No One But Me

Only Me

As soon as Bellamy throws away the shirt, he stops for a moment to absorb the vision before him. Clarke is clinging to him covered only in pants, her lips red and moist with a mark at the base of her neck that is clearly a claim of possession. He drags his gaze down on her hardened nipples, and suddenly he doesn't know whether it's time to feast on them with his mouth or to come back to kiss her.

He resumes holding her under her legs, and the contact opens another series of interesting options too. Damn, he wants so many things all at once that he doesn't know where to start.

"Bell," she whispers, distracting him immediately from his existential doubts. It's the first time someone has called him that, besides his mother and Octavia. It warms his chest to the point that he feels his lips pull into a smile. "You'll have all the time in the world for the foreplay, for now just fuck me." And there the smile dies and the heat falls way down in his body.

He let her come down with her feet on the ground, pushing her pants and panties down together, then turns her around and makes her bend forward with one hand on her head. With the other one he unbuttons his pants and gives his cock a couple of strokes to spread the precum on himself. Clarke leans both hands against the trunk to give herself a lever and spreads her legs as much as her pants around her knees allow her.

Bellamy comes up behind her, aligning his cock against her opening and pushes hard, sinking completely. The groan that comes out of Clarke's throat shoots him a pang of pleasure down his back, and he pulls back until he's almost completely out, observing with fascination his member sliding out of her.

As soon as he sees the head of his cock he stops, grabs the hair above her nape and thrusts again with momentum, pulling her head back at the same time. Clarke moans, arching her back more, and Bellamy begins to fuck her with a steady pace, trying desperately to hold off his orgasm to last long enough.

If he were to let go, it would be a matter of seconds with how tight she is and how fucking gorgeous she looks like that, but the details are constantly threatening to make him lose his mind: Clarke's voice distorted by the pleasure he's giving her, the way she pushes against him asking for more, that beautiful skin he can finally touch, the hair in his fist he now knows is exactly as soft as it looks, her wonderfully tight pussy that he had already found wet for him.

He would never be able to last long enough for this round.

A low moan escapes her and Clarke tightens against his cock, immediately coaxing a groan from the bottom of his throat. "Shit, Clarke-" he chokes, breathing heavily.

Clarke's only answer is a wordless whine as she sways more sinuously against him, changing the pressure he's feeling on his entire length.

"We'll have time for slower things, Bell. I want you too much right now. "

Bellamy leaves her hair and grabs her hip instead, while his other hand goes at the base of his cock and he pushes it down, thereby changing the angle and pointing directly at that magical bundle of nerves inside her.

Clarke's reaction is immediate and she straightens up, pressing against him with all her back and offering her mark to his lips. She doesn't have to ask him twice and he bites with the same violence as before, walking forward until she's again against the bark, so that with every thrust her nipples will rub against the rough surface.

He increases the pace and Clarke's moans becomes a continuous melody, punctuated by occasional "Oh, Bell-"s, and the latest "Yeah, right there!"

It won't be the longest fuck of his life, but he certainly won't come without giving her a nice ride first.

"Bell, please!" She pleads. After passing the initial period of hypersensitivity, he's now finally starting to have more control. In a bit he'll be able to make it last as much as he want.

"What, princess? Tell me."

Clarke takes a few seconds to respond, probably because she has never been forced to be so honest and vulnerable. Bellamy gives her time to think about it, focusing on hitting her g-spot with every thrust, going back to torturing her purplish lovebite.

"I want to feel you come inside me." She confesses at the end, turning her face slightly towards him.

Bellamy looks at her from under his eyelashes, without stopping the suction at the base of her neck, and exhales forcefully, before slowing down his thrusts to regain sensitivity. Clarke instinctively clenches around him, thus giving him a delicious friction to use.

Without warning, Bellamy begins to fuck her harder, cutting the length of his thrusts but gaining in speed, and Clarke's muscles contracts in what has to be a pretty nice spasm, if her sudden silence is anything to go by.

The hand that is gripping her hip will probably leave a mark, but in that moment he can't bring himself to care.

With his thumb sideways across his cock he keeps it in the correct angle, while the rest of his fingers brush his balls, adding a whole new set of sensations.

He lets out one last moan as he feels the wave of the orgasm approaching, then finally the pressure in his back snaps and he begins to come inside her.

Clarke stands still and relaxed as Bellamy loses rhythm and rides the last tremors of his orgasms. Hearing the mad thudding of his heart in his ears, he sighs and eventually pulls out, mirroring the lament uttered by Clarke as soon as his cock leaves her.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks, worried about her silence. He strokes her bare back, now covered with a thin layer of sweat.

Clarke turns to him, lifting her underwear and pants which were planted at mid-thigh, murmuring a "Ugh, I really need to wash." She has an angry red line across her thighs, from where her clothes had digged into her skin. Looking down at her body he notices the marks of his fingers against her side, her nipples swollen and reddened from the friction against the tree, the huge bite at the base of her neck. Bellamy almost gets another hard on just by looking at her.

"What did you say to that guy?" Clarke asks, watching him as if she were in doubt about what to do. In the end she takes a deep breath and puts her arms around his neck, kissing him languidly. Bellamy waits for her to stop before replying, having no intention whatsoever of ceasing the sweet contact.

Eventually she does and he sighs, already missing her mouth on him.

"I told him that you were mine, and I illustrated the concept with a very graphic death threat."

Clarke chuckles, seemingly satisfied, and Bellamy thinks he has never seen her being more beautiful than she is now.

"Well said." She answers, then rewards him with the kiss he was longing for.