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Bellamy and Clarke are on their way to trade with the Glowing Forest Clan and making terrible time.
It's because it's hot and Clarke's wearing shorts and a tank top and Bellamy took his shirt off an hour ago and his pants are hanging loosely on his hips, inching down with every step, heavy from the gun and hatchet hanging from his belt. They keep stopping, Clarke first, to tie her shirt up under her breasts, desperate for any small breeze to drift over her burning skin. Bellamy stares at the dip of her waist and almost reaches out to smooth his hand over her warm skin but the last time he touched her they’d ended up making out and losing nearly an hour of daylight. So he resists, not without effort.
Then Bellamy stops to empty his canteen over his head. The water runs down his face and neck; little drops get caught in his eyelashes and Clarke swipes them away, licks the wetness off her thumb.
He watches her with a smile she’s learned to recognize easily over the last week. He swallows and Clarke takes a step away when he moves to touch her.
“Don’t even think about it. We’ve lost too much time already,” she tells him but she’s so into him it’s stupid and she’s grinning like she wants him to chase her as she takes another step back.
His laugh is deep, throaty, the one he uses in bed, when she’s teasing him. “Clarke, you can’t do shit like that and expect me not to think about it.”
“Whatever,” she says, “you’re always thinking about it.”
He raises his eyebrows, a challenge, a call-out. She’s no better than him but it’s not her fault. It’s his, entirely. Since the moment he touched her, really touched her, and known her and loved her, she’s been lost to him.
Now all he has to do is say her name or brush his knuckles across her cheek or look at her the way he’s looking at her now and…well…
“Can’t help it,” he says softly, his eyes lingering on every inch of her. She breathes deep. That stare, it’s like he’s already touching her.
“We’re gonna be so late.”
He smiles as he walks over to her, unlatching and dropping his belt, backing her up against a tree and leaning over her, pressing his forearms into the tree above her head. She has to tip her head back to look him in the eyes, his dirty, hungry eyes. She shudders, a little desperate for his hands and his lips and basically any part of him to just touch her. He bends down like he’s going to kiss her and then leans away at the last second to blow cool air on her neck up to her ear. She starts messing with his button and zipper and he doesn’t stop her but he doesn’t help either, just continues to breathe gently into her skin. Her chin bumps his head as he shifts lower and blows cool air on her flushed chest, into her cleavage.
“Bellamy,” she groans and he chuckles.
He loves her and wants her, she knows this, but he’s still Bellamy Blake and he likes to drive her mad and he’s a little too good at it.
“I hate you,” Clarke declares flatly as he finally, finally, kisses her ear, biting gently on the shell. He drags his mouth over her cheekbone, flicks his tongue against the corner of her mouth.
“I love this little freckle,” he says before licking it again. He mouths at her jaw, bites her chin, “and this,” he kisses her nose, “might be my favorite.” He nuzzles her temple, inhales the fresh scent of her hair. “I love you,” he breathes against her cheek.
“Damn it, Bellamy,” Clarke groans as she stomps her foot, “kiss me, you insufferable asshole!”
He’s chuckling when he finally licks into her mouth and his hands grip her shoulders to pull her flush against him. She whimpers at the sudden full on contact as he palms her ass and grinds himself into her thigh. It’s hot and he’s hot and it’s all a little much. She’s panting when he pulls away to kiss her neck. His hair is sweaty when she runs her fingers through it. His licks down her chest, nipping at her collarbone and rubbing the light stubble on his face into her the tops of her breasts.
Clarke tries to get at his pants again but he bats her hands away and drops to his knees. He bites at the soft flesh of her stomach as he opens her pants and drags them down her legs. She steps out of one leg and nearly loses her balance when he breathes out hot and fast against her cunt. Her panties are already wet when he bites at them and pulls them down with his teeth.
He guides her leg over his shoulder, spreading her open to his eager tongue. She has to grab the tree behind her to steady herself as Bellamy mouths at her, licking soft and quick at her swollen lips. She has to keep looking away, the sight of him working between her thighs a bit overwhelming. She presses back against the tree trunk and he reaches up for her hand to lace their fingers together. He breathes in deeply and lets out another long gust of hot air on her aching cunt. “Fuck…Bellamy,” she moans desperately. He guides their hands down her stomach and starts rubbing tight circles into her clit, her wet arousal slicking their fingers. Her thigh’s trembling where it’s resting on his shoulder and he shifts up a little to give her more stability before fucking his tongue inside her. She bows over him as far as she can, grips the hair at the base of his neck and pushes his face closer to her.
A noise sounds overhead, some skittering creature and Clarke is suddenly laughing as Bellamy brings her over the edge.
Gentling his motions, Bellamy looks up at her, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “You okay?”
She lets her knees buckle, still breathless with laughter and her abating orgasm, knowing Bellamy will catch her and he does. He lifts her up and she wraps her legs around his waist, digs her face into his neck. “I can’t remember the last time I was this happy,” she whispers into his skin.
He’s grinning hugely, looking like a total dork with his hair is sticking to his forehead, dimples digging deep into his cheeks. “How happy?”
“Delirious. So ecstatically elated that I just let you eat me out in an open, exposed, potentially dangerous setting.” She pecks his mouth, still wet from her. “Stupid happy.”
Bellamy’s just staring at her, with something like adoration and wonder, when she opens his pants and her hand delves inside. She fingers the tip of his hard cock and he huffs into her mouth.
“Clarke, we should probably…you don’t have to-“
“Shut up, let me make you deliriously happy, too.” She fists his cock, stroking him in a slow, building rhythm and he kisses between her eyebrows.
“You already have.”