Chapter 7:

Her chest heaved as she leaned against the dry bark. According to her calculations, they would be home in four hours if they continued at the overwhelming speed her mother was pushing them. Clarke was dying from exhaustion and her legs were completely sore—she didn't know if that was from her night with Bellamy or the hike itself. Clarke's head tilted upwards as sweat dripped down her forehead towards her neck. She wanted to dump water over her skin but the action seemed frivolous. "Clarke…" Bellamy's husky voice made her heavy breathing stop altogether. Clarke noted that he was more behind her than beside her when his fingers locked around her wrist. "Looks like we have a little time to ourselves…everyone's resting…" He pulled her to the opposite side of the large tree, peeking over to make sure no one could see them.

Bellamy's lips connected with the base of her neck, his tongue darting out to assist his moist kisses. "Mmm, I think we should rest, too. For tonight, I mean."

"Why, what did you have in mind?" He pulled back only to tangle his fingers in her hair. He lightly pulled at the strands until he elicited a moan. "I'm going to figure out every part of your body, Clarke…I swear." There was something in those brown orbs that told her that he was being sincere, that he was going to worship her like long lost sacred text until they crashed and burned. He tugged again, causing her to moan again. "Oh god, that is the sexiest thing I've ever heard."

Clarke eased herself up on her toes before she wrapped a leg around Bellamy's waist. His breathing hitched as he moved into her. It was a slow push as he made eye contact with her—like he was completely amazed with every action she performed. He placed a hand on her hip, massaging her skin as he leaned down to press his lips to hers again. Her breathing was highly unsteady and her heart all but stopped when he claimed her. She slightly parted her lips for him, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he shoved her harder against the tree. "Bellamy…" She whispered shallowly, "As fun as this is, I'm really not trying to get caught on the first day."

"Right…" His tongue trailed down her neck one last time before he parted from her. He glanced in the direction of the rest of the campers before leaving her to fix herself. She thought he said something along the lines of, your ass is mine tonight, though. For once, Clarke had something to look forward to the second she returned to camp. She couldn't deny the fact that she loved having a secret. Although, if Bellamy continued to touch her whenever he pleased their secret would be exposed one way or another. Maybe they needed a distraction…relationships, possibly? No, even she knew that she was under a spell and watching Bellamy with someone else would rip her heart out. How did that even happen? How did one night cause her to lose all of her sense?

But it wasn't just one night, was it? It was multiple nights—multiple nights of planning, strategy, drunkenness, tears, fights, battles, wars, rain, heat, disasters, and death—and somehow she'd found herself under this spell. It was just sex, sure but she knew there was emotion in it. There were so many forms of emotion boiling under the surface. She stole a glance in his direction as her mother started to order everyone around. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one to notice her star-struck look. Her mother shot her a questioning glare before Clarke turned away from them entirely.

Get yourself together, dammit…

…

The camp was growing; expanding would be a better word. There were the beginnings of permanent housing erupting across the worn ground as well as temporary huts. The huts were nice, of course, but they barely kept people warm during the winter. Clarke had her own hut, which had been a fight but it worked out in her favor eventually. It wasn't that she thought she was above roommates, it was the fact that all the people that wanted to be her roommate happened to be older men with shifty eyes. She received sympathy from her friends, who either chose to bunk with their parents or their other friends, but it took one swift drop kick and the threat of castration to actually get rid of the roommate concept.

Everyone was celebrating the rain in the most common way possible. Booze. Laughter. Fire. Abby was not pleased so she limited the festivities almost immediately—the booze first because she couldn't have a bunch of drunks operating the camp. The next thing was the fire because she couldn't have people catching their tents on fire for a little party. Of course, without the booze and fire the laughter died. Most people started to feel a little down, including Clarke as she sipped on the available water and pressed into the communications pole. "Can we go to bed, now?" She asked as she felt his presence behind her. It was weird how aware she was of his body.

"Of course…" He said quietly, "Where do you want to go?"

"My place?" She offered hesitantly, "I mean, uh, I don't really care where we go as long as we're—well, you know what I'm saying, Bellamy." Her tongue moved across her lips as he started to walk away from her. She followed him towards her hut, where he patiently waited for her to unlock the door. "This is so unreal." She mumbled as she shook the door open and tossed the locking mechanism onto the floor. Bellamy rushed forward, lifting her off the ground so her legs could wrap around his center. Her fingers settled in the nap of his neck as he fought for pieces of her exposed skin. Clarke hissed when she felt his teeth against her neck. "Behave." She warned but only received a growl in response.

He tilted their bodies as he approached the bed until her back was against the fur pellet of some type of animal the grounders killed. "This feels like the most normal thing I've done in a long time." He admitted before he showered her with firm kisses. Funny, because it didn't feel normal at all—natural, but far from normal. Bellamy wasn't the making-love type but this easily felt like making love. It felt passionate rather than quick and sweaty—it felt wholly beautiful rather than a desperate version of fucking. She hated that she needed it. She hated that she wanted it. But she did not hate it.

He smoothed back her hair away from her face before she relaxed her legs, settling her heel on the backside of his knee while her other leg spread to give him a little more access. She made quick work of removing her shirt, tossing it on the ground as her fingers moved to her jeans. He helped her tug them down her legs with rough tugs, "Who said we don't work better as a team?" She joked with a half-smile. He chuckled in response before he placed a warm kiss to her navel, then up towards her bra.

Bellamy shoved his hand between her legs quite suddenly after he stopped placing random kisses on her skin. He circled her sensitive skin with his thumb, dipping one finger, then another, into her hot center. She whimpered softly because the feeling was…it was indescribable on so many levels. He kept pushing her and pushing her until she was meeting his palm with rapid movements. "Come for me, Clarke…" She watched his light pink lips as he said the words, discovering that she was aware of every detail in the hut.

She could hear her short spurts of breath echoing off of the thin walls, and she could hear his heartbeat mingling with hers even if his chest was two inches away from her own. She could feel the hot air piercing through his swollen lips against her neck. The way his fingers brought her closer and closer to her orgasm caused her head to swim. But it was the look in his eyes that caused her to falter altogether. He looked so youthful, so different in their current position. He looked like he was winning, like he was giving her the world—in a sense, he was. He looked turned on, sexy, on fire… just everything she enjoyed to see.

Clarke released with great shuddering, clenching spasms around his fingers. She wanted to punch the smirk off his lips but she couldn't find the strength. His smirk widened as he continued to massage her clit. She whimpered once more, this time louder because she'd never been pushed so far. It was a mixture of ecstasy and discomfort that she tolerated. Her hips bucked wildly until she screamed his name as a surrender. He withdrew his hand, tasting her on his fingertips before he settled beside her. After her breathing calmed but before she could feel her legs again, he pulled her to his chest. "You are by far the best…Clarke." He told her with a faint kiss on her temple, "But don't let it get to your head…"

"Mmm…" She responded sleepily, "I feel like an awful lay considering I didn't get to finish you off."

He cleared his throat nervously, "I'll get mine when you aren't functioning off a few hours of sleep…just relax. Rest. It's not like we don't have time to practice tantric sex later."

She snorted before shuffling in his hold to make herself more comfortable. "I hope it rains."

"It will."

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I honestly don't know where to go from here. I love the suggestions, though! Keep 'em coming!