Chapter 82

In contrast to the day before, Clarke awoke and felt a warm body beside her. Bellamy's warm body, lying on his side and facing her. He was snoring lightly, so she rubbed her legs and feet against his to ease him in to waking up. Only five minutes before the alarm went off. Not bad.

"Hey," he said when he opened his eyes.

"Hey." God, he was so cute with his messy bed-head and sleepy smile.

"How's my wife?" he asked.

"Good. Happy." Like him, she was really eager to use his new relationship title as much as she could, so she returned his question with one of her own: "How's my husband?"

Draping one arm over her hips, he pulled her closer and said, "I'm happy, too." Then he kissed her, the soft, sweet good-morning type of kiss. The kind that could quickly escalate into something more if they allowed it to.

"No, we have to get up," she said, pushing gently against his chest.

"Why?" he protested.

"Because we have a flight to catch." As much as she would have loved to start off their day with a little newlywed sex, they had to get up.

"Oh, right, our honeymoon," he said. "We'll continue this later then."

"Yes, we will." She gave him another quick peck on the lips, but that turned into a couple more kisses, and before she knew it, she was laughing as they both struggled to stop.

It didn't fully sink in for Clarke that they were leaving on vacation until they got to the airport. They had to check most of their bags, except for Avery's baby bag, and then they had to stand in a security checkpoint line that seemed like it extended for a mile. Clarke held the baby bag while Bellamy held the baby, and Raven held all their plane tickets while Murphy stood around and complained how his feet were hurting from standing so long.

"We probably should've gotten here sooner," Raven admitted as they slowly shuffled forward in the line.

"Well, we would've," Murphy said, "if Bellamy hadn't been driving like a grandpa."

"I had precious cargo," Bellamy said, patting Avery's back as she slept against his shoulder.

"So? That doesn't mean you gotta turn into an elderly man behind the wheel."

Clarke shook her head, totally getting where Bellamy was coming from with his newfound self-imposed ten-miles-below-the-speed-limit rule. "He doesn't understand," she said.

"Nope." Bellamy kissed the top of Avery's head, earning him a little, "Aww," from Raven and a snort from Murphy.

When they finally got up to the front of the line, Clarke sent the baby bag through the scanner with no problems. She, Raven, and Murphy were all able to go through without issue, too, but when Bellamy stood in the scanner with Avery, it went off.

"Come with me," one of the workers said, motioning for him to follow her.

"I don't have anything on me," he insisted.

"Just come with me."

Looking frustrated, he handed Avery off to Clarke and followed the woman into a small alcove where she proceeded to . . . frisk him. Thoroughly. Told him to hold out his arms and spread his legs, and she moved her security scanner all over. It buzzed loudly, alerting to something around one of his pockets, and he had to empty them for her.

When he was cleared, he walked back over to them with an utterly pissed off look on his face. "Gum wrapper," he explained, his face drawn tight.

Murphy, of course, had to get a jab in, so he said, "The first sex Bellamy had on his honeymoon was with a TSA agent."

Clarke had to stifle a laugh. Poor guy. Later on, though, when they were having actual sex, he'd forget all about this.

They arrived at their gate with half an hour to spare, and in that half hour, Clarke just sat there looking at planes outside the window, starting to get scared. Even though everyone always said planes were safer than cars, suddenly all she could think about was every plane crash that had ever been on the news. Or every flight that had strangely vanished. Was she crazy for taking her six week-old baby all the way to California? As if to assure her that she wasn't, Avery woke up while they were waiting and smiled at her. She took her into the nearest bathroom to change her diaper prior to boarding the plane, and she said some prayers that everything went well on the flight. Traveling with a baby was so much more stressful than just traveling with other adults.

When they got on the plane, she was relieved to see that their seats were . . . decent. Right near the window, just a little in front of the wing.

"Do you see these looks we're getting?" Bellamy asked her quietly as they squeezed into their row.

"What looks?" she asked.

"Like, 'Oh, there's a baby. She's gonna cry during the whole flight. That's gonna be annoying.'"

"Oh, who cares?" She was a little concerned about that herself, because she didn't know how Avery was going to react to the change in air pressure. She'd packed some little baby earplugs for her, though, to help deal with that.

"You want the window seat?" Bellamy asked her.

"Yeah, just in case I gotta give her a boob to suck on." She stashed the baby bag under the seat in front of her and sat down, opening the window shade to let some light in.

"And if anyone has any problems with that . . ." He trailed off and sat down, still holding Avery.

"Don't worry, I know my rights." If she had to feed Avery on the plane, then she'd feed her on the plane. She had a blanket to cover up with, and even if she didn't cover up, it wasn't anything anyone had the right to make a big deal out of. "Where are Raven and Murphy?" she asked, trying to get a better look up front.

"Just a couple rows behind first class," Bellamy answered.

"Huh." It would have been nice to be able to sit near them, but considering how late they'd purchased these tickets, they were lucky to get seats on the plane at all. "Well, at least we're not way in the back," she said. "All that turbulence wouldn't be good for her."

Bellamy smirked and said, "There's only one good kind of turbulence on an airplane."

She laughed. "What, like the Mile High Club?"

"Yeah."

She glanced back where the cramped bathrooms were, trying to picture Bellamy even squeezing into one of those. "And are you a member of that club?" she questioned, even though she already figured he was.

"It was a long flight to Europe, alright?" he said.

"Oh my god." She wasn't even surprised.

"I can make you a member if you want," he offered.

"No. I'm not letting Avery out of my sight when we're up in the air. In fact, give her here." She held out her hands, and he handed their daughter over. "I wanna put those earplugs in." She took the small box out of her pocket, opened it up, and let the instructions page fall to the floor, because she didn't need instructions. It was obvious how the plugs fit in, so she just went ahead and inserted them. Avery didn't seem to like the feeling at first, because she started to cry a little, but luckily Bellamy was there to save the day when he reached down and seized the purple bunny toy out of her bag. She got distracted by that, trying to reach out and grab it, even though she couldn't hold onto things yet. He jiggled it around in front of her and made a couple silly sounds, and that calmed her down. Crisis averted.

"Can you believe we're honeymooning with a baby?" he said.

"Kind of. I mean, we've never done things in the right order," she pointed out. "We had sex before we went on our first date."

"True." Leaning close, he lowered his voice and said, "Speaking of sex . . ."

"Just how horny are you?"

"So horny." He brought his mouth close to her ear and whispered in that deep voice of his, "I can't wait to fuck you so hard tonight."

She had to shut her eyes for a moment as a pleasurable tingle zipped up her entire body. God, she would have loved to join the Mile High Club with him. Regardless of how tiny and gross those bathrooms had to be, she was feeling the same insatiable urges he was. But parental stuff had to come first, and they both knew that.

Once it was time for takeoff, Clarke's stomach was rumbling with worry. Bellamy held her hand, though, and before she knew it, they were up in the air with no problem whatsoever. Once up there, the whole plane ride was pretty smooth. The earplugs must have worked wonders, because Avery didn't cause any commotion. She sat on Clarke's lap for a while and looked out the window, but she mostly sat on Bellamy's and slept. Everyone around them seemed really impressed by her behavior, with one woman even remarking, "That is one good baby you got there."

"The best," Clarke agreed, reaching over to rub her daughter's soft little head. Hopefully she'd remain this agreeable throughout the whole honeymoon.

...

Although he'd never had a problem with airplanes before, Bellamy was so relieved once they touched down in California. Traveling with an infant, even one as well-behaved as his, was stressful. That whole flight, he'd been so worried that those earplugs would stop working their wonders, and she'd start crying and being in pain way up there in the air. But she'd rested the majority of the way there, and when they got off the plane, her eyes opened up wide to take in the business of LAX. So many people, all of them going somewhere. Luckily, it wouldn't take them long to get to their destination, Long Beach. A half an hour in an Uber. No big deal.

California was nothing new to him. After all, he'd lived out there for a while once he'd dropped out of UCF. But he'd been so busy scraping by, trying to make ends meet as a waiter, that he hadn't really gotten to appreciate the state from a vacationer's perspective. But now that he was just there to relax and have a good time, everything looked different. Brighter. More vibrant. As they cruised down the highway, he pointed out the palm trees to Clarke, who had never been out to the west coast before. She looked so happy to be there.

Bellamy had no idea what hotel they were even staying in. Raven and Murphy had taken care of all the purchases for them and wanted it to be a surprise. Every time they passed by a Super 8 or Motel 6 or Days Inn, he crossed his fingers and inwardly prayed that that wasn't where they'd be staying. During his first few weeks in California, he'd practically lived in a run-down Motel 6, and he had no desire to ever stay in one again. Thankfully, they drove right past all of those and ended up somewhere much nicer, a Marriott hotel. There were people at the door to greet them who took their luggage and brought it inside for them.

"Alright. So far I'm liking California," Clarke declared. "Nice weather. Nice vibe. Nice hotel."

"Yeah. Really nice hotel," he agreed, hoisting Avery's carrier out of the Uber. Leaning in, he spoke quietly into her ear when he added, "Good thing, too, 'cause we're barely gonna leave."

"We're gonna do stuff," she insisted.

"Yeah." He smirked. "Each other."

She blushed, not exactly denying that.

After getting checked in and bringing their bags up to their rooms, they went back downstairs to have lunch at the hotel's restaurant. It was overpriced, of course, but after only getting pretzels on the airplane, it hit the spot. Bellamy felt fueled up with some food in his system, ready for . . . certain honeymoon activities.

Of course, having Avery there made things a little tougher. Originally, this had just been Murphy and Raven's summer vacation, and he wanted them to have time to enjoy themselves, too. So while they headed down to the pool, he and Clarke went up to their room and did parental duties. Diaper-changing. Playtime. Feeding. The usual. They had a couch in their room, so they made out there for a while, and even though Bellamy wasn't opposed to doing it with Avery in the room, Clarke was vehemently against it. No sex until Murphy and Raven were taking care of the baby. That was her rule, so he had to follow it.

Murphy and Raven didn't get back from that damn pool until late afternoon. Once they did, though, they took Avery to their room, along with her portable crib and some toys and her whole baby bag. Clarke made sure to quiz them on what to do if she started choking, or wheezing, or crying, or basically doing anything out of the ordinary, but Bellamy trusted their friends. So he dragged Clarke back down to the end of the hall, where their room was located, and started taking her clothes off before they'd even made it through the door.

Once they started having sex, they didn't stop for . . . a while. He would have loved to see how long they could keep going at it, but he knew they had a few hours, max. So they had to make the most of it. He really tried to use every bit of time they had, so in between fucks, while he was recovering and getting hard again, he teased her by kissing her neck or her stomach, or touching her pussy. His goal was for her to stay constantly turned on.

Unfortunately, packing so much sex into a short amount of time left him feeling . . . pretty tired. Not so tired that he had to stop, but just tired enough to need some more fuel in the metaphorical tank. He didn't want to go back down to the restaurant, though, nor did he even want to leave the room and go get something out of the vending machine at the other end of the hall, so he ordered room service instead. Just a huge piece of chocolate cake. He figured the sugar rush would keep him going.

Clarke had to go get the door when the room service guy came by, because he was busy stroking his cock to get it hard again. It was fun to see her legs shake as she got out of bed and threw on the bathrobe the hotel had provided, and even more fun to watch her stagger to the door. She had to stagger back, too, to get some cash, since it was customary to tip. He was definitely giving her a good workout, and it was funny to watch her feel the after effects of everything he was giving her.

When she came back to the bed with his chocolate cake in hand, he stopped what he was doing beneath the covers to take it from her and dig right in. "You sure you don't want some?" he asked her.

"No, I'm good," she said. "You've been feeding me really well."

He smirked, still on a high from the two blow-jobs she'd given him. Damn, his girl knew how to suck him off so well.

"It's really nice of Raven and Murphy to spend some of their vacation playing babysitter," she said, discarding the bathrobe again. "We should probably go get her in about an hour, don't you think?"

"Sure." That gave him enough time to get her into the shower and do her there, too. It wasn't actually as nice or spacious as their shower back home, but it would do.

Settling back in beside him underneath the covers, Clarke reached over and swiped a dollop of frosting off his cake, licking it off her finger. "I bet Avery's playing with her purple bunny right now," she said. "She loves that thing."

"What do you bet Murphy's playing with her?" he said.

"You don't think he's out and about filming?"

"Nah, he loves that purple bunny, too." Bellamy took as big of a bite as he could, eager to get that sugar in his system so he could . . . perform energetically again.

"Did you ever watch his film about us?" Clarke asked him suddenly.

"You mean Constant?" He shook his head. "No, not the whole thing. Did you?"

"No, not yet," she replied. "We should watch it together sometime."

"Sure." He set what remained of the cake aside on the end table and curled his arms around her. "Not right now, though. 'cause . . . there's other stuff we need to do." He grinned, lowering his lips to hers, and kissed her hungrily, enjoying the taste of her lips more than he had the taste of his dessert. "You wanna go again, right?" he asked.

"Yeah." She coiled her legs around him, managing to pull him on top of her, and kissed him a few more times before saying in one rush of breath, "I want you to go down on me."

He leaned back, giving her a curious look, no longer used to hearing her ask for that. "How far down?"

She smiled. "You know how far."

His cock twitched, even though it wasn't going to get in on the action. Just the thought of it, though, made his mouth water. "You sure?" he asked, trying not to jump the gun. "'cause I don't wanna rush you if you're still feeling . . ."

"Bellamy!" she growled impatiently.

"Okay, I'm goin'." He slithered on down the bed, getting himself positioned with his face between her legs. She spread them open, hesitantly at first, and then with less embarrassment, and lifted her hips up as if to indicate she wanted something underneath them. He reached over and grabbed a pillow that had almost fallen off the bad and put it underneath her ass, elevating her pussy to the perfect height for him to just . . . go right in on her.

"Do it," she encouraged him.

After months of not doing this, he didn't need any more convincing. Finally, finally, Clarke was letting him eat her out again after a whole lot of insecurity about him getting up close and personal down there post-birth. He didn't care about that, though. Yeah, he'd seen a baby come out of there. So what? It still looked the same to him, and he was sure it'd taste as good as ever.

He started out slow, just giving her a few light, tender kisses on her lower lips to see how she responded. It made her quiver and tense up a bit, but she quickly relaxed again and moaned happily. So his next kiss was more forceful, more passionate. The kind that smeared her fluids—remnants of the three orgasms he'd already given her—all over his face. He kissed her loudly, making all sorts of smacking noises, and inhaled the intoxicating scent of her, hoping she could sense by his fervor just how much he loved doing this.

Ultimately, the need to taste her was just too great to hold off on for too long, so his tongue didn't stay inside his mouth for long. He stated out just by letting it dart out to poke at her entrance, but when he started licking her up and down with long, flat strokes, that was when she moaned and gripped the bedsheets tighter.

"Yeah," she whispered, inhaling sharply when he licked all the way up to her clit. He teased the small bundle of nerves before repeating the same motion all over again. He made sure that she could feel his facial hair rubbing against her with every move his head made, because he knew she loved that feeling.

"Oh, Bellamy."

God, he never got tired of hearing her say his name, all breathless and overcome with passion like that. If his face wasn't buried in her pussy, he might have said something, too, but instead, he just breathed hotly onto her before switching it up and going back to more of a pointed tongue technique. He found her opening and tried to shove it in as far as it would go, so he could taste her as fully as possible. The sounds it made were so . . . fucking filthy. And he loved it.

Usually, Clarke liked to just lie there and let him get her off, but maybe because he hadn't gone down on her for such a long time now, she seemed to know exactly what she wanted and needed to get off; because she tangled one hand in his hair, holding his head in place, and started to grind herself down against his mouth, rolling her hips towards his face, swirling her pussy all around his tongue. He kept his tongue out to give her that stimulation she sought, but other than that, he didn't do much. She took control, basically fucking his face, whimpering desperately as she got closer and closer to losing it.

Do it, Clarke. He wanted to encourage her, but since he couldn't say anything, he just thought it.

She pressed her hips to his mouth hard when she came, raising them completely off the pillow, and he drank her down, careful not to spill a drop. She was like a drug to him. He wanted more even when it was all gone.

When she put her hips back down on the pillow, she also removed her hand from his hair and just sprawled out as she came back down from her orgasm. "Oh my god," she said, smiling dazedly, eyes shut.

He loved seeing her like this, knowing he was the one to satisfy her. And he appreciated that, even though she looked like she could just fall right asleep now, she'd still get up and get in that shower with him.

As he climbed back up her body, dragging his lips across her skin, she wrapped her legs around him and cupped his face in both of her hands. "Mmm," she murmured before kissing him, "you're such a good husband."

Good, he thought as he kissed her back. That was what he wanted to be.

...

Bellamy practically held his breath as Gina looked through his essay for him. She made some marks with her red pen, but just punctuation and capitalization and all that shit. It didn't look like anything major. But he didn't want to get his hopes up and let himself believe that he'd nailed this essay on his first attempt. Because that had never happened before.

"Hmm," she said, a contemplative look on her face as she set his paper down. "Not bad, Bellamy. Not bad."

"Really?" He hoped that meant he didn't have to rewrite anything, because writing it once was already more than enough.

"Yeah. I mean, you've got some spelling and grammar stuff to fix up, but I marked everything I saw," she said. "Your ideas are good, though. And it's pretty decently-organized, so you're getting your point across. I'm impressed."

He wasn't used to impressing anyone academically, so he wasn't even sure how to react. "I worked on it all last night," he told her. "Finished up a couple hours before practice this morning."

"No wonder you look so tired then," she said. "Not that you look bad, though. You don't look bad." She got quiet when she said that last part and even looked away for a second. But she didn't have to be embarrassed. Harmless flirting was . . . well, harmless. They were friends.

"Did you end up going to the game?" he asked her.

"No, I couldn't. I watched it on TV, though."

He kind of wished his mom and Octavia had just stayed home and done that same thing. He couldn't help but feel like they'd wasted their time and money flying down there to watch him do nothing. They'd made a whole weekend out of it, of course, spent some time together, but the game had been pointless for them to attend, because even though they'd won, they'd never gotten far enough ahead for Coach Lightbourne to consider putting him and some of the other backups in. "I just stood on the sideline the whole time," he lamented. "I'm not used to that."

"Don't worry, you'll get your chance to play," she assured him. "You're a good player. And unlike our current quarterback, you're also a good guy."

As much as he appreciated the compliment, he wasn't sure how much he believed it. Sure, he was better than Brady because he didn't treat girls like trash and was determined to actually earn his way through college. But ever since he'd gotten to Florida and started this whole new chapter of his life . . . he couldn't explain why, but he just hadn't felt very good at all.

...

It was easy to just get lost in Clarke's beautiful blue eyes, to look at her and feel like he couldn't look away. Bellamy didn't realize he was doing that, however, until she laughed a little and said, "What?"

"I just . . ." He wasn't used to being at a loss for words, but lying there in bed with her, even though the bed wasn't their own . . . he just felt so damn close to her, and he wanted it to always feel this way. "I meant what I said in my vows about being the best husband I can be," he said to her. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah," she said, rubbing his arms. "I know. And guess what?" She lifted her head up, pressed a kiss to his ear, and whispered, "You're off to a good start."

He smiled. Yeah, he was, wasn't he? It felt good to be her husband and to have her as his wife. It felt good to be on this honeymoon with her right now, because it just felt so damn good to finally be married. There had never been anyone else for him but Clarke Griffin. She was definitely the one.