her body. He flung the bra over his shoulder as if it had caused him a great personal injustice.
"Are you still laughing, Princess," he asked wickedly.
"Yes."
Bellamy quickly leaned forward and buried his face in between her breasts. Using his lips and tongue, he lavished the skin there with attention. Shocked by the suddenness of his action, a bolt of electricity shot towards her core, inciting a heavy cry from her lips.
He continued to trail wet kisses between her breasts back and forth until she couldn't stand it. She took her hands off of his shoulders and dug them into his dark, silky curls, forcing his head towards her right breast.
He hissed in pain-filled pleasure from her hands, but took her insistent suggestion and began to softly tease her breast.
Whimpers escaped her mouth as she felt his tongue circle one areole, before flicking his tongue against her pink nub. Her other breast was preoccupied with his thumb and forefinger. His long fingers continued rolling her nipple between the two fingers until it was fully elongated.
She clenched her thighs together as he switched breasts, sucking her nipple into his mouth. She arched up against him as she felt the dampness of her core saturating her panties.
"Please, please, Bellamy." The pleas fell from her mouth subconsciously as she continued to try to alleviate the building tension in her legs.
Bellamy pulled back and gently pushed her legs apart so that he could settle in between them. His pupils were completely dilated as he stared into her wide, lust-filled eyes.
"God, you look so fucking good right now," Bellamy crooned. His voice was rough, and so goddamn sexy that Clarke felt lightening zip through her body towards her clit as his words flooded through her head.
Bellamy leaned back down and captured her face with his hands. He forced her lips against his, biting and pulling at her lower lip before thrusting his tongue into her mouth.
She matched his movements, using her hands to scratch up and down his back. She loved the way his muscles twitched and shivered under her fingers.
She could feel his fingers dance down her neck, trace over her breast, and trail down her stomach.
His lips curl up into a smile as he felt her stomach muscles clench in anticipation.
"These need to go," he growled snapping the waistband of her pants against her skin.
She raised her hips up in response. Bellamy sat up onto his knees and grasped the material with his long, agile fingers and guided the material down her legs. When he reached the bottom, he tugged one boot off and then the other.
She rose up on her elbows and watched as he gently pulled the socks off of her delicate feet. Bellamy grabbed her ankle and slowly brought it to his lips. She could feel the whispery brush of his mouth on her skin.
Bellamy lowered her leg back onto the fur blanket on her bed and shuffled back towards her.
One finger stroked across the hem of panties. Each small touch felt like flames licking at her skin, setting her core on fire.
Clarke waited impatiently for him to make the next step and take off her panties. After several seconds of waiting, Clarke finally understood what he was doing.
His finger would dip under the black cloth before returning over it. It was taking everything in Clarke not to thrust her hips up when his fingers returned under the thin fabric. A whimper escaped her as she felt his finger trace a small trail through her damp golden curls.
"Bellamy, fuck! I need more!" she demanded impatiently.
Clarke's words seemed to be Bellamy's undoing as his control shattered into pieces. Clarke could see his brown eyes darken to pure black at her words. Without another word, he hooked his fingers around the scrap of fabric that shielded her wet and aching core from his piercing gaze. He yanked the panties down her legs and tossed them aside.
His mouth was instantly at her neck leaving nipping kisses and teasing rubs along her skin. She could feel her body aching for his touch.
Caught in his frenzy, Clarke reached between them and tried to help him out of his clothes, but she couldn't get the right angle to get rid of the last bits of fabric that kept them apart.
"Pants off," she rasped.
He didn't hesitate to lean back. His fingers made quick work of unzipping his pants and pulling down the course fabric off of his hips, down his legs, and over his feet.
Clarke took that time to admire his body. With each movement, she could see the muscles in his arms and shoulder ripple. His lean body seemed to be teeming with more toned definition than the last time she had seen him without clothes on. Apparently, in the last two weeks, he had not been sitting around doing nothing.
She ached to touch his skin and to be touched, but she wanted to only touch him when there wasn't another barrier in the way.
Clarke's eyes darted away from his body when she noticed that he wasn't moving to get rid of his boxers.
Bellamy kneeled in front of her, bare-chested and beautiful. He was staring at her with a look of indecision, lust, and tenderness.
She didn't feel weak or vulnerable underneath his stare; she felt like a goddess.
She shifted up, ignoring the uncomfortable twinge in her hips. When she was inches from his skin and could feel the heat radiating off of him, she slowly put her hand on his stomach. His stomach muscles contracted sharply underneath her col fingertips.
He watched her with slightly hooded eyes. She decided it was the look of sex; pure and simple, lazy and incredibly erotic.
"And these," she whispered, sliding her hands along the thick line of muscles. She let her hand drift just a little lower, loving every single moment.
Her gaze followed her fingers until she was eyeing his boxers. She bit down on her lip, and her eyes widened just slightly as she noticed the prominent bulge in his underwear.
Curiosity sprung inside her as she wondered about what she would discover inside his boxer shorts.
Her fingers trailed lightly across his stomach and through the dusting of course, light brown hair, continuing down the trail until they reached his underwear.
The tips of her fingers slipped under the fabric, but instead of teasing him, like he enjoyed doing with her, she merely lowered the fabric over his hips and down his lean, built legs. He helped her take them off once they were around his knees.
Clarke's breath huffed out in a heated sigh once her eyes fell on his manhood. It was heavy and erect, taunting her with its length and thickness.
She wanted to touch and taste it, but more importantly, she wanted it inside her, pressing into her and stretching her.
She extended her fingers forward. The tips of her fingers just brushed against the head of his swollen erection.
Bellamy hissed causing her eyes to dart up to his face in concern. The look he gave her sent such a thrill throughout her body. His jaw was clenched shut, and his dark eyes were focused intensely on her hand.
Clarke reached again. Her fingers gently caressed the dark head of his dick. Her finger lightly traced the silky smooth skin. As she passed over the thick mushroom shaped head, Clarke could see several dewy drops leaking from his swollen skin. She wanted to feel the weight of his skin in her hands and explore every uncovered inch.
"Bel, can I…?" She gestured towards his extended member.
Bellamy's eyebrows knitted in confusion before smoothing into a gentle smile.
"You've never done this before?" he questioned, his voice was rough and husky with need. Clarke shook her head and bit down on her lip again.
Part of her wondered if she should be embarrassed about her own ignorance, but with Bellamy, she didn't feel that way. His experience and her experience was vastly different, but not knowing everything about sex was not an aberration. It just meant that they had so many different opportunities to explore her naiveté.
Not realizing her train of thoughts, Bellamy wrapped his hand around hers. Clarke felt her stomach twist with nervousness at the feeling of his large calloused palm settle over hers.
He guided her until her hand was loosely wrapped around his dick.
Clarke breath stuttered as she felt the heavy weight in her palm. The texture and feeling weren't completely unknown to her, but it was still foreign to her. Bellamy groaned a little when she squeezed a little firmer testing her boundaries.
His skin felt softer than she expected; like a silk casing that covered a thick, pulsing steel pole.
"Show me what feels good to you," she said demurely. Bellamy's hand tightened on hers before he began to move it. First, he slid their hands towards the head of his dick. Her palm slipped over the purplish head capturing the drops of pre-cum. A heavy breath blew through his nose as their hands glided across the top.
The extra moisture allowed her hand to glide more smoothly over his shaft. He showed her exactly what he liked. Their hands followed the path down before moving back towards the top. Each movement brought a small growl from the base of his throat.
She passed up and down three more times with him setting the pace before he let go of her hand. Clarke felt the apprehension build in her stomach and hesitated. He watched her like a hawk, waiting to see what she would do.
Clarke chewed on her lip a little, before straightening her shoulders a little. Tentatively, her hand tightened around his shaft again and began moving. Up and down. Over and over again.
The noises that Bellamy made were the best reward. Each groan and moan just made the desire in her spread a little farther than before until she was practically salivating.
"Just like that, babe," he grunted. His eyes, heavy with pleasure, clenched shut in response to her treatment. His head lolled back as he relaxed under her ministrations.
Clarke's curiosity took over again as she watched him. She wanted to explore him and discover what felt the best. This time, when her hand reached the base, she gently tightened her hand over his stiff rod, drawing a ragged, deep groan from his mouth. As she began to move up, she twisted a little.
Bellamy's answering vocalization renewed the ache in her core. Clarke nibbled on her lip as she stared up at his face. She took the time to watch each passing emotion and facial expression change as she tried to hone in on her newly cultivated skills.
She soon learned exactly what pace he liked, where to move, and when she became bolder, she discovered how he liked the sacs behind his manhood to be gently rolled back and forth in her hand.
She could see the thin sheen of sweat begin to glisten on his temple as he fought for control. His mouth was clenched tight, and she could see the famous throbbing tick near his jawline. Clarke sped up slightly. Down, up, down, clench, twist, up. Faster and faster, with more alacrity, she moved until she could feel the muscles in her arm begin to strain from the continued movement. She didn't care about the building tension in her muscle, though; her thoughts and eyes were trained on the man in front of her.
The sinewy muscles in his upper legs and lower stomach were clenching delicious, and suddenly, touching wasn't enough for Clarke. She wanted to taste him and feel him in her mouth. She wanted to see him lose complete and total control.
Without thinking, Clarke bent forward until her mouth was inches from Bellamy's throbbing manhood. She could smell the spicy, piquant scent that was all Bellamy, and it made her mouth water in anticipation.
Clarke looked skywards at Bellamy's face. His eyes were still closed in pleasure.
Clarke shut her eyes, slowed her jerking hand, and slowly let her tongue run across the mushroomed head. She nearly moaned from the taste of the salty liquid, but as soon as she had tasted it, it was gone, leaving her frustrated and at a loss.
Clarke's eyes opened wide, as she tried to figure out what had happened. She figured that she must have done something wrong to have made Bellamy jerk away when he felt her moist, warm tongue begin to caress him.
"What did I do?" Clarke felt confused and hurt as he pulled even farther away from her, scooting out of reach.
"If I had let you keep going, we would have had to stop for a little bit." Clarke looked at him blankly.
"I would have blown my load," he clarified crudely, laughing as he watched her flushed cheeks turn nearly crimson in embarrassment. She lowered at him as he continued to chuckle.
Bellamy leaned down and brushed a curl out of her face. The large smirk soon became a gentle smile as he took in her curvy frame.
"Lay back," he whispered. His sweet breath blew on to her face. She nodded in a daze, slowly twisting her legs in front of her and gently dropping back onto the cot. The soft fur cover tickled the nape of her neck and caressed along her back.
He followed her downwards until their bodies lay flush against each other. Clarke's heart thrummed wildly with anticipation. Each breath of air filled her lungs and pushed her chest against his. Clarke bit her lip in result to those small movements. She could feel the small, light brown chest hairs dust across her erect nipples. The feeling caused searing prickles to rush downwards, spreading like wildfire through all of her limbs.
She could also feel his large member so close to her core. It lay like a heavy reminder on her inner thigh, making it impossible to concentrate. It was also part of the reason that she was shocked when she felt Bellamy's fingertips caressing her damp sex.
Clarke's breathe stuttered, and her eyes shot to his. Instead of seeing the all too familiar smirk, there was a look of intense attentiveness.
Bellamy parted her lower lips and used one digit to gentle press inside her. Clarke arched up, pressing more firmly to him, and moaned at the feeling. It felt so goddamn good. The painful ache inside of her slowly eased as he moved faster inside her.
She squirmed against him, moaning wildly.
"Does that feel good, baby?" His rough voice growled at her, begging for a response.
She nodded and tried to grind against his finger. He added another finger.
"Tell me," he harshly demanded.
Clarke nearly rolled her eyes in frustration. She wanted to slap him. Her head was not engaged in having a conversation. She wanted to become enraptured in the sensations, not talk.
She could feel his finger moving inside her. The pleasure of it was incredible.
All of a sudden, Bellamy pulled his hand away from her. Her lower extremities wept with emptiness. Her all-consuming avarice demanded appeasement, but there was nothing she could do. Clarke groaned in disapproval.
With the hand that had been pleasuring her, he grabbed her chin, gently tilting it up. Clarke was taken aback by the scent of her sex on his fingers and the warmth wetness that made his fingers slippery.
"I want you to talk to me, Princess. I know how bossy you are. Tell me what you want." The smile on his face was so cocky and arrogant. She hated that she loved that look.
Clarke's eyes narrowed in irritation.
"I want your fingers inside me."
"Where? Cause I could put them in a couple of different locations," he brazenly declared.
Clarke's mouth dropped down a little in shock as she considered his words before her eyes tightened into slits.
"Bellamy," she chided.
"Tell me," he taunted. He let go of her face. His fingers moved upwards, tapping the bottom of her swollen, pink lips. Clarke's eyes widened as the sweet aroma of her center flooded her senses. Clarke's breathing stopped before picking up again.
Bellamy's lips curled into a slow, lazy half-smirk. There was something predatory in his black eyes as he gazed down at her.
Instead of gently tapping her lips again, he dragged the two moist fingers down her mouth, before leaning in for a passionate kiss that was all tongue, and lips, and teeth.
Clarke groaned as she tasted herself on her tongue. It was saccharine and sweet, and strange. She didn't know if she should be turned on or completely grossed out, but that thought quickly left her as Bellamy continued to ravish her.
During the kiss, she could feel Bellamy's fingers return inside her. He wasn't gentle or hesitant. He was purely and simply fucking her with his hand. Each thrust sent a wild spurt of pleasure through her. She could feel the coil inside her wind tighter and tighter. She wanted to scream. Oh god, did she want to scream, but his mouth swallowed each and every cry.
After a few moments of kissing her, he pulled back and watched her as she squirmed. Her hands had found purchase on his bare shoulders, and her nails were creating grooves in his skin where they had dug inciting a savagery in him that could not be quenched.
"Do you like that, Clarke?" His fingers hesitated for just a moment, causing a sob to escape from her throat. "Answer me!"
"Yes," she called. "Yes, yes, god, yes!" Bellamy slowly resumed moving his fingers.
"Do you want to cum?"
"Yes," she cried, arching against him, and grinding down on his hand.
"You will, beautiful. But not on my hand. I'm going to take my fingers out of you, coat my cock with your juices, and then I'm going to fill you." Clarke wanted to whine at him, complain, scream, cry, but there was something in his voice that made her belly clench. With wide eyes, she watched as he withdrew the fingers that were inside her.
He pulled back and grasped his long, thick shaft in his hands and used her bodily fluids to coat himself.
The breath inside her whooshed out. Her mouth felt drier than a desert as she watched his hand slowly move up and down. Even though she was aching to feel him, there was something incredibly sexy about watching him touch himself. She could see her own liquid covering his thick erection.
"Bel," she whispered reverently.
Bellamy didn't respond to her except for a small wink. She watched as he shuffled forward on his knees until she could feel the warmth of his legs on her inner thighs. One massive hand landed next to her head, making a solid barrier around her. She had never felt more at home, then in that moment, pinned to her bed, hidden away from the world.
He shifted slightly, and then she could feel him rubbing the head of his dick slowly at her entrance. She groaned as she felt the friction against her.
Bellamy stopped moving until her eyes darted towards his eyes.
There was a hushed moment where she could see the love, the adoration, and the tenderness in his eyes, and then she felt him moving.
Her eyes clenched shut, and her body froze at the massive intrusion that was slowly pushing inside her. A sudden moment of fear and anxiety rose up inside her, causing her tenderness towards him to disappear and panic to replace the feeling.
She wasn't ready.
She couldn't do this.
She was scared.
"Babe," Bellamy's voice crooned, breaking her out of pained thoughts. One of his hands was gently rubbing up and down her arm.
Clarke stared up at Bellamy.
"You are getting caught in your head," he muttered. "I'm here with you. I love you."
Clarke nodded her head but didn't relax at all. Her lower muscles were clenched in unnecessary alarm.
"I love you," he repeated, leaning forward until she could feel his breath mix with hers. "I will always take care of you. In every way."
These were words that she had heard before but from Finn. And that scared the shit out of Clarke.
Bellamy is different, she told herself. He loves me, and I love him.
She loved him, and that was something not to be taken lightly. She remembered that Octavia had warned her about Bellamy's heart. He wasn't going to change like Finn, and she loved that about him. She loved him.
"I love you," Clarke whispered. She closed the small distance between their lips.
When he felt her body relaxing against her, he began to move slowly again.
Instead of feeling uncomfortable, Clarke relished in the feeling of being full. Inch after inch, he pushed into her until their bodies were completely aligned: Chest to chest, thigh to thigh.
Clarke had never felt this way before. The prickling heat had turned into a raging fire.
"Clarke?" Bellamy questioned. His voice sounded strained and pained. Clarke knew he was asking permission, but at that point, he didn't need it. She wasn't afraid anymore.
Clarke draped her hands around his neck and pulled him closer. Bellamy understood her silent request and began moving. Slowly he rocked back and forth, creating the most delicious friction she had ever felt.
At first, Clarke lay under him, learning his movements, but soon she couldn't remain passive. She wanted more.
She hitched both of her legs over Bellamy's hips pressing her heels into his muscular buttocks. Bellamy groaned as he felt himself slip further into her wet heat.
She lifted her hips to meet each careful, deep thrust and moaned as she felt him move inside her, filling her to the brim.
"God, god, god, god," she chanted.
"God's not here, Princess," Bellamy chuckled breathlessly in response. His wicked eyes were locked on hers, watching each facial expression.
His panting breath rushed across her face, sending more wanton need into her. She peeled her hands off of his shoulder and ensnared them into his wild, damp locks that framed his handsome face. She tugged harshly on his curls and squeezed her heels down on his ass, hoping he would increase his pace and grant her more.
Bellamy growled in carnal pleasure. She could see the snarl on his face and the deeper need hidden in his eyes, but there was also this need for something else. Something passive.
Clarke felt a spark of anger as she realized that he was restraining himself. He was afraid of her getting hurting her still. He was worried that she wasn't going to stop him if they needed to.
She put her hands on his face and pulled until he couldn't move away from her imploring eyes.
"More," she hissed, thrusting her hips against his. "Fuck me."
Bellamy's eyes narrowed slightly, and a growling noise erupted from his throat as he pulled back once before he began to set a punishing speed.
Clarke felt the euphoria of each deep thrust. It sent her senses into a world wind.
Sight, sound, taste, feeling, and scent guided her in her exploration. She could feel the smoothness of his skin, the course hair from his legs rubbing against her, and the wisps of fur underneath her naked back. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed out in the small tent. Each movement expelled a gasp from her and a deep groan from him. As her mouth latched on to his, she could taste the sweetness of pure honey. His scent surrounded her. It was like being in the forest after a rainstorm. The redolence of freshness, pine, and a hint of spice assaulted her.
She could feel the tension in her belly escalating, driving her forward. She could barely catch her breath.
Bellamy pulled back and buried his face into her neck. A hand dug into her hair, pulling at the long golden strands. He tugged a little harder until her head lolled away, exposing her neck.
"Are you close? Tell. Me. Clarke," he demanded in a low domineering voice. Each word was marked with a deep, unyielding, penetrating thrust.
She shivered wildly at the feeling of his breath against her ear.
"Yes, yes, yes."
Bellamy leaned down and bit her neck, applying a bruising amount of suction with his lips.
The coil inside her was wound so tightly; she could barely stand it. Her blood was boiling; each ribbon of her threaded veins seemed to be lit with an unholy fire. The embers spread molecule to molecule until she couldn't speak or breathe.
She could feel his fingers quickly pass her hip and travel in between them. He pressed against the small bundle of nerves, then began to rub small circles, sending shockwaves and explosions throughout her body.
Her pussy clamped down on his cock, and she screamed her release. Stars burst behind her closed eyelids as she felt him reach completion with her. Her body shook and quivered with the force of her orgasm.
Above her, she was vaguely aware that Bellamy's body was shuddering. Words were pouring out of his mouth, but she couldn't understand them.
And again, she was lost.
Lost in the feeling, lost in Bellamy.
Several minutes had passed before she became aware of her surroundings. She was lying on her side in Bellamy's warm embrace still connected to him.
She could feel Bellamy's light touch ghosting over her back, leaving goosebumps as he rubbed up and down her smooth skin.
When he realized that she was no longer in a daze, he kissed her shoulder lightly before finally getting up. Clarke felt a void as he slid out of her depths, moving away.
She shifted up, groaning slightly from the heaviness of her limbs, and watched him.
"Bellamy?" she softly questioned.
"I'm still here, Princes. I'm just getting water and cleaning up."
"Oh…" she murmured.
"I can hear you thinking from over here, Princess. Just say what you want to say." Clarke rolled her eyes at his gruffness and laid back down.
"Come back first," she bargained. He didn't speak, but she could hear the soft padding of his feet on the ground. She scooted over and tried to ignore the pooling moisture that dripped from between her legs.
"Here, Clarke." She sluggishly reached for his hand and smiled as he held out a cool washrag. She wiped the cooling sweat away from her face and then quickly swiped between her legs. It wasn't the best method, but she appreciated Bellamy's thoughtfulness with her. She dropped the rag next to the bed.
"Move over, baby," he said softly. Clarke responded to his command, and rolled over. She felt the cot move under his heavy weight. Her arm instantly reached for him, touching his chest gently with her fingertips. His limbs wrapped around her and pulled her close. Her head rested on his chest, listening to the gentle thud of his heart. Each breath of air from his expanding and contracting lungs lulled her into a soothing trance.
"Do you want me to move the blanket on us," he asked her after a moment.
"No, too hot right now. This is perfect," she sighed.
It was quiet for a few minutes before Clarke spoke up again.
"That felt good."
Bellamy immediately chuckled at her words. Clarke's head bobbed on his chest.
"As good as that is for my ego, I know you better than that. That's not what you want to say to me."
"No," she said reluctantly, "but it seemed like a good transition." She felt Bellamy's chest rise with a deep sigh before he placed his lips on her still damp forehead.
"Spit it out, Princess."
"It's nothing bad. I just love you. I missed you."
She felt him still for a moment before his lips curled up into a small smirk.
"The feelings mutual,"
Clarke opened her mouth before shutting it.
"Can… Can I ask you something silly, Bel?"
"Sure."
"Can we start thinking about more again?"
"More what?"
"More of us."
Clarke could feel her cheeks burn against his chest. Bellamy leaned back but Clarke refused to look up.
"Princess, are you proposing?" He asked in a scandalized voice.
Clarke leaned back and stared at his face with a mixture of surprise, embarrassment, and contempt. Her cheeks had turned from rosy red to a deep magenta.
"No. God, no. Don't be stupid," she sputtered.
"Oh good. It is far too soon. I don't want to have a ball-and-chain right now. I need options." He smirked his signature grin. She could see the joking twinkle in his dark eyes.
Clarke groaned in exasperation.
"I think I hate you," she spat in annoyance.
"Yeah, yeah. Sure you do."
Clarke ignored him and continued with her question.
"I wanted to know if we were still planning on moving the 100 to the Dropship."
The look of humor faded into a more serious look as he considered her words.
"You still want to move away?"
"Kind of. This place isn't home." Bellamy clearly wanted to say something. She could see the conflict in his dark eyes.
"What is it?"
"Clarke, I don't want us to make a decision right now. This place could be home, Clarke. I'm not saying no, but I think we should consider all the options."
"Why do you want us to stay here?"
"The other place holds a lot of bad memories. How many times did we think we were going to die? How many did die? Our people are traumatized and moving them back might be a big mistake." Bellamy's hand lightly stroked the line of her spine. She could feel her body slowly sinking against him.
"It could be a chance to move on, though."
"Maybe," he said noncommittally. "We don't have to make that choice now. Let's talk more in the morning."
Clarke frowned in response but nodded in agreement. She yawned and snuggled farther against him.
"Night, Princess."
"Night," she whispered back.
She closed her eyes and pressed her head back against his chest. The exhaustion from the day soon slipped into every inch of her body. One moment, she was listening to his soft breaths; the next moment, she was passed out in a dreamless sleep.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I wrote and rewrote a countless amount of times trying to convey all the right emotions.
Please, please, please review. I am very curious about what you think. And thank you to all those who have reviewed, favorited, and followed.