Chapter 80
Since it was her bachelorette party, the one and only one she would ever have, Clarke decided to dress up and try to be a little stylish. No mom clothes for a night out at Sanctum. No way. She found a glittery red skirt in the back of her closet, one she'd never worn, and was delighted when she actually fit into it. Red wasn't her usual color, but it was high-waisted and looked so good combined with a loose white tank top that she just went with it, adding some jewelry and wearable heels that she'd be able to dance in. Because there was definitely going to be a lot of dancing. Raven loved it, Harper was a freaking dance major, and Octavia probably didn't have any qualms about showing off her moves. Plus, Lexa had returned from her summer with Costia for the weekend, and Lexa, though a bit stiff and wooden on the dance floor, liked being out on the dance floor because she liked watching other girls move.
It ended up being a limo that pulled up outside Clarke's house to pick her up. She hadn't expected that, nor did she know how Raven was paying for it—hopefully she'd asked Clarke's parents or just used Murphy's YouTube money. Inside the limo, all her friends, Aurora, and her mom were waiting. They all had on matching t-shirts that said Bride Tribe, and after her friends complimented her outfit and told her how hot she looked, they made her put on a cheap little veil so that everyone at Sanctum knew she was the bachelorette they were celebrating tonight.
The veil was nice. Even though it got stuck in Clarke's hair a couple of times, once they were at the club and out on the dance floor, it basically fended off any unwanted male attention. No one bothered to come hit on her because it was obvious she was taken. So that meant she was just able to let loose and have a good time with her friends. She danced more than she'd danced in a long time, feeling all young and carefree again.
Since it was a Friday night, though, the club was hot and crowded, and Clarke found that she needed to take breaks. That worked out, though, because her mom refused to get up from their table, so it gave Clarke a chance to interact with her, keep her from feeling left out. "See," she said, sitting down across from her, "isn't this better than a boring rehearsal dinner?"
"It's . . . a little wild," her mom said, looking around. "I can't even remember the last time I went to a nightclub."
Clarke figured it had to have been decades ago. And nightclubs were probably a lot different back then. The music, the way people danced . . . no wonder her mom looked out of place. "You should get out there and dance," she told her.
"Oh, I don't think so."
"Why not? Aurora's dancing," Clarke pointed out. Aurora actually seemed like she was having the time of her life out there. She had moves Clarke hadn't anticipated.
"She's younger than me," her mom pointed out. "And single."
Clarke glanced back out to her bridal party, catching a glimpse of Aurora's long brunette hair as she whipped it around. "Single and ready to mingle," she said, pretty sure her future mother-in-law was dancing with a guy now. Go for it, she thought. Aurora deserved a little fun.
"If I decide to have a bachelorette party, I want you to make sure to keep it mellow and simple," her mom said. "You know, classy."
Clarke plucked at her cheap little veil and teased, "What, are you saying I don't look classy?"
"You . . . look like you're having fun," her mom said. "Which, I suppose, is the whole point of tonight."
"That's right." Sure, her skirt was a little short, and her top showed some cleavage, but it was nice not to feel like her mom was judging her. It'd taken years, but she finally seemed to be loosening up a bit.
When the song changed from something pulse-pounding to something a little more mellow, the girls came off the dance floor, and Raven grabbed a shot. "One for me," she said, downing it. "And one for the still breastfeeding bride." She grabbed another one and threw her head back, drinking it on Clarke's behalf. "Aurora, you coming?" she called back onto the dance floor.
"Not yet," Lexa said, "but I'm sure she will be."
"Ew, gross." Octavia shuddered exaggeratedly and sat down next to Abby.
"I love how the Blakes always just get grossed out by each other," Clarke said as the other girls squeezed in at the table.
"Hey, watch it. You become one of us tomorrow," Octavia reminded her.
"I know. I'm so excited." It was a little surreal to think that she'd start signing checks with a different last name, and when she introduced herself, she'd say a different last name. She wondered if she'd slip up, or if it would all just be a natural transition.
"Are you excited about your honeymoon, too?" Raven asked, giving her a pointed look.
"What honeymoon?" her mom asked.
"Raven's trying to convince me that Bellamy and I should tag along with her and Murphy," Clarke explained. "To California."
"Well, why not?" Raven said. "The flight still has seats."
"But a honeymoon with a baby?" Clarke made a face. "I'm just not sure how that would work."
"Murphy and I can help out," Raven offered. "Trust me, we'll make sure you guys get your alone time."
When Raven put it like that, Clarke really felt the strong tug of temptation. Alone time with Bellamy sounded so nice, especially since they'd be feeling extra lusty and romantic in the midst of their married bliss. She had to think of her daughter, though, and her put her best interests first. "But Avery's so little to take on an airplane," she said. "You know what that is up there? It's all just recycled air. Germs everywhere."
"She's two months old, right?" Raven said.
"In three days."
"Then she's good to fly." Raven held up her phone, showing Clarke a very official-looking article that said it was safe for infants to fly from that point onward.
"I don't know," she said, still nervous about the whole idea. What if the plane crashed? Sure, people claimed they were safer than cars, but it was still a man-made object in a wide open sky. With her precious little baby on board.
"Come on, it'd be fun," Raven urged. "You guys deserve a honeymoon."
Clarke felt her resistance weakening with each and every coercion attempt Raven tried. "But I'd feel bad barging in on your vacation with Murphy," she said.
"Nothing to feel bad about if I'm inviting you."
"True." It wouldn't be the typical honeymoon, obviously, because there was no way she was letting Avery out of her sight for more than a couple hours at a time. But it would still be a vacation, the first one she'd had since Wilmington, actually, and she'd always wanted to go to California. "Okay, what the hell?" she gave in. "Let's do it."
"Yes!" Raven exclaimed, immediately tapping quickly on her phone. "I'll book your tickets now."
"I'll pay you back, I promise." Clarke wasn't sure when she was going to get things packed up. Chances were that they'd be getting home pretty late tonight, and then with the wedding tomorrow . . . there wasn't really a whole lot of time. But she'd make it work.
"While she's doing that," Harper said, whipping out her own phone, "who's down for a little bachelorette trivia?"
"Ooh, competition," Octavia said, clapping excitedly. "Fun."
"Just like her brother," Clarke leaned over and whispered to Lexa. Bellamy and Octavia loved anything where they could win.
"Alright, let's see what we've got here," Harper said, scrolling through some webpage. "Oh, okay, this is just like a fill-in-the-blank thing. The bride's fondest memory is . . . what?"
Everyone exchanged knowing glances, and Octavia said, "I mean, it's gotta be having Avery, right?"
"Yeah," they all agreed.
Clarke nodded, not even having to give that one a second thought. "Yeah, definitely Avery. Although that's also my most painful memory." Now that she'd had one baby without any pain medication, she knew she could have another one that way, too. But hopefully the next one wouldn't hurt quite as much.
"Well, that was easy," Harper said. "Oh, this one's fun. If the bride had a cereal named after her, it would be called . . . ?"
"Frosted Blakes," Octavia quipped right away.
"Honey Nut Lesbos," Lexa suggested.
"Did you guys ever eat Corn Pops?" Raven said. "'cause it could be Cherry Pops since that's what Bellamy popped on you."
"Hmm, creative," Clarke said, knowing her mother was probably inwardly cringing at that last one, "but I think I'm gonna go with Frosted Blakes. That's cute."
"Point for me," Octavia said, even though she was probably the only one who would bother to keep score.
"Okay, what else?" Harper said, continuing to scroll. "Oh, this one's obvious. Abby, cover your ears."
Clarke's mom wasted no time cupping both her hands over her ears.
"The bride's favorite thing to do . . ." Harper said.
"Sex with Bellamy," they all blurted, practically in unison.
"Yeah, it's that," Clarke said, smiling. As if anything else could even come close.
"Okay, Abby, you can uncover your ears now," Harper said. "No, wait, cover them up again. The next one's the craziest thing the bride's ever done."
"Oh, goodness, I don't wanna know," Clarke's mom said, putting the imaginary earmuffs back on as all the girls—even Octavia, who was fueled by her competitive streak—began to make guesses about the various places she and Bellamy had had sex.
...
The place Murphy was dragging all the guys that night looked like . . . nothing much, to be honest. Kind of just a hole in the wall. But that wasn't shocking. Not only was it a strip club, but it was in Polis. And everything was just slightly sketchier in Polis.
"I just want you to know," Miller said as they walked through the parking lot, "I'm only subjecting myself to this torture tonight because of you."
"Well, I'm only here for Murphy," Bellamy said.
"Hey, don't make me out to be some perv," Murphy said. "Everyone knows I'm a hundred percent in love with my girlfriend. But she and I both know that it's normal and natural and even healthy to salivate over other naked people from time to time."
"I'm just saying, if these naked people had dicks, I'd be more into it," Miller remarked.
Bellamy stopped walking when his phone rang. Something told him it was Kane calling, and when he looked at the name on the screen, that was exactly who it was. "Hey, just a minute," he said, stepping aside to answer quickly. "Hey, Kane. Is everything alright?"
"Oh, I'm sorry," Kane said, "I meant to call Abby."
"Oh, it's fine." He didn't mind the chance to get an update on how things were going. "So everything's okay?"
"Yeah, everything's great," Kane assured him.
Even though Bellamy knew he'd left Avery in good, capable hands tonight, he still had all these new dad vibes going on, and he wanted to just make sure nothing would go wrong. "'cause sometimes she gets a little cranky this time of night," he said, "so I usually just get her purple bunny and wiggle that around in front of her face, and that calms her down when nothing else will."
"She's been a little angel so far," Kane told him.
"Right. But if she gets worked up . . ."
"Purple bunny. Got it," Kane said. "Have a good time, Bellamy."
"Hey, she . . ." He didn't get a chance to tell him what to say when he wriggled the bunny around, because Kane ended the call. He lowered his phone slowly, trying to just focus on his bachelor party. Because it was the only one he'd ever have.
"Future father-in-law?" Roan guessed.
"One of 'em."
"Well, that was nice of him to watch the kid while we're all out for a night of debauchery," Murphy said, motioning them hurriedly towards the entrance of the club. "Now let's go."
Like an excited puppy, Jasper bounded in—he'd probably never been to a strip club before—and Monty and Roan followed him. Miller groaned and trudged forward, and Murphy rolled his eyes and punched him lightheartedly on the back, pushing him forward. "Suck it up," he snapped.
"Wish I had something to suck on tonight," Miller lamented.
Laughing, Bellamy shook his head, hanging back a bit. The club was called the Uranus Lounge. Which was a stupid name, but Bellamy expected nothing else. He wasn't even sure he actually wanted to walk in there, but the only guy who stayed outside with him was the one guy he hadn't even been sure he'd invite: Lincoln. "You know," he said, "a couple years ago, I would've been so stoked for this."
"And now?" Lincoln asked.
He shrugged. "Just seems kinda pointless." It wasn't like any girl there could hold a candle to the one he had at home.
"I get that," Lincoln said, holding open the door for him. He walked through it, mostly just because he was down to have a fun night with his friends. The strippers were just . . . extra.
The minute he walked in, he felt . . . out of place. Because he'd been to strip clubs before, but usually there were a lot more people. Guys. Lots of guys. But most of the people at Uranus Lounge seemed to be women. Apparently he wasn't the only one who noticed it, because Monty actually vocalized it when he asked, "Is it just me, or is there something a little off with this crowd?"
All of a sudden, that "Ladies Night" song began to play, and all the girls cheered and swarmed towards the stage. Three male strippers strutted out, shirtless and wearing ass-less leather chaps.
"Oh, fuck yeah!" Miller exclaimed, running forward.
"No!" Jasper wailed. "Dammit, Murphy!"
"How was I supposed to know?" Murphy yelped, throwing his hands up defensively.
Roan shook his head, muttering, "You screwed it up."
"Hey, at least I tried!" Murphy shouted over the music. "At least I tried!"
Honestly, Bellamy wasn't surprised that Murphy had screwed up his bachelor party. In fact, he'd sort of been anticipating it, so it didn't even come as that much of a letdown. But since he had absolutely no interest in watching the show up on that stage, he looked over at the bar instead, figuring that was where he'd start his night.
...
"I don't know if you were aware of this or not," Raven said as she guided Clarke . . . somewhere, "but Club Sanctum has a back room."
Clarke couldn't see a thing, because her best friend had conveniently put a blindfold on her. But when Raven untied her it, Clarke took a look at where she now was. "Ooh." There was a small stage with a pole on it that definitely intrigued her. "What's gonna happen in here?"
"Well, not exactly what you think," Harper said, stepping up onto the stage. "See, my stripper friends had other . . . scheduled events tonight. So slight change of plans." She grabbed onto the pole and swung herself around, looking effortless and graceful the way she always did. "We're gonna do a pole-dancing class," she announced. "And I'm gonna be your teacher."
Clarke touched her stomach and said, "Harper, I just had a baby." She wasn't exactly in pole-dancing shape.
"And you look fabulous," Harper said, reaching out her hand. "Come on up here. Come on."
Still a little unsure, Clarke put her hand in Harper's, letting herself be pulled up onstage. Her mom quickly scurried out of the room, so at least it would just be her and her friends.
"Yeah!" Lexa yelled. "Get it, Clarke!"
"You got this," Raven assured her.
Did she really, though? Harper had a freaking dance degree, so there was no way she was going to look as good as she did up there.
"Now I'm gonna give you some moves to keep your man satis-fied. You understand?" Harper said. "Alright, now pay attention. I'm gonna show you how to do a sexy walk. Like this." She grabbed the pole and demonstrated, strutting around it as if she had a crowd full of Montys watching her. "It's easy," she said. "Now go ahead. Grab the pole."
Even though she felt like she might make a fool of herself, it wasn't like anyone in that room would care or use it against her. Plus, she did kind of like the thought of learning how to do some new sexy stuff for Bellamy, so she cast her inhibitions aside, wrapped her hand around the pole, and mimicked Harper as she walked around it, trying to put on her best sultry face even though she felt like laughing.
"There you go. Very exaggerated," Harper coached her. "Get your hips into it."
She stopped in front of the pole and swiveled her hips from side to side, and the girls all cheered for her.
"Yeah!" Raven exclaimed. "You're gonna put all the strippers he's seeing tonight to shame!"
...
Glancing over his shoulder, Bellamy wasn't surprised to see Miller sprawled out in a plush chair, getting a lap dance from a guy who only wore a gold thong with money tucked into the sides. He looked like he was in heaven.
"Well, at least one of us is turned on," Bellamy said, taking another drink. Sitting at a bar with Roan and Lincoln wasn't exactly how he'd envisioned his bachelor party, but it was what it was at this point.
"They're making the most of it," Roan said, motioning to Murphy, Monty, and Jasper, who were in the middle of their third game of pool. Each one got more competitive than the last, especially since Murphy was determined to win them all.
"You know," Bellamy said, "it wouldn't have even mattered if there'd been girls dancing tonight. I don't think I would've paid attention to any of 'em."
Roan exchanged a knowing look with Lincoln and said, "The kid's in love."
"Sure is," Lincoln agreed.
"No, I'm serious." He wasn't exaggerating or trying to seem more romantic than he actually was. He hadn't really been looking forward to seeing any strippers tonight, so in a way, ending up at this club on ladies' night was perfect. "No one else has ever measured up to Clarke for me," he said. "No one ever will."
...
Gina flipped the page in her textbook, found a question, and slammed her hand down over it to cover up the answer. "Okay, Freud's model of the psyche. Go," she told him.
He remembered drilling Freud stuff with her last week when they'd gotten together to study, but with all the theories these people had, sometimes they got a little jumbled. "That's the id, the ego, and the superego," he replied somewhat confidently.
"Right," she said. "And which part's the id?"
"The instincts." It was stupid, but he remembered that because they both started with the letter I. "Like the primitive, irrational part."
"Yep. And it operates on the pleasure principle," she added, "so it's all about fulfilling basic needs like hunger and sex."
Those are basic? he wondered but refrained from saying. They both seemed pretty damn important to him.
"And the superego?" she continued to quiz him.
"Uh, the conscience," he answered. "It controls impulses."
"Correct. And the ego?" she asked.
"It's like the balance between the two."
"Right. The mediator."
He leaned back in his chair, pondering that, feeling like Freud's whole theory oversimplified things way too much. "I think that's kind of crap, though. What if someone just has a lot of id?"
"Oh, some people do," she said. "Which is why Freud's theories are a complete crock. It's just one of the things they're required to teach you in intro-level psychology."
If so many people had better theories, though, it seemed like a waste of time to even bother learning about it. But if it was true and a human being's personality could be split into three categories like that, he wondered if his ego had been malfunctioning all those years. Because he'd definitely been an id-driven guy in high school. Hell, sex had been his biggest (and best) pastime.
"You wanna keep going?" Gina asked him. "I don't have another class this afternoon."
He didn't, either, but he did have practice in a couple hours. And to be honest, he didn't want to spend all of those hours cooped up in this tutoring center studying. "Right now, my id's tellin' me I need to grab some lunch," he told her.
"Yeah, me, too," she said, closing the book. "You wanna go-"
Before she could finish what she was saying, they were interrupted by a loud, boisterous voice. The same voice the starting offense heard when they were in the huddle. "Blake, my man," Brady said, clapping Bellamy on the back as he came to stand by their table, "don't tell me you're actually studying again. You gotta know by now, there's more than one way to pass a class." He smirked.
Bellamy shot an apologetic look at Gina. He'd never wanted a girl like her to see him around a guy like this.
"And that's probably my cue to leave," she said, gathering up her things.
"No, you don't have to," Bellamy told her. Brady could leave. What the hell was he doing there if he wasn't studying anyway?
"Actually, I do," she said, standing up. "I got a test of my own to cram for. But I'll see you next week?"
"Yeah." Even though he hadn't intended on getting a tutor, it was helping. Gina explained things in a way he could understand, made him feel like he could actually pass his mid-term next month.
"Okay," she said, lifting her backpack onto her shoulders. "Bye."
"Bye." He felt bad as he watched her go, because he felt like his friend—or rather teammate's—presence had instantly made her uncomfortable.
"Gina, huh?" Brady said, sitting down beside Bellamy. "She's . . . average. You could do better."
There wasn't anything going on, though, so Bellamy quickly told him, "She's just my tutor." He wasn't getting another girlfriend anytime soon, and to be honest, even his usually-ravenous id wasn't feeling very hungry for a hookup.
"My tutor can't walk straight," Brady bragged, grinning proudly. He pointed to a girl who was leaning over a table to get a better look at someone's laptop screen. "See her over there with her shirt on backwards?" he said. "I just hooked up with her. She's not the one teachin' me, but I'm definitely teachin' her a few things."
Bellamy had to admit, she was a hot girl, but if she worked at the tutoring center, she had to be pretty smart, too. So what the hell did she see in a guy like Brady?
"Don't you love when they're all young and innocent, and everything they're doin' with you they're doin' for the first time?" Brady said.
That him think of Clarke, of all the firsts she'd had with him. She wasn't the only girl whose virginity he'd taken, but she was still special.
"Although some of it gets better once you break 'em in," Brady went on. "They don't cry as much, don't complain that it hurts. But I bet you won't have that problem with your girl. She looks like she's been fucked a few times."
"I'm not fucking Gina," he said. Maybe a year ago he would have, but right now . . . she was a friend, nothing more.
"Why not?" Brady challenged. "See, I don't understand you, Bellamy. You come here with this whole nice guy routine, studying and shit, won't hook up with anyone, but . . . I don't know." He shook his head, eyeballing Bellamy skeptically. "I just don't think that's the real you."
Because it isn't, Bellamy thought. Not really. He'd never been the nice guy before. But that didn't mean he'd been bad, either. He'd just been young, but even though he was still young, he definitely wasn't the same as the guy sitting next to him; in fact, he refused to be. His mom had raised him to be better. And Clarke would have wanted him to be better. So that was exactly what he was trying to be.
...
Bellamy must have looked incredibly disinterested, because even Lincoln, who he still didn't know very well, could tell that he didn't want to be there. "You wanna go home, don't you?" he said.
Of course he did. Murphy's half-baked attempt at a bachelor party had been an epic fail, and he hadn't really wanted one anyway. There were two people he wanted to be around right now. One of them was out probably having a way better time than he was, and the other one was being babysat by Grandpa Kane.
Everyone except Miller left when Bellamy did—and he had a feeling Miller wouldn't be leaving alone. Roan and Lincoln went home, too, but Murphy, Monty, and Jasper decided to go to Eligius. They invited Bellamy to come, of course, but he told them he was tired and needed to get some rest before the big day tomorrow. Which wasn't entirely untrue. He had to wake up early to get things set up out there on the beach. The wedding arch alone was going to take a while to haul out there.
Avery was tired, too, when he picked her up from Kane's. She was sleeping soundly, so he made sure to avoid any unnecessary bumps and potholes when he drove home. Didn't want to disturb her. She woke up a little when he carried her inside, but not to the point where she whined or cried. She just kind of opened her eyes and smiled at him. Just because.
"You know what?" he said as he walked around the nursery with her in his arms, rocking her back to sleep. "In the past year, I've been a gondolier, a construction worker, a janitor, and a football coach. But being your dad . . . that's the greatest job I've ever had." Gently, he lay her down in her crib and whispered, "Best job in the world." He would have gladly just stayed there for a while, looking down at her and watching her sleep, the front door opened, and Clarke came in calling his name from downstairs.
"Bellamy?"
She was home earlier than he'd expected. Maybe her night had been a bust, too. "Stay asleep now," he told Avery, shutting the lights off on his way out.
"Bellamy, are you awake?" Clarke called up to him.
"Yeah." He went down the stairs, noting the confetti stuck in her hair, and said, "Didn't think I'd beat you home, did you?"
"No." She dropped her purse on the floor, kicked off her shoes, and said, "You must not have stayed long."
"Well, let's just say . . ." He moved in close, wrapping his hands around her waist. "There were a lot of strippers there tonight. But I wasn't attracted to a single one of 'em."
"Aww," she said, "that's so sweet."
He laughed inwardly, but hell, even if there had been female strippers, they wouldn't have been able to hold a candle to her. "What about you?" he asked her. "Any . . . entertainment?"
"No," she said. "Well, kind of. I did sort of get a strip-tease/lap dance from Harper."
"Oh." At first, he was just happy that there hadn't been any strippers at her bash. But then he started to picture Harper doing that to Clarke, and he immediately got turned on. "Oh."
"And she showed me how to give one," she added, pushing on his chest to get him to walk backwards. "Wanna see?"
"Sure."
"Sit down," she said, giving him a gentle push towards the couch.
He plopped down on the cushions, very much looking forward to what he was about to see. Clarke could definitely dance, since she'd been a cheerleader and everything. And the thought of her dancing just for him made his jeans feel tight.
"It's a little bit of this," she said, crisscrossing her arms as she reached down and grabbed her shirt. She swirled and swiveled her torso as she pulled it up out of the waistline of her skirt. Her beautiful, full breasts nearly spilled out of the confines of her bra as she lifted the shirt off her head and tossed it to the floor. "And a little bit of that," she went on, doing a little twirl for him. "And gotta get rid of this." She reached behind to try to unzip her skirt but frowned when it wouldn't go. "Oh, I'm stuck," she said. "Help me."
"Here, I got you," he said, rising to his feet. He went to stand behind her, gave the stuck zipper a good tug, and got it to come down. He pulled her skirt down for her then, letting it drop to her feet.
"Thanks," she said, stepping out of it before turning around to face him. "Knew I could rely on you to undress me."
It was definitely one of the things he was best at. The fewer clothes she had on, the more his hands just couldn't resist touching her. They settled on her hips, right over the sides of her underwear. She was wearing fancier stuff than she had been for the past few months. Maybe this had been her plan all along, to come home and seduce him. Even if it hadn't been, it was working.
Lowering his head, he kissed her. Deeply, too. In fact, he let his tongue dart out to caress hers.
"Wait a minute," she said, pulling back just slightly. "Don't you want your dance?"
He couldn't even fathom the thought of taking his hands off of her, so he said, "I just want you." Their eyes locked, and she smiled softly as he leaned in to kiss her again. Kissing Clarke . . . god, it was like an addiction to him. One he never wanted to recover from.
Instinctively, her hands began to roam all over him, and his pulled her closer. Maybe because she was already almost naked, things heated up quickly. She got his shirt off quickly, then grazed her hands all over his chest. He squeezed at her butt, slipping his hands underneath her panties for that flesh to flesh contact. As content as he would have been to just fall to the floor with her or lay her down on the couch and do her right there, when she mumbled, "Upstairs," against his lips, he obediently hoisted her up into his arms and carried her up to the second floor. They didn't stop kissing; he didn't have to have his eyes open to know where he was going.
"Mmm, is she asleep?" she asked between kisses as he carried her past the nursery.
"Yeah, she's good." He used his foot to kick open the bedroom door, brought her over to the bed, and set her down.
"One last time, huh?" she said, crawling up towards the headboard.
He frowned, standing next to the bed as he undid his pants. "What?"
"Before we get married," he elaborated. "This is the last non-married sex we'll ever have."
He hadn't thought about that, but suddenly, this felt even more important. "Then I'd better make it memorable," he said, shoving his pants down, underwear right along with them. Completely naked, he crawled into bed with her, dead-set on getting her as unclothed as he was. She lay down, as if she were expecting him to get on top of her, but he grabbed her legs instead, bringing them together and lifting them up over his shoulder. It didn't take words for them to get in sync, for her to know what to do. She lifted her hips up and pushed her underwear over her ass and off. He grabbed the sides in both hands and dragged them down over her thighs, her knees, her ankles, and right off her feet. He could smell her arousal even before he pulled one leg out to each side for her, spreading her open to his view. Having a baby definitely made it harder for her to get wet, but as tempting as it was for him to just use some spit to lube her up and plunge right in, he restrained himself. Because he didn't want to hurt her.
Her chest heaved as he stared down at her, just taking in the sight of her gorgeous body. This was his girl, his princess. Tomorrow night, she'd be his wife.
"I love you," he told her. The words just came out on their own.
"I love you, too," she said, smiling.
Even saying those words didn't feel like enough to him, though. How was he ever supposed to express to her just how much she meant to him? It didn't feel like something words could convey.
Luckily, words weren't the priority right now. He lay down on top of her, only long enough to kiss her a little bit more and slip his arms underneath her. Then, swiftly and easily, he reversed their positions so that she was on top of him, so that she could show him what she wanted.
Since they were definitely still getting back into the swing of sex, they'd kept it pretty basic so far with missionary. Clarke had felt too self-conscious about her body to be on top. But tonight, she'd either gotten over it or just didn't care, because she sat up, straddling him like a complete boss and began to grind her pussy against his dick. She did still have some natural lubrication, because he felt it sliding all over him.
"You like that?" she asked, pressing her hands against his chest to keep herself steady as she moved.
"Yeah," he answered huskily. It felt damn good, and he wasn't even in her yet.
"Me, too," she said, smiling excitedly. Still, her eyes flickered towards the nightstand, though, and he knew what that meant. So with his longer arms, he reached over and pulled out the lube, giving it to her.
"Thanks," she said, squirting a little into her hand. She stopped moving for a moment as she reached down to rub it all over her pussy, even up inside her folds. He wanted to help, so he grabbed the lube back from her, put some in his own hand, and reached out with his big fingers to smooth some first on the inside of her thighs, then right around her entrance.
"Oh . . ." she moaned, closing her eyes and craning her neck back as he touched her.
He tested things out by pushing one finger up inside her, just to see if it went in smoothly. And it did. It didn't seem to cause her any pain. In fact, her moan indicated pleasure. Carefully, he fucked his finger up into her a few times before withdrawing it completely. His dick stood at attention, ready to get in on the action, but he wanted to give her some more foreplay first and sat up so he could hold her in his lap.
"What're you doing?" she asked teasingly, touching his cheek.
He answered that question by lowering his face to her cleavage and pressing a big, hungry kiss there. God, he missed playing with her tits, missed getting to suck on them and roll her nipples between his fingers. But he understood why she wanted to limit the amount of time he spent them, what with them being Avery's food source and all. Still, he couldn't—and in fact wouldn't—ignore them completely, so he reached behind her back to deftly unhook her bra. When he moved his head back, she was able to shimmy right out of the last piece of clothing that was in their way. He cupped both her breasts in his hands, just wanting to feel the weight of them for a moment, even though he couldn't lavish attention on them. She let him, and she didn't object, either, when he pulled her in so tightly to make out with her that their chests just plastered together. That contact was enough to sustain him, because he could feel how hard and pebbled her nipples were. Someday, when Avery was done breastfeeding, he was going to make Clarke cum just by working on her boobs. Of course, though, if he had his way, she'd probably be pregnant again by then, so . . .
"B-Bellamy," she stammered against his lips, her voice full of a quiet urgency. "I need you."
I need you, too, he thought, kissing his way down her cheek to her neck. He'd always needed her. Even when he'd been across the country, or across the whole fucking ocean in another country, he'd needed her. That was why he'd come back.
Putting his hands under her ass, he lifted her up a bit, helping her to get situated in the perfect spot to sit down on his cock. She reached down to hold it steady and position it right at her entrance, and it took all his willpower to keep from slamming his hips up into her to just fuck her wild. Instead, he helped her sink down onto him, watching as her eyes closed and her face contorted in pleasure. She made a few sounds that drove him wild, and once again, he had to fight to keep his hips still. It was important now more than ever that he make sure she was comfortable and ready to go before he actually started . . . going.
She draped her arms over his shoulders, leaning forward so that she could rest the side of her head against his, and he just grazed his hands up and down her back, gently tracing her spine as he waited for his cue to continue. He received it in the form of some hip movement. She moved her hips in just enough of a circular motion to indicate that she was ready for him to thrust, so he began pushing up into her experimentally, testing out how deep he could go and how deep she wanted him. This particular position, as much as he loved it, didn't allow for the most movement, so his thrusts were more slow and sensual.
Clarke seemed to like it. She clenched and quivered around him, each time pulling him deeper. He wasn't sure how much space was even left between them, but it couldn't have been much. It seemed like every bit of heat coming off of her body just flowed right into him, and he was more than willing to absorb it. Especially since he was giving it all right back to her. Working up a sweat with Clarke was nothing new. In fact, the only time it didn't seem to happen was when they were doing it in the shower with some colder water pouring down atop them.
"Mmm," she moaned melodically into his ear. Even during sex, she had a pretty voice.
Did she want more? Did she want him to lie back so she could ride him, or flip them over so he could fuck her? He wasn't sure, so keeping his arms tightly wrapped around her, careful to keep them connected, he lay down on his side with her. When he shifted around a bit, he almost slipped out of her, which made her whimper with disappointment.
"Don't worry," he said, smiling, getting a kick out of how much she enjoyed this. "I got it." He put one hand under her leg and lifted it up a bit, causing her to spread open for him more. He pushed in deeper, trying to bury as much of his cock in her as he could. This wasn't their most utilized position, but it was nice being able to just lie there with her, face to face, and fuck her slowly. When her hair fell onto her cheek, he brushed it aside for her, and when her lips started to tremble and whisper nonsense, he quieted her with a kiss.
She ended up cumming without him even having to reach down and rub her clit. He wasn't sure what got her off—it wasn't like he'd changed his pace or started touching her. Maybe it'd just built up and exploded in her. All the way through her. Everything about her tightened. Her pussy tightened on his cock, and her arms and legs wrapped tighter around him. She squeezed him all over as she rode out her orgasm, and it didn't take much else to spur his own. He thrust up into her a few more times just as she was coming down from it, then closed his eyes and let himself go, too. His orgasm was quicker than hers, but he still felt pretty spent afterward, like he couldn't move even if someone had paid him. But that was okay. He didn't wanna move a muscle, not when he could hold her like this.
