AN: Second update this week, I made it at least once! And it's finally time for Italy! I haven't been to Venice myself, even if I would love to go, so again a lot of Google Maps ;)

I don't own anything relating to The 100

See the end of the chapter for warnings

Chapter title from "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper

32

Secrets Stolen from Deep Inside

The subdued mood lingers on Friday morning, but by the time their connecting flight from Warsaw starts its descent into the Marco Polo airport in Venice, Bellamy can no longer keep the smile off his face, despite the fact that it's already dark out and they can't really see anything. Clarke doesn't even try.

"I can't believe we're in Italy!" he exclaims as soon as they've touched down. "I mean, I knew we were going here, so on a logical level I can, but just… it's so surreal."

She can't help but laugh at his childish excitement. "Are you going to get even worse once we're actually in Rome, or is this a general Italy enthusiasm? Just so I know what to expect."

He rolls his eyes at her and practically jumps out of his seat as soon as the 'fasten your seatbelt' sign comes off – not before.

Their hotel is by the San Marco Basin, just a few blocks from St Mark's Square, which means they have to change from a cab to a water taxi at Piazzale Roma. Which is all part of the Venice experience, but Bellamy looks a little hesitant as they approach the little boat.

"Don't tell me you get seasick?" Clarke half-teases, and he shrugs.

"I'm not sure, really, I haven't been on a lot of boats."

"The whale watching boat in Iceland was fine," she notes.

He raises his eyebrows at that. "And a lot bigger than this one."

OK, that's true.

"You'll be fine, the canals are pretty sheltered, it doesn't get too rough," she assures him as she lets the captain help her onboard, switching to Italian and asking him to take it a little slow as her boyfriend isn't used to boats. He chuckles a little at her request but promises to do his best.

"You speak Italian too?" Bellamy asks once they're settled in the boat and the captain is starting the engine.

He hadn't seemed that surprised that she spoke French, but she did use to live there, so it probably makes more sense than Italian.

"I'm not fluent or anything, but I can get by," she tells him.

"So French and Italian… any others?"

He's probably trying to distract himself from the way the water slaps against the side of the boat, but Clarke doesn't mind helping him with that.

"Well, English, obviously," she starts, and he pinches her side. "Ow, stop it. Um… Swedish, I figured it would be good to know while I was stationed there."

"But you've never been stationed in Italy, right?"

She shakes her head. "No, I've been here on holiday, but never stationed here. Italian sort of came naturally from Spanish, in a way. Raven taught me that way back, which was the starting point of my interest in languages, I guess."

"Well, you certainly have the time to learn any language you want," he notes drily, and gets a light elbow in the ribs in return.

"Anyway, so English, French, Spanish and Swedish I speak fine, my Swedish is a little rusty since I don't use it much," she continues. "Then my level of Italian and Portuguese I would say is 'get by without having to resort to sign language', and I basically understand but don't really speak Russian, Japanese and German. And I've been thinking about learning Mandarin, but it seems really hard." Bellamy's openly staring at her when she finishes. "What?"

He lets out a huff of a laugh and pulls her closer. "You're just amazing, you know that?"

"Well, obviously. But like you said, I do have a lot of time to pretty much do what I want, and these days it's really easy with all the apps and stuff," she says with a shrug.

"Still amazing."

She leans into his side and lets out a long breath. "You're pretty amazing too."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," he replies, his lips brushing her hair briefly.

She nuzzles against his throat and squeezes his thigh. "I was hoping it might."

His arm slips around her, underneath her jacket, and his thumb brushes her ribcage just below her breast, making her entire body tingle in anticipation.

Still, by the time they've checked in, grabbed a late dinner and made it back to their room, they both collapse into bed. Bellamy has enough energy left to pull her to him, her back to his front, but after that, they're both asleep within minutes.

-100-

It's been a couple of decades since Clarke was in Venice last, and they spend their first day in the city getting acquainted – Bellamy – and reacquainted – Clarke – with it.

The sky is a little cloudy when they leave the hotel the first morning, but the temperature's in the mid-fifties, so it's still nice out. There are already tourists out and about, and little stands set up along the water, selling everything from hats and Venetian masks to gelato. All along the quay, water taxis and gondolas are lined up, waiting for their next passengers.

They pause on Ponte della Paglia, like everyone else, to take some photos of Ponte dei Suspiri, the Bridge of Sighs, before continuing towards the impressive Doge's Palace. After passing the beautiful building, they get a glimpse of Piazza San Marco and its campanile, but continue along the lagoon – they have tickets to the basilica on Monday, so they'll be back.

They pass Giardini Riali, but soon after have to turn away from the canal, since they can't get any further. Instead, they start weaving their way through the winding streets, turning at random, passing designer boutiques and souvenir shops and stores selling the local Murano glass, crossing a bridge and then another. Every single street, even the ones so narrow even Clarke can touch the buildings on either side if she stretches her arms out, is lined with shops. It's a little dizzying, almost. Finally, Bellamy stops in the middle of a small square.

"Do you have any idea where we are?" he asks, looking around them.

Clarke glances at the tall, white building in front of them with columns marking the entrance. "Well, that's Teatro la Fenice, so I have a general idea."

"So where do we go from here?"

She shrugs. "I guess that depends on where we want to go. We didn't really have a goal in mind when we set out, you know."

"True," he agrees, frowning. "I don't know… Rialto Bridge? That's, like, a big tourist spot, right?"

She gives him an amused look. "That's what you've got?"

"Shut up," Bellamy grumbles with an eye roll. "But if you want to keep wandering around aimlessly, fine by me."

"No," she tells him, looping her arm with his and tugging him along towards one of the streets leading off the little square. "The Rialto Bridge is on the Grand Canal, pretty much straight north from St Mark's Place, so it should be more or less this way."

They take a couple of wrong turns, end up on a passage that leads to a wooden dock jutting out into the canal and have to turn back the way they came, but eventually, they find their way to Riva del Carbon with the iconic bridge in the distance.

The street is lined with restaurants on one side, the water on the other, colorful boats of all shapes and sizes bobbing on the small waves cast from the water taxis and gondolas passing by.

They do the normal tourist stuff – even snapping a silly selfie of the two of them with the bridge in the distance – before crossing on one of the two covered walkways.

There aren't quite as many tourists in this part of Venice, San Polo, but the streets are still bustling. It's closing in on noon, and the trattorias and cafés are starting to prepare for the lunch rush, signs with today's specials going up outside the doors, awnings being rolled out against the sun that has finally broken through the clouds.

"So, what's your first impression of Venice?" Clarke asks as they stroll along, away from the Grand Canal and further into the jumble of streets lined by colorful buildings with wooden shutters and cute little balconies. "I know this was one of my things, and there aren't that many historical sights, but it's still a beautiful and unique city."

"I love it," Bellamy assures her, squeezing her hand. "Are you kidding? Experiencing one of the most romantic cities in the world with you, that's… it's amazing."

"Are you saying Venice trumps Paris in the romance department?" she asks, giving him a questioning glance.

"I think it might," he replies with a chuckle. "I mean, we haven't even taken a ride in one of those gondola things yet, that's bound to up the romance level, right?"

She can't help but laugh at that. "What I'm hearing is that we should take one of those gondola rides. You sure your potential sea sickness will be OK with that?"

"Key word being 'potential'," he points out amusedly. "But even if I do get seasick, I think I'll be OK – like you said yesterday, it's not like the water's very rough in these canals."

She had secretly been hoping he might say that – she's never taken a gondola ride before, and even though it's a little corny and completely tourist-y, she kind of wants to do it with Bellamy anyway.

"Good. There are gondola stations all over the place, and it's not really peak season, so we should be able to grab one without a problem."

"Sounds good," he agrees easily as they emerge into an open square. "So are we back to wandering aimlessly, or do you have a specific goal in mind?"

It's clear that they're getting further and further from the tourist areas, some of the buildings around the square appear to be abandoned, or at least not very well taken care of, and there's scaffolding in front of one of them.

"Wandering aimlessly," Clarke admits. "I mean, there are plenty of nice little squares and churches around here, all over the city, but I don't have anything specific in mind, really."

"Wandering aimlessly sounds good," he assures her with a squeeze of her hand. "Maybe look for a nice place to grab some lunch soon?"

At Bellamy's words, her stomach grumbles a little, making them both laugh. "Sounds like a plan."

It takes another hour and a half, two bridges, a quick tour of a beautiful church with amazing paintings by Titian and a breathtaking view of the city from the top of the bell tower, as well as countless twists and turns before they settle in at a little trattoria overlooking yet another cute little square with a church.

"OK, so at some point, you have to try Italian pizza," Clarke says, scrutinizing the options on the menu. "It's just amazing. But so is the pasta, of course… oh, and risotto, when it's cooked right, is so good…"

He chuckles a little. "Well, we have, like, two weeks total in Italy, right? I'm pretty sure we'll have time to try everything."

"And the gelato." She's sure the expression on her face turns dreamy at the mere thought. "Though maybe wait until we get to Rome, hopefully the weather will be a little warmer there. There used to be this little place near Fontana di Trevi that had the best gelato in Rome, but it's been a while since I was there."

The smile on Bellamy's face when she looks up from her menu is both amused and a little teasing. "Sounds like a plan, Princess."

They put in their orders and the food arrives quickly, considering it's still the middle of the lunch rush. Within an hour, the waitress is bringing their check and Clarke takes the opportunity to enquire after a gondola stop.

"There's a gondola stop just a few minutes from here," she relates once they've left the restaurant. "Do you want to continue strolling around a little longer, or head straight there?"

Bellamy considers for a moment. "Either's fine with me," he eventually says. "I don't mind walking for a while longer, if that's what you want, but it's up to you."

There's nothing that they need to do today, they've hit pretty much all the interesting spots in this part of the city, and she's starting to feel the effects of the maybe a tad too heavy pasta she ended up ordering, her eyelids drooping slightly.

"Maybe the gondola," she decides. "Relax at the hotel for a couple of hours before we try that restaurant the receptionist recommended when we checked in last night."

"Lead the way."

They find the gondola station without a problem, and Clarke manages to talk the gondolier into a private and slightly longer tour than usual, to cover all the sights they want to see. He doesn't offer any guide services, but she's familiar enough with the city she can handle that part.

Once they're out in the middle of the canal, she scoots over on the little bench they're seated on. "You OK?"

Bellamy wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her closer. "Not feeling any hints of sea sickness, so you can stop worrying."

"OK, good."

"This really is something else," he mumbles after a moment, eyes darting between the buildings on either side of the water. "I can't imagine living in a place like this."

"No, it's definitely a special place," she agrees.

"I mean, the houses actually have entrances where you literally jump out of a boat and onto their stoop."

She can't help but laugh, not at his words but at the amazed look on his face, and he gives her a slightly sheepish smile.

"So this is Canal Grande," she then explains, nodding ahead of them. "It's the main canal in the city, hence the name – the Grand Canal. Most buildings along here used to belong to the rich families of the city, which is pretty obvious."

They're just passing the beautiful Palazzo Grassi on their left and another old palazzo, Ca' Rezzonico, on the right, two good examples of the wealth of the canal's old neighbors.

"Yeah, no kidding."

They float along in silence for a while, until a beautiful, seemingly wooden bridge, comes into view.

"That's Ponte dell'Accademia," Clarke notes, pointing ahead. "On that side of the canal is Gallerie dell'Accademia, an art gallery with Venetian paintings up until the 18th century. They have some amazing pieces…"

"Do you want to go?" he immediately asks. "I mean, I'm not completely sure where we are right now, but I'm pretty sure we're heading in the direction of St Mark's Square, right? So it can't be too far from our hotel."

"You're absolutely right, the square is further up on the left," she confirms. "We'll see about the museum, I've been before so it's not really a big deal, but maybe if we have time."

"OK. What are the big white cupolas up there? St Mark's Basilica?"

She looks where he's pointing. "No, that's another church, Santa Maria… something. It's on the other side of the canal from the square."

They pass the church in question, its ornate façade glittering in the sun that's almost warm by now, before leaving Canal Grande for the narrower Rio de san Moisè.

"We're not going back to the hotel?" Bellamy asks, looking over his shoulder.

"Not yet," she replies. "We're taking a bit of a detour."

"Nice."

They both duck, automatically, when they approach a low bridge.

"I think we walked here earlier, right?" he says when they emerge on the other side, looking at the small open space to their right. "I'm sure we passed a Versace store, at least."

"Did you want to do some shopping?" Clarke asks innocently and he rolls his eyes.

"I was just looking out for Victoria's Secret," he teases back. "You know, you did promise to pick something up for my birthday and it's less than a week away."

"God, you're obsessed," she replies, laughing. "I haven't forgotten, I promise."

"Good." He presses a kiss to her temple. "So this is the back of all the fancy buildings we saw walking, I guess. I've heard about the foundations of the buildings here dissolving, and you can really see it from here."

It's true – the bottom few inches of most of the buildings are discolored, and in places, the concrete or bricks look almost porous.

They pass under another two bridges before taking a right, onto another narrow canal, and soon after another right. After another bridge, they emerge into a larger, open area, where a bunch of other gondolas are moored.

"St Mark's Square is on the other side of those buildings," she says, pointing straight ahead. "I don't think we'll be able to see it from here, though."

They turn left, taking an even narrower canal that runs along the square. Clarke is really hoping they won't meet another boat, because there's no way it would fit. It feels like their gondola takes up most of the available space.

Luckily enough, they don't meet anyone, and a few turns and bridges later, they suddenly emerge into the open on Canal Grande again, the Rialto bridge off to their right.

"OK, that was a lot of twists and turns," Bellamy notes. "I honestly have no idea how we ended up here again."

"I know, I was completely lost in there too," she agrees. "But it should be pretty straight forward from now on, I think, we're just heading up the Grand Canal for a bit before turning back, there are a couple of buildings I want to show you. Then we're taking the back canals to the hotel."

"OK, sounds good. What did you want to show me?"

She shakes her head. "I'll tell you when we get there."

They glide under the Rialto Bridge, passing a vaporetto going in the other direction.

"See that building up there?" Clarke asks a few minutes later.

"Which one?"

"The cream one, with the boarded up windows."

"Oh, yeah."

"It's the oldest palazzo on the Grand Canal, maybe in Venice," she tells him. "Ca' da Mosto, it was built way back in the early thirteenth century."

"Seriously? Wow, that's eight hundred years."

"I know, amazing, right?"

"How come it's boarded up?"

She frowns. "I don't know… last time I was here, it wasn't, but that was a while ago. Maybe it's being restored, or something."

"It probably needs it, eight hundred years is a long time," Bellamy reasons. "Where's the other building you were talking about?"

"A bit further up." They sit in silence for a few minutes, until the building comes into view. "There it is, Ca' d'Oro. Isn't it beautiful?"

"The white one, with all the embellishments?" he asks. "Are those crosses on the roof?"

"I'm not sure, but yeah, that one. It's definitely my favorite building in the city."

"I can see why."

The gondolier takes the boat closer to the building, so they can really appreciate the colonnaded loggia and the many columns and arches, before turning back the way they came. He turns left before the Rialto Bridge, onto a canal that's almost hidden between buildings.

"This is nice," Bellamy says after another long moment of silence.

"Don't sound so surprised," she replies with a laugh. "You did suggest it."

"I mentioned it," he corrects her. "I mean, I did want to do it, but I thought it would probably be a little cheesy and really tourist-y. Which it is, I guess, but… I love getting to see all these different buildings and bridges. And sure, lots of other people do it, but it's still nice, getting this other perspective of the city. So what if it's tourist-y?"

"Exactly. We are tourists, after all."

He chuckles at that.

"Have we been in this area before?" he asks a few minutes later, as they pass under another bridge.

"Not really," Clarke replies. "Our hotel is in the Castello area, which is on our left, but we've been in the San Marco area so far, mostly the western parts. We did cross this canal this morning, St Mark's Square is on the right up here and we'll get to the Bridge of Sighs eventually, but that's it."

"OK, so we'll be coming out into the basin outside our hotel."

"Yup."

The gondolier comes to a stop as they approach the Bridge of Sighs, giving them the opportunity to snap some photos from this angle as well. When the gondola starts moving again, he calls out to them and Clarke rolls her eyes.

"What was that?" Bellamy asks.

"Just a stupid old legend," she replies, looking away from him and instead focusing on the water. "Something they tell tourists. If a couple kiss while they pass under the bridge, their love is supposed to last forever."

He's quiet for a moment, but then he places a finger under her chin, gently making her face him again.

"I'm not saying I believe that, but… why risk it?"

He leans in slowly, maybe expecting her to stop him – not that she ever could – and presses his lips to hers softly. She lets her eyes slide closed and sighs, and he immediately deepens the kiss.

They don't break apart until the gondolier starts clapping behind them – Clarke had almost forgotten they were still in the boat, if she's honest.

"There," Bellamy says, squeezing her hip. "Eternal love, check."

Neither of them say what they're probably both thinking – that eternal, in their case, is only a few more months,

Even if Clarke knows that she will love him long after he's gone.

-100-

They spend the next few hours just lounging around their room, Bellamy reading a pamphlet that he grabbed in the hotel lobby earlier – possibly trying to figure out what they're going to do on Lido tomorrow – and Clarke just dozing for a while, leaning back against him, before checking the news. Once she's confirmed that nothing good's happened, she uploads some photos from the day to Facebook, including their selfie with the Rialto Bridge, before scrolling through her feed. Just as she's about to close down the app, she gets a comment from Octavia on the selfie.

So cute! Tell Bell I say hi

"Your sister says hi," she dutifully reports.

He hums. "Is she home?"

She switches to her messenger app and sends the question to Octavia, getting an affirmative response back almost immediately. "Yup."

Bellamy shifts a little behind her, reaching for his phone on the bedside table, she realizes, so she sits up straight so she's not leaning on him. He pulls her back against his chest a moment later, leaving his arm around her waist as he, she assumes, opens Skype on his phone.

He and Octavia have been talking regularly in the month or so since they left Ireland, at least a couple of times a week. The first time he called, Clarke offered to give them some privacy, but he insisted that he would rather have her there, so she's been a witness to the siblings' relationship improving even more than it already had during their week in Dublin. The first call was still a little strained, at least on Bellamy's side – she obviously couldn't hear Octavia's – but even the second one was more relaxed, and by now, they're talking like they've never been out of touch, both teasing the other, pushing buttons they no doubt learned while growing up together.

"Hey, O," he now says, his voice rumbling in his chest and propagating to Clarke's back. "You having a good Saturday?"

She can just make out Octavia's voice over the line, if not the actual words.

"Yeah, it seems like a really nice place so far. Not as many tourists as I thought there might be, which is a relief. We've been exploring a bit, lots of walking, and then we took a gondola back to the hotel… yes, a gondola, one of those boats for tourists… shut up, so what if it's a cliché?"

Clarke chuckles quietly at the put out note that's made its way into his voice. "Is she teasing you?"

"Mm-hm. God, you're a brat, you know that?"

Octavia's laughter floats from the phone and Clarke has to smile, because she can see the big smile on Bellamy's face without even having to turn around.

They continue chatting and Clarke focuses on her Instagram feed, liking a few posts from Raven and Harper.

"Shit, O, you can't just say stuff like that!" Bellamy exclaims after a while, and she puts her phone away and half-turns to look at him. His eyebrows are raised and he's blushing a little. "Yes, I know you're twenty-five, that's beside the point… please stop talking, I don't need to know this… thank you."

Clarke gives him a questioning look but he just shakes his head slightly.

"Right, that's why you have to go," he then says, rolling his eyes. "Fine… yeah… love you to, O… OK, I'll talk to you later."

"Everything OK?" Clarke asks when he's hung up and put his phone away.

"Yeah, just Octavia being, well, Octavia," he tells her with a shrug, tugging her back down. She turns so she's leaning back against him again and his arms circle her waist.

She kind of really wants to know what Octavia said that made him blush, but she decides against asking. It's still new, this easy relationship with his sister, and she doesn't want to butt in too much.

"She sort of…" he starts after a moment, voice deep in her ear. "She pointed out that I was in Venice, in a presumably romantic hotel room, with my girlfriend, wasting time talking to my sister when I could be… doing other stuff."

His thumb grazes the bare sliver of skin between her jeans and t-shirt and Clarke feels a tingle of anticipation.

"Well… she's not wrong…"

He stills behind her for a moment, before his hand slips under her shirt completely, warm and rough against her skin. "Yeah?"

She likes the direction his fingers are taking along her ribcage, but she also wants to be an active participant in what's to come, so she moves to straddle him on the bed.

"We've been here, in this incredibly romantic city, for almost a full day now," she notes, undoing the top button in his shirt. "And neither of us have had an orgasm in that time."

Bellamy chuckles, sliding his hands up and down her thighs. "That is true. We really need to amend that."

"That's all I'm saying."

She finishes getting the last button undone and immediately leans in, pressing open mouthed kisses up his chest and neck until she finds his mouth. He tangles a hand in her hair and pulls her in to deepen the kiss, his other hand trailing up her back, under her shirt, and undoing her bra when he finds it.

Clarke breaks the kiss long enough to pull her shirt and bra off, recapturing his lips as soon as they're gone. He groans into the kiss, sliding his hand around from her back to cup her breast before squeezing, and she arches her back against his touch. When he twirls her nipple between his fingers, she can't help the whimper that escapes her, but he swallows it down.

The room is a little chilly – they cracked a window when they got back, to let some air in – and Bellamy's hands are large and warm, making the contrast on her skin all the more noticeable. He slides the one that was buried in her hair down her back, squeezing her butt before pulling her harder against him, and she can't stop the shiver running down her spine, whether from the cool air or the friction, she's not completely sure.

He seems to interpret it as the former, though, and pulls away from her. "Are you cold?"

"I'm fine," she assures him, taking the opportunity to push his shirt further off his shoulders and get working on his jeans.

"We can close the window," he offers, still frowning up at her slightly.

Clarke has absolutely no intention of getting out of this bed before getting off at least once. She slides her hand into his jeans, palming him through his boxers, and he grinds his teeth together.

"So not a priority right now," she breathes out before leaning in again. "Besides, I'm pretty sure we can warm each other up."

Her position's not the best, she has to bend her arm in a slightly uncomfortable way to be able to rub him slowly as their tongues battle, and maybe he realizes this too, because before she knows what's really happening, he's flipped them over so she's flat on her back and is looming above her.

"So…" he starts, leaning down to nip at her collar bone, "about those orgasms…"

"Uh-huh," she manages to get out before gasping when Bellamy circles her nipple with his tongue.

"Any preferences?"

She understands the words he's saying, but he switches his attention to her other breast and sucks her nipple into his mouth and really, she can't be expected to form any rational thoughts when he does that.

So instead of answering, she slides her hand into his hair and tries to keep him there. Not that he seems interested in moving at the moment.

He does abandon her breast after a long moment, continuing to kiss and lick his way down her stomach. Once he reaches her jeans, though, he leans his chin against her hip bone and looks up at her.

"What's it going to be, Princess?"

He at least sounds a little breathless himself.

"Huh?"

He tuts a little, like he's disappointed in her, but then tugs her jeans and underwear off, so she's not going to complain.

"What do you want?" he asks once he's settled between her legs again, placing a soft kiss on the inside of her thigh. "Hands? Mouth? Give me something to work with here."

At this point, she'll take anything, she just wants him to touch her, really touch her.

"Mouth," she decides, and he smiles like he's won the lottery or something before diving right in.

The first lap of his tongue has her hips jerking off the bed, and he places an arm over her stomach, holding her down, before repeating the motion.

It's not long before Clarke's panting and squirming against his hold, desperate for more, and just when she thinks she can't take it any longer, he shifts slightly, sliding two fingers deep inside her and focusing his mouth on her clit, and she's gone.

When she's come down enough to notice her surroundings again, Bellamy's working his way back up her stomach and then ribcage, mouth and tongue hot and wet against her skin. When he reaches her breasts, he pulls a nipple into his mouth at the same time as he grinds his hips against hers, and she realizes he must have gotten rid of his jeans and underwear at some point.

"Good?" he asks quietly before kissing her softly.

"Amazing," she replies honestly, wrapping an arm around his neck to pull him down and shifting her hips a little so he just needs to push forward to slide right into her. They both sigh when he bottoms out, eyes locked.

"Love you, Princess," he murmurs, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Love you too," she replies, bending her leg to get some purchase and pushing up against him. "Now move."

He chuckles at her request, but obeys, and Clarke lets out a moan when he thrusts into her again, harder than before. She in turn wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and is rewarded with a groan. She pulls him in for another kiss, this one messier, and digs her heels into his back, urging him on. Finally, he starts moving in earnest, pulling low whimpers from her with each thrust, and in minutes – or maybe hours, she honestly can't tell – she can tell that they're both close.

"Come on, Bell," she murmurs into his ear, squeezing her internal muscles around him. "Let go."

He buries his face against her throat, and she feels a ragged breath against her skin. Then he slips a hand between them, finding her clit easily. "Ladies first."

Another thrust and she's tumbling over the edge again, feeling him follow a moment later.

He collapses on top of her as they both struggle to catch their breaths, and she wraps both arms tightly around him.

"So, Venice sex," Bellamy says after a long moment, nosing at her chin. "Better than Paris sex?"

She can't help but laugh. "I think it's a tie."

Chapter warnings: explicit sexual content