Ch. 52: Four Rules
Summary:
1. "You may not touch me unless I tell you to."
2. "You may not touch yourself unless I permit it."
3. "You can't come until I tell you to. But I'm sure you expected that one already."
4. "You will do as I tell you, when I tell you to do it."
AKA
Clarke's turn to dominate ;)
Chapter Notes: this is here later than I planned, but better late than never? Seriously, thank you guys so much for the feedback and reviews :) I'll be replying to them over the next day or so (when I can steal a few moments). They are really motivating it's lovely to get them in my inbox! Thank you guys for sticking by me and this fic
SO... By popular demand - Domme!Clarke. Finally ;) I apologize for the wait!
Special shout out to Kayla ( raincityruckus) for being my sounding board during conception of this chapter.
And thank you to Amber ( bilexualclarke) for her excellent bets work!
TW:
Nothing extreme. This falls under a more "gentle domination" category. But there's some rope bondage, just fyi.
[CLARKE POV]
I walk into the dining room to find Bellamy flipping through piles of work papers. I step around his chair on my way to the kitchen, stopping briefly to give him a kiss on the cheek. His hand darts up and wraps around my wrist, then pulls me back to him. He matches my amused grin with his own as he tugs me down into his lap and draws me into a real kiss. Despite the layers of clothes between us, I can feel the scorching heat of his hands as they move up my back. I love that after nearly a year, we still have these impromptu makeout sessions. There's something wonderful about being able to step away from the hectic pace of the day to just fall into each other, if only for a few minutes.
We finally come up for air and I rest my forehead against his with a small laugh, "Hello to you, too."
His thumb comes up to brush a few stray hairs out of my face and he smiles, one of those electric smiles that transforms his whole face, "I've been waiting to do that all day."
"All day?"
He nods and brushes his lips along my jawline, "We overslept and barely got to say 'good morning' before rushing out the door."
My lips curl into a pout, "Yeah… It was one of those rushed mornings. How was the rest of your day?"
"It was good. New items for the exhibit are arriving and there was a mix-up with the paperwork –" He nods toward the papers that litter the dining room table, "– and it's fallen on me to deal with it." "How about you – how was your day?"
I shrug, "It was good. Nothing out of the ordinary." I tug at the hem of my skirt, "I wasn't on call, so no scrubs today."
He pinches my side with a grin, "I noticed…" His free hand travels a slow, determined path up my calf, from my ankle to my knee, "It's a really hot look."
"Well, professional is what I'm supposed to be going for."
He smirks and clarifies, "This qualifies as both."
"Glad to hear it." I clear my throat and pause a moment to choose my next words, "So… you asked the other day about my request to 'call the shots' for a night."
His smile is fond, "I remember. You told me you'll let me know when you're ready. Is it something you still want to do?"
I nod, "Yes." I straighten my spine and take a deep breath, "Tonight."
He nods with a reassuring smile, "We can do it tonight if you're ready."
"I am. We need to eat first, though."
He kisses my lips sweetly, chastely. "Okay. I'll start on dinner."
A realization settles over me: I'm going to dominate Bellamy tonight.
A different kind of energy surrounds us while we make and eat dinner. Conversation topics are no different than any other night, and on the surface, one might not notice the change in atmosphere. But my body buzzes with nervous excitement while my mind finalizes a plan.
This is different from anything we've done before. An obedient Bellamy is something I haven't seen in this context. We have plenty of vanilla sex where I'll ride on top, and other times I give instructions or make requests for things I want him to do to me ("I want your mouth, Bellamy. Please, fuck me with your tongue…"). But I've never given commands. I've never taken on a purposely dominant role with Bellamy and I've never felt compelled to do so. Sheer curiosity drives me to try it this time.
He and I have had several discussions about how far he will submit and how much control he's willing to give over.
[FLASHBACK]
"Have you ever done it?"
He gives a lopsided smile, "Been submissive?"
I nod, "Yeah."
He shakes his head, "The closest thing I've come to 'submissive' is when I played bottom with Magnus. Even then, I topped him like half an hour later. But that had no interplay with other relationships."
"So other than that, you've never submitted?"
He shakes his head, "No. It's not something I've ever been comfortable with before."
I take a deep breath, "Are you uncomfortable with it now?"
He tilts his head in thought, "As a concept, it feels unnatural for me to hand over the control. Submitting to my submissive isn't something I ever considered."
"So you've been asked?"
He nods, "Yeah, I've had subs ask if they could call the shots, but I never went for it." He huffs, "Sometimes I kind of felt like an ass when I'd say no, but it wasn't something that I would put on the table. Vanilla sex, putting us on equal ground, was as far as I'd go."
I give him an understanding nod, "Did it ever become a point of contention?"
He shakes his head lightly, "No. If they really wanted to try it, I was happy to let them. Just not with me." I raise an eyebrow, waiting for more explanation, so he continues, "I helped find someone they'd be compatible with who was either a sub or willing to take on a sub role for a session."
I furrow my brows, "I wouldn't want to do… that."
He huffs, "Yeah, no. I'd have a problem with that, too."
I shrug, "Is it going to be a problem? To let me take control?"
Bellamy smiles gently and shakes his head, then takes my hand in both of his. His warm hands are dry but soft as he inspects my palm and caresses my fingers. He fiddles with my engagement ring and looks me in the eye, and the tenderness in his gaze is startling. "No. Not at all, Clarke."
I nod, "Okay." I send him a smile, "Thank you, then."
"You decided when you want to do it?"
I shake my head, "No. Not yet. It feels awkward to schedule it, like 'I will dominate on this day at 6pm.' And obviously you have some say in it." I laugh and he smiles back at me.
"Just let me know."
"I will."
After dinner is over and the kitchen is cleaned up, I turn to face Bellamy. I clear my throat to get his attention. "Babe."
He drapes the dishtowel over the handle of the stove and turns his attention to me.
I'm pleased that my voice is strong, unshaking, and resolute when I give Bellamy his first instructions. "Go into our bedroom and wait for me by the bed."
Bellamy nods, "Alright." The glint in his eye is almost mischievous. He leaves the kitchen while I linger behind a moment to gather my thoughts.
I want as much height as I can get to start, so I slip my heels back on before I walk into the bedroom. As instructed, Bellamy is standing by the bed, perfectly still, save for his twitching fingers.
As I walk his direction, I tell him, "There are four rules tonight."
He has a smirk on his face, but it fades into a calm, deferential smile as I step closer. My stern facial expression has its intended effect. It's my "game face" at work, and it's why absolutely no one messes with me.
"Rule number one. You may not touch me unless I tell you to."
He narrows his eyes as he accepts the challenge (and I intend to make it quite the challenge). "Understood. What else?"
I smirk, "You may not touch yourself unless I permit it."
He tilts his head to the side, unsurprised, since it goes hand-in-hand with the first rule. "Okay. Rule number three?"
"Rule number three. You can't come until I tell you to. But I'm sure you expected that one already."
He nods, "I did."
"Rule number four. You will do as I tell you, when I tell you to do it. I won't go past your limits, but I expect obedience."
The corners of his mouth twitch up in a quick smile before he schools his features again. "Understood."
"Good. And finally, your safe words are?"
"Red to stop, yellow to slow down, green to keep going."
I smile, "Very good."
He moves to unbutton his shirt, but I quickly trap his wrists in my hands and guide them back to his sides. I shake my head, "Did I tell you to do that?"
He huffs with a quick shake of his head, "You didn't. I'm sorry."
I give him a smile, "You're okay. I know you're not used to… this." He shrugs a shoulder, then stretches his neck to each side, as if to start fresh. "But I know you can do better. Can you be good for me?"
Bellamy takes a deep breath and nods.
I shake my head, "Use your words."
"I'll be good."
I smile again in approval, "That's my boy." I squeeze his wrists to direct his attention to them, wordlessly telling him not to move them, then I drag my palms up his arms until I reach the collar of his shirt. Even with my heels, I'm not as tall as he is, but they give me enough height to easily hover my lips before his. He's not allowed to kiss me, and he knows it. Our eyes lock and I can see the anticipation build up in his gaze. I move to press my lips to his, but just before they touch, I kiss the corner of his mouth instead. I smirk at his annoyance, but I'm impressed that he's remained still. I trail more kisses in a line to his ear, then tug his earlobe gently between my teeth, reveling in the shiver that shoots through his body. While my fingers unbutton the rest of his shirt, I leave a trail of kisses along the line of his jaw, down his neck, grazing my teeth over his Adam's apple before I dip my tongue into the hollow at the base of his throat.
I gather his shirt in my hands as I push it off his shoulders until it's bunched up at his elbows. His smirk confirms his amusement at the fact that his shirt isn't going to come any farther down until I allow him to move his arms. He looks mildly confused as I step behind him, and rather than try to push the shirt down further, I grasp his elbows to gently guide them behind his back. I press them toward each other – not dramatically so, but enough so that his hands will be useless. I tie the ends of the shirt together in a knot, then roll the excess material into itself, tucking in loose ends as needed to create a clean line along the top edges of my makeshift elbow restraint. This also eliminates slack. Next, I move my hands to the cuff of one wrist, then roll it up his forearms until it meets the rest of the shirt, where I tuck in the loose fabric. This keeps the fabric somewhat anchored in place and prevents it from slipping down his arms if he tries to tuck his elbows closer together. I repeat the action on the other side, then step back.
"Push against them. It's not supposed to be completely immobilizing or anything. Just a strong reminder to keep your hands to yourself unless directed otherwise."
He looks over his shoulder and inspects the part of the restraint he can see, then flexes his arms against it. He has a proud smile, "Very clever."
"Thank you." I inspect his hands and arms for impaired circulation. "Are you feeling any numbness or tingling?"
He shakes his head, "No. I'm good."
Regrettably, his undershirt is still covering up his beautiful torso. I figured this would be the case, since I knew I wouldn't be removing his button-down until later.
I step around his front and inspect him, "This won't do." He raises an eyebrow in question so I clarify, "I want to see more of you…"
"You're the one who left the shirt on." I roll my eyes at his self-satisfied smirk.
I clear my throat and stand straighter, "I know. I just didn't think I'd feel so… deprived, not being able to see all of this." As I speak, I sneak my hands under his shirt and press my palms to his abdomen, eliciting twitches and goosebumps as I curl my fingertips and scrape them along the planes of muscle. I take my hands back and step away to retrieve a pair of scissors.
I hold the scissors up for him to see, "Problem solved."
He nods in consent, and I snip a notch into the bottom hem of the T-shirt before setting the scissors aside. I look him in the eye, and can't resist the drama of ripping the shirt straight up the middle. His gaze darkens at the sharp sound of tearing fabric, and he nearly falls forward with force of the tug. I step into him and press my lips to his as my hands finish the job, splitting the garment all the way to his neck. I drag my tongue across the seam of his lips and he instantly grants me entrance. His predatory growl settles over me while I almost get lost in him. I remind myself that I've only just gotten started, so I break the kiss, sharing his disappointed sigh as my lips abandon his. I press my forehead to his for a moment before I step away again.
I rake my gaze over the visible skin, then pick the scissors back up and cut the sleeves so I can pull the t-shirt completely off his body.
"That's better." I drag my fingers along his chest, then down his abdomen until I reach the waistband of his pants. He looks pleased as ever that I can't resist his body. I unfasten his belt, then the button and zipper so that I can slip my hands inside his pants. When I palm his cock through the material of his boxer-briefs, we are both startled by the sheer volume of his voice when he moans in response.
I rub my palm against him just a bit harder and his entire body twitches. He closes his eyes and drops his head forward, but catches himself before he falls. Beyond pleased with his reaction, I smile, "Tell me, does that feel good?"
"Fuck, yeah it-." He shudders mid-sentence. "-it feels really good."
I nod, "Good… that makes me happy."
The man whines – actually whines – when I pull my hand away. He opens his eyes and snaps his gaze to mine when I steady him with a hand to his waist.
"Relax for me."
He nods and takes a deep breath, then I grasp the waistband of his pants and pull them down over his hips. They drop the rest of the way down and I nudge him to step out of them. Next I tease the waist of his boxer-briefs, dipping my fingers inside and grazing the base of his shaft before I pull away again. He bites back the beginning of a whimper at the ghost of contact, and he almost doesn't catch himself before chasing my hand with his hips.
Amused by his waning control, I slowly peel away his last remaining item of clothing. We both release an audible gasp as his heavy cock springs free from its confines. He's already fully erect, his foreskin completely retracted to expose the raw, throbbing tip.
"God… your cock is so gorgeous." Unable to keep my hands away, I wrap my hand around the base and his entire body surges into me. With my other hand, I press a palm against his stomach to steady him, "Shhh, calm down." Bellamy huffs a laugh and nods. I squeeze my hand firmly around him. Not too hard, but enough to pull a pleasured whimper from the broad man who stands before me. I press my thumb to the underside of his shaft and draw a strong line from the base to the tip, where I gather the beads of pre-come gathered there. With a feather-light touch, I spread the glistening fluid over the tip of his cock before releasing him completely.
I swallow his frustrated whimper with a heated kiss, and I can feel the furious flexing of his upper arms against the makeshift restraint at his elbows. After a moment, I detach and step away completely to get a view of my fiancé. My breath hitches when I see how utterly wrecked he is, and I've barely touched him. Though to be fair, that's probably why he looks so wrecked.
He bores his eyes into mine, "Ple-." His voice breaks so he clears his throat, "Please…"
I shake my head, "Shhh, not yet. But soon, I promise." He nods in compliance as I take another couple of steps back. I tease the buttons of my shirt and he nods frantically for me to take it off.
"You want me to take this off?"
He blows out a chest full of air and the choked sound of his voice is a victory all its own. "Jesus, fuck yes."
I raise an eyebrow, "Where are your manners?"
He shakes his head quickly, "I'm sorry." His self-deprecating laugh is breathless, "But fuck, please – I need to see you."
I nod "Since you asked nicely…" I methodically remove my blouse and camisole, leaving me in just my bra while my lower half is still clothed.
He groans, furrows his brows, glares angrily at my bra, as if he can will it out of existence if he stares hard enough. I smirk as I trail my fingers to the side of my skirt, unfasten the hook and slide the zipper open. I tease myself, grazing my fingers under the waistband and pulling it down about an inch or so. I turn casually to the side to reveal to him the top edge of the lace panties that match my bra. At this point, I think he might be attempting to telepathically tear it off of my chest.
I hook a finger underneath my bra strap and pull it off my shoulder, letting it fall slightly down my arm. "You want this off, I can tell." He nods feverishly and I continue, "Do you wonder if it's going to make it harder to keep your hands under control? If the rest of my body is bared to you?"
His mouth drops open, like he hadn't thought of that yet. He thinks about it for another few seconds before he shakes his head, "I don't fucking care. Just take it off… Please."
I hold a finger up, "Soon. I promise, soon."
He closes his eyes again and I slowly shimmy the rest of the way out of my skirt. Still wearing my heels, I step out of it, then kick it to the side. Bellamy chooses that moment to look up at me, and the penetrating expression on his face sends a bolt of lust straight through me.
"Jesus fucking Christ…" He shakes his head, then looks at the ceiling briefly before looking back at me again. I swear to god, the heat in his eyes brands my skin as he rakes his gaze over my body. "Fucking look at you…"
I attempt to tamp down the shivers that shoot through my body as I walk back to him. I lick my lips as I feast my eyes on his cock, red-tipped and throbbing. Despite being strung tight as a bowstring, he has remained remarkably still. I step close, then walk around behind him, gratuitously grazing his arm with my breasts on the way.
"You've been so good for me." I smile at his amused huff. "I'm going to untie this, okay?" He nods and I deftly untie and unroll the fabric of his shirt and slide down his arms, then I toss it to the side. I squeeze gentle massaging patterns on his arms as I press a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades.
"You can move your arms a bit if you need." He rolls his shoulders, and I remind him, "But remember. No touching."
He huffs, "I remember."
I step around to stand before him again. "On your knees." Without missing a beat he sinks down in front of me, his own gaze never leaving mine as he awaits further instruction. I touch a hand to his cheek, "That's my boy." I press a curious hand to his shoulder and push against him, just to test his balance. I put a little more force behind another push, and I'm impressed to find that his solid stance doesn't waver.
I smile in approval, "Very good."
He smirks at the praise. He doesn't quite take to it like a submissive. His expressions are those of a person who has challenged himself to meet an objective, and each test he passes is a personal victory. This activity goes against every natural instinct in his body, and I'm both amazed and overwhelmed with love for him.
The wait drives him crazy, I can see it in his eyes. His cock juts out proudly from his frame like a flagpole and I have to remind myself, again, that I'm supposed to draw this out, no matter how much I want to take him in my mouth. I lightly brush against it with my bare calf and with a startled cry, his whole body drives forward. Still, he doesn't fall. I step close to him, so my leg is pressed all along his front and I allow him to rest his head on my abdomen while I rake my fingers through his hair. I watch his body twitch with the need to do something. Well…
I cup his face with my hand and tilt it to face me. My voice is sweet but firm, "Take off my panties." Bellamy grins, then starts to bring his hands up, but before they reach my hips I shake my head and tap the side of his face with my palm. "No. No hands." He's a big fan of 'no hands' when we play, and I'm legitimately curious about how talented he is at completing tasks hands-free, considering how often he demands it of me (not that I mind in the slightest…). I'm honestly not surprised when he divests me of my underwear with remarkable speed using only his mouth. I moan at the implications of how that translates into his superb oral skills. My body is overwhelmed with a jolt of pleasure when his fingers part my folds, then dip into me to gather my wetness. Holy fuck it feels good. I snap back out of it when I remember that I didn't tell him to do this.
I tangle my fingers into his hair and tug his head back so he faces me fully. I shake my head in admonishment and wag my finger, as if I'm correcting a child, "Nuh uh. I said, no touching."
He sighs, "I couldn't resist. Do you know how fucking gorgeous you are?"
I fight the shiver that shoots down my spine at his words, "That doesn't matter. You can't touch until I tell you to." I tilt my head to the bed, "Get on the bed and lie down on your back."
He complies, but not without shooting me a questioning glance. I finally step out of my heels and stand at the edge of the bed to observe Bellamy while he waits obediently on his back for me to do something. His eyes are closed, his breaths are slow and deep. I know that he's taking himself through visualization exercises to calm down and distract himself from the throbbing want that threatens to overcome him. While I personally revelin that sensation, I can see that he's nearing the end of his rope. I watch him for a minute more before I call for his attention.
"Babe."
His eyes shoot open and he turns his head to face me. I give him a wicked smirk as I reach behind to unhook my bra and my breasts practically spring free. He groans in frustration when I purposely leave the straps on my shoulders. All I need to do is bend forward slightly, or loosen my shoulders, and I'll be bare for his gaze. It's tempting as hell, but I'm thoroughly enjoying his frustrated responses to my teasing.
Bellamy looks away and scrubs a hand over his face before returning his eyes to almost-naked body. I laugh softly when he scowls at my bra again.
"Do you need something?"
He groans, "You know you're fucking killing me here, right?"
I shrug and dance my fingers over my bra straps. His gaze is fixed on my chest, unblinking, as if he might miss something if his eyes were to close. I let one strap fall back down to my elbow and I see his cock twitch.
He groans, "Please, give me something. I'm fucking dying here."
I sigh, my voice laced with amusement and condescension, "Rest assured, you're not actually dying."
Bellamy huffs, "Says the one not being teased to death right now."
My lips curl up into a smirk, "Oh, Babe… I'm in your exact position on a regular basis. There isn't a person in the world who understands what you're feeling better than I can." I bend down and whisper, "And I'm not nearly ready to give in just yet." I walk to the foot of the bed, "Spread your legs open." The expediency with which he complies is almost startling. I smile as I crawl onto the mattress between his legs, "Very good. See? You can be good, can't you?"
He rolls his head back with a grunt. Unsatisfied with his response, I lay a sharp tap to his thigh, "Answer the question: Can you be good?"
He nods, his face in a pained grimace, his fists clenching and unclenching. His voice has a choked quality that makes me crazy with lust, "I'll be good. I'll do whatever you want – fucking anything."
I smirk, "That's my boy." I let my bra fall off with a sigh, then drag my bare breasts along his leg as I make my way to his cock. While paying such close attention to Bellamy, I forgot how incredibly needy my own body is. After the extended absence of stimulation, the sensation of his coarse leg hairs against my sensitive nipples is staggeringly intense and I let go my own wanton moan. His eyes shoot open and he lifts his head to see me. I repeat the motion up his other leg and my hand travels of its own accord to my dripping pussy.
His hips jerk forward while he grinds out in a choked voice, "Jesus fuck… that's so fucking hot." When he sees that my hand has disappeared between my legs, he fucking yelps, "Shit. Holy shit, are you touching yourself right now?"
I shoot him a devious smile as I nod, "Mmm hmm. Do you know how wet I am right now?"
He shakes his head, breathless, "How wet?"
To answer, I straddle his thigh and grind gently against it, much to his vulgar delight. He digs his head back into the mattress, then looks up again, his face a picture of pure lust. I take note of his cock, standing at attention like a solid pole, weeping with beads of pre-come.
"You're fucking drenching my leg while you fuck yourself on me… holy fucking shit." With a lustful gaze, he flexes his thigh muscles under my cunt to give me even more stimulation. He groans, "Seriously, that's so fucking hot."
As good as it feels, I have a job to finish. I scoot myself down his legs a bit and scratch my nails against his thighs as my hands make their way to his aching shaft. Without much more teasing, I swirl my tongue around his tip, then close my mouth over it. I give him a light suck and I'm about to pull away when he fists his fingers in my hair by instinct. His cock surges into my mouth while he holds my face down on it. I want so badly to just give in, let him have his way with my face while he fucks into my throat… But, no. I pinch his thigh and he immediately releases me.
I pull my head away, shaking it side-to-side with disappointment.
"Babe…"
He groans, clearly frustrated by my demands for him to sit still. I glance down again and dear god, his cock is beautiful, and hard, and mine, if just for the night. I want so badly to take him back into my mouth. It's practically second nature to me. He of course knows exactly what I'm thinking and shoots me a knowing smirk. In response, I lay a sharp tap on his thigh, just to remind him that he's the one on his back here. He narrows his eyes before he nods in acquiescence. I reach into the drawer in the bedside table and retrieve two lengths of rope.
I clear my throat again, "Do you trust me?"
His eyes dart quickly to the ropes in my hand, then his tongue darts out to wet his lips and he gives me a quick nod. I need more than just a gesture to feel comfortable with this.
My tone is a gentle reprimand, "Use your words."
His gaze snaps to mine and immediately softens when he affirms, "I trust you. Always."
I'm stunned by the sincerity in his voice. It's not new information, and it's not even the first time he's said those exact words. But it's the first time I've asked for his trust and compliance while hovering over his naked and vulnerable form, ropes in hand and ready to use. I'm not sure why those words strike something deep inside this time – I trust you. Always. Tears prick the corners of my eyes. I blink them away and focus again on the task at hand, but Bellamy saw them, and his fingers twitch with the instinct to cradle my face and find out what's wrong. But, I haven't given him permission to touch me. I acknowledge him with a smile and a soft kiss to his forehead to let him know that I'm okay, let's keep going.
I tell him, "If this gets to be too much, you just have to say the word, okay?"
He nods, "I know."
I scoot back to straddle his thighs, then quickly fashion sturdy single-column ties around each of his wrists, making sure I'm still able to fit two fingers between his wrists and the rope. I catch his gaze a few times, and his proud expression floods me with warmth. Then I have him pull against them to make sure the knots don't tighten or loosen with movement. The activity gives me a moment to check-in with my thoughts, as well as observe Bellamy's body language. He is calm now, but I can tell he's calculating and trying to predict my next move (this man is not built to be a submissive, which makes me all the more grateful that he'll do this).
"I'm going to fasten your arms above your head, okay?"
He smirks, "Okay."
I stand up off the mattress and tap the bindings around his wrists, "Perhaps these will help you to remember that your body-" One hand leaves his wrists to make a slow path along his torso as the other guides his arms above his head, "-is mine right now." I study his face for a response and I feel an undeniable sense of relief as I meet the glimmer of pride in his eyes. I smile back at him as I methodically fasten the ropes to rings on the bedframe, located specifically for the purposes of restraints. "Pull against them and tell me if you feel any numbness, tingling or pain."
I check the knots for slippage as he does as I asked, then shakes his head wordlessly.
I dig my fingernails into his triceps and bite back a groan at the feeling of his corded muscle under my fingertips. I remind him, "Use your words, Bellamy."
He clears his throat and confirms, "No numbness, tingling, or pain."
"How about your shoulders?" I take the opportunity to drag my fingertips along his arms, scraping my nails lightly over his deltoids while I await Bellamy's answer, which comes in the form of a wordless, indiscernible grunt. I dig my nails into his arms to catch his attention. Not hard enough to break skin, but with enough pressure to leave crescent-shaped indents. I repeat, "Your shoulders, Bellamy?"
He squints, like he's trying to orient himself before answering. "My shoulders are fine."
I pause a moment, because something is off. I crawl back onto the bed so he can see my face. I clear my throat and the tone of my voice shifts from commanding to concern. "Are you okay, Bellamy?"
He furrows his brows and thinks a moment before he answers, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just-" I wait for him to finish but he doesn't.
"Just…?" I prompt as warmly as possible.
He searches my eyes, studies my face with his response, "Just, don't leave me here. This is fine, if you're here. But you have to stay here."
I smile gently, "I'll be here the whole time, okay?"
It dawns on me that for all the kink experience he has, maybe he's never been tied up like this. I didn't think to ask him when we were negotiating limits days before, which was an error on my part. He told me he'd be fine with light rope restraints, such as wrist bindings, but I didn't bother to ask him if he'd actually been restrained like this. I've practiced knots and ties on his limbs in an educational context, or when we're relaxing on the couch watching TV. But I've never restrained him flat on his back, completely bared to me and at my mercy. Now I feel like I'm handling spun glass, and it's an overwhelming feeling, to be responsible for someone else's experience. I suddenly realize that more than just Bellamy's pleasure is at stake. If I fuck this up, there's a chance I could somehow fuck him up.
"Have you been tied up like this before?"
He closes his eyes and shakes his head, "Not like this."
I nod understandingly, "I didn't realize that. Do you want me to take them off? I don't want you to be uncomfortable. Or… traumatized."
He shakes his head, "I think the only thing that would be traumatizing would be if I was in here alone with-" he arches his neck to look above at his wrist restraints "-these still holding me down."
I kiss his forehead, "I won't leave you alone. I promise."
Bellamy looks me in the eye with a stare that is somehow both penetrating and vulnerable, then nods, "Okay."
With a smile I ask, "Are you good to go on?"
He nods, "I am."
"Your color?"
He smiles, "Green. I can keep going."
"Very good."
I scoot back down between his legs to return to my task. Run my hands up his outstretched and wide-spread legs, gently and teasingly scraping my fingernails along his thighs until I get to his hip bone. His body shivers as I trail my fingers along his waist, just below where his pants usually sit. My lips follow my fingers and I lap at his skin with soft strokes of my tongue. When I reach the hollow of his hip, right where his thighs meet his groin, I dip my tongue in. I repeat the action on the other side until he's panting with need.
I walk my fingers along his pubic bone, deftly avoiding his throbbing cock. "You're being so good for me."
He groans, clearly frustrated and keening for more. I take his shaft in hand and slowly push it up and back against his abdomen, then poke my tongue out to tease the skin between his cock and balls. His body jerks upward and I smirk against him before I lap at the skin underneath. If he weren't tied in place on the bed, this would be the time I'd suck on his balls, but it's an awkward angle… Instead I lick softly at the skin around them, then roll them ever-so-gently in my palm while I lick a strong line on the underside of his cock, from the base almost to the tip. His whole body is tense and he grunts incomprehensible sounds, seemingly incoherent with want.
I tease the exposed underside of his retracted foreskin with soft flicks of my tongue while I squeeze my hand around the base of his cock. With my fist firmly around him, I stroke more pre-come out and coat my lips with it. His body shudders when I close my lips around the head and suck gently. His hips surge up, but I'm prepared for it this time, so I hold his hips down with my free hand.
"Fuck, more… I need… more." I smile around his cock, then suck a little harder before taking the entirety of him in.
When my throat muscles swallow around the tip of his cock, his whole body tenses and he pulls against the ropes above him, "Jesus, fuck – Oh god." He's close to the edge so I pull back a moment. I hear this is torturous, even painful, for men – to stop on the cusp of orgasmSo, I feel alittle bad for pulling away. I wipe away saliva from the corners of my mouth with the back of my hand and smirk at his frustrated expression. Truthfully, the image of a desperate Bellamy stretched out and restrained on the bed is a little overwhelming.
I shake my head, "Not yet." It's a delicate line I'm at. If I stop at the wrong time, or don't resume stimulation quickly enough, it'll result in a ruined orgasm, which is the opposite of the desired outcome…
He rasps, exasperated, "I swear to god, I'll do anything."
I raise an eyebrow, "Anything?" I chuckle, "Like what?"
"Anything, whatever you fucking want, just please, don't stop."
"That's quite a blank check…" I smirk, "Fine, I won't stop. Just remember, I haven't given you permission to come yet."
As I take him back in my mouth, he chokes out, "Oh goddammit…" God, the way he fills my mouth, my throat, my mind… it's like paradise. There's something I never thought I'd believe: that sucking cock would be paradise. But this is Bellamy's cock. So many things about it are heavenly.
After taking him to the edge and back at least twice, lift my head away, but mimic the movements of my mouth with my hand while I speak. (I promised I wouldn't stop, after all).
"Should I let you come?"
This man – this dominant, intimidating, beautiful man – is below me, chest heaving, begging for something only I can give him.
The tendons in his neck are so tight they might pop when he nods frantically, "Please… I swear..."
"Okay. I'm gonna put my mouth back on you, and when I tap your hip three times, you're gonna come down my throat." I squeeze a little harder for effect. "Can you do that for me, babe? Can you give me your come?"
He drops his head back and a string of obscenities drips from his desperate lips. Then, "Yes. Please, yes."
I swirl my tongue around the head and take him back in until he's deep in my throat. The lurch of his body as I swallow around him is wholly satisfying. When I tap my permission, his release is nothing short of glorious. His whole body shakes and surges as he empties himself down my throat, and I suck him off like it's the best fucking thing I've ever tasted. I clean him off thoroughly but gently, aware of his hypersensitivity after orgasm.
I sit back up and look down at the wrecked man before me. I smile when I consider: I did this. While he continues to come back around, I lick soft patterns along the beautiful planes of muscle on his abdomen. When I flick my tongue on his nipples his chest jerks forward before he can stop it. I chuckle at his surprise reaction.
His breaths even out and he opens his eyes, "Holy fuck."
I laugh, "Well… fuck is accurate. I don't know that there's anything 'holy' about it." I roll my pelvis and grind myself on his thigh, and the sensation of his scratchy hair on my bare cunt is quite heavenly. Even more so than it was earlier.
He lifts his head up to look down at my cunt where it grinds relentlessly on him. "Shit… You're fucking yourself on me again."
I give him a sultry look while I gyrate above him, "Your body is mine… I'll use it how I see fit." His fingers twitch in the restraints above him, and I know he's picturing himself playing with my nipples. I gather up some of my own wetness before bringing my fingers to my breasts and tweaking my nipples for him.
"Jesusfuckingchrist… that's so fucking hot…" He huffs, "You're so fucking hot."
I look down and see he's already getting hard again… In my original plan, I was going to end the night by sitting on his face while he licked me through a few mind-blowing orgasms. I'm hit with the realization that without Bellamy's firm hand guiding me, I might not come as hard, or at all… I've had enough of this dominance shit for one night. It's fun, but it's a lot of fucking work, and I miss the intensity of pleasure I get from submitting to Bellamy. The promise of a mind blowing orgasm with Bellamy in charge outweighs the fun of this experiment.
I rise off of him to release the bed restraints then crawl back onto the bed to straddle his waist while I untie his wrists and inspect them for any marks. Bellamy's body nearly vibrates below me. My heart races with anticipation when I see how incredibly desperate he is to ravish me.
I'm not even ashamed of the desperation in my voice when I beg him, "Touch me… please." Without wasting a second, he greedily explores my achingly sensitive body with insistent hands while I bend down and slant my lips over his mouth, drawing him into an intoxicating kiss. I pull back and rest my forehead against his. Breathlessly, I surrender, "I'm done. Please… do what you want with me."
He growls, the noise colored with both relief and hunger, as he flips us over and descends on me. He tangles his fingers into my hair and pulls my head roughly to one side. Shivers shoot through me while his teeth graze my neck before he bites harshly onto my collarbone.
Bellamy's hand disappears between us and he slips his fingers into me.
He smirks, "I'd say something turned you on."
I sigh, "Obviously… We can talk after, fuck me first."
He stops, the look on his face menacing, "Are you, or are you not, done giving me orders?" Words cannot do justice to the explosion of lust that overwhelms me at his words.
Our eyes lock, "I'm done, Sir."
He curses under his breath and suddenly fills me with one powerful, heaven-sent thrust that wrenches my thighs open so wide, I actually hear the slap of skin as the outsides collide with the sheets. Buried to the hilt, he pauses and rests his forehead against mine while his fingers brush my neck.
His lips are a hair's breadth from mine, "I wanted to be inside you so fucking bad…"
My mouth quirks into a smile, "Me, too." I tighten my walls around him and his whole body surges reflexively into mine. I hook a leg around his waist, but before I can anchor myself there, he grasps my ankle and unwraps it. He slips out of me when he grabs my other ankle, then presses my legs up by my head to fold me in half. These are the times when I'm grateful for the flexibility I've maintained through Yoga. He leaves his hands on the back of my ankles to keep me folded over, then spreads his knees to widen his stance. He releases one ankle and I hold my leg in place with my hand while he grasps himself to line up with my entrance.
When he doesn't move, I whimper, "Please!"
Bellamy's smirk is wicked, and I know this is payback for the torment I just inflicted upon him. My heart speeds up with excitement for whatever is to come.
"Patience, Princess." He taps the head of his heavy cock against my clit, and the contact sends zings of pleasure through me. My eyes dart to his, and his darkened expression forces the air from my lungs. He rests his cock just at the boundary of my cunt, then brings his hand back to my ankle. He narrows his eyes as a brief warning, then snaps his hips forward so his cock roughly (wonderfully) impales the swollen flesh of my pussy. His loud groan matches mine in erotic harmony as he bottoms out inside of me. As he slowly pulls back out, I reach above my head and plant my hands on the bedpost for leverage. I know how hard he wants to fuck me like this. And oh god, he does not disappoint. My gasp transforms into a full-bodied moan that bobs with each powerful snap of his hips. His gaze is fixed where his cock disappears over and over into me, and the ravenous look on his face is almost too much to handle.
A divine pressure begins to coil at my core, threatening to explode, and as if he can tell (he definitely can), he stops. He lets my right leg come down and rest straight for a moment, then straddles my thigh and sinks back into me. He still presses my other leg up by my ear, then thrusts into me again at the same relentless pace as before. My throat protests the pleasured cries that I'm unable to suppress.
His graveled voice penetrates me as he voices profane thoughts and encouragements, "You feel so goddamn good around me…" His fingers dig into me and my voice bobs with every thrust while he drives into me, over and over again. "God, I love fucking you…" His eyes feel like a physical caress as he beholds my writhing form.
Bellamy pulls my free leg up and holds it flush against his torso, already slick with sweat. With each plunge, he grinds against my clit and the motion allows his cock to explore the deepest parts of me. Beads of sweat drip down his forehead onto my calf, and he chases the trail with his lips while his tongue darts out to taste the salt on my skin. He shifts his hips slightly and hits a wonderfully sensitive spot inside of me that draws out a lecherous groan. I bring a fist to my mouth to muffle my cries, but Bellamy shakes his head and pulls my arm away.
"Nuh uh. I wanna year you…" He huffs a gravelly laugh, "Fuck, I want the neighbors to hear you."
Bellamy gives a particularly effective thrust to that end, and the sounds that escape me are downright obscene. He bends down to capture my lips with his own and pulls me into a devouring kiss that nearly sends me over the edge.
I pull away with a sharp gasp, "Oh god, please! I'm gonna come, Sir!" I feel the curl of pleasure in my toes, the pressure building in my core, "Please, stop or let me come… I can't stop it…"
He shakes his head and soothes, "Shhh, Not yet… You can hold it for me."
My head thrashes from side to side and my eyes slam shut, because the image of Bellamy relentlessly fucking me is too much to handle. His voicedrips with sex right now. I get light-headed at his vulgar tone while he utters his filthy thoughts and praises against the lit-up nerve endings on my skin. I shift my focus to anything but the pleasure that's bursting to escape me – the slap of his skin against mine, the sound of blood rushing through my head, the drag of sheets underneath our bodies. Finally, I'm able to edge myself down.
"That's it, Princess… I told you, you could do it." The stubble of his five-o'clock shadow abrades the sensitive flesh of my calf as his lips trail along, his teeth lightly grazing me.
"Oh, god!" My whole body jolts when he presses his thumb to my clit, sending a surge of unexpected pleasure through me. He smiles at the way my body shakes while I keep my orgasm at bay. He cherishes my agony as I control the bliss that burns inside of me.
"That's a good girl, just hold it there for me." I whimper at the term that is my kryptonite... He wraps his hands around my hips and pulls me roughly against him as he increases the intensity with each thrust, and just like that I'm about to topple over again. "I can feel it, Princess… you need to come, don't you?"
I nod as I bite my lip so hard that tears well up behind my eyes. "Please…"
"Alright, Princess… Come for me, now."
And as if awaiting for permission, my orgasm completely shatters me. My ears ring and time slows as my entire body tenses in ecstasy. I vaguely register that the ragged moan that surrounds me is, in fact, my own. My eyes are sealed shut and my chest heaves as pure bliss pulsates through my trembling body.
Suddenly I'm on my stomach with my ass propped up on a small pillow. Bellamy straddles the outside of my legs, spreads the flesh of my thighs and ass apart, and surges into my still-convulsing cunt.
He wheezes in surprise, "Jesusfuckingchrist, you're still coming?" My first attempts at speech are mere whimpers. I thought it was too soon to orgasm again, and maybe I didn't, but new angle of invasion immediately sends me into an even higher summit of pleasure. Bellamy covers my shivering body with his own, interlacing our fingers and anchoring our hands above my head while he fucks into me harder and harder. He loses all semblance of rhythm and I know he's approaching climax.
My plea is desperate, "Please, come inside me…"
I revel in the sound of Bellamy's guttural moans as his body jerks and his hips propel themselves into mine while he finally empties himself into my depths. He collapses on top of me, and it'll probably be difficult to breathe soon, but for now I relish his weight as it pins me into the mattress. The random aftershocks of orgasm draw satisfied grunts out of the man on top of me.
His breaths are still harsh in my ear, "Oh. My. God."
I squeeze his fingers between my own and breathe, "Yeah…"
After a few more moments, he rolls off of me and flops down to my side, then pulls me up to rest on his chest. My fingers curl along his bare chest as we lie in comfortable silence.
Just as I'm dozing off, I feel his voice rumble, "What did you think?"
I look up at him with a lazy smile, "It was… different."
"Different, huh?"
I chuckle, "Yeah. What about you?"
"I didn't hate it." He looks me in the eye and senses my concern that I messed it up or something. Immediately he assuages my fears. He gently traps my chin with his thumb, "Hey, you were amazing. You took to the responsibility really naturally, from my perspective." He huffs with a smirk, "I mean, shit – it felt really fucking good at the end."
I nuzzle against him, "Good."
"What are your thoughts, besides it being 'different'?"
I shrug, "Well, like you, I didn't hate it, but it was a lot of work to have to pay such close attention to each reaction so I could try and anticipate things quickly enough." I chuckle, "I'll be honest, your frustration was amusing as hell…"
He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, that was something I'm definitely not used to."
"Being denied?"
He nods, "Yeah. Then just focusing on that denial more and more ended up making it exponentially more torturous, you know?"
I laugh, "I can definitely say that I do know. It's interesting, I was watching you, and it was like you were into it, but not the same way I'm into it."
"I guess that's to be expected, given our normal roles." He pauses a moment, "How do you mean, though, specifically?"
"Well, you're well aware of my praise kink," he nods in agreement and I continue, "But when the roles are switched, it seems like it affects you differently. Like, I get off on it… I really get off on it. But you?" He furrows his brows and waits for me to gather my thoughts. "It seemed more like you were satisfied. Whereas it makes me desperate for more."
He nods, "I think I get what you mean." His fingers trail absent patterns on my back while he speaks, "You're right, it's not really a specific turn-on for me. It wasn't a turn-off." He looks suddenly concerned he insulted me, "That's not to say you did it wrong or anything."
I shrug with a smile, "I know. It's just not who you are in here." I chuckle softly and press my finger into his chest, "And who knew? You areterrible at following rules…"
He scoffs with mock offense, "I follow rules all the damn time."
I grin, "Not in this context."
"That's true. I didn't think it would be that difficult, though."
"What wouldn't be that difficult?"
"Following the rules... Well, I knew not touching you would be difficult, but I think I overestimated my willpower when I thought it would be simple enough not to give in."
"Well, I made it a point to make things difficult in that regard."
He huffs, "That's for damn sure." After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he speaks again, "When you switched gears, and said you were 'done,' it seemed kind of sudden. What happened there?"
I smile, "I just thought about the fact that your… direction and commands – they make things so much more powerful for me in terms of climax, and pleasure in general." I rest my chin on his chest, "I literally did a short pro-con list in my head, deciding whether I should sit on your face and order you to eat me out, or put the ball back in your court."
He grins and I swear his chest puffs up with well-deserved pride, "Well…" He chuckles, "I'll say it again, for the record, you were really good in that role tonight. And I would've been fine to keep going."
"Good… I should've asked about the ropes thing earlier, though."
He gives me a lop-sided smile and brushes his thumb along my cheek, "It didn't cross my mind, either. Not until I was there."
"Did it trigger something specific?"
He furrows his brows, "I guess it wasn't until I felt the immobility caused by restraints that it hit me."
"What hit you?"
"The fact that I was vulnerable in an unfamiliar way. And it was uncomfortable in that respect." He thinks a moment before he continues, "I've been in restraints before – when I was learning how to tie. For me, part of developing skills as a ropes top involved having myself tied first. It gave me an understanding of what each position or tie felt like for the bottom. And there are the times when you practice knots on me, too. So it's not like it was completely new."
"But it was different this time."
He nods, "I wasn't at anyone's mercy those times. There wasn't any feeling of helplessness because it was essentially… educational in context."
"That makes sense." After a moment, "I'm sorry I didn't think of it before."
He shakes his head, "Don't be. You made it okay – staying close, maintaining contact, talking to me – you made it comfortable."
I kiss his chest, "I just thought about what you do for me, and tried to emulate it. That goes for pretty much everything tonight."
Bellamy smiles gently, "I noticed. I was pretty proud of you for it, too."
"Thanks."
"So is this a one-and-done thing? Or do you want to do it again in the future?"
I shrug, "I'm not opposed to a repeat. You?"
Bellamy smiles gently, "Not opposed either. I honestly thought I might hate it. But it was an interesting change-up."
I think about the way he overpowered me after I was "done" and I can't stifle a moan. He raises an eyebrow in question and I laugh softly, "I was just thinking about just now… when you took over again."
"And?" His low voice sends shivers through me.
"It was breathtaking. Like, fucking amazing. I don't know if it was because it was such a sudden and stark reversal of the roles, or if you were extra… dominant on purpose. But that alone was just…"
He shoots me a cocky grin, "Yeah." His fingers drum soft and slow against my naked back while we bask in comfortable silence. He looks down at me and says, "Three months…"
I smile, "Three months. You excited?"
He nods, "Of course I am. You'll be finally be my wife."
I rest my ear over his heart, listening to the steady, powerful beats. "I'm glad we're doing an actual wedding."
He chuckles, "Really? I couldn't tell. Between your firing of three wedding planners and chewing out two bakeries, I was thinking you were hating idea again."
I shrug, "Oh, don't worry, I hate planning it. But it will be worth it, to be able to have the people we love there." I huff, "And it's not like I'm a typical 'bridezilla,' okay? I fired those people because they kept trying to get me to go big. That's like the opposite of bridezilla. And I didn't like how that last one was so… handsy."
Bellamy laughs, "That's why you fired her? Aw Clarke, were you jealous?"
I roll my eyes, "Jealous is not the word I'd use. I was irritated." He pokes me playfully, but I still feel the need to justify myself. "She was inappropriate. And she didn't seem to like me, so what was the point of involving her in our wedding?"
He looks down at me with a gentle but serious expression, "I'm not questioning your decisions, Clarke. Jealousy is a new look on you."
I laugh, "No it isn't. You're so full of shit… I get jealous of plenty of things. I just wasn't jealous of her. Jealousy implies that she had something I wanted, when truthfully, it was the other way around."
He nods, "Point taken."
I give him a grin, "I think the word you're looking for is territorial… And I will happily admit that I was absolutely being territorial." I prop my chin on his chest and look him in the eye, "If a bitch can't take a hint, I'll make her back off." I get a thrill out of the glimmer in his eyes when I tell him, "You're mine. And only mine." He smiles and I press a kiss to his chest, "Just like I'm only yours."
He pulls me up so my face hovers above his, "Damn right." His growling voice sends shivers down my spine as he wraps his hand behind my neck and pulls me down for a deep, all-consuming kiss that literally takes my breath away.
Three months, and he'll be my husband.
End Chapter Notes
So... that's not the end of Domme Clarke encounters. They'll probably revisit it in the future, but for now they've got other pressing matters at hand (*cough cough*...wedding... Baby making, baby-having, etc).
I rewrote this chapter at least 4 times before it was something I like, and i hope you guys enjoyed it.
As always, COMMENTS and FAVORITES/FOLLOWS are truly appreciated - it makes my day, every time, to get notification in my email. So keep them coming! Please!
Also, on my tumblr ( MissEMarissa) I've started a little endeavor that people seem to like ~ Incorrect Quotes from The 100 ~ I highly encourage checking them out if you have a minute. Humor is how I deal with ALL THIS Pain from this season. :)
And last but not least, THANK YOU for reading!
