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Clarke downed another shot when Jasper sunk his ball, her throat burning. Raven was her partner this time, and while they were winning, Raven announced that she had to drive home, leaving Clarke to take all of the shots.

Her head was hazy as finally, they won the game. "I'm out," Clarke laughed. "I'm fucking drunk."

"Alright, alright," Raven agreed. "Its already midnight anyways, I'm going to round up everyone."

Clarke started cleaning the table off a little, dumping the extra drinks down the sink. Bellamy was in the kitchen, putting the unopened bottles of beer back in the refrigerator.

"Hey, is it still okay if I crash here?" She asked him.

He shrugged. "Whatever you want, Princess."

Clarke rolled her eyes. He was always such a dick. She took the last two shots from the table and decided 'fuck it,' tossing them back.

She stayed outside for a little bit, honestly worried that she would trip or do something stupid that Bellamy would never let her live down.

But, when he turned off the porch light, she managed to get inside and to use the restroom. She really should shower, Octavia had spilled on her shorts earlier. With a shrug, she pushed the shorts down her legs and held them in her hand.

She could just toss them in the wash and borrow something from Octavia. Clarke pushed open the door down the hallway, walking in and opening a drawer. "Oh," she said as Bellamy rolled over. "I thought I was going to Octavia's room," she giggled.

"Why aren't you wearing pants?" He asked.

"Octavia spilled earlier so I was just going to borrow something, but I ended up in your room." Her feet made her move towards him, sighing as she laid at the end of the bed.

"Okay, you're even more drunk than me. You need to go to Octavia's room now," he sighed. Walking to her, he leaned over her and grabbed her hands. Clarke interlocked her fingers with his. He tugged, trying to lift her, but she resisted, raising her arms and forcing him to lean farther over her. "What the?"

Clarke wrapped her legs around his waist and held tight. She let go of his hands and slid them down his arms. She felt the goosebumps on his skin that matched hers.

"Clarke," he warned, his breath shallow. What are you doing?"

She leaned up, licking his neck. "Mm," she moaned as did, too. "Just wanting a taste."

He rolled over, sliding up with Clarke on top of him. She slid down from his hard abdomen, resting herself gently on his even harder dick. She slid her hands up his chest, pushing his shirt up. He sat up and tugged it off completely, tossing onto the floor with her dropped shorts.

"You remember that you hate me, don't you?" He whispered against her skin, kissing her throat.

"Of course," she panted, arching her back and pressing herself to his chest. "But, I also remember how much I want you!" She squealed as he bit her below her ear.

He pulled her shirt off of her and took her bra off, tossing them both across the room. His hot, rough hands cupped her breasts that swole for him. Clarke arched into his touch, moving her hips against his through his thin shorts.

"Oh, shit," he gripped her hips, sucking gently on her neck.

Clarke slid her hands into his hair, tugging gently to make him look at her. "The pants have to go," she demanded.

She rolled off of him, watching in awe as he lost the shorts and boxers. She swallowed thickly, nervous, even as turned on as she was.

She watched him reach into his drawer for a condom and turn back to her. He tugged her ankles pulling her flat on her back. He tugged her panties down her legs, his finger tips burning her skin.

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