Chapter 5: Clarke (III)

Chapter Summary: Clarke realizes (gleefully) that when he isn't mercilessly teasing her, Bellamy is incredibly malleable to her will.

Chapter Notes: First off: YOU GUYS ARE GREAT! Thank you for the lovely reviews ~ When I hear from you guys, it seriously makes my day. And because I want to hear more, I write more. You see how we all benefit? ;)

Aaaanyway, here's the long-awaited M-rating... And "long-awaited" is clearly subjective, since you've only been waiting like four days. Enjoy and you're welcome ;)

The moving process has been simultaneously frustrating and enlightening. See, Clarke honestly had no idea Bellamy was so… flappable. And now that she knows it, well…

They spend the entire day pushing each other's buttons and finding each other's weak spots (and oh, she has so many weaknesses for this man and it's infuriating that he's opening them all up). She comes to the realization that this competition of theirs is going to culminate in either a nuclear ending to a fragile friendship, or mind-blowing sex with the object of her most debauched fantasies. She really, really hopes it's the latter.

Clarke is sorting out boxes that are piled up in the living room, and Bellamy has taken it upon himself to deliver them to the proper destinations. She realizes (gleefully) that when he isn't mercilessly teasing her, he's incredibly malleable to her will.

Clarke hears a crash in the hallway, followed by a deafening silence. She thinks maybe he's broken something priceless, so that's why he's being so quiet. She yells out, "What the fuck was that, Bellamy?" but gets nothing in response. So she gets up, huffing in irritation, to see what the fuck he ruined.

She sees his panicked face and looks down to see what dropped and oh, no. NO, no, no, no… Scattered down the hallway are Clarke's favorite… toys. She rakes her eyes over the floor, cataloging each humiliating item that has tumbled into view… A neon-pink vibrator. A lifelike suction-mounted dildo (that she may or may not have named "Bellamy," not that he needs to know that…). A purple rabbit vibrator. A silver-bullet vibrator and a vibrating egg. Oh god, an anal plug with pretty jewel on the end that she hasn't experimented with, but was intrigued by when Monroe's bachelorette party visited an adult toy store. And oooh, the leather handcuffs that she hasn't gotten to use yet… Clarke shakes her head to remind herself, No! no "ooohs" right now! You're embarrassed… She's trying to think of a way out of this, and is disappointed to find that she's unable to find a solution that doesn't involve killing herself and/or Bellamy.

Bellamy, for his part, is completely silent. She wants to say something snarky like, "Oh, so this is what it takes to make you shut up." But her mouth isn't working. Not when her gaze is locked into Bellamy's like her life fucking depends on it. It seems like she forgot how to breathe, and she's pretty sure the ringing in her ears is just a symptom of some sort of fatal reaction she's having to the sheer humiliation of this moment. She takes some solace in the fact that Bellamy looks as rattled as she feels.

Suddenly his gaze becomes voracious and fuck if that sentiment isn't reflected in her own eyes. She's breathing again. Sort of. Air is reaching her lungs in short, shallow pants but she's not sure how effectively oxygen is being transported to her brain right now. She's pleased to see that Bellamy is experiencing similar difficulties with his diaphragm. (More evidence that she's not the only one who is severely affected by… this. Good.).

Both she and Bellamy are coiled like predators watching their prey. Neither of them moves a damn muscle. Clarke never truly understood the expression "tension so thick you could cut it with a knife" until this exact moment. Holy fuck, she understands it. Clarke studies Bellamy, considers the salacious glint in his eyes as they bore into her. Needing almost no time to come to a decision, she orders, "Everybody out!"

Her eyes don't leave Bellamy's as she loudly demands that their friends vacate the premises. Really, it's for their own good, because she's pretty sure they don't want to witness what's about to happen. She feels a jolt of confidence when Bellamy gives a barely perceptible nod of his head. His darkened gaze provokes unmistakable feelings of lust, and she's not sure how long she can hold out. With each passing moment, her concern for her friends' potential emotional scars diminishes.

Raven rounds the corner to see what's going on, only to be met with Bellamy's menacing voice,"EVERYBODY. OUT. NOW."

Raven quickly realizes what's going on and spins on her heel, announcing "Everybody get the fuck out of here, now." Octavia is out the door, dragging an amused Lincoln behind her, before Raven even finishes the sentence. Wick sounds confused as Raven exasperatedly tugs him along, grumbling something that sounds a lot like "about fucking time."

As soon as she hears the front door slam shut, Bellamy is on her, crowding in on her until her back hits the wall. The predatory glint in his eyes fills her with need and she can almost taste the longing in the air between them. Just like the drive-through, just like the apartment hallway earlier, his lips linger over hers, almost but not quite touching… His eye contact is unceasing, and her body nearly vibrates with greed. This time she knows he really is waiting for her make the final choice. He's giving her one last chance to back out.

Clarke closes her eyes and savors these last moments before everything changes. Because she knows that nothing is going to be the same after this. Her decision was made long before this game started, so she tilts her chin and cautiously captures his bottom lip between her own. When he doesn't move, she panics, thinking she just made a huge mistake and somehow misread the whole situation. But was there any other way to read it? Relief floods her body when she feels the corners of his lips quirk up in a grin before he reciprocates with mind-blowing ferocity, reminding her that this – Bellamy – will be nothing short of earth-shattering.

Clarke has thought about kissing Bellamy before. A lot. She's had detailed fantasies about how his soft lips would feel against hers. She knows now that her imagination fell tragically short of the reality, and oh god… He kisses her like this is the main event, with single-minded determination that just might ignite her soul. His large hands come up to frame her face and he draws her deeper into this devastating kiss as she's pulled into the hurricane that is Bellamy Blake. She wonders how she can feel so much passion between them when they haven't even deepened the kiss beyond something that's practically… chaste.

Goosebumps erupt over her entire body and she registers that his hands are wandering deliciously over her body, making short work of the too-tight tank top. With her top gone, only her bra stands between his hands and her bounteous assets so he roughly yanks the cups of her bra down, freeing her breasts so he can knead the supple flesh with his strong fingers.

Bellamy groans against her lips, "Clarke, your tits are fucking amazing." His words make her a little bit light-headed with desire. When he brushes his thumbs over her sensitive nipples, her mouth opens in an indulgent gasp and his tongue slips past her parted lips. She thanks the heavens that she accepted the breath mints Octavia offered her earlier, and judging by the minty taste of his mouth, he took the same offer. She feels utterly consumed by him, lost in his taste, mesmerized by the tantalizing way his fingers are playing her.

They come up for air and Clarke mourns the absence of his succulent lips on hers until he attaches them to the sensitive skin on her neck, and oh, that… that's good. She can feel his smug grin against her skin as he kisses a line down to her shoulder, taking her bra strap between his teeth and roughly dragging it down over her arm.

"Hey, be nice to my bra!" she admonishes.

He huffs a laugh as his hands snake around her back to deftly unhook the black lacy garment.

Clarke thinks good god, his hands are nimble.

Bellamy's voice drips like honey on her skin, "Oh, Princess… You have no idea." Clarke guesses she must have said that out loud, but can't bring herself to feel any embarrassment about her traitorous mouth. Not when she's about to be the recipient of Bellamy's nimble hands… She desperately wants to become acquainted with his nimble mouth, and nimble tongue, and- "Clarke, I can't fucking waitto have my tongue in you… I'm gonna fuck you with it until you can't see straight… I'm gonna taste you while you come undone on my mouth." Of course he's gifted at talking dirty… His vulgar words send her mind to very indecent places. She bites her fist to keep her lips from betraying her further and Bellamy huffs a laugh against the skin between her breasts. He stands back up and pulls her hand away from her mouth, pinning it against the wall above her head. He shakes his head with a smirk, "Nuh uh, I wanna hear you." Her body is on fire as he brings her other hand over her head and crosses one wrist over the other, holding them firmly in one fist.

Bellamy kicks her feet apart and his free hand slips under the waistband of the too-short shorts. She is completely unable to control the sounds that escape her when his skilled fingers find their way between her folds. With his mouth doing terrible, corrupt things to the sensitive spot behind her ear, his hand explores her pussy, caressing her sensitive outer lips, dipping teasingly into her slit as he strokes everything but her throbbing clit. She wishes her hands were free so she could pull his hair or scratch his skin, release her frustrations on his body until he gives her what she needs. She thinks this is probably why he's restrained her.

She growls with irritation, "Goddammit Bellamy, stop teasing me!"

He responds with tantalizing nips at her earlobe and a wicked laugh, "So demanding…"

Clarke rolls her eyes and thrusts her hips forward, trying to make his fingers go where she wants them. He shakes his head again in admonishment and pulls his hands out of her shorts (asshole). She's pissed at his denial of her pleasure, but then her whole body shivers with irrefutable arousal when he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth, licking and sucking her arousal off of them, not once breaking eye contact. He lets go of her hands and she brings them to Bellamy's wrists. With a challenging glare, she guides his hands to her ass and he immediately picks up the hint, supporting her weight as she jumps up and wraps her legs around his hips as he pins her against the wall.

He chuckles at her exasperation, "Patience…"

Clarke, of course, scowls at this suggestion and rolls her hips against his in response. She grinds her heat onto his already-hard cock, grinning like a Cheshire cat when his whole body tenses up in undeniable pleasure. She chuckles, "Patience, huh?"

Bellamy growls, "Shut. Up. Clarke." as he pulls her hips a few inches away from the wall then shoves her hard back into it, grinning at the surprised squeak that escapes her. Clarke feels a surge of wetness from her core and files that reaction away for future analysis.

Clarke cards her fingers into his hair and pulls hard in response before she crushes her mouth into his again. Bellamy leaves her lips again to suck bruising kisses into the long line of her neck as he pins her harder into the wall and she thinks she should be angry at his rough treatment, but fuck if it isn't igniting something raw inside of her. It feels right. Then it becomes clear. He's not angry. He's not being mean. He's not even releasing pent-up frustration. Her heart flutters something crazy as she realizes that this is Bellamy giving her exactly what she didn't realize she absolutely needs.

Because she's been so goddamn tired of being treated like she's about to break. Every partner she's had since her father died has treated her like porcelain, ready to shatter at any moment. She remembers how each gentle touch felt like contempt for her hard-earned self-confidence. A fragile girl, a "delicate flower" was what they wanted, and when she got tired of playing the part she called it quits. They couldn't handle a woman with sharp edges guarding her soul. But Bellamy... Bellamy isn't afraid of her anger. He isn't going to be run off by her antagonism. (Hell, if that was a problem he would have given up years ago…). He's not scared to peel away her layers of repressed resentment to get to the core of who she is. She wants to be loved, she wants to love, and she's pretty sure that if anyone can fit that bill, it's Bellamy.

With every abrasive touch, Bellamy tells her she's not too much for him to handle. He makes her feelcomplete and this realization makes her want to cry. In his hands, she feels alive for the first time and in just a few short minutes, he's already opened up parts of her soul she didn't know existed. He's unleashed a carnal need that's been eating her from the inside out for years.

She wants needs more of his ruthless ferocity, so she eggs him on and spits out, "Fuck you, Bellamy."

He laughs, completely unaffected by the heat in her voice, "Count on it, Princess." Clarke smiles broadly in approval of the new and improved usage of that dreadful nickname. Her grin stands in stark contrast to her wrath just seconds ago, telling him wordlessly that yeah, he's giving her what she needs, that she understands what he's doing. He returns her smile with a beaming one of his own.

And just like that, the aggression and fury that lingered in the air dissipates, replaced by an overwhelming sense of longing and unbridled lust as Bellamy attaches himself again to her neck. As much as Clarke needs him inside of her, she doesn't want to fuck him in the hallway. It takes tremendous effort to break contact, but she places her hands on his broad shoulders and pushes him away. He pulls his face back, confused and concerned. She sees his mind reeling, knows he's worried she changed her mind. So she rests a hand on his cheek, stroking reassuringly with her thumb. She smiles, "I don't want our first time to be against a wall."

He huffs a relieved laugh and nods, "So… bedroom?"

She nods with a warm chuckle, "We can make it there, I think."

Bellamy readjusts his hands under her ass as she wraps her arms around his neck and locks her ankles behind him, clinging to him like the floor is on fire. She grinds her pelvis against him and revels in the wanton groan she elicits from him. She's sincerely looking forward to getting his pants off of him, because fuck, she needs to see this for herself. He feels huge.

Clarke chuckles at Bellamy's enthusiasm as he carries her toward her bedroom. Her laughs are all but silenced when he fists his hand into her hair and pulls her in for a searing kiss. Clarke lets a curious hand travel from his neck down to his flexed upper arm and gleefully squeezes his bulky arm muscles. A spontaneous moan escapes her mouth as she feels them flex under her fingers. Yeah, she knows, she's kind of a little bit obsessed with his arms. Sue her… They're her favorite part of him. Although, she might have to update her "Favorite Body Parts on Bellamy Blake" list now that she's had a taste of what his fingers are capable of. Not that she has a list like that… And if she did, that's her business.

"God, you're so strong…" (Clarke doesn't mean for that to sound quite so desperate). Bellamy laughs good-naturedly at her appraisal. She glances at his face to see a smug but well-deserved smirk cross his features. "Seriously, I'm heavy! How are your arms not dying right now?"

Bellamy looks her in the eye, "You're perfect." She feels her chest tighten at the sincerity of his words.

The short trip to Clarke's bedroom takes far longer than it should, mainly because Bellamy is very easily distracted. Clarke knows she isn't helping his focus when she nibbles lightly on the shell of his ear while moaning shamelessly. She's not doing it on purpose, she swears. (Yes, she definitely is). But she certainly doesn't complain when he stops to push her into the nearest wall, and shedefinitely doesn't mind when he greedily devours the sensitive flesh of her neck.

When they finally arrive at Clarke's door, she laughs at Bellamy's impatient huffs as he fumbles with the handle. After a few seconds of his frustrated grumbling, Clarke takes mercy and reaches behind to open the door for him.

Bellamy makes a noise that sounds like something between a sigh and a growl, "Fucking finally…" He unceremoniously deposits her onto her mattress and she yelps in surprise, then laughs as she bounces on impact. But then she sees Bellamy's licentious gaze and forgets why she was laughing at all. Clarke stretches back on the mattress, writhing with delight under his vulgar stare. She's pleased with herself for having the forethought to make her bed this afternoon. (She may or may not have counted on this happening).

"God, you're fucking beautiful." The way Bellamy says it makes her actually believe it. Okay, she knows she's attractive, but hearing those words from Bellamy make her feel it on a whole new level. Clarke feels the heat rise on her face and neck, reminding her that she's terrible at accepting compliments.

Shit, this is happening.

Bellamy descends onto the bed and lies down next to her, somehow hovering halfway on top of her. He leans on his elbow while his free hand gets to work, playing her body like a damn fiddle… She instinctively spreads her legs as she feels his fingers travel between her thighs, gasping as he presses them against the sopping fabric of the too-short shorts. Her face blushes a furious shade of red when she realizes that she can hear her arousal through two layers of clothing. Bellamy buries his face into her neck, cursing under his breath, "Fuck… You're so fucking wet for me, Clarke." He rises to his knees grips the waistband of the too-short shorts and tugs at them impatiently, so she lifts her hips, amused at his eagerness, and he slides her shorts and underwear down her smooth thighs.

Clarke asks, her voice already getting raspy, "Why are you still wearing clothes?" She feels unfairly vulnerable, being completely naked while he's still fully clothed.

Bellamy smirks, "You're free to undress me if you want me naked so bad." Clarke makes a growling noise as she scrambles to her feet in front of him. He laughs, "Wow, that was quick."

Clarke laughs, then looks him in the eye with a shy smile, "You get to see me. Now I want to see you." Although she stood up in a hurry, she takes her time undressing him. He lifts his arms and starts to pull his T-shirt off that way guys do, but Clarke pulls down on his arms with a shake of her head. "Let me." He nods, shivering as she glides her hands under his shirt and rakes her fingernails along his toned abdomen. She gathers the material of his shirt in her hands as they slowly travel up his torso, marveling at his body as it is exposed. He lifts his arms again and smiles as she stands on her tip toes to get the shirt over his head. With his torso fully exposed, she takes time to admire it with her hands and lips. She takes note of the spots that make him shiver, and wonders if he'll react the same way if she licks those spots. Then she remembers that that's something she can totally do…

He grabs onto her hips and pulls them into his and she feels his hard cock bumping her abdomen, so she takes the hint and unfastens his belt and pants. As she unzips his jeans, she makes sure to rub her palm over his erect cock, reveling in the loud groan he doesn't hold back. She slips her hands underneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, taking her time as she pushes them down so he can kick them down. She gasps in awed surprise as his erection springs free and takes the opportunity to trail her shaking fingers from base to tip. He drops his head down and buries his face in her neck, cursing with a groan. "Fuck…" Realizing she doesn't need to be tentative, she wraps her hand around his shaft, running her thumb over the head to pick up the precum that seeps out the tip. She looks up at him when he lifts his head and smiles gently when she sees his darkened eyes beholding her through hooded lids. His mouth drops open as she brings her thumb to her lips, tasting the salty fluid gathered there.

He groans shamelessly and his lips are on hers in an instant. She feels her entire body heat up as she opens her mouth to him, granting his tongue entrance. Their tongues battle for dominance as he bends her back down onto the bed. They break apart and she scoots backward toward the pillows, expecting him to follow, confused when he's still kneeling on the edge of the mattress. She furrows her brows in question.

He smirks, "What did you call it again? Nimble tongue?"

Clarke sighs shakily, "Oh my god…" She shivers as her mind is flooded with memories of her depraved dreams, Imaginary-Bellamy's head buried between her legs. Only now, this isn't imaginary. And oh holy shit, this is happening, he's gonna eat me out…

Bellamy gives her a wolfish grin as he crawls up toward her. She parts her ankles but keeps her knees closed, inexplicably nervous now that this isn't a dream…

His face softens as he rests his hands on her raised knees "Trust me?"

Clarke nods, "Of course. Yeah…" She's taken aback for a second when she realizes how true that statement is.

He smiles, "Then relax for me… Tell me if you get uncomfortable, yeah?"

Clarke gives him nervous smile, "Yeah. Okay." She leans back on the pillows and there are a lot of pillows… She's about to remove some of them but Bellamy stops her.

He shakes his head, "No. I want to look at your face when you come… And I want you to see me while my tongue is inside of you… Clarke, you won't remember anyone else's face down here after I'm done with you…"

Clarke shivers with a slow nod of her head, about to fucking melt into a pool of lust. He brushes his fingers along the insides of her calves, wrapping his large hands around her knees when he reaches them. He gently parts her legs until the outsides of her thighs fall flat on the mattress. She groans loudly when she sees his face, eyes glued to her exposed pussy. He smirks and looks back up at her, "I haven't even touched you yet."

Clarke just stares at him with a dazed expression, "It feels like your eyes are touching me."

He smiles, "Just wait…"

Clarke nods and bites her lip nervously as he lays gentle kisses along her inner thigh, slowly (torturously) making his way toward her heat. Her breathing picks up as he laves his tongue in the hollow of her hip. Just when she thinks he's going to move to her cunt, he bypasses her pleasure zone completely, indulging himself with biting kisses over her pubic bone. Her breath hitches when he dips his tongue into her belly button, and as he licks strong circles and patterns along her abdomen, she gasps with the realization that this tongue will soon be inside of her. He brings his hands up to play with her breasts, squeezing and fondling them while he hovers his body over hers. He kisses his way up her torso, taking his time getting to her tits. (Wait, did she really just refer to her own breasts as 'tits?' God, this man's vocabulary is rubbing off in the most lewd ways). She groans in frustration when he neglects her nipples on his way up, bypassing yet another pleasure zone. She's almost wondering if maybe he doesn't know what he's doing. Then she looks at the wicked smirk on his face and nope, he knows exactly what he's doing.

Bellamy beautiful face hovers over hers now, and fuck it, she just wants him inside of her. So she swings a leg over his ass and tries to pull him down on top of her. As strong as her thigh muscles are (and she knows they're strong), she's got nothing on Bellamy's strength. He just laughs in her ear as he sucks her earlobe into his mouth, provoking a delicious full-body shiver out of her. He grazes his teeth over the shell of her ear then makes his way back down her body again. She yelps in surprise when he nips on her collarbone but moans with satisfaction when he soothes the bite with his lithe tongue. He travels down again and sucks gentle kisses onto her oh-so-responsive tits and she thinks to herself, please, please don't ignore my—… As if he can read her mind, he draws an aching nipple into his mouth and sucks with the perfect amount of pressure to extract a lecherous cry out of her. Every tug is sending delicious jolts of pleasure to her throbbing clit and oh god, this is good…

Clarke wants to be pissed at how well Bellamy can play her body. Is she really that predictable?

Bellamy releases her nipple and chuckles, "Predictable? No way… I've only just started learning you, Clarke." He smiles sweetly and her irritation vanishes with the sincerity of his voice.

She huffs a laugh, "This thinking-out-loud shit has got to stop…"

Bellamy laughs with her as he switches his attention to her other breast, and she decides she doesn't care anymore if her traitorous lips keep voicing her thoughts, especially if his reactions are this heated. Her head is swimming with want as he makes his way back down to her pussy. Then he stops everything for a second, like he's trying to gain his bearings or something. After a moment, he scoots his body down and snakes his arms under her thighs to hook her legs over his shoulders. With his thumbs, he spreads her open, licking his lips as his eyes feast on her glistening cunt. He gives her one last questioning look and she's barely finished nodding when he drives his tongue deep inside of her. Her eyes have trouble maintaining focus as he locks his gaze onto hers, writhing his strong tongue around to stroke her inner walls. He closes his eyes, savoring her flavor (which, what? She never thought about him liking her taste so much, but oh god, it's erotic). She lets her head fall back onto the pillows behind her and closes her eyes while her body is thrumming with pleasure. Her nerves spark with electricity, every twist of his strong muscle sending her into a state of lustful oblivion.

And then… then he closes his lips over her throbbing clit and the noise that escapes her is thoroughly animalistic, "Oh GOD!" He draws her tender bundle of nerves into his mouth, gently but oh-so-effectively sucking, and she can't fucking see straight. Her hips buck up into his mouth but he holds her down with a gentle forearm. She can't figure out what to do with her hands, so she grips onto the arm that's holding her down. She doesn't realize she's scratching her nails so hard into his skin until he hisses against her. She relaxes her hands, soothing the crescent-shaped indents with her gentle fingers, "Sorry."

He smiles gently, then interlaces his fingers through hers. He brings his other arm back out from under her legs and spreads her thighs even wider. He pulls her clit back into his mouth, tugging at it with gentle shakes of his head and holy fuck this is the best thing she's ever felt ever in her entire life. That is, until he slips a finger inside of her, still pulling and playing with her clit in his mouth. Pleased with her throaty whines, he adds a second finger, crooking it against that spongy cluster of nerves deep inside of her, and that – that's the most incredible fucking thing she's ever experienced. Her mind is void of all thoughts except Bellamy, watching her with his penetrating gaze while he's doing filthy, unspeakable, exhilarating things to her body.

Her orgasm is rising inside of her quickly and Bellamy can feel it so he slows down, and she'd kick him for it if she was capable. He switches it up, plunging his tongue into her while he lightly rolls her clit between his fingers. And after that has her writhing beneath him, he changes tactics again, trapping her clit between gentle teeth while he flicks it softly with the tip of his tongue. Then he holds her open with his fingers so he can lick her deeply and she thinks oh fuck, that's her favorite… It becomes a drawn-out, torturous game of building her up and slowing back down, a rising ebb and flow until she's so wanton with need she feels tears in her eyes. He sucks her clit into his mouth, gently stroking it with his tongue while his fingers undo her from the inside, and just when she thinks she can't take anymore, he growls, the deep sound reverberating through her entire body and she finally, finally comes undone, panting beneath him in ecstasy.

Clarke isn't sure how long it takes her to regain coherence, but when she finally opens her eyes again, Bellamy face is above hers. She swears she can feel his eyes peel into her soul, and it would terrify her if it wasn't Bellamy. He tucks a curl behind her ear and smiles as he takes her top lip between his own, drawing it into his mouth then soothing it with his velvety tongue (Because of course his tongue-related talents aren't limited to oral sex…). She parts her lips, inviting him into her mouth and reels back slightly at the taste of herself before embracing the fact that, yeah, it's pretty fucking hot.

And then they just stay there, wrapped up and unhurriedly exploring each other's mouths, and she's completely captivated in the very best way by Bellamy Blake.

He finally breaks away and lifts himself up on his elbows, supporting his weight with his forearms. His eyes pore over her and he brings his hand up to stroke her cheek with the back of his fingers. "You're fucking beautiful."

Clarke knows the smile on her face reflects the serenity she feels in her soul. "You're fucking incredible."

Bellamy laughs, "Why did we wait so long to do this?"

Clarke narrows her eyes playfully, "I'm gonna go ahead and blame you, because I've fantasized about this for years."

He shakes his head, "Are we complete idiots?"

She nods, "I'm pretty sure everyone knew but us. So yeah, we're complete idiots."

She sighs in content as she wraps her legs around his. He rocks himself against her and she gasps when she feels how incredibly hard he is. She groans, "Oh my god…"

A smug smirk stretches across his lips, "I usually go by Bellamy, but whatever works…"

She smacks at his chest with a laugh, "Only you would think of yourself as a sex god."

He shrugs, "You said it, not me."

Clarke thinks about it a second, "Yeah, fine. You're a fucking sex god… " She wiggles underneath him, drawing a groan out of him, "And you're hard as fucking steel."

She shivers at Bellamy's graveled voice, "You didn't think I was done with you yet, did you?"

She's dazed when she sees the desire pooled in his eyes. "A girl can dream…"

Bellamy laughs, "Oh, I'm just getting started, Princess."

Clarke thinks yeah, she could definitely get used to "Princess" if he keeps saying it like that...

End Chapter Notes

That was just Bellamy going down on Clarke, and because it's me writing, there's no way we're all done here... It was just going to be one smut chapter to end it all, but after I hit 5K words of just Bellamy eating her out, I figured I'd break it up so I could switch to Bellamy's POV as the scene continues next chapter ;)

I guess this is part one of I don't know how many smut chapters. Because seriously, Bellamy is sex on legs for Clarke, and after so many years of denial I think they'll have plenty of vulgar things to do to each other (fluffy things, too, I'm sure). But, I won't neglect my other fic (It's my baby, also a strong-E-rated exercise in debauchery), so I can't be promising chapter-a-day updates for either one... Looking more like weekly updates I hope?

REVIEWS give me life (Because I'm pathetic like that). Seriously, though. I love hearing what you guys think. Thoughts? Favorite lines? Requests? (I love requests!) Tell me you love it? Or hate it? (Actually don't tell me that. I take these way too seriously.)

Also, if you haven't added this to your FAVORITES/FOLLOWS, please do so! (If you're enjoying this, of course) Last, but certainly not least, thank you guys so very much for reading!

[Come laugh with/at me on tumblr (MissEMarissa) while I figure out what the hell I'm doing...]