A/N: I contemplated not mentioning this, but decided I needed to. I received what was probably my first really rude comment recently, and let me tell you...it bothered the shit out of me. Like it's not nerve-wracking enough to put myself out there by posting stuff I write, then I also have to worry about people posting comments they really don't need to be posting.
And that's the thing. You're free to stop reading at any time. If you don't like what I've written or where I'm taking the story, then absolutely, find something more to your liking. But you know what you don't need to do? Tell an author how they need to change a story to fit your needs. If you think your idea is better...then by all means...add to the Bellarke fic section yourself. (FYI: This was NOT directed at anyone who good-naturedly yells at me about the slow-burn. I LOVE those comments. Angst is supposed to make you angry, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )
So, after the longest Author's Note ever (sorry, y'all)...here it is. THE chapter.
Let me just go ahead and say...this chapter probably deserves more of an E rating, but I didn't want to change the rating for the whole fic based on the last two chapters. Just a bit of a heads up.
Clarke woke up reluctantly, not nearly rested enough, but knowing that something had roused her.
It only took her a minute to realize what it was; Bellamy was no longer lying next to her, and if the warmth of the sheets beside her was any indication, he'd just gotten up a few minutes ago.
She sat up in bed, blinking blearily as she looked around, trying to get her bearings. The room was dark, since it was clearly pitch-black outside, which had to mean she'd gotten at least a few hours of sleep.
The light was on in the living room, and she could just make out Bellamy's voice, but she couldn't tell what he was saying.
She waited a few minutes after he quit talking to call out, "Bellamy?"
In just a few seconds, he appeared in the doorway. "Shit, I didn't mean to wake you," he said contritely.
She shook her head. "It's okay. Were you on the phone?"
He nodded, walking into the room to stand beside the bed. "I wanted to order Panda Hut before they closed so you'd have something to eat whenever you woke up."
She tilted her head, a little overcome by how much he cared, although she really shouldn't be at this point.
They were just watching each other, until he finally slid a hand gently into the hair just behind her ear. "Go back to sleep, Clarke."
She bit her lip, leaning into his hand as she just stared at him, her mind whirling with possibility.
She wasn't sure what, but something seemed to have shifted between them.
She remembered how sweetly he'd kissed her before she'd fallen asleep, and now he was looking at her so softly, and with so much adoration, she just couldn't do it anymore.
She loved him.
She wanted him.
And she was done pretending she didn't.
She nuzzled her cheek into his hand, putting her hand over his. "Bellamy…" she said quietly. "Come back to bed."
He didn't really look surprised by her words, but he also didn't make any moves to comply with her suggestion.
That is, until she got up on her knees, moving closer to him, nodding at the unspoken question in his eyes.
He leaned down at the same time she rose up, and then their lips were meeting, softly at first, as if making sure this was what they both wanted, then a bit more frantically as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he crushed her torso against his.
Before she knew it, she was moving backward, and he forward, and then they were falling down onto the bed together, their bodies still pressed tightly against each other.
He caught himself on his hands, his upper body stopping just a few inches above hers, and they just stared at each other for a long moment, soaking in the moment, both seemingly awed that this was about to happen.
Without even really realizing she was doing it, her hands started moving in his hair, just sliding through the curls at the base of his neck, and suddenly they were kissing again, their tongues tangling as they held onto each other for dear life.
And it was somehow so so different from the other times they'd kissed.
All those other times, the kissing had felt like the main event.
Now, it felt like the precursor to something else…something even more earth-shattering.
His hand slid down her side, moving to grasp her hip when he stopped short, pulling back a fraction of an inch to look at her. "Are you…not wearing pants?" he practically croaked.
She couldn't help the wicked grin that came to her face, her gaze playful as she slowly shook her head.
He let out a noise that seemed to be part growl, his grip on her hip tightening almost painfully as his lips crashed into hers.
And then they were a flurry of activity, his hand skimming her side and the curve of her hip, her hands grasping at and caressing his shoulders and the back of his neck, their hips moving together rhythmically as if they just couldn't stop themselves.
She lost track of everything but his body over hers, the heat between them too delicious to ignore as the desire in her built and built.
Slowly, almost tentatively, his hand slid up her stomach, pausing a moment before he oh-so-gently brushed his thumb along the underside of her breast.
She couldn't resist the low whine that escaped her, but she retaliated by nipping his lower lip sharply, then soothing it with her tongue.
That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed, because he pressed his body into the cradle of her hips even more firmly as his hand moved up, his thumb just skimming over her nipple.
Just as Clarke began to shift, ready to wrap her legs around his waist…his phone rang from in his pocket.
It took them a minute to even hear it, and once they did, they both froze, lips still pressed firmly against each other's.
He moved away, and she couldn't help but chase his lips, although it was for naught as he flopped on his back beside her.
Everything seemed to stand still as she laid there, breath practically frozen as she heard him answer his phone and hang up a short minute later.
He turned to look at her, gaze a bit sheepish. "The delivery guy's downstairs."
She nodded, not really capable of much else at the moment.
He leaned over, pressing a kiss to her lips. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."
She just sighed, unhappy about being interrupted in the first place.
He leaned back toward her, and she was expecting another peck, which was why she was a little shocked when he swept his tongue into her mouth, his kiss full of hunger and passion and…promise.
"Please don't go anywhere," he repeated, this time getting out of bed and practically jogging toward the door.
She watched him until he disappeared, then flopped back on the bed, her eyes rolling toward the ceiling in frustration.
A chill that seemed to be both physical and mental started coming over her, the absence of the warmth of his body on top of hers sending a bit of a shockwave through her.
It only took a few minutes for her doubts to return to her one by one until they finally hit her full force.
Without him there, kissing her senseless, she suddenly remembered all the reasons she'd talked herself out of having sex with him the first 900 times it had crossed her mind.
Sex wasn't enough…not when she felt about him the way she did.
She knew she was flip-flopping faster than your average politician and she had no idea how she was going to explain her abrupt change of mind to Bellamy, but some self-preservation instinct was telling her she needed to leave. Now.
If she stayed, she knew exactly what would happen, and she could no longer convince herself that maybe he just hadn't admitted his feelings yet or that maybe he'd grow to see her as more than a friend someday.
She'd stayed with him through his mother's funeral.
She'd kissed him more times than she could count, in a way no one in their right mind would believe was platonic.
They'd been about 30 seconds away from the point of no return just a few minutes ago.
And he still hadn't said anything.
Tears came to her eyes as she admitted that he obviously never would.
She wasn't sure how she was going to do it, but she needed to distance herself from him.
Some of the remains of her prior exhaustion were lingering, combining with her thoughts of leaving Bellamy again, along with the unreleased sexual tension in her body, and it all produced a sense of panic that she couldn't really control.
She quickly got out of bed, her hands shaking as she slipped her scrub bottoms back on and pulled on her tennis shoes without bothering to find her socks.
She made her way quickly and clumsily to the living room, grabbing her bag off the floor, where she'd dropped it on her way in.
She was halfway to the door when she remembered she didn't have her car, and it made tears come to her eyes even faster, because the thought of being trapped here, within arm's reach of everything she wanted, and yet so far away from it, made her feel even more on edge.
Some half-formed plan to go to Raven's was working in her mind, but she wasn't sure if that would put enough distance between them.
She was reaching for the doorknob, her vision blurred by tears as she contemplated calling someone to come get her…when the door opened on its own, Bellamy barely visible behind a large paper bag as he came in, pulling the door shut behind him.
"What are you doing out of bed?" he asked, obviously having noticed her standing there, but not getting a clear view of her face, if his fairly normal and unconcerned tone was anything to go by.
"I…need to go," she mumbled shakily, trying to get to the door, but unwilling to get any closer to him.
He shifted the bag and his wallet, moving everything to his side so he could get a better look at her. "Why?" he asked, his expression immediately changing when he got a look at her. "Clarke, what's wrong? Did something happen after I left?"
She angrily wiped the tears from her cheeks. "No. I just need to leave," she answered, gesturing toward the door.
He moved just a few steps, setting the bag on the counter, and Clarke took the opportunity to try to scoot past him to make her escape.
Just before she reached the door, his hand darted out to grab her arm, probably out of instinct more than anything, and she recoiled like she'd been burned, immediately stepping back toward the opposite wall.
He immediately dropped his hand, looking horrified. "Clarke, I didn't…"
She shook her head, again wiping tears away as she tried to decide if she was more angry or upset.
Whichever was the paramount emotion, she didn't want him to think he'd physically hurt her. His touch had been gentle, like it always was with her.
The problem was, she didn't trust herself not to fall into his bed at the slightest brush of his fingertips, which is why she'd overreacted.
"Bellamy, I need to go," she repeated, as if that was all she was capable of communicating at the moment. Tears fell down her cheeks as she wondered if this was the last time he'd ever look at her with anything even resembling adoration or affection in his eyes. "Please…just let me go," she begged, and he finally seemed to realize that she didn't mean it in just the immediate sense.
At first, his hand had been twitching at his side, probably aching to reach for her, to comfort her as he always did, but as her meaning seemed to sink in, his face hardened. "Running away again, Princess?" he asked, and the nickname didn't sound all that fond anymore. "I thought you were done with that."
She huffed, anger definitely winning out for the moment. "There's a difference between running away and…self-preservation!" she practically screamed at him.
A flicker of uncertainty passed over his face before his anger returned, seemingly doubled in force. "Self-preservation?!" he thundered. "Are you seriously trying to say I…?" he trailed off, seemingly unable to finish the sentence. "You wanted me just as badly as I wanted you!" he shouted, his hand gesturing toward the bedroom.
Oh, God. Why was everything coming out wrong?
"Of course I wanted you!" she screamed back. "I still want you!"
"Then what the hell is wrong?!" he asked in exasperation, his hands flinging out at his sides.
"You just want a fuck buddy, and I can't do that!" she finally admitted, seemingly unable to control her volume now that she'd started.
His brow furrowed, confusion mixing with the anger on his face. "When have I ever said that's what I want?!"
She knew she shouldn't ask, but she couldn't exactly stop herself. "Then what do you want?!"
Once the question was out there, they both paused, just watching each other. The air was heavy with tension and emotion and…something else.
Maybe it was desperation.
Maybe it was hope.
The sound of both of them breathing heavily, winded from their screaming match and their frustration, echoed throughout the room as they stood there, on the precipice of…something.
One side of the cliff led to something wonderful and the other side led to something terrible, and neither of them were sure which way they were going to topple.
Bellamy finally broke the silence, exhaling loudly before a sort of determination came over his face. It was a look she'd never quite seen on him before; it was a determination that said 'I'm done fighting.'
His eyes softened as he looked at her. "You," he said quietly, but his voice was full of conviction. "I want all of you."
Clarke felt as if the breath had been physically knocked out of her, and she was a little afraid to even blink, lest she find out she was imagining the whole thing. "You want…me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Then, she realized she wasn't asking the right question. "You want to…be with me?"
He nodded slowly, his face full of apprehension and something else she was afraid to name.
"But you…" she gestured toward the bedroom. "You never said anything! I thought you just wanted…something physical."
"I wasn't sure if you were just…feeling sorry for me," he said, glancing away from her for the first time. "I thought it was just…pity. I kept telling myself I should stop it, but…I couldn't. I wanted you too badly."
He stepped closer to her without even seeming to realize it, and she swallowed hard, wanting nothing more than to launch herself into his arms.
She shook her head. "Bellamy…no. It was never pity. I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to be…with you."
Another step.
"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked.
"I didn't know how you felt!" she answered a little pointedly. "And I didn't want to spring all that on you while you were already dealing with so much."
Another step, and he was standing just inches from her, their gazes seemingly permanently attached as their bodies gravitated toward each other.
He reached for her, his hands settling almost tentatively on her waist.
She wanted nothing more than to close the last of the remaining distance between them, but she couldn't…not when what they wanted could still be so different.
She put her hands on his chest; not pushing him away, but not allowing him to get any closer either. "Bell…wait," she breathed, fighting every instinct in her body and trying to listen to her brain.
He just raised his eyebrows in question, his face seemingly unconcerned about whatever she was going to say to him, sure that nothing could change what was about to happen between them.
Well, that made one of them.
She took a deep breath before saying, all in a bit of a rush, "I hate sounding like such a…girl, but… I know you don't do relationships. And I don't need a…label or whatever, but I…" she pursed her lips, looking at the collar of his shirt as she felt heat staining her cheeks. "I at least need to know we're exclusive. I need to know we're…" she trailed off, not sure how she was going to finish that sentence.
'…something.'
'…going somewhere.'
She knew that, aside from his short attempt with Gina, he'd never even tried being in a relationship. The thought of a serious long-term commitment couldn't be easy for a guy like him, and she wasn't going to pressure him into saying things he wasn't ready to or committing to things he wasn't ready for.
As long as she knew he was serious about her…and as long as she knew he wasn't sleeping around, she could wait for the rest.
She'd wait as long as it took for him.
She finally got up the courage to meet his gaze again, and he was staring at her with an incredulous smile on his face, seemingly awed by her, that look she was afraid to categorize on his face even more prominently now.
He moved one of his hands up to gently cup her cheek, and she couldn't help but sigh and lean into it, a little of the tension flowing out of her at his soft touch.
"Clarke," he said quietly, shaking his head slowly, that soft smile still playing on his lips. "I don't do relationships because I've never wanted a relationship with anyone but you."
Oh.
He moved further into her personal space, and she happily let him, in a bit of a daze as she leaned back against the wall for support, since her legs currently seemed unable to hold her up on their own.
His face was just a few inches from hers, and she couldn't stop her eyes from flicking between his eyes and his mouth, although he seemed to be having the same problem.
"Princess…" he said, voice low and full of a tenderness she didn't think she'd ever quite heard from him before. "I've been in love with you since you were 18 years old. All I ever wanted was you."
Oh.
She let his words wash over her, sinking in slowly, as if she was afraid to believe he'd really said them, and then she was hit with a wave of relief…of joy…so strong, she wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.
She started to do both, and then she kissed him for all she was worth.
She wasn't sure how long they kissed, but she didn't pull away until her lungs demanded it, and even then, he still chased her lips with his.
She smiled, letting her head rest against the wall and unclenching her hands from where they'd been fisted in his shirt and smoothing them up his chest, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck as she stared up at him.
There were so many questions about his confession swirling around in her head, but they could wait.
For now…
"Bellamy…"
"Mmm?" he hummed, still staring at her with that damn look on his face—the one she could finally let herself admit was love.
"I love you too," she said, voice shaking a little. She shook her head as she tried to find words to convey the magnitude of that love, but she was a little short on both time and coherence at the moment, so she went with the first thing that came to mind. "I love you so much, it's stupid."
Luckily, he seemed to understand, chuckling as he pressed his lips to hers, and then it was like they'd crossed the point of no return, clearly done with conversation for the time being as they held on to each other for dear life, trying to get closer and closer, even after it was physically impossible.
This kiss felt different than all their others, because there was nothing up for interpretation.
When she sighed and melted into him, he knew it didn't just mean 'I like kissing you.' It meant 'You make me happy.'
When he nudged her nose with his and then nibbled on her lower lip, she knew it didn't just mean 'I feel like being playful.' It meant 'I love making you smile.'
When they both groaned, low in their throat, tongues tangling as they pulled each other closer and closer, they both knew it didn't just mean 'I want you' or 'I need you.' It meant 'I love you.'
Within just a few minutes, Clarke found herself trapped fully against the wall. She wasn't sure how or when, but one of her legs had hooked itself over Bellamy's hip, and they were grinding into each other, all thoughts of propriety and 'platonicness' finally dispensed with, thank God.
His hand found its way underneath her shirt (technically, his shirt) and he trailed light, tender touches over her stomach, which seemed to be quivering, before slowly sliding his hand under her sports bra.
Clarke spared a second of thought for her disappointment that the first time he was going to see her in her underwear (at least in a sexual context), it was going to be in the practical cotton ones she wore under her scrubs instead of the sexier ones she had buried in a drawer at home, but she quickly promised herself that he'd eventually see her in all of her underwear…and out of it…and then his calloused thumb brushed across her nipple and she lost all train of thought, moaning into his mouth and rolling her hips even more firmly against his, practically whimpering at the friction between his hardening length and her overly sensitive core.
He pressed gentle, nibbling kisses down her jaw, then latched onto her neck, sucking and biting and then licking at the sensitive spot just below her ear as his fingers played with her nipple, pinching and then rolling it between his work-roughened digits, and her eyes practically rolled back in her head.
Unable to wait any longer for the feeling of his bare skin against hers, she moved her hands down, grasping clumsily at the bottom hem of his shirt, trying to lift it up.
It was then that he froze, his mouth going still against her neck and his hand dropping back down to rest gently on her stomach.
He exhaled harshly, then let his forehead flop down against her shoulder.
She froze as well, eyes wide as she waited for him to say something…do something.
…but he didn't.
She felt practically on the verge of tears, because what now?!
"Bell?" she asked uncertainly.
He mumbled something unintelligible against her shoulder, sounding frustrated.
She slid her hands into his curls, cupping the back of his head and gently pulling him up so she could see his face. "What's wrong?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"We should…slow down," he answered, voice a little shaky.
She had an immediate negative reaction to that suggestion, her brow scrunching and the corners of her mouth turning down. "What? Why?!"
"We don't have to do this…right now."
'But I want to,' she thought, but all that escaped her was a frustrated huff.
"I'm serious about you, Clarke. I'm serious about being good to you…being the kind of guy you deserve. We should…go out on a date," he said, a bit sheepishly, but his gaze was insistent on hers. "I want to do this right."
The tension that had started accumulating in her body was immediately replaced by a warmth that was pure love, pure gratitude for the man standing in front of her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in close and hugging him as tightly as she could.
He was still against her for a moment, and then his hands slid to her back, one still under her shirt, both of them holding her tightly.
"Bellamy," she mumbled quietly against his neck.
"What?" he asked, tone still a bit sheepish.
"I love you," she said, kissing his neck. "I love you so much. And I love how much you love me," she admitted, pressing her lips to the strong column of his neck over and over. "But if you don't fuck me right now, I'm going to strangle you."
He huffed a laugh into her hair, pulling back to look at her. "I'm trying to be a gentleman, Clarke!"
She smiled up at him, her eyes soft even as she knew she had to be exuding lust at the same time. "I know you are."
"I want you to know how serious I am about this…about you. I want you to know how much I love you," he told her quietly, but with such intensity, it made her eyes sting. "I've waited this long to be with you…I can wait a little longer."
Yeah, there was definitely a tear or two in her eye.
The guy who'd only ever cared about sex…the guy who was known for one night stands, threesomes, and fuck buddies…wanted to…court her?
She cupped his face in her hands, staring up at him with incredulity. "Bellamy…I've never doubted how much you love me. Never. I may not have been sure…in what way…you loved me…but I've never doubted how much you care about me. If you say you're serious about being with me, I believe you."
His eyes were dark with desire, and he was staring down at her with a bit of uncertainty, as if he wanted to give in, but was still holding himself back.
She let her hands slide down, caressing the dips between his neck and his shoulders before they slid slowly over his chest.
She stepped closer, tilting her head so she could nibble on the underside of his ridiculously chiseled jaw as her hands slid down to his stomach, fingernails lightly scratching over the smooth muscles of his abdomen.
He stuttered a bit, his hands shaking a little against her back, and she couldn't help but grin against his skin.
She placed warm, open-mouthed kisses along his neck. "We've gone on hundreds of dates, Bell. Probably thousands. I know everything about you. I love everything about you. I don't need anything else. I just need you," she told him. "You're not the only one who's waited a long time for this," she finished, nipping gently at his earlobe and grinning at his resulting hiss.
She leaned back just a few inches, letting her head rest against the wall again as she looked up at him, watching his internal struggle play out clearly on his face.
She could see the love, the respect, the attempt to be chivalrous…and she could see the pure lust that he was trying so hard to keep in check.
He moved one of his hands up to gently cup her cheek, staring down at her with so much concern, it was kind of overwhelming. "Are you sure?" he asked gently.
She smiled, letting all the love and the desire she felt for him shine through clearly. "I am so so sure," she answered, then slid her hands a few inches lower, hooking her fingertips in the elastic waistband of his pants and pulling his hips against hers. She looked up at him a bit coyly. "Bellamy…make love to me."
She'd never uttered those words before in her life, and she'd frankly always found that particular euphemism for sex to be a little silly, but with him…that's exactly what she imagined sex would be like. Hell, she couldn't even kiss him without pouring her entire heart into it.
Bellamy Blake, king of all things casual sex and professional scoffer at rom-coms and Harlequin-esque fairy tales, must have agreed with her assessment, because he didn't even bat an eyelash or crack a smile.
He just groaned, low in his throat, and crashed his lips into hers.
And then it seemed like his hands were everywhere, which was perfect, because that was exactly where she wanted them.
Before she knew it, both of their shirts were laying somewhere on the kitchen floor and her sports bra was rolled up, hooked under her armpits, because that was all the further Bellamy had gotten it before he'd dropped his mouth to her breasts, seemingly unable to stop himself.
Clarke would have taken care of removing it herself, but she was gone after the first touch of his lips on the swell of her breast.
He'd kissed, and nibbled, and sucked an impressive bruise or two onto her tender skin, which was bad enough, but then he'd taken her nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue, and all she could do was sink her fingers into his curls, holding his head against her as she let the pleasure consume her.
His mouth was on one breast, one of his hands was busy with her other breast, and he somehow managed to skim his other hand down her stomach, slowly slipping it into her pants, even if the angle was a bit awkward.
She had the remarkably odd thought that he must be great at that whole 'rub your stomach and pat your head at the same time' game, but then his hand slid into her underwear, fingers sliding into her folds and through the copious wetness that had gathered there, and all she could do was bite her lip and cling tighter to his curls, thoughts of everything except getting him inside her suddenly very unimportant.
She clung to his hair, and then his shoulders, her hands getting more and more desperate as he kept working his fingers against her in tight circles, sending her further and further into the white heat threatening to envelope her.
Then, he slowly kissed his way up her chest, spending an inordinate amount of time nipping at her clavicle before he finally returned to her neck, then made his way back to her mouth.
She kissed him eagerly, feeling like it had been hours since his lips had been on hers instead of mere seconds, and she had just relaxed into the kiss a bit when he suddenly moved his fingers, easily sliding two of them inside her.
She stuttered a bit against him, unable to stop the quick gasp of air she inhaled as the heat building in her core spiked even higher.
She could feel herself beginning to tremble from the inside out, and she knew it wouldn't be much longer before she came undone.
It made no sense, because what was happening was fucking fantastic, but she had waited so goddamn long to be with him, she didn't really want the first orgasm he gave her to be like this…with her bra rolled up under her arms, his hand pushed haphazardly down her pants, and him still mostly dressed.
Honestly, she'd take this any day of the week and twice on Sundays any other time because it was hot as hell, but this first time, she wanted both of them naked, skin on skin, as close as they could possibly get.
She pulled away reluctantly and slid a hand down to circle his wrist, stalling his movements. "Bell…wait."
He looked down at her dazedly, his eyes so dark they looked black.
She almost gave in, but somehow managed to keep her wits about her long enough to tell him, "Clothes off. Now."
They separated just a few inches, quickly taking care of their own clothes, their movements made frantic by the thought of what would come as soon as they were finished.
Of course, Bellamy had less to take off, so he was standing naked in front of her by the time she was down to just her panties.
She glanced up, and found him staring down at her with around 12 different emotions on his face. The predominant one was, of course, lust, and it was infused with a hunger that seemed so intense, so feral, it might have scared her…had she not been feeling the exact same way.
But along with the passion that was obvious…there were other, softer, more surprising things visible. Love. A bit of incredulity. And what looked like…reverence.
His eyes were sliding slowly over her from head to toe, and his gaze was so hot, so heavy, it felt like an actual physical caress.
But the way he looked at her…the way he took her in…he wasn't just telling her that she looked sexy, or that he was a fan of her generous breasts, or that he wanted to get his hands back on her.
He was telling her that he worshipped her.
He swallowed audibly, then gently rested his hands on her hips, his fingers just skimming the edges of her cotton underwear. "Do I at least get to take these off?" he asked, voice rough.
She couldn't help the sultry smile that crossed her face, and she held his gaze for just a moment, allowing the tension to build up deliciously before she nodded slowly.
He leaned forward, pressing a soft, surprisingly chaste, kiss to her lips before kissing his way down her neck.
His just allowed his hands to gently skim her sides as he oh-so-slowly kissed his way down her body, going in-between her breasts, then skipping over the small indent of her belly button, then stopping just as he reached the elastic band of her underwear.
He paused there, kneeling, his hands on her hips and his lips resting against her lower stomach.
She was actually holding her breath, waiting for whatever was going to come next.
He stayed there, immobile, for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds.
When he finally tilted his head up, his gaze catching hers, she felt like she was ready to spontaneously combust.
Honestly, she wasn't sure if he was again asking for permission, even though she'd made her desires clear repeatedly, or if he was just trying to get her even more worked up.
Either way, it worked.
"Bellamy," she moaned, and it came out like a plea.
That seemed to be all he needed to spur him to action, because his hands immediately hooked in the sides of her underwear, sliding them down her hips and then letting go so they fell in a heap at her ankles.
He put his hand on her calf, gently lifting her right leg to free it, and pressing a shiver-inducing kiss to the inside of her bent knee before releasing it, and then repeating the action with her other leg.
That left her standing in front of him, completely naked, practically trembling with need.
She pulled him up, desperate for him.
And she wasn't disappointed.
Their bodies slid together perfectly as they kissed, and Clarke relished the feeling of his bare skin against hers from head to toe, their chests pressed tightly together and his erection resting firmly against her stomach.
She wanted to touch him. She wanted to taste him. But all she could do was hold on to his shoulders and let herself get swept away as Bellamy tilted his head, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and turning the kiss dirtier than any she'd ever experienced.
She gave as good as she got, tangling her tongue with his and sliding her body against his, desperate for friction anywhere she could get it.
Before she could even process what was happening, he'd lifted her leg, again hooking it over his hip, and slid his fingers back inside her, his thumb finding its way to her clit.
Her kisses turned sloppier, needier, as he moved his fingers in and out, his thumb simultaneously rubbing circles against her, and she knew it would only be a matter of seconds before she lost any semblance of control she had left.
She broke the kiss, moving to whisper shakily in his ear, "I don't want to come on your fingers. Not the first time."
He stilled against her, his breathing harsh as he pulled back to look at her, his eyes so so dark. "My tongue?" he asked, his voice huskier than she'd ever heard it.
Clarke felt herself involuntarily clench around his fingers, cause God, even the thought of that did positively disastrous things to her.
She wasn't sure how, but she managed to shake her head, reaching down to wrap a hand around his length, stroking him slowly.
His eyes slammed shut. "Fuck."
She chuckled, leaning forward to nip sharply at his chin. "C'mon, Bell."
He moved so quickly, she barely had time to blink before he'd slid his hands under her thighs, lifting her easily.
She wrapped her arms and legs around him, letting the wall support her back as she kept her eyes locked on his, even as she could feel him reaching down between them.
She'd just closed her eyes at the sharp stab of pleasure that shot through her when the head of his cock bumped against her clit…when he swore again, but not in a good way.
She opened her eyes, ready to curse the universe, because what on earth was the problem now and if she didn't get him inside her immediately, she might very well cry.
"Condom," he said shakily. "They're in the bedroom." He moved his hands back to her hips, as if to help her back to her feet.
She locked her ankles around his back, tightening her legs, the decision made before she even had a chance to think about it.
She didn't need to think about it.
This was Bellamy.
She trusted him more than she'd ever trusted anyone.
She'd trust him with her life.
And she wanted to feel him.
She wanted to feel everything.
"I'm on the pill," she said, her voice soft but sure. "And I'm clean."
He just looked at her, a bit more of that awe on his face. "I'm clean too. And I…" he cleared his throat, glancing away from her. "I haven't been with anyone since you came back."
Clarke felt hope bloom in her chest, but she tried to quell it, just a little. He'd been dating Gina at the time, and their relationship continued for a couple of weeks after Clarke's return, so he must have meant he hadn't been with anyone since their break-up.
"You mean…after Gina?"
His eyes found hers again, and they were so open, so honest, it seemed like he was baring his soul. He shook his head. "Since you came back."
Clarke smiled, not even trying to contain how happy that made her. She slid her fingers into his hair. "I haven't been with anyone since I came back either," she admitted.
He looked a bit surprised and so relieved she could almost taste it.
She decided to, leaning forward to capture his lips with hers.
This time, she was the one who reached down, taking him firmly in hand and guiding him to her entrance.
He pushed slowly inside, kissing her all the while, his hands firm under her thighs as he held her steady.
Clarke gave herself over to everything she was feeling, blocking out everything but him.
The smooth glide of his tongue over her lower lip.
His hands squeezing her legs…then sliding up to squeeze her ass.
The way her nipples slid against the hard muscles of his chest.
The way he stretched her so perfectly, even the slightest movement sending sparks of electricity through her.
He finally slid all the way in, his pelvis bumping into hers at the perfect angle…and she couldn't stop the orgasm that washed over her.
It wasn't super powerful in intensity, more like a gentle wave of ecstasy that turned her boneless and made her go liquid around him.
She tried to keep kissing him, but she knew her movements weren't very coordinated.
He paused, looking at her in disbelief. "Did you just…?"
She leaned her head back against the wall, nodding wickedly, her eyes still half closed.
"Jesus Christ, Princess," he muttered, surging forward to kiss her again.
Her…responsiveness…must have been what pushed him over the edge, because he gave up all pretext of gentleness or hesitancy, snapping his hips into hers at a moderate pace, but with enough force to make her toes curl.
She met him thrust for thrust, her nails scratching at his shoulders as she started building toward another peak already.
Actually, she wasn't sure if was a new one or if she was still riding the last one and climbing higher, but whichever it was, she wanted it.
He trailed messy kissed down her neck, turning his attention to her breasts, and she didn't even try to hold back the indecent sounds that were leaving her mouth as he nibbled his way toward her nipple.
He feasted on it, flicking it with his tongue, then gently using his teeth, then sucking and licking at it until she could feel every one of his movements on her nipple in her clit.
Then, just when she thought she couldn't stand any more…he moved to the other breast.
She let loose a moan that probably should have embarrassed her, but it just seemed to spur him on.
He repeated his actions on the other side, and just when that nipple started to get painfully hard, the intensity almost too much, he pressed her more fully against the wall, moving one of his hands from her ass to slide it in-between them.
His fingers grazed softly over her clit, and suddenly, the intensity wasn't too much. She needed more.
She slid her hands firmly into his curls, holding his head against her chest. "Bellamy," she breathed, and she wasn't sure if it sounded like a plea or an order, but either way, he seemed to understand, doubling his attentions with his mouth, his hand, and his hips.
She was practically panting above him, drowning in sensation, sure she'd never felt something so amazing in her entire life and simultaneously wanting it to last forever and wanting to reach the peak immediately, because she couldn't even imagine how wonderful the end was if the middle was this mind-blowing.
She didn't have to worry about that for long though, because with a particularly powerful thrust of his hips and a sharp nip from his teeth, she was gone, clenching around him as he continued fucking her through it, drawing out her orgasm even as he gentled the motions of his hand and his mouth.
When she finally regained some sort of control over her body, she pulled his head back up to hers, kissing him thoroughly.
He walked into the bedroom, still carrying her, and still hard inside her.
They separated, just for a moment, to situate themselves on the bed, and that's when Clarke pushed him to his back, crawling on top of him.
She kissed him gently, almost chastely, which was in direct contrast to how she moved after that, sitting up and then lowering herself on to him slowly, making them both moan.
She moved slowly, riding him, her hands on his chest as she maintained eye contact, wanting to chuckle at the curses that were falling from his lips, but unable to, because every time she moved, a new bolt of electricity shot through her.
Honestly, she'd been doing this to put on a bit of a show for him, pretty sure she was done for the night, but this angle was hitting the perfect spot inside her, and the way he was watching her hungrily was getting her worked up again already.
She grabbed his hands, which were on her hips, helping to steady her, and slid them up to cup her breasts, leaving her hands on top of his, finding it unbelievably erotic.
Before long, her head tilted back of its own accord, her back arching as it all started to become too much.
"Do you have any idea how fucking breathtaking you are?" he asked, voice completely wrecked. "Like something out of a goddamn fantasy, Clarke."
She smiled lazily, leaning down to kiss him.
He kissed her back for a moment, then took the opportunity to flip them over.
Bellamy captured her hands in his, twining their fingers together and holding her hands down on either side of her head. "You got another one in you, Princess?" he asked breathlessly.
All she could do was whimper against his lips as he snapped his hips into hers again.
He nodded, kissing her jaw. "You can give me another one."
She could give him another one? She was pretty sure he was the one giving them to her, but she wasn't about to argue the point.
They stayed like that for a moment, their hands joined as he moved slowly, and it was the most sensual experience of Clarke's life.
He kissed her, all tongue and teeth and the more he lost control, the filthier it got.
Eventually, his thrusts started becoming more erratic, fast in a way that was making her see stars, and all she could do was wrap her arms around his neck and hold on for dear life as he buried his head in her hair.
"God, Clarke, I can't believe this is finally happening. I can't believe…" he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, but Clarke wasn't even sure he'd meant to say what he did.
He seemed a bit out of it, frenzied and desperate.
She could relate.
She slid her hand into his hair, holding him close as she met him thrust for thrust. "I know, Bell. I know. And it's good. It's so good."
He nuzzled his nose into her cheek. "I love you. So much."
She nodded, her eyes closing as she fell even further into the whirlpool of sensations assaulting her. "I love you too."
She'd barely gotten the words out of her mouth before he was moving, taking her legs, which she'd wrapped around his waist at some point, and pressing them toward her chest.
His first thrust at this new angle made her actually scream, although she quickly covered her mouth with her hand, moaning into it as he pounded into her at a brutal pace that was hitting all the right spots, every time.
The closer and closer she got to the biggest peak she'd ever climbed in her life, the less she cared about the burning stretch in the back of her legs, and she pulled them closer to her body herself, desperate for more.
It allowed him to get closer, and he latched onto the side of her neck, sucking on it and sending her flying even higher.
"Come on, Princess. Come for me," he said, voice pitched so low and sounding so destroyed, it gave her a whole new layer of sensation on its own.
Just after he said it, he bit down hard on her shoulder, and she couldn't stop the orgasm that ripped through her, making her scream his name as her entire body tensed with more pleasure than she'd ever experienced before.
Everything seemed to go a little white and fuzzy after that, but she vaguely registered him losing his control mere seconds after she did, cursing into her neck as he spilled himself inside her.
He gently lowered her legs, and then went to move off of her, but she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him back down on her, the thought of him not being pressed against her more objectionable than the thought of his weight crushing her, at least for the moment.
She stayed like that, riding her high and enjoying the feeling of his body on hers, for what didn't seem like nearly long enough before he was pressing a kiss to her shoulder, then one to her lips, then pushing himself off of her.
She whined softly at the loss of him, but couldn't bring herself to do much else, including open her eyes.
She wasn't sure if she dozed off, if it was a post-earth-shattering-orgasm haze, or if it was a bit of both, but she stayed mostly out of it while was in the bathroom for a moment, and then even while he came back out and gently cleaned her up.
It wasn't until he slid back into bed with her and tugged her into his arms that she managed to open her eyes, even though she still couldn't manage it for more than a few seconds at a time.
He ran his knuckles gently down the side of her face, the tucked her hair behind her ear, staring at her like he still didn't quite believe she was there.
She just stared back at him, smiling softly as she blinked through her exhaustion, knowing she'd never felt more content in her entire life and hoping that he saw that.
He shook his head slowly, his face on the pillow beside hers. "You screamed my name when you came," he whispered, his voice a little awed. "Do you know what that does to a guy?"
She chuckled, moving forward to kiss him softly.
She wanted to scream his name when she came every day for the rest of her life, and she'd be sure to tell him something to that effect the next time she could string more than a few words together at once.
But for now…
"I love you," she whispered.
He tugged her in closer, wrapping his arm more firmly around her back. "I love you too."
A/N: ...SO?
WHAT DID YOU THINK?! Was it worth it?!
Sorry. Writing this chapter was just...a lot. Lmao
P.S. This wasn't a "song fic" but I did have the confession scene planned out from the beginning, and it reminded me a bit of these lyrics...
*And maybe some day
If love comes our way
We'll be walking in the meadow in the early spring
You'll be twirling in a sundress wearing my ring
Can you see it
Girl I believe that
It's true
All I ever wanted
All I ever really wanted was you*
"All I Ever Wanted" by Chuck Wicks...hence the title.
P.P.S. One chapter left!