Chapter 54: Not the Same
Summary
Clarke's entire body freezes. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them again. I look up at Bree, who is blissfully ignorant of the the hell Clarke is ready to unleash upon her. Clarke stands, calm and collected. Only the clenched muscle of her jaw belies her composure.
Chapter Notes
Thank you all so much for your support! The reviews have been so motivating, and I'm so grateful for them. So PLEASE, keep them coming!
This chapter was meant to be shameless PWP, but somehow a bunch of feels, a little angst, and some good ol' plot development snuck in there, too. Not sorry. (But don't worry, there's still a large helping of smut).
**Trigger Warning:**
Some aftermath of kid-on-kid violence (8 yr olds)
Public sex kink
[Thank you to Amber ( bilexualclarke) for being a lovely beta! And shoutout to Maggie ( bellohmyblake) for the daily writing encouragement and smutty inspiration :)]
[Bellamy POV]
I'm finishing up an email to my boss when my cell phone rings. It's Alex's school, so I pick it up immediately.
"Hello?"
A woman speaks, "Hello, is Bellamy Blake available?"
"You're speaking to him."
"Hello Mr. Blake. This is Mel, in the clinic, and I'm here with Alexandra.
"The clinic? Is she okay?"
"Alexandra was involved in a scuffle at recess today, and she's sustained a minor injury." The nurse's voice is calming, but my head is already reeling with panic.
"What do you mean a minor injury?"
She takes a deep breath and answers, "Well, it looks like she's going to have some bruising on her face, as well as some scrapes. Also some lacerations on her knees and elbows." I swallow down the bile that rises from my stomach as she continues, "I'm sorry to bother you, but we couldn't get hold of Clarke or Nate, and you're the next emergency contact."
"No, that's fine. Clarke is probably in surgery, and Nate is out of town this week." I start packing up to leave work early.
She asks, "Do you think you could come to the school? It would probably be best for Alex to take the rest of the day off."
"I'm already on my way. Can you put her on the phone?"
"Certainly." I hear muffled voices on the other end of the line, followed by Alex.
"Hi, Bellamy." My heart lurches at the thick sound of swallowed tears.
"Alex, are you okay?"
"I'm okay now." She sniffs, "I just wanna go home."
"Yeah, kiddo. I'm on my way there right now, okay?"
"Okay." I hear her breaking down in tears again, and I feel completely helpless to do anything about it.
"Just hang in there. I'll be there soon. I'm going to keep trying to get hold of your mom, too. Hopefully she'll be able to meet us there."
Another sniff, "Thank you."
"I'll see you soon, okay?"
"Okay."
The nurse comes back on the line, "Mr. Blake?"
"Yeah, I'm on my way. I'll be there in about twenty, maybe thirty minutes max."
"We'll see you, then."
I hang up and blow out a chest full of air. I call Clarke on my way to the car and leave a message for her to call me as soon as she can. Traffic isn't awful between the museum and Alex's school, but every minute stopped at a light seems to stretch to eternity while my head reels with unanswered questions. Chiefly, What the hell did she get into a fight over?
I'm on the freeway, almost to the school, when my phone rings. I look down and see an image of Clarke flipping off the camera… normally her contact picture would put a smile on my face, but I'm too on-edge right now. I swipe my thumb across the screen to answer it.
"Clarke?"
"Bellamy, what's going on?"
"It's Alex. She got hurt at school, and they need someone to come get her. I'm pulling off at the exit now."
I can practically feel the panic in her sharp exhale, "Oh, no. I'll meet you there. Did they say what happened?"
"Something about getting in a fight, I think." I pull up to another light and flip my turn signal on, "They didn't say a lot, just that she has some bruises and cuts."
I hear the elevator ding on her end, "I'm heading to the car now. I'll see you soon."
Before she hangs up, she cuts in, "Bell?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For being there."
"I always will be, Clarke. I'll see you soon."
When I get into the school, I'm quickly directed to the clinic, where Alex is curled up in a ball, facing the window, on the cot farthest from the door. I make my way over to the bed and crouch down.
I keep my voice gentle, "Alex?"
Her little body jolts with fright before she turns around to face me, holding a small ice pack to her face.
Her little sigh is laced with relief, "Bellamy."
I take a seat on the cot and pull her into my lap, mindful of the various scrapes on her arms and legs. "Yeah, I'm here. I got hold of your mom. She'll be here in a few minutes." Alex nods quietly and relaxes against me. "You wanna tell me what happened?"
She shrugs, "Can we wait until mom gets here?"
I nod, "Of course. Just rest, okay?"
She curls into my chest with a nod and closes her eyes. The school nurse comes over to replace Alex's ice pack and I can see the bright red edges of what will soon be nasty bruise over her left cheekbone. Cuts and deep scrapes cover the left side of her face. None of them seem deep enough to need stitches or cause permanent scarring, but they're going to take several weeks to heal. I inspect further and find scrapes lining the palms of her hands, her forearms, and a particularly rough abrasion to her left elbow. My blood boils at the realization that this girl was pushed from behind, with significant force.
Before I can get too worked up, Clarke arrives to the clinic, her commanding presence masking her internal panic. She sets eyes on us and crosses the room in a few strides, then quietly crouches down in front of us. Her brows knit with concern, she carefully extends her daughter's limbs to get a view of the injuries. Alex's eyes shoot open with alarm, but soften when she sees her mom.
Clarke smiles gently, but I know her tender touches conceal the fury burning in her veins at whoever put her daughter here. Alex starts to sit up, but Clarke stops her.
Her voice is quiet, "Hey, baby girl. Just stay in Bellamy's arms for a bit while I check you over, okay?" Alex nods and settles against me, limp and tired. Clarke cups her hand around the non-injured side of Alex's face, "I'm just going to move this for a second, okay?" Alex gives a small nod and Clarke carefully moves the ice pack out of the way so she can see underneath it. Alex hisses sharply at the movement. Underneath Clarke's gentle and soothing smile, I see the gears turning in her mind, the storm brewing beneath the surface. She replaces the pack and stands up to address Bree, the clinic aide.
"Can you tell me if she's been given any ibuprofen or acetaminophen?"
The nurse, occupied by another student, answers from across the room, "I'm sorry, but she hasn't had either of those because she doesn't have a supply here."
Clarke nods and fishes through her bag, "That's fine. Can we get some water over here? I have something I can give her." Bree comes back with a glass and Clarke crouches down again so she's eye-level with Alex. She hands her a pill and the glass of water, and Alex swallows both down quickly before she rests on my chest again. Clarke lays her hand on Alex's thigh, "Can you tell me what happened?"
Alex shrugs and tucks her chin to her chest, "A boy pushed me."
Bree makes a sympathetic noise, "Aww how cute. It looks like someone has a little crush on you."
Clarke's entire body freezes. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them again. I look up at Bree, who is blissfully ignorant of the the hell Clarke is ready to unleash upon her. Clarke stands, calm and collected. Only the clenched muscle of her jaw belies her composure. She turns around to face the aide.
Clarke's voice is chillingly calm, "Please tell me I did not just hear you tell my eight-year old daughter that it was 'cute' that a boy physically harmed her, that he even touched her without her consent." Bree's mouth drops open as Clarke steps closer, "Did you seriously just say that?"
Bree stands up straighter, "I didn't mean it like that, it's just a thing they say, you know, because it's cute when boys don't know how to tell girls they like them."
Clarke casts a withering glare, "Right. Ten years from now, is it going to be 'cute' when that boy beats the shit out of a girl because he doesn't know how to appropriately express his feelings?" Bree is silent so Clarke continues, "Are you telling my daughter," She points over at a student on a cot, "And that little boy, and everyone else here, that violence against women is 'cute?'" Clarke doesn't once raise the volume of her voice, but her cutting tone leaves no room for interpretation: She is furious.
Bree shakes her head, "No. You're right." She stares at the corner of the room with a stunned expression, "I hadn't thought of it that way before."
Clarke pinches the bridge of her nose, "Please, think about the message you're sending with your words." She turns back to Alex and kneels back down in front of us. Her voice is gentle again, "A boy pushed you?"
Alex blinks back tears, "It was Cole."
Clarke frowns, "Your friend, Cole?"
Alex nods, "Dee and Matthew were teasing him, that he liked me, singing 'Cole and Alex sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G' and he kept saying no he didn't, and I said no I didn't-" her voice hiccups as she narrates, "-and we were both trying to make them stop, but then everyone started saying it and they were all being too loud and wouldn't listen, so I ran away because I was crying and-"
Alex's chest heaves as she gulps for air, her face wet with tears. My hand rubs steady circles on her back, "Shh, slow down, it's okay."
After a few slow breaths, Alex calms down and gives herself a moment to think. Her trembling hand fists itself into my shirt and she uses it to wipe her tears away while Clarke places a soothing hand on her shoulder.
After a few moments, she continues, "Then, I heard Cole yell that he didn't like me at all, and I could hear his voice was getting closer, and I thought maybe he was following me to help me because I was crying, so I slowed down to wait for him…" She wipes her tears away with the back of her mangled hand. "The next thing I knew, my face was on the sidewalk and my arms and hands were bleeding." Her body trembles, "I didn't even know it was Cole who hurt me until someone told me." Her cries become heavy, my ears ring with her distraught words, "He hurt me… my friend hurt me... " My stomach churns as I listen to her betrayed sobs.
Clarke wipes tears away from her own eyes, "I'm so, so, sorry, baby girl." Alex reaches for her mom and I help move her to Clarke's arms. Clarke holds her daughter in a fierce embrace, like Alex might disappear if she were to let go. It isn't until Alex is out of my lap that I realize I'm shaking with anger.
"You call that a 'Scuffle?'" I ask, "Where were the teachers? Why the hell was this able to evenhappen?"
The nurse comes over to talk with us, "I don't know all the details, but it is my understanding that the Principal would like to discuss with you what happened.
We're told that Cole is to be suspended for two days. I bristle at the news, ready to demand that the kid be expelled, but Clarke stops me.
She explains later, after we've put Alex to bed, "This incident is rooted in more than just one child, Bellamy. Cole's parents are good people. I'm going to talk with them about what happened. Alex and Cole have close been friends for three years." A fact which makes this incident, this betrayal, all the more traumatic for Alex. This boy, this friend she trusted, caused her severe bodily harm at a moment when she thought he was going to comfort her…
Her vulnerability was answered with violence... How devastating for a little girl who has always loved so freely, trusted so easily.
Clarke leans against me, "I hate this, so goddamn much. He has always been a sweet kid with a good heart." She shakes her head, stares fixedly at her clenched hands. "But he fucked up so bad." She blinks back tears, "He hurt my daughter, and my heart is broken for her…" I pull her into me while she cries openly, "I know I'm supposed to instill lessons about forgiveness, but how am I supposed to apply that here?" Her body shudders, "I don't expect Alex to forgive him and I won't ask her to." I hold her close, murmuring soft comforts in her ear.
She sighs tiredly, wipes the tears from her eyes, "I also know that he is an eight-year old boy who panicked while a throng of unsupervised children were teasing him. He made a bad and violent choice that, judging by Alex's reaction, probably cost him his friendship with her." Clarke's frustration is palpable, "I hate that this might damage Alex's trust in people."
My thumbs rub absent-minded circles against her skin, "I know. But Clarke, she's going to get through this. She has so many people who love her, and we're all going to be there for her right now."
Later that night, we lie in bed, her back cradled to my chest, just resting in the comfort we give each other. After the day's events, neither of us is in the mood to fuck, but we need each other's touch.
I touch my fingertips to the various marks I've left on her with the instruments we use in play. Bruises. Welts. All in varying degrees of healing stages. I trace the outline of a yellowish-green mark, and my fingers flinch as my head draws comparisons to Alex's injuries. My stomach lurches as I think about the bruises, the abrasions, suffered at the hand of her friend.
How the fuck am I any different?
"They're not the same." Clarke answers before I can even ask.
"How?" my voice cracks.
She turns her face and catches my gaze with a gentle smile. "I ask for mine. I beg for them. Alex didn't… That is what's different. She had no choice." her soft fingers glide gently over my knuckles. "I've told you before, I love them. They make me feel safe… They remind me how much you loveme…"
My lips drag lightly over her skin, tracing the the faded welts left high on her back from the cane. I kiss tenderly each mark I can reach before she turns over to face me. Her fingers rake through my hair and she holds me in her piercing gaze.
"See? You cherish them as much as I do." She pulls my face to hers and captures my lips with her own, moving them together in a slow, burning kiss. It doesn't scorch us with passion. It brands our souls together… Slowly. Steadily. Permanently.
I trace my thumb over her cheek, watching her eyes trace the constellation of freckles on my face. "I really fucking love you, Clarke."
She nods with a soft smile, "I know…" Echoing the first time we said those words to each other. "I really fucking love you, too."
Alex doesn't return to school.
The incident occurred on the cusp of summer break, with just days to go before school ended. Alex doesn't feel safe there, with good reason. There is little to no academic learning left at this point in the school year. Exams are over, it's just class parties and end-of-year desk clean outs. Clarke and Nate don't see the merit in forcing Alex to endure the teasing and pointing at her bruised and lacerated face, especially not at the hands of those who caused it.
On the first day of summer break, Cole and his parents come by with some get-well gifts, to see how Alex is doing. She turns him away. The regret and sorrow in the boy's eyes are clear, but the pain in Alex's heart is still vividly evident on her face. Clarke is right. Alex will probably never let him back in.
In the weeks after school ends, things are getting back to normal. The scrapes on Alex's skin are mostly healed, the bruising on her face has faded considerably and we are all ready to get back in the swing of things. Alex has been especially excited about the wedding, which is a month away now. She spends a lot of time with Abby while Clarke and I are at work, immersing herself in top-secret "daughter of the bride" projects for Clarke.
[3 weeks post-incident]
Clarke got called into work this afternoon, leaving Alex and I alone for the evening, so we go out for ice cream. It's become something of a cherished tradition for us over the months.
Alex sweeps her wild blonde curls away from her mostly-healed face as the evening breeze blows through the patio while we sit and enjoy the sunset.
"So, have you thought about what you'll name the baby?" Alex casually asks me before taking a bite of the frozen treat.
"Real smooth, Alex." I'll give her props for not beating around the bush.
"Let it be noted that you didn't answer my question." Her sternly raised eyebrow takes me back fifteen years to Clarke, studying me from across the classroom in music theory, demanding answers and unwilling to hear bullshit.
I laugh, "There isn't a baby yet."
She sighs with a dramatic groan, "Is there ever going to be one? It's been forever."
"It hasn't been 'forever.'" I make air quotes as I mimic her theatrics. "And, to be fair, we didn't actually start trying until very recently. Your mom had to get-" I stumble over my words, "-something… removed." It dawns on me that I have no idea how to explain the process of birth control to an eight-year old. Or if it's even something appropriate. I sputter out, "It's grownup stuff."
Her face twists like she's just swallowed a lemon, "Oh my God, I don't need details."
I laugh, "You literally just asked for them…"
"Yeah but-" She shakes her head, "Eww."
I chuckle while spooning another bite of ice cream out of my bowl.
The brilliant colors of the sunset reflect on the pale skin of her face as she gazes out at the mountains. "You do want one, right?"
"Want one what?"
She shrugs, squinting her eyes at the horizon, "A baby."
I frown, "What do you mean?"
She takes another bite of her ice cream as she contemplates her words. "Just… If you don't want to have kids, you don't have to. I know I bug you guys a lot about getting a brother or sister. But you don't have to give me one. I'll stop pestering you."
I frown, "Why would you think we don't want a baby?"
She shrugs, "I know I was an accident. There are lots of babies that are born when they aren't wanted. So I just… I don't want that to happen to a baby."
I recoil slightly at her words. Does she actually think she was not wanted?
I tap her leg with my toe, "Alex. Hey, look at me." She turns to face me, and the vulnerability in her eyes tugs at my heart. "You were not an unwanted baby."
"But I wasn't… planned. They didn't make me on purpose."
I shrug, "So, what?"
"Well, I wouldn't have wanted to have a baby if I had been her. Like, still in school and stuff."
I nod, "I can understand why you think that. But it wasn't like that." Her brows are still knit, her lips still pressed in a thin line. I cover her hand with my own, "Alex, you may have been a surprise, but as soon as your mom found out you existed, she wanted you. We all wanted you." She twists her mouth to the side and nods. I squeeze her hand, "I mean it. There isn't a second that's gone by where you weren't loved and wanted, okay?"
She nods, the line between her brows finally gone, "Okay."
"And just because we're 'planning' this one, doesn't mean we love you any less." I huff "Not to mention, you set the bar pretty high. This kid'll have a lot to live up to."
She beams, "Well… we can't all be me."
I laugh, "Not at all."
She smiles, "Thanks."
I nod, "Yeah, kiddo. Anytime." I spoon a bite of her ice cream and she smacks at my hand.
She glares playfully, "Hands off, mister."
"You better finish it, then."
With a smirk, she takes a giant bite. Her mouth is full when she asks, "Happy now?"
I nod, "Very. Now finish up. Tomorrow's the first day of summer season for swim team."
The excitement in her eyes is something I'm more than happy to see.
[The following day]
My skin flinches at startling drops of cold water that jar me out of an afternoon nap by the pool. I open one eye and I'm met with a grinning Clarke, dripping wet from a swim. The view of glistening drops of water lining the curves of her body is more than enough to make up for the annoyance of a being so rudely awoken. Still, she doesn't need to know that.
"Really, Clarke?"
She shrugs, "Oops... My bad."
I raise an eyebrow, "You're a bad liar."
She flicks more water droplets at me as she pushes her sunglasses onto her nose and grins at my annoyed hiss.
"Sorry, you just looked a little too comfortable there."
"You're gonna regret that, Princess."
She snorts, "We'll see."
A groan escapes me at the exaggerated twist of her body as she stretches herself out on her lounge chair. I rake my gaze over her supple form, the droplets of water already drying under the heat of the afternoon sun. She's wearing one of those one-piece swimsuits with the sides cut out, and it fits her like a glove. It barely contains her tits, and she knows it's driving me fucking crazy.
Alex's swim team is here, practicing in the lap pool. Since the weather is warm, Clarke and I opt to take some leisure time at one of the Adult-only outdoor pools for a few hours while waiting for practice to let out. Clarke has been nothing if not feisty since we've been here.
I close my eyes again and settle back into my own chair to doze off for a while. My siesta is interrupted by the sound of Clarke's frustrated huffs as she digs around in her bag. I grin internally at her victorious "hmph" when she finally finds what she was looking for. Her shadow is cool over my face and I open my eyes to find her looming over me, curls wild, with an impish grin and a bottle of sunscreen in hand.
She holds the bottle in front of me with a smile, "I need you to put more of this on me."
I sit up and take it out of her hands with a lopsided grin, then pop the lid open while she sits back down on her lounge chair. She stretches her arms above her like a cat luxuriating in the sun's warmth. I squeeze a portion of it into the palm of my hand.
"Didn't I just put this on you?"
She scoffs, "First of all, it's been two hours. I should have reapplied it half an hour ago. Second, are you really going to pass up an opportunity to grope me in public?"
I laugh,"Not a chance." I mumble teasingly, "White girls and their sunburns..."
She shoots me a raised eyebrow, "UV damage does not discriminate. You need to be wearing it, too, Bell."
I roll my eyes with a grin, "Yeah, yeah, I know... I put the spray stuff on already, now get off my back."
She holds her arm up expectantly, presenting it to me. My hand wraps around her forearm, "You can't reach your own arms?"
She flicks her wrist and smiles, "I like it better when you do it. Plus, your hands are bigger. More efficient." She looks up at me from under her sunglasses, "Don't be too efficient, though."
My lips curl up in a grin, "I wouldn't dream of it, Princess." I massage the cream into her arms, her shoulders, taking the time to enjoy the feel of her skin against my hands. After I finish her arms, I tap her side, "Sit up, I'll get your back." She moves to my chair and sits down between my parted legs, giving me easy access to her back. I map her curves with my palms, mesmerized by the contrast of color between her skin and my own. As I massage the lotion in, I slide my fingers underneath the edge of her suit, displacing it just far enough to get a glimpse of some of my marks from last night. During the summer months, I'm careful about where I mark her. As much as I enjoy seeing the evidence of our activities on her body, neither of us feels like fielding questions from concerned friends.
My thoughts are interrupted by the wiggle of her hips under my palms. "Bell... You alright there?"
I clear my throat, "I'm good."
"Then get back to it, already..."
I return to my task with an amused chuckle, covering her soft skin with the lotion. My fingers flinch against her skin at the obscene groan that escapes her.
"Princess," I growl.
She shrugs again with an innocent "hmm?" as I slip my finger underneath the low back of her swimsuit.
"Careful what you start..." I graze the cleft of her ass cheeks with my fingers and grin at her surprised squeak before moving on to the rest of her body. She is soft under my palms as I smooth them along the exposed skin of her sides, gratuitously slipping my fingers underneath the slip of thin fabric that stretches down her front. She leans back into my chest and I rest my cheek against her temple, her skin soft against mine. The sharp scent of chlorine combines with the distinct aroma of sunscreen, like I'm breathing in summer.
I sweep my thumbs along the undersides of her breasts, and a grin stretches across my face when her nipples harden underneath the thin fabric of her suit. She lets go a tiny squeal when I pinch the side of her breast and glances around with slight panic.
I chuckle in her ear, "Relax, we're the only ones out here."
Clarke nods and leans back against me with a relieved exhale while my hands roam freely over her torso. The light caresses along the swells of her tits become firmer, more purposeful, until I'm kneading shamelessly at the heavy globes. She startles herself with her own loud groan when I roll her nipples between my fingers. As if she suddenly remembers where we are, she grips my wrists with her hands.
She hisses, "Bellamy! People could see!" I grin, taking note of the fact that she didn't tell me to stop, nor did she try and pull my hands away.
I nuzzle her neck, "No one can see you." She drops her head back on my shoulder and loosens her grip on my wrists just slightly as I resume my teasing touches. My lips graze the shell of her ear, "Except for maybe those tennis players down there." With a sharp inhale, she jerks her head up to see two couples playing doubles at the courts below us. My hand makes its way down her abdomen and I revel in her full-body shiver when I ask, "If they looked up here right now, what would they see, Princess?"
She answers with a silent shrug. I deliver a twisting pinch to her nipple and grin at the way her tits bounce with the flinch of her body.
"I asked you a question."
She whispers, "They would see me, Sir."
"Fuck, yeah they would." My fingers slip beneath the front of her suit and tease her mound for just a moment before I pull them back out. I smile against her skin when she chases my touch with a thrust of her hips. My hand slips between her thighs and a low growl escapes me at the sizeable wet spot where her arousal seeps through the fabric. I pull my hand away and she tightens her grip on my wrist again. My head goes hazy as she guides my hand back down and spreads her legs wider in an unmistakable invitation.
"Tell me what you want, Princess."
She breathes, "You know what I want."
I chuckle, "I want to hear you say it." She squirms while I tease the edge of her swimsuit again. "Come on, Princess... Tell me."
"I want you to fuck me with your fingers, Sir." The needy quality of her raspy voice makes my head fucking spin...
I nod my head toward the tennis courts, "What if they see you?"
"Maybe they will, Sir." She says with a shrug.
I scrub a hand over my face, "Fuck, you want them to see you?"
She whimpers something unintelligible as she pulls my hand back from my face and guides it to her tits. She slowly rocks her hips forward so my fingers slip underneath the edge of her bathing suit.
I huff in disbelief, "Holy shit, you do."
She whines, "Please..."
"Alright, Princess..." I slip my fingers between her folds and bite back a moan at the slickness I find there. "You're dripping..." I sink a finger into her, grinning at the sopping sound of her displaced arousal. "Do you hear how fucking wet you are?"
She nods again, "I hear it, Sir."
I laugh, low, "This is all because someone might see you getting fucked?"
Her answering whimper is downright intoxicating. I keep talking while I sink another finger into her, crooking them against her front walls. "If one of them was to look up here, what would you do?"
"I... I don't know."
I press my thumb to her clit and she lets go a sharp cry. Alarmed, she releases one of my wrists to cover her own mouth.
I chuckle, "Uh oh, Princess... That was loud."
Clarke squeezes her eyes shut, afraid to find out whose attention she's attracted. I pull her hand away from her mouth and replace it with my own. She arches her body as I hold her head tight against my shoulder with my palm over her mouth. Her hands are free, she can snap her fingers if she wants to call this. But I know she's not going to. She's fucking into it. Her fingers find their way to her tits to knead and tweak her pebbled nipples.
I whisper low in her ear, "You've got their attention, Princess... What are you gonna do about it?" She thrusts her hips forward again and grinds against my hand. "You gonna get yourself off for them? Give them a show?"
Her nostrils flare as her breaths become ragged. She nods, moans, "Mmmhmm" from behind my palm as I relentlessly work her over with my other hand. It's not long before I feel the walls her cunt flutter around my fingers.
"You're close aren't you?" I huff, pleased by her full-body shiver as she nods frantically, "Yeah, you are... I can feel it."
I pull my hand away from her mouth and she gulps desperately for air. Just before she goes over the edge, I pull my hand away from her cunt, ceasing any and all stimulation. I let my arms fall away, grinning at her confused and highly aroused state.
After a few seconds, her eyes shoot open,blazing with fury as she turns her gaze on me, "What thefuck?"
"I told you you'd regret it." I rake my gaze up and down her flushed body while I suck my fingers clean. I give her a casual shrug as I lean back against my chair, folding my hands behind my head with a smug grin.
Clarke turns away from me with an indignant huff in a laughable attempt to appear unaffected. She eyes the tennis players below us, who, of course, have been playing without interruption. Had sheactually caught anyone's attention, I would have shut that shit down immediately. Clarke knows it. I know it. She trusts me not to truly expose her to a stranger.
Taking advantage of her distracted state, I sweep my arms underneath her as I stand and pick her up bridal style. Her eyes widen as she quickly catches on to my intentions. I laugh at her attempts to squirm out of my grip as I walk to the edge of the pool. Realizing her escape efforts are futile, she snakes her arms around my neck and squeezes herself tightly against me. If she's going down, she's going to make sure to take me down with her. I bend my knees in a ready-to-jump stance.
She protests, "Bellamy, no, I just dried off, don't-"
I interrupt with a laugh,"Sweetheart, I think we both know that you're far from dry right now."
She shakes her head, "No, no, no, no, don't you fucking dare, you son of a-"
Her speech is cut off with a shriek when I jump into the pool, submerging us both in the water. The pool may technically be heated, but it's still a bit of a shock after spending the afternoon baking in the summer sun. I loosen my hold on her and immediately feel the warmth of her thighs around my waist as she twists her body and wraps her legs around me. She pulls my face down, crushing her lips to mine in a fierce kiss. The temperature of the water is all but forgotten as her touch sparks the blood rushing through my veins. I hiss at the jolt of pleasure that shoots through me at the exaggerated roll of her hips when she grinds her heated core against my cock. With a bruising grip on her fleshy thighs, I hold her still while I attempt to regain composure, but it appears that composureis not her desired outcome.
I walk us to the corner of the pool, just near the waterfall structure. The steady, deafening sound of rushing water matches my unwavering, rousing, tormenting need for Clarke, whose body writhes against mine in search of release only I can give her.
I break away, nearly breathless, "You need something Princess?"
She nods, "Please... I need you inside me." Her voice lurches when I pin her body to the wall with my own. My muscles leap under her fingers as she digs them into my sides.
"You want me to fuck you?" I ask against her lips as I thumb the crotch of her swimsuit to the side and part her warm folds with my fingers. "Right here? Right now?" My mind reels when my fingers meet her slick arousal as it seeps out of her.
Her voice trembles, "Please." She whimpers breathlessly at the soft trail of my lips along her jawline, her forehead, her cheeks, as my fingers continue to work her over from the inside. I pull my head away to get a good look at her and I can't fight my satisfied grin when I see the desperate state I put her in.
I peck a quick kiss to her lips, "Alright, Princess.. I got you." Her answering moan is loud and lusty and rings in my ears. However, the unchecked volume of her cries presents a problem. I grip her chin between my fingers, "Hey, now... I can't have you drawing attention over here while I'm fucking you." My hand slides up to cup her jaw, "You don't wanna get us in trouble, do you." She shakes her head quickly as she wraps her arms around my neck. I line myself up to her entrance, "So you've gotta bereal quiet for me. You understand?"
She nods with a strained whimper, "Okay."
I growl, "Wanna try that again, Princess?"
"I'm sorry... Yes, Sir."
I whisper in her ear, "That's a good girl."
With my hands gripping the flesh of her hips, I pull her whole body down on my cock as I thrust up into her. I revel in the choked noise that escapes her throat as I sheath myself fully inside her. With a breathy cry, she tightens her legs and crushes herself against me. My fingers dig into her hips, controlling her every movement with my possessive grasp. Her shuddering gasp rings in my ears as I pin her to the wall and grind into her, angling her hips so my cock drags, hot and harsh, against the very best parts of her. A victorious grin graces her features at my untamed growl when she clenches herself around me.
I rasp against her neck, "Fuck, that's it... That's good... Keep doing that, baby." I brush my lips softly against hers, the tender act a startling and dizzying contrast to our fervid pursuit of pleasure under the water. Soon, the walls of her cunt quiver around my cock as she careens toward climax.
I grip her chin to face me and shake my head, "Nuh-uh, You know better, Princess... You can't come yet."
With knit brows, she whimpers, "I know..."
I swallow her pleasured agony with a deep, demanding kiss as I increase my efforts. She breaks away with a gasp when I change the angle of penetration just slightly.
"Fuck!" She cries out, her voice alarmingly loud. I still our movements and quickly cover her mouth with my hand, wincing at the wet slapping sound of my palm against her face. I'm momentarily distracted and highly intrigued by the lustful groan she gives in response.
"Shh..." I glance around to make sure that we're still the only ones out here. I look back at her now-open eyes, "If I move my hand, can you be quiet?"
She nods and I uncover her mouth. She whispers, "I'll be quiet, Sir... I'll be good for you."
A growl rumbles in my chest as I capture her lips with my own in a bruising kiss. I pick up the pace again, grinding inside of her, a burning pleasure coiling at the base of my spine. I wipe her hair away from her drenched forehead and tangle my fingers into her saturated locks. Her eyes slam shut and she moans into my mouth with each tug at her scalp… I can feel her desperation in my veins.
My rhythm starts to falter as own climax draws near, and as much as I'd like to draw this out, we could be interrupted at any moment. I stretch my other hand, smooth it along her front, drawing from her a ragged gasp when my thumb trips over her aching clit. A searing pain radiates from my shoulders where her nails dig painfully into the skin, wordless affirmation that I'm giving her just what she needs.
I press tight circles against the throbbing bundle of nerves and whisper against her lips, "You've been so good, baby... Come for me... Let me feel you come on my cock."
Her face is a stunning picture of ecstasy as her back arches against me, her whole body tense with rapture. Jolts of pleasure surge through me with each quake of her body as she succumbs to orgasm, her pulsating walls drawing me right over the edge with her. My mind goes numb as we collapse into each other, lost to a world of shared bliss. As I come back around, my head rests on her shoulder and I brush my lips over her bounding pulse while the rushing sound of the waterfall beats in our ears.
I'm jarred out of our post-coital bliss by the clearing of a throat. Clarke's entire body tenses and she looks up at me, eyes wide and swimming with panic. Before I have a chance to look up and see who it is, I hear a familiar chuckle.
"Why am I not surprised?"
Clarke whips her head around to get a glimpse of our voyeur.
"Magnus?" The tension in her muscles dissipates, but the bright flush over her skin deepens.
He smirks and gives us each a nod in greeting, "Clarke. Bellamy." He drops his towel on a lounge chair next to ours, then toes out of his flip flops. "It's always nice to see the two of you."
I nod back with a chuckle while I slip out of Clarke, amused by her barely-noticeable gasp at the sensation. She turns around to face him, perching her forearms on the edge of the pool while I resituate myself and fix her bathing suit. She points over at the sunglasses that rest on the end of her chair, so he picks them up and hands them to her. Even I have to admire the insane muscle definition on the man when he sheds his robe and stretches his body.
Clarke clears her throat as she pushes her sunglasses up on her nose, "I haven't seen you here before."
He sits down on the end of his seat, "I was going to say the same thing."
Clarke gestures toward the main building, "My daughter has swim team this afternoon. You?"
Mag leans forward, knees resting on his elbows, "Same. My son's hockey team is using the ice rink."
Just then, a woman saunters our direction, a sneer plastered on her otherwise attractive features. She takes a seat on one of the plush cabana chairs, crosses one leg over the other.
Magnus greets her with a nod, "Ontari."
She tilts her head with a snarl, "Roan."
Clarke turns around to face me with a raised eyebrow and mouths "Roan?" I shrug my shoulders as she turns back around to face them. Ever the diffuser of tense situations, she introduces herself, "I don't think we've met. I'm Clarke." She nods toward me, "This is my fiance, Bellamy."
Ontari snorts and gives her companion a condescending smile, all but ignoring Clarke. "Aww, Roan... you have friends. How cute."
He rolls his eyes, unaffected by the woman's apparent disdain, "This is my sister, Ontari. She's here visiting for the summer. Don't mind her, she's..."
Ontari sighs, her voice laced with boredom, "You can say it, Roan. I'm a bitch." He shrugs with a smirk. She rises to her feet with a disinterested yawn, "You guys are a drag... I'll be in the hot tub."
Clarke raises an unimpressed eyebrow, "It was a pleasure meeting you, too."
Ontari turns on her heel and waves over her shoulder, "Later, losers."
Magnus Roan sighs as she disappears. "She didn't get a lot of love as a child."
I hoist myself out of the pool and grab a towel, shaking my head in amusement as I laugh under my breath, "Roan… I've known you for years. How do I not know your actual name?"
He grins, "To be fair, I didn't know you as anything other than 'B' until last year."
"We figured Magnus probably wasn't the name your parents gave you."
He shrugs, "My actual name isn't any less conspicuous." He looks over at Clarke, then back to me, "Though I'm intrigued to hear I've been a topic of discussion."
"Well-" My train of thought is effectively derailed when I see Clarke exit the pool and make her way to us with a deliberately hypnotizing sway of her hips, droplets of water clinging to her exquisite curves. There's a healthy flush still working its way out of her body after her orgasm. Her smile laced with feigned innocence, she straightens out her towel before stretching herself out on the lounge chair. Roan is clearly as lost for words as I am while he rakes his gaze over her outstretched form.
Clarke smirks, "You boys doing okay? You're being awfully quiet."
Roan coughs and averts his gaze, giving me an apologetic nod.
Clarke goads with an indulgent wiggle of her body, casually trailing her fingers over her mouthwatering curves, "Oh, come on... I don't think there's anything here you both haven't already seen."
Roan shoots me a raised eyebrow, clearly intrigued by Clarke's display. I'm surprised to find that rather than feeling jealous, I'm incredibly turned on by her teasing.
I clear my throat. "Well, there's a reason you've been a… topic of conversation."
Roan smirks, "Please, continue."
Clarke gives me a look, then turns her head to face him, "What would you say to another play… date. With just the three of us?"
He studies both of us carefully, ideas mounting in his depraved head, I'm sure. A satisfied smile graces his features, "I'd say I like the sound of that..."
Fresh off the excitement of making plans with Roan, Clarke and I head over to pick Alex up from the main building, now that practice has let out. I almost trip over my own feet when she comes into view…
Alex is talking to a kid. A boy. And she's smiling. At the boy. I tamp down the urge to haul over there and push the kid away from her, because he's male and not to be trusted. And yeah, I recognize I may be a little bit on edge and slightly overprotective right now. But, given recent events, I don't feel like it's misplaced. I know for a fact that Nate has been just as intensely protective of Alex since the incident with Cole, so I'm not alone in my concern (or, as Clarke calls it, "brutish overprotectiveness"). Clarke must sense it happening because I feel her calming hand on my forearm as we get closer to the pair.
She whispers, "Bell, calm down and stop glaring. They're just talking."
"Yeah, but it's a him." I groan, "Why can't all her friends be girls?"
Clarke rolls her eyes, "That's sexist." She stops in front and and turns around to face me, "That kid isn't Cole, okay?" I frown and look over where the kids are still talking to each other, oblivious to us.
I watch carefully as Alex touches her fingers to the fading bruise on her cheek and shrugs her shoulders, then smiles at something the boy says. He puts his hands on Alex's shoulders and turns her to the side, and it takes every shred of my self restraint not to go over and pry his hands off of her.
Clarke sighs, "Bellamy." She catches my gaze with her own, "Stop. Look at Alex. If she was uncomfortable or felt unsafe, we would know. She would not be standing there smiling." She shrugs, "Honestly, I'm surprised, but I'm glad."
I can feel a scowl on my face, "Glad?"
She nods, "Bellamy, she has been so isolated since the incident. She missed the entire last week of school before summer break because she was still recovering, and she didn't want to see her friends when she was still all bruised up. And she's still refused see any of them since."
I scoff, "Who could blame her, when they all played a part in her injuries?"
"Exactly. She could use a friend right now who isn't part of that circle." She looks over at Alex, who is laughing, and that's something I haven't seen a lot of lately. Maybe Clarke is right. "I don't want her spending her life afraid of people, Bellamy."
I glance at the kids again, narrowing my eyes at the way the boy is holding Alex's hand between his own. He shapes it into a fist, then pulls her thumb out, and I know exactly what he's showing her. It takes me back twenty years, when I showed Octavia the exact same thing - how it's important to keep your thumb outside of your fist when throwing a punch. The kid positions Alex in a defensive pose, then stands in front of her and holds one hand next to his head. She laughs when he points at his open palm, then shakes her head and throws her fist into it. The kid staggers back a little with a wide grin on his face.
Clarke nudges me with her elbow, "See, look. He's showing her how to throw a punch." She tilts her head with a grimace, "Though I'm not sure I love the idea of teaching her to be violent..."
Clarke and I reach them just as Alex lands another punch to her "target." Clarke clears her throat and Alex spins around with an electrified smile on her face.
"Mom! Look, Max is teaching me how to throw a good punch!"
The kid smiles nervously as I cross my arms over my chest and level him with a glare.
Clarke elbows me as Alex introduces the boy. "Guys this is my new friend, Max." She points at us and tells the kid, "This is my mom, Clarke, and my step dad, Bellamy."
He holds his hand out, "Nice to meet you Missus-"
Clarke answers kindly with a handshake, "-Griffin."
"Nice to meet you Mrs. Griffin." He faces me and offers his hand, "And Mr. Griffin."
Clarke snorts (unhelpfully) as Alex corrects him, "Bellamy is a Blake."
I shake his hand, with possibly more force than necessary. "You can call me Mr. Blake."
He nods and shakes back, "Mr. Blake." He glances behind me, "Oh, hey dad."
I turn around and I'm met with a smirking Roan. I huff under my breath, "Oh, for fuck's sake."
Max picks up his hockey stick and duffel bag and walks past me to stand next to Roan, who tosses an arm over his shoulders.
He greets us, "Bellamy, Clarke, good to see you again."
Clarke laughs, "Roan, It's been what, ten minutes?"
Alex gasps, "You guys all know each other? This is amazing!" She tugs on Clarke's arm, "Mom, can we do a play date with Max and Roan?"
I nearly choke while Clarke manages to answer with a remarkably straight face, "Alex, that sounds like a wonderful idea."
Roan nods, "Agreed."
Clarke grins, "You have our cell numbers, so just text us and we'll work something out."
He shoots me an amused look, "Definitely."
Clarke smiles cheekily while she wraps her arms around Alex, "Can't wait." As Roan and Max depart, Clarke sides up to me and whispers, "Who knew play date would have such a dirty double-meaning?"
End Chapter Notes:
If you need to go back and read the orgy chapters (42 & 43, I think) with Roan as Magnus, you know, for science… nobody will judge you. ;)
Next chapter: actual PWP a la boanlarke. It's been coming along nicely, and I hope to have it done soon, as a good portion of it is already finished... At the risk of overselling, the next chapter some of the most explicit smut I've written. So...
I touched a bit on the topic of interpersonal violence, and violence against women. It's upsetting that the mentality that "abusive behavior is acceptable" is instilled at an early age in this society... I've heard this sentiment repeated to children so many times in my life: "Oh he's being mean because he likes you, he doesn't know how to tell you!" Those seemingly benign words carry a dangerous message for young people - Telling a young child that verbally berating or physically harming someone is an appropriate or acceptable way to show affection. Can we stop doing that, please?
Also, sometimes I feel the need to re-touch on the concept of consent in this lifestyle, and make clear the distinction between BDSM and domestic violence/abuse. I hope I've established over the course of this story that Bellamy and Clarke's relationship is deeply rooted in love, trust and respect. The lifestyle they practice places high importance on explicit consent. The fact is, without consent, this kind of activity and dynamic is abusive.
If you want to talk with me about it, have questions, etc., please, come talk to me on tumblr ( missEmarissa)
The Bellarke Fanfiction Awards are just around the corner ~ I think nominations start sometime next week? Or the week after? It would mean the world if you guys found it in yourselves to nominate me and my fics. All but one of the general categories call for completed fics, which, this one is not. I believe it qualifies for the "best WIP" category. It'd be great to be nominated for one of the "Best Author" categories (*cough* smut, modern AU or Bellamy or Clarke *cough*) if you think me worthy ;) FF doesn't let me add URLs here, but if you look up "bellarkefanfictionawards" on tumblr, you'll be able to find it there.
As always, REVIEWS and FAVORITES/FOLLOWS give me life. They make my day every time, and I'm grateful for each one!
Last, but certainly not least, thank you for reading!
