pretty fixation, wicked temptation | b. blake
masterlist
summary: season six - one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep made both you and bellamy crave each other’s touch, but you need a place to satisfy your urges without disruption. perhaps a new planet would do the trick. and what better way to heighten the anticipation than with a little challenge?
warnings: porn with plot, sexual crying??, teasing/taunting, mild gore, mild exhibitionism, murphy being a cockblock, mild size kink, mild bdsm, begging
note: this is the first one-shot/smut I’ve ever written so I kinda went overboard, but I promise it’s worth it in the end. you can imagine a different season of bellamy if you want (fuck you) but I personally think he’s extremely hot in season 6.
word count: 16.7k
“…I hope your lives there will be as happy as mine has been,” an aged Monty spoke on the monitor. “Be the good guys. May we meet again.”
You stared out the window of Eligius IV in awe, arms crossed over your chest whilst taking in the view of the planet you would soon call home. Plant Alpha. A place where, hopefully, everyone could find redemption. For you, it would be a place where you would find peace with your friends and family. And your boyfriend, Bellamy Blake.
“I know this is a lot to process,” Bellamy’s deep voice spoke to the group. “Take an hour, and then meet in the mess. We need to game this out.”
A few people in the room had a short dispute, but you tuned out their bickering, gaze locked on the view outside. Everyone began to disperse, leaving the room to gather their thoughts about what the future held for the last remnants of humanity. Everyone but you and Bellamy.
Your vision shifted from focusing on Planet Alpha to watching Bellamy walk towards you in the window’s reflection. He had changed drastically since the day you and the other Ark prisoners were sent to the ground. His body was broader, and more muscular due to the unrelenting battles he fought on Earth. His arms were bigger, stronger, and probably capable of carrying the weight of two people at once. And his hands, god, his hands—they were your ultimate weakness. They were much bigger compared to your own; his fingers were thicker and longer as well, and the things he could do with them… indescribable.
He now had a short, dark beard that circled his mouth and sparsely covered the sides of his jaw. You always loved the way it tickled your face whenever he kissed you and when it rubbed against your inner thighs whilst he went down on you.
What had changed the most was his mentality, which somehow made you fall even deeper in love with him. Bellamy Blake may have been twenty-three when you first met him, but he was then still just a boy. Now, he was a man.
“You okay?” he asked, his arm snaking around your waist as his towering frame stood beside you.
Leaning into his body, you both soaked in the rays of the two suns shining through the ship’s window.
“Just hoping we don’t make the same mistakes we did back on Earth,” you spoke. “There are a lot of people on this ship in need of a second chance.”
Bellamy chuckled. “Yeah. More like a fifth chance.”
You smiled, humming in agreement.
“This time will be different,” he continued, eyes narrowed at the planet in front of them. “We can’t keep making the same mistakes without learning from them. We won’t have bombs, or missiles, or war. I’ll make sure of it; if not for the last of humanity, then for you.”
You turned your head to look at him. Such a softie.
“I ever tell you how much I love you?” You reached one of your crossed arms across your torso and rested it on his which was cupping your waist.
In response, Bellamy’s hold tightened just a little bit more, causing your heart to fumble from the affectionate gesture. “On a few occasions.”
However short the one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep felt to your mind, your body could feel the effects of lacking physical touch for such a long time. Bellamy’s touch. Apparently, he felt the exact same way.
“I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in over a century.” His voice became soft. He turned your body to face him with his back now facing the window. Dark brown eyes gazed down at you with an intensity only he could create, sending a sudden desire to let him absolutely ravage you right where you stood. His free hand reached up to your face and gently stroked the side of your cheek, the other now caressing the exposed skin of your waist. “Or touched you.”
Closing your eyes, you focused on the areas in which his skin connected with yours. Having been in a relationship with him for a few years, his touch became a familiar sensation. Despite that, on a purely physical level, your body had forgotten the pleasure-filled heights to which he could take you. Everything seemed new again, like the very first time he touched you.
And no matter the fact that time in cryosleep seemed like it passed instantaneously, neither of you could deny the obvious pining your bodies felt for one another.
You stepped closer, hands moving to rest on his chest. The distance between your bodies closed and you whispered, “Or felt me.”
His hands stilled, realising what you had meant. He leaned backwards, enough to get a good view of the look in your eyes. It was something deep and hungry for release. Sure, you’ve both had sex plenty of times; you’ve fucked rough and fast, made love sweet and slow—however many other variations there were, you’d done it—but Bellamy had never seen your desire for him appear as powerful as this.
Your eyes were swirling with a dark passion, like rolling waves in desperate need of a crest. Your cheeks were flushed, pupils so dilated your irises were almost obscured, and lips reddened and becoming plump even despite having made no contact with his own yet. It was no doubt a mirror of what you were feeling inside.
He took in a long deep breath, eyebrows furrowed as he took in your appearance, trying to steady his heartbeat which was raging out of control. You looked so beautiful. All the blood in his body drained to the lower half of him, leaving him light-headed and fuzzy, lust being the only thing to fill the contents of his mind. Bellamy could never stop lusting after you, he had just learned to control it. A one-hundred-year wait seemed like a perfectly acceptable reason to let loose a little.
“Fuck,” was all he said before his lips came crashing down onto yours.
It didn’t start slow, but rather fast and desperate. So desperate. Even so, your mouth moved in sync with his, alternating between sucking in quick breaths of air, kissing his soft yet rough lips, and allowing him to run his tongue over your own. Your hands moved up into his pushed-back hair, fingers delving between his brown waves to give a small tug, pulling a groan from inside him that buzzed against your lips.
He pulled you closer to his body with strong arms wrapped around your back, the sensitivity between your thighs coming into contact with his hardness. The material of your pants rubbing against you only enhanced the shiver-inducing sensation.
You reigned your focus back onto his lips. His mouth was hot against yours, unrelenting, catching your lips with his between each frantic breath of air. His tongue rolled over your own, so intricate and possessive as it pushed into your mouth.
Before you knew it, his hands had moved to the backs of your thighs and lifted you into his arms; your lips never disconnected. This was a movement you had both performed many times, so it wasn’t done without skill. He took a few steps forward before placing you on the control bench behind you. You hoped there were no important buttons beneath you that would cause End of Humanity 4.0.
His mouth moved from yours and down to your jaw, cupping his hand on the side of your neck to keep your head steady. You couldn’t tell if it was a moan or a sigh that escaped you. Maybe it was a mix of both, but whatever it was, it egged him on further. He had moved down to your neck, sucking and nipping at the soft, delicate skin. This time you were sure it was a moan you let out.
He curled his hand around your neck just below your jaw, careful not to apply too much pressure, but just enough to remain in control. He loved to be in control; he also knew how much you enjoyed it too. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him, how he could dominate you without an ounce of effort.
Your legs and his were in between one another like two puzzle pieces fit together, his knee between your thighs and pressing against your clit without him even realising it. Grabbing onto his shoulders for support, you pushed yourself further onto his knee, beginning to grind yourself against him as he continued to press kisses to your neck.
“Eager, huh?” his voice vibrated against your skin.
Now he knew.
Having realised what you were doing, he pushed further onto you, heightening the pressure as you rolled your hips against him. Your head fell back. It had been so long since your body had experienced such pleasure; you knew it wouldn’t take much to reach climax. Not that it mattered. It always took you both a few rounds before you were too exhausted to move anymore. Sometimes, even fatigue couldn’t stop you two.
After deciding enough damage was done to your neck, he returned to your mouth, this time slower and more sensual.
You could have easily come undone the way you were going, grinding yourself against him but knew it would be nothing compared to the release given by his hands. Greedy as you were, you wanted—needed—more, and you knew he would never deny such a request. Your satisfaction was his own after all.
“Bellamy,” you breathed against his lips. “Touch me.”
His forehead came to rest against your own, he too breathless from the heat of the situation.
“Didn’t know you were into exhibitionism, princess,” he spoke lowly with a smirk.
“Who said I was?”
“Well, technically, we have a whole world watching us.”
You rolled your eyes, a playful grin stretching across your lips only to be intersected by a short gasp as you felt his hand slip through the waistband of your pants and press against your clit.
The second you felt his fingers apply pressure and begin to move, the door to the room burst open.
“Hey, you guys need… Jesus Christ!”
Bellamy’s hand left you quicker than it came, or quicker than you came to be more exact. The both of you jumped up from your positions and turned to see Murphy standing at the door, eyes squeezed shut.
“You ever heard of knocking, Murphy,” Bellamy grumbled.
“It’s the fucking comms room!” he complained. “Just–we need you guys out in the mess hall. Now. Oh my god.”
He made quick work of leaving the room, mumbling something about rather having a missile dropped on him than ever having to witness that again.
You looked at Bellamy who seemed to share the same flustered state as you.
He blew out a stabilising breath and placed a hand behind your back. “Come on, we should see what they want.”
Still slightly trembling, you nodded, allowing him to guide the both of you out of the room as you attempted to fix your dishevelled hair. After walking together down a few hallways in tense silence, you both reached the mess hall to see the group sitting around a table, discussing something quietly among themselves. Among them was Murphy, who overdramatically shuddered at the sight of you two.
Before you could walk over, Bellamy grabbed your upper arm, leaning down until his hair brushed against your temple and he whispered, “I’m not done with you.”
He slid past you and walked towards everyone else, acting casual as they all burst into conversation. A minute or two passed until you had regained enough composure to join the group.
**********
It had been about two hours since the incident in the comms room. A plan had been set in place regarding their journey to the ground. One minute, you were safe and sound on Eligius IV, and the next, you and a small group were descending into the atmosphere of Planet Alpha in a ship.
There was a giant, wall-length window on the front of the ship that revealed the outside surroundings once you dipped below the clouds. This world was… otherworldly. Literally. The largest sun bathed the world in a constant orange glow, and the surface was covered in an abundance of vibrant green trees that sat atop various hills and rocky snow-covered mountains. All the clouds were a light orange; the sky was more pink and orange than blue. It was like they had entered a landscape painting depicting heaven.
Everyone seemed to share the same look of astonishment.
Shaw turned in his seat to face everyone. “Boys and girls, meet Planet Alpha.”
With a shudder, the ship finally planted itself on the ground, the machine hum cutting off as the rockets stopped firing. Belt buckles clicked as everybody stood from their seats, moving in front of the door, awaiting its opening. You looked beside you to see Bellamy with that same tiny grin he had the first time they opened the dropship doors. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. Technically, it was well over a lifetime ago.
He pulled down the lever and the door began to fall open. A gust of breathable fresh air wafted in your face and you inhaled deeply. It was sweet and unpolluted. Everyone remained still as they took in the incredible scenery. There were no words to describe it.
“Anyone got anything better than ‘we’re back bitches’?” Miller jested.
“Yeah,” you spoke. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.”
There were a few chuckles, a few sentimental words exchanged, along with a few heated words spoken between Shaw and Clarke. Some people were still upset over her betrayal back on Earth. What they were yet to realise was that this was not Earth, this was someplace new, a place for second chances and new beginnings.
They were supposed to be looking for a beacon that depicted a safe place for them to take up residence. Shaw, along with his tracking device, began heading in the beacon’s direction and soon enough everyone else followed suit.
You took a few moments for yourself to take in the surroundings and silently thank Monty and Harper for their sacrifice. A bittersweet smile sat on your lips and a single tear slipped down your cheek. A Garden of Eden this was, and they’d be damned if they let another serpent in.
Without even realising it, Bellamy had stood beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulder before pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.
“We’ll do better this time,” he reassured as if he could read your mind.
You turned your head and pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder.
His eyes crinkled as a soft smile grew on his lips. “Come on, let's catch up to the others.”
And so, you did.
Following Bellamy until you caught up with the rest of the group, you began the journey to the beacon, trekking through the new and undisturbed forest. Though it was beautiful, you still had a lingering fear of what might lurking in the thick clusters of trees. Maybe there were Grounders here too. At least they were human beings with actual consciences. This was an entirely new planet in an entirely new solar system so there could be animals or beings they had never encountered before.
All you could do was pray you weren’t on the bottom of the food chain.
An hour or two passed before the forest began to thin out and give way to a lake of pristine blue water surrounded by overlooking mountains.
“Looks like we found a water source,” Bellamy spoke as they stepped onto the tan sand. “We’ll camp here tonight and continue on at first light.”
They were confronted wave after wave with the planet’s beauty without end. It almost seemed too perfect. As everyone was distracted by the new view, Murphy began walking towards the water, removing a piece of clothing with each step, completely disregarding the fact that he had healing bullet holes on his body.
You stepped forward to stop him just as the others did. “Murphy, wait, your–”
He glanced back at you, cutting your sentence off. “Comms room!”
That shut you up, as well as causing your face to redden intensely.
Clarke stepped beside you, watching as Murphy took off his shirt and stepped into the water, diving beneath the surface. “What was that about?”
“Uh, nothing.” You side-eyed Bellamy who was shifting his weight, clearly uncomfortable.
Soon enough, Murphy had resurfaced, his wounds bleeding and turning the water around him a faint rust colour. Not that he cared.
“Come on in, the water’s fine!” he shouted.
Emori was next to enter the water, though not entirely at her own will. It was nice to see her and Murphy enjoying themselves, but who said they could have all the fun?
Without a second thought, you unclipped your backpack and dropped it to the ground, tying your hair into a low bun with the band on your wrist. You lifted your long-sleeve shirt over your head, leaving you only in your low-cut tank top. You had thought it would have been Bellamy who was first to notice, except it was Clarke whose eyes were now trained on your chest.
Brows raised, you motioned to your eyes with two fingers. “Eyes up here, Clarke.”
She cleared her throat and mumbled an apology, focusing back on Emori and Murphy.
You walked over to Bellamy, standing beside him as he watched the scene in front of him. His attention quickly shifted to you as your hip brushed against his hand.
“What d’you say, Blake?” You unbuttoned your jeans, pushing them down to your ankles and stepping out. “Up for a swim?”
His lips parted as he stared down at your half-naked figure. Before he had a chance to answer, you were making your way down to the water with a tantalising grin. You were nothing if not a tease and he knew that firsthand. A little extra sway in your hips was all it took for him to start removing his own backpack and undressing his upper body.
The water had reached up to your hips before a pair of hands abruptly grabbed onto your waist. A short shriek escaped your throat before you were tackled beneath the water. Resurfacing, you wiped the water from your eyes, coming face-to-face with an amused Bellamy.
“Asshole!” You attempted to push his chest, but he didn’t budge, instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist again and began dragging you both further out.
“So easily riled up,” he teased with a smirk.
Sighing defeatedly, you leaned into his grasp, allowing him to keep you both afloat. Bellamy could just touch the lake floor, so you knew if he let you go, you would be drowning. Swimming wasn’t exactly anyone’s strong suit, so you just hoped you hadn’t done anything previously to piss him off.
Your legs curled around his torso. At first, the action was innocent, but then you realised that the little performance you made on the beach had consequences. Hard consequences that he seemed to be very aware of. Eyes blown wide with surprise, you squeezed your legs around his hips, grounding yourself onto him.
He grunted softly, tightening his hold on you. “You do that again and I won’t care if everyone is watching.”
The deep sense of possession enveloped in his voice sent warm tingles running down your spine, replacing the coldness of the water surrounding your body. Knowing him, he probably wasn’t lying either, especially given both of your rising desires for each other. For a split second, you were ready to test the legitimacy of his threat, but rationality was quick to jump in.
As you loosened your hold around him, you were unsure whether the look he gave you was of praise or displeasure. If you couldn’t do that, then you would at least take advantage of the opportunity for another type of intimacy.
Placing a hand on either side of his jaw, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his which he was quick to reciprocate. Droplets of fresh water dripped from the wet strands across his forehead, mixing between your skin and his, and alleviating the heat of each other’s desire.
His hands ran up and down your back underneath your saturated tank top, leaving a trail of warmth in his wake. Over and over, you kissed him and then you’d take a split second to get some air. It quickly became a pattern yet each time your lips met became more and more exhilarating.
The moment was rapidly becoming more fervent with each passing second. Soon enough, you were clinging onto each other, the water rippling from your bodies moving ever-so-slightly against one another to create some kind of friction. You could hear Bellamy’s breathing become quick and uneven, just like your own. You could feel his tongue glide across your bottom lip as if to knock before entering. And just before you could let him in, you were pulled apart…
“Hey. Hey! None of that shit,” Murphy demanded from a distance.
Bellamy pulled away first, visibly frustrated as he turned his head to your interrupter.
You simply pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned, one hand still holding onto his shoulder.
“Shut up, Murphy!” you and Bellamy shouted in unison.
Even Emori was quick to come to your aid. “Come on, John, they were just kissing.”
“You haven’t seen the things I’ve seen,” you heard him murmur to her.
**********
The sky was blanketed in darkness long after the two suns dipped below the horizon. Insects were chirping, a small fire was crackling in the centre of the group, and tiny waves were cresting on the shore. You were leaning against a log of driftwood, legs extended in front of you as you gazed at the giant, ringed planet in the sky, its purple and pink hue reflecting on the lake’s surface.
Peace. Or so it would have been if not for the chaos running rampant in your mind.
Bellamy’s lips. Bellamy’s hands. Bellamy’s fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut. Bellamy, Bellamy, Bellamy–
A loud pop from the fire sounded which startled you from your thoughts.
Opening your eyes, you looked around the camp. Everybody else seemed to be in their own little worlds too, unable to shake the incredulity of knowing they were now on an alien planet. Clarke was on her back, gazing up at the foreign sky above; Jackson was enthusing about the unfamiliar wildlife. Echo simply admired the tall mountains that encompassed the lake, an expression of gratitude reflecting on her face. You would feel the same way too if your hormones weren’t raging like that of a teenage boy’s.
To add fuel to the fire—quite literally—Bellamy was bent over the flames, cyan blue sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and feeding more wood to the blaze. His dark curls were pushed back from his face apart from a few stray strands. His skin was shining from the humidity, sending your mind spiralling into a visualisation of the times he was on top of you, all sweaty and hitting that eye-rolling spot inside of you over and over.
You sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. This was ridiculous; he was your boyfriend and yet every time he was near, your body responded to him like a schoolgirl with a crush.
“Something on your mind?”
He had sat down beside you, your shoulders now pushed up against one another.
More like ‘someone’, you thought.
“Nope.” You crossed your legs over one another, thighs squeezing together in the hopes of providing some kind of relief. You couldn’t even bear to look at him, afraid that your willpower would come crumbling to ruins. “No thoughts up here.”
Bellamy eyed your visibly flustered state, one cocky eyebrow raised.
His hand moved onto your leg. “Liar. I know your tells. And this,” he murmured whilst squeezing the inner plush of your thigh, “is one of them.”
Finally, your gaze met his, almost like you were in a standoff. He knew how much you were suffering. Mostly because he was too.
“Bellamy,” you warned.
He turned back to the fire, slowly kneading your inner thigh. “I’ve been thinking…”
“Uh oh.”
The flickering flames reflecting in his dark brown irises turned them a blazing orange but did nothing to alleviate the darkness that was sitting just behind his eyes. Taunting him probably wasn’t the brightest idea at that moment.
Then again, it also held the potential to be a fantastic idea. You knew how he got when pushed to his limits.
“Seems like we can’t go five minutes without being interrupted,” he began, curling his hand around your thigh. “So, I figured we may as well turn it into a challenge.”
“A challenge?” you asked, moving your hand on top of his and taking control.
He nodded.
Slowly, you began to guide his hand further up your thigh, inch by inch. As expected, he showed no resistance. You could even see the imprint on the front of his pants which were now tight for the third time that day. “And what exactly does this challenge involve?”
As you got closer to the destination you craved most, your movements became slower, and more delayed, contrasting to the increasing pace of your chest rising and falling. Your shoulders pushed back against the driftwood, your body reclining just a tiny bit further as you stared up at him, lips parted.
Bellamy watched his hand travel beneath your own, completely transfixed. “We, uh, see who can last longer without…” he trailed off as your thighs clamped tighter around him.
The side of his hand brushed against your clit through the material of your pants and your breath hitched. Thank god everyone else was too distracted to notice the situation unfolding before them. The fire was probably doing you both some favours as well.
“Without…?” you coaxed him on.
You pressed him firmer against you, rolling your hips in small circles to create the sensation you’d been longing for. He didn’t move, only allowing you to use him for your own pleasure. The muscles in your stomach flexed as tingles quickly spread across the lower half of your body, from your toes to beneath Bellamy’s hand. You’d give anything to let him give you your release then and there, but you knew an audience wasn’t exactly favourable.
That didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the build-up.
God, Bellamy was right. You really were into exhibitionism.
By the way his brows were pulled together and his eyes looked almost pained, you swore he was about to come undone just at the sight of you.
He clenched his jaw and managed to ground out, “Without touching each other.”
Your eyes flickered between his, showing no sign of stopping your movements even when he finally managed to get out his explanation. You slightly bucked your hips forward, pulling him in further to which he inhaled sharply. Truth be told, Bellamy was the most stubborn person you had ever met, excluding his sister, Octavia. But there was one thing that could overrule Bellamy’s unwavering resolve, and that was you. Hell, on multiple occasions all you had to do was ask and he would be on his knees, mouth between your thighs in the blink of an eye, so he should have known the minute he announced his little game, you had already won.
“Okay,” you whispered with an innocent smile.
Within seconds, you had shot up onto your feet, now hovering over him.
Instinctively, he too moved into a standing position as if under threat. He stood so close that your torso was nearly touching his.
“What are you doing?” He leaned in close, voice low to prevent attracting any attention from the others.
“Um, winning?”
He scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’ve gone over a century without you; I can last a little longer.”
You took one step closer until you were flush against him. How could you not? It’s not like he’d expect you to make it easy on him.
“Only a little? Oh, come on Blake, have a bit of faith in yourself. You can last longer than that.” You looked him up and down. “I would know.”
He peered down at you, eyes half-lidded, and hummed a chuckle, one that was meant to say, ‘You are in way over your head, princess’. Maybe you were or maybe he was. What you both knew for sure was how the game was going to end, and despite your determination to win, that moment couldn’t come soon enough.
His body left yours and he backed away, a smug smirk resting on his face. He retreated over to Murphy and Emori, sitting on the log beside them and began engaging in their conversation.
You turned to face the fire, letting out a shaky breath you were hoping he couldn’t hear. It had become quiet now, the surrounding area seemed different compared to just a few minutes prior, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. The small waves were still rolling onto the shore; the campfire was still crackling.
Something was missing.
You scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing.
“Ow!”
Your eyes snapped to the sudden voice. Clarke was sitting on a plank of wood, rubbing the back of her neck with her brows furrowed together.
Walking over, you sat on a log adjacent to her. “What happened?”
“Oh, just got bit by a bug.” She gestured to the dead insect lying on the wood beside her.
It had big, round eyes, and wings like a fly. Wouldn’t have been a cause for concern if it weren’t the size of your palm and had a tail like a scorpion.
“Some bug.”
That’s when you realised—all the insects had stopped chirping.
Almost on command, Jackson and Miller stumbled over to the campfire, gaining everyone’s attention as Jackson rambled on about how he had captured the same bug in a glass jar and its behaviour had randomly become erratic. People began rising from their seats and crowding to watch the insect smash itself against the glass. Clarke and you shared a concerned look.
The air, which once was silent and peaceful, began to buzz like you were all surrounded by a cluster of beehives. Reality was much worse.
“What the hell is that?” Emori spoke.
As if to answer her question, the sky suddenly filled with hundreds, no, thousands of winged insects, which seemed to follow each other in groups that formed large patterns in the air. You were willing to bet your life on them being the same as the one that bit Clarke. Great—man-eating bugs.
“Swarm.”
“Everybody cover up! We’re heading to the beacon now!” Bellamy commanded.
You snatched your backpack from the ground, pulling out a black cotton scarf before slinging the bag straps over your shoulders. Not long passed before the others did the same and you were all running for your lives through the dense thicket of trees. Branches snagged on your clothes, shredding them to bits as you struggled not to run face-first into a tree. You wouldn’t be the first to do it, though…. Murphy.
Your breathing was becoming irregular as your body pushed to its limits. As awful as it sounded, when Emori tripped over a fallen branch and the group had to stop and help her, you praised the lord. Everyone huddled together, the bugs now surrounding the group, flying past and leaving bite marks on your bodies. Luckily, Clarke had the idea to light a flare.
“They hate fire! Light the flares!” she shouted.
Someone came running toward you from where Emori had tripped, placing a hand on each of your upper arms. Upon seeing their eyes, you knew it was Bellamy. He wordlessly scanned your features for any wounds, his gaze a mixture of concentration and worry. You nodded as if to tell him you were alright, and he did the same.
After the ten seconds you were provided to catch your breath passed, you were on the move again, the flares now protecting the group from the swarm. The trees were becoming less and less, and the ground under your feet had turned into a wide gravel path that ended at a large field of crops surrounded by metal rod towers.
You continued running forward, following the others as the field grew closer. In front was Shaw, who was multi-tasking between tracking the beacon on his device and leading the group to safety.
“Here! The beacon’s here!” he shouted.
Just as he passed through the towers that bordered the crop field, a bolt of what looked like lightning struck him. He was sent flying back into the group with a yell, landing at your feet.
“Shaw!” You crouched down, observing the minor burns that were littered across his cheeks and forehead.
He groaned, pulling himself back onto his feet with your assistance. “I’m alright.”
Jackson rushed to his side, immediately pulling out his med pack and assessing his wounds. The damage wasn’t lethal but if they couldn’t find a way to get through to the other side, they would have more to be worried about than burnt flesh.
Clarke was already searching for an answer to their escape and once again, she found it.
“It’s radiation.” She looked around as the bugs began to circle them, blocking their long-distance view. “We need to get through. It won’t affect me.”
Before anyone could stop her, she was running through the shield-like fence.
“Clarke, wait!”
“Get back here!”
To everyone’s surprise, she made it out the other side without a scratch. But how was everyone else supposed to get through without Nightblood?
You felt a warm hand slip into your own, offering a small amount of comfort. You didn’t need to look to know whose it belonged.
“Clarke, the tower—its Eligius tech. You need the failsafe code to turn off the shield!” Shaw yelled out. “Four-seven-eight-one-five!”
Exhaling a sigh of relief, you squeezed Bellamy’s hand. There’s a failsafe code.
Clarke rushed to one of the metal towers, opened the control panel and punched in the code. The energy sources atop each tower dissipated, signalling the shield's termination.
“It’s down! Come on!”
Murphy was the first to pass through, dragging Emori behind him. Copying his actions, Bellamy tugged you forward, the both of you passing through the towers together. Once everyone made it through, Clarke powered up the defence again, causing the swarm of insects to disintegrate upon meeting the shield’s radiation bolts.
No one said a word. Instead, they used the time to catch their breaths, some laying on the ground and others dropping to their knees. You tugged the covering off your head and placed your hands on your thighs for support. Multiple strands of hair fell around your face as you bent over, trying to replace the air your lungs lost, a few strings of curses spilling out in between.
Bellamy, who was so inconceivably fit that his breathing was already slow and even, placed a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?”
Lifting a shaky arm from your leg, you gave him the thumbs up.
He tenderly massaged your shoulder and scanned the group to make sure everyone else was alright.
“What the hell was that?” Echo huffed.
**********
Night cycles on Planet Alpha operated very differently compared to Earth—darkness held the sky for a good five hours before the two suns rose again, much unlike the twelve hours everyone was accustomed to back on Earth. That and this planet sent man-eating swarms of insects whenever night fell. Or so you assumed.
The suns peaked through the distant treetops; orange beams of light were spread across the fields you had walked. A few hours had gone by since you first stepped through the radiation shields. A few hours of walking got you and the others atop a small mountain that seemed to be centred within the large circle of towers, providing a good bird's eye view of the fields of crops below.
You continued trekking up the well-trodden path on the hill, Bellamy and Clarke on either side of you. The last time you interacted with Bellamy was when you entered the protected area, but since then, you had avoided eye contact, physical touch, and conversation. You knew yourself; one wrong move and you would lose his game. Despite almost being eaten alive, you were still determined to stick to the rules, and even though innocent affection and conversation were allowed, you didn’t want to risk it.
Plus, total avoidance would only make him crave you more—the basic rule of men, unfortunately.
Emori walked a few steps in front of the group, her movements quickening as they reached a rounded corner. “Guys, look. Stairs.”
Orange-brick stairs came into view and you watched as Emori began ascending them, everyone else following behind her. You climbed up the stairs, Bellamy ahead of you by a step or two. Not for long though. Your pace increased until you were shoulder-to-shoulder, but only for a split second before you placed a hand on his bicep, dragging your palm across as you moved a few steps ahead of him. You could hear his breath hitch and a small smirk teased the corner of your lips. Now he was the one behind you—how he usually liked it.
If you weren’t going to interact with him, the least you could do was give him a good view.
Once you reached the top of the stairs, everyone stood side-by-side, taking in the view in front of them. It was incredible. It was like all the beauty on that planet had been condensed, thrown into a single area and turned into a village. That was what it was—a village. Plus, a castle?
“They have a castle,” Murphy said in wonder.
It looked like something from medieval times crossed with The Hobbit. The windows were circular and made of multi-coloured glass panes. The structure was made of bricks and rounded towers with various intricate patterns decorating different areas, and two round staircases curving up to a second-level balcony. It was so striking it had to have belonged to some divine being because no one else could have deserved such a beautiful palace. Well, there was one exception.
You glanced at Bellamy whose face was lit up with the brightest grin you had ever seen as he too let the beauty sink in. Your heart skipped a beat and you had to turn away. So, you turned to Murphy.
“Perfect for you, Murphy,” you jested. “King of the cockroaches.”
“Careful. Roaches bite, you know,” he retorted
You raised your hands in faux fear.
Clarke stepped forward. “Come on. Let’s see if anyone’s home.”
Most of the buildings looked modern and were made of glass and coloured wood or shipping containers, surrounded and covered by different types of flora. Flowers were not in short supply there, that was for sure; every garden held a new and exotic type. Even the pond in the middle of the village had flowers in it. There were coloured banners everywhere as well—some that hung from each building, and some that were standalone's. The suns’ light just made everything seem so much more vibrant and enchanting.
You and the others were going door-to-door, knocking on each one to see if anyone was there. So far, you had no luck, if that’s even what it was. Almost every home had been checked, but there was no one. The last house to be checked came by and apparently Murphy ran out of patience for simple pleasantries. He kicked the front doors open.
“Well, look at that.” He turned to the group. “This one’s unlocked.”
He stepped inside and began rummaging through the owner’s belongings, not that it surprised anyone very much. You watched as he bent over and picked up something that looked like a neck cuff connected to chains on a wall.
“Hm. Kinky.” He turned back to the group with a devious grin on his face. His eyes flickered between you and Bellamy. “Any takers?”
He gestured between the two of you with the chains as if he were offering them. Oh, you were so tempted to pull a knife on him.
Your eyes went wide, and Bellamy almost choked on his own breath. All eyes were now on you and him.
You took off in the opposite direction before anyone could say a word. “I’m–I’m gonna find a change of clothes.”
It was a perfectly reasonable excuse to leave anyway. Your clothes were practically threadbare from the rough escape through the forest. Thankfully, you could hear the group begin talking about something completely unrelated before you were out of hearing distance. You weren’t sure where you were headed in particular. Anywhere that wasn’t near Murphy or Bellamy would suffice.
You didn’t want to be apart from Bellamy at all. Quite the opposite. You wanted him. You wanted his hands to roam all over your body, to feel his arms tight around your waist as he thrust deep inside you from beneath, and to have his name dripping from your tongue as he made it impossible for you to distinguish the meaning between the words ‘love’ and ‘lust’.
(If only you knew that he was suffering the exact same way.)
However, his ego was much too inflated for you to let him win. It was a sacrifice for the greater good. The greater good being not having to constantly listen to him tease you for losing in the future. But as time went on and your body started physically reacting to the separation, losing started to seem like not such a terrible idea. You were conflicted. Give in, or push on? The decision was painfully frustrating and also just downright painful.
While amidst your thoughts, your feet had carried you to the opposite side of the village until you were standing outside a dark red-wooded house. Covering the poles that held up the structure’s second story were apple blossoms. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.” That was the first thing you had said after stepping onto the ground—a reference to the story of Adam and Eve. Now here you were, contemplating handing yourself over to desire. A literal bite of the apple.
You shook your head, pulling down the door handle to the red house and it opened. Locks didn’t exist in this place it seemed. Stepping inside, you noticed several cardboard boxes on the ground both opened and unopened. There was furnishing such as couches, bookcases, a round glass dining table, and leather seats, but they were all scattered across the room and half had white sheets covering them. It looked like the owner had just been moving in.
As you assessed the room, you noticed a floor-length mirror attached to one of the walls, so naturally, you moved yourself in front of it. The reflection did not match the person you were before leaving Eligius IV. Your bun wasn’t even a bun anymore; half of it had fallen out whilst the other struggled to stay within the hair band. Your clothes had more holes than you could count and were covered in a thick layer of dirt and insect blood. A grimace fell across your face. Gross.
At your feet was another cardboard box; it was opened with a variety of fabrics spilling out. Crouching down, you pulled out the black material at the top to find that it was a long-sleeve off-the-shoulder shirt. It wasn’t exactly practical, but it beat wearing insect organs. You exchanged your two previous shirts for the black shirt; the material stretched around your curves, clinging to your body like a second skin.
Next was a change of pants. You kicked off your shoes and peeled off your jeans, leaving you only in your black underwear and socks. And so, the search began. A good ten minutes went by and you found nothing but long skirts and dresses. You were not about to walk outside dressed up like some grounder princess. Not now at least. Maybe there were more boxes upstairs?
After locating the staircase to the second story, you began to climb. Just like the first level, there were boxes and furnishings. There was a large thigh-high mattress against the back wall with two glass doors on either side leading to a balcony. The mattress was covered in several different blankets consisting of shades between white and purple with a mountain of matching pillows at the head of the bed. On the wall facing the mattress was another floor-length mirror. These people had a vanity problem.
Much to your displeasure, none of the boxes upstairs contained any pants either, so there you stood in the middle of the room wearing only a tight shirt and underwear. You sighed in frustration, tugging your hair band from the bun and letting your locks cascade over your shoulders and down your back. With nothing else to do, you decided you might as well go outside and see what the others were doing. You stepped out onto the balcony; the house’s architect had the right idea by designing it with a concrete fence that covered your lower half.
The others were still lingering on the other side of the village. You rested your forearms on the balcony fence, watching as Murphy signalled for Shaw and Bellamy’s assistance with pulling a heavy wooden crate from inside one of the houses. Knowing Murphy, it was probably full of stuff he was going to take for himself, which would have explained Bellamy’s reluctant stance. There was also something else that seemed to be troubling him. He looked distracted, almost torn between choices, his eyes occasionally wandering to the opposite side of the village where you had previously walked off to. Nevertheless, he eventually did give in to helping Murphy.
And then suddenly time all around you began to slow down. You were in a trance and it was no one but Bellamy’s fault.
He shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing his tanned and veiny arms beneath. He placed his hands underneath the crate and lifted in time with Murphy and Shaw. Even from such a distance, you could see his muscles tense and flex under the weight, the size of his biceps nearly doubling and bursting through the seams of his shirt. His face carried a strained expression, something you had seen many times before but in very different circumstances.
Your skin flushed with heat, and your bottom lip curled between your teeth as you struggled to keep your breathing under control. Blood was buzzing in your ears; you felt fucking intoxicated. You were aware of how feral your behaviour had become but it was inevitable. In a game like this, it had to be.
Once the crate was outside, he and Murphy placed it on the ground. Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, his gaze already beginning to wander once again. As if he could feel your stare burning straight through him, his eyes found your distant ones up on the balcony. The feeling of a hole being burnt through him was understandable because your eyes were ablaze with sin. That had to have been the tenth time you’d made him hard now and it was becoming painful.
You weren’t embarrassed to be caught staring, instead, you were intrigued as to what his next movements would be. But he made none. He simply stared at you over his shoulder, eyes stern and calculating. Who was going to win wasn’t the question anymore. The question was: How could either of you prepare for what was coming? A century’s worth of abstinence was also a century’s worth of build-up, meaning the release would be messy, and Bellamy wasn’t one to hold back.
Finally, he broke the eye contact, but only for a few seconds. His eyes moved to the building beside him and then back to you as if he were trying to get you to follow his gaze. So, you did. What he had gestured to was another pair of chains and handcuffs connected to a wall. Instinctively, you gasped, feeling a pulse in your stomach which you knew was his exact objective. You looked back at him, seeing the self-satisfied grin plastered on his face before he turned back to the group.
That son of a bitch.
Your back slid down the concrete fence until your ass hit the cold marble floor. He was driving you to sex-crazed insanity and you didn’t know how to fight against it. You needed something. Anything to relieve the torment. But you knew if you started, your hands would never stop, not until they were replaced with his.
Maybe the cuffs weren’t such a bad idea.
“No!” you had to verbally reprimand yourself.
Your head fell in your hands. This was all getting too much for you. One-hundred-and-twenty-five years… and a day! You wouldn’t call yourself a nymphomaniac but holy fuck. It was getting to the point that even his name had you aching, tearing yourself to shreds. You couldn’t take it any longer.
Moving onto your hands and knees, you began crawling—yes, crawling—back inside. You managed to pull yourself up onto the mattress with trembling arms and fell back against the quilt and cushions in the middle of the bed. A shaky breath left your lips. If Bellamy couldn’t be there to take care of you, then you would finish the job yourself.
You slipped a hand beneath the thin fabric covering your heat, fingers racing to meet the spot you needed. Back arching into the bed and stomach tightening—that is what you expected to happen when your fingers began circling your clit, but it was nothing of the sort. All you felt was skin on skin and the slightest of sensations. Even when you pressed harder, and moved faster, there was nothing.
Letting out a quiet, distressed cry, you readjusted your position and switched hands. You began rubbing back and forth, side-to-side, every way that had gotten the job done in the past. You moved one hand under your shirt and began massaging your breast, pinching and grazing your nipple, trying to replicate all the moves Bellamy had pulled on you before.
Still, there was no relief from the ache you felt. You needed to go further. Your hand moved lower, fingers hovering over your slick opening before sliding one in. This was never your forte; it was Bellamy’s. Whenever you needed to pleasure yourself, you would stick with outside stimulation, so all you knew was what he had done to you. After sliding your finger in and out a few times, you added another, but it still didn’t feel right. There was something you were missing that he usually did.
He took over your thoughts and you tried to imagine it was his hands instead of your own, but you were just fooling yourself. They were your fingers, not his. You were alone and you were desperate. No one could make you feel as close to heaven as him, not even yourself. Somehow, he knew the workings of your body even better than you did. Without him there in your desperate time of need, it was useless…
So, you started crying—like, actual tears-running-down-cheeks-and-sniffling crying. You felt utterly pathetic and that was all you felt. There was nothing you could do to help yourself. Bellamy was outside with the others, and it wasn’t like you could just waltz out there without pants on and ask him to fuck you incoherent.
Your fingers slipped out from inside you, wet and splayed across your bare stomach as you stared up at the ceiling, condemned to the unshakable longing within. Too distracted by your inability to satisfy yourself and your attempts to stop the tears from flowing, you didn’t hear the door downstairs open and closd. You sniffled, continuing to feel sorry for yourself.
Footsteps were coming up the staircase, but you didn’t hear them either. Nor did you notice the familiar figure that was now leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, feeling that same terrible longing that had led him to you. Only when he cleared his throat did you shoot up into a sitting position.
Bellamy.
“Bellamy,” you whispered, eyes wide and full of new-found hope.
He didn’t say anything, just simply observed you. First, he noticed the sparse clothing on the bottom half of your body; his pants became the tiniest bit tighter. Then he saw your eager expression—even tighter. And then, his eyes found the fingers lying in your lap, coated in a shine that had his entire body pulsing.
The drying tears on your cheeks were a dead giveaway of the desperation you had for him. He tilted his head, insincere pity washing across his features that you knew was only meant to taunt you. “What did you do?”
Your mouth opened to speak but you couldn’t find the words. “I–I–”
He pushed off the doorway and slowly walked over to you, each step measured in regard to prolonging the time it took for the distance between you and him to close.
You moved onto your knees as he got closer.
Once he finally stopped beside the mattress where you were sitting, he peered down at you. “Just couldn’t wait, could you?”
His arms were doing that thing again where they bulged beneath his shirt. He was right in front of you, all you had to do was reach out and touch. So, you did. You reached for his arm, but he was quick to intercept, catching your wrist in his hand. He looked like he was holding back a smirk, but his scheming eyes revealed how he felt. Smug.
For a moment, he moved his attention to your hand, turning it side-to-side to watch the light catch on the wetness. His eyes returned to yours and it was suddenly impossible to guess what he was thinking. He gently began to pull you forward, guiding you off the bed and you let him, oblivious as to where he was taking you.
When your feet hit the ground, he led you towards the wall. What you had failed to notice when you first entered the room was that there was another pair of chains connected to a handcuff. Scratch what you had thought before—these people had a bigger kink problem than vanity. Before you even had a chance to think, the leather cuff was bound around both your wrists.
You looked up at Bellamy. “Wait, wha–what are you doing?”
He sat back on the edge of the mattress. “Giving you another chance to win.”
The game. You had almost forgotten.
Winning and losing were a foreign concept to your mind now. All you wanted was Bellamy and he knew it which was why he found teasing you so entertaining. You tugged on the chains, trying to reach out to him even though you knew it was useless.
“Don’t think that will work, princess.”
You stared at him, exhaling sharply. Frustration was quickly building, and you wondered how long it would take until you were in tears again.
He looked around the room as though he hadn’t a worry in the world.
“It’s kinda hot in here, don’t you think?” he asked, brows furrowed.
Then he was pulling his shirt over his head and you were sinking to your knees. That was just cruel. His entire torso was exposed now, from his well-defined abs and chest to his broad and muscular shoulders. So cruel.
Your head fell back against the wall. “Bell–”
“What were you thinking about?” he interrupted, arms crossed over his chest again. There was no material preventing you from watching his muscles expand, from seeing the crafted curves of his toned arms. “Before I came in.”
I was pretending it was you who was touching me, you thought of saying, but your voice failed you.
He leaned forward, forearms resting on his spread knees. Staring at you expectantly, he was quick to realise he wasn’t getting an explanation. He nodded as if to say, ‘I see how it is’.
“Was it my fingers…?” He began cracking his knuckles one finger at a time, gaining all of your attention. “Or was I inside you?”
Your walls spasmed at the thought and you sighed softly.
“Were you imagining what it would feel like to have me between your legs after so long?” You closed your eyes, listening to him put the images in your mind. “How good I can make you feel? How fast?”
Goosebumps spread all over your body, your skin tingling with anticipation. You heard the bedsheets ruffling. He had moved off the mattress, now crouched in front of you, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about it too.” His voice was a low murmur now. “I can’t stop.”
He watched your eyes screw shut even tighter as he got closer. You looked like you were hurting, and he almost gave in, with heavy emphasis on the ‘almost’. Instead, he ghosted a finger across your collarbone. “I think about kissing you here.” He trailed up your neck. “Here.”
You could feel the air flexing between your lips and his finger, and you shivered. “And here.”
Your eyes slowly peeled open to see his face in front of yours. His dark eyes flickered between your own, peering deep into your soul which was entwined with him. He was already inside you without even touching you; he was inside your mind and under your skin. Your body was his and his body was yours. You loved him so intensely that whenever he fucked you, you forgot you were two different people instead of one.
To Hell with the challenge. To Hell with losing. He was your Heaven, and such torturous deterrents wouldn’t keep you away from the rapture he gave.
In a single move, you leaned forward and crashed your lips to his. Your body curved into him and he caught you with both arms, holding you upright against him. There was a split second before Bellamy responded as realised you finally gave in which meant he could too, and his lips began moving against yours. Just like the first kiss you shared on Eligius IV after waking up, this one was hungry, but that word sounded inadequate compared to what it really was. ‘Ravenous’ was more accurate.
You moaned into his mouth, your body feeling like it was coming alive.
His movements were intoxicating and so were the small sounds he made when he tried to fill his lungs with air. There was a rumbling in his chest, and he sounded almost primal. He brought a hand to the side of your head, fingers buried beneath your hair as he deepened the kiss, merging your lips with his.
Your bodies rocked backwards and forwards, your cuffed hands pressed against his chest meanwhile his were around your back and the other was in your hair. Bellamy’s hand moved to squeeze your waist and your mouth opened, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue inside and meet your own.
He rolled his tongue over yours during one kiss, and the next, yours had asserted dominance. You swirled around him, tasting him, mixing with him. During the time you took to explore the inside of his mouth, the floor beneath you had disappeared and was replaced with his arms. Your back was against the wall and if he wanted to, he could have dropped you at his feet; you had no way of holding on except for your legs which were wrapped around his hips.
You returned the power to him for a few seconds only to then lightly bite down on his bottom lip. He let out a quiet groan and slowly drew back to press his forehead to yours. For a while, you both stayed like this, breathing in each other’s breaths with your eyes closed.
Everything around you began to spin, and your head felt euphoric as you used his air as your own. The sensation spread through your body, it coursed through your veins and you needed to move, to feel it come to life. Your hips bucked forward but he was quick to push back, pinning you against the wall with a small grunt. His erection pressed between your legs, but he didn’t move. Eyes snapping open, you sent him a pleading look. How much longer was he going to make you wait? You tried to move your cuffed hands between your bodies, but he held them to his chest with one hand.
You wiggled against him, but it was futile.
“Bell,” you almost sobbed. “Bellamy, please.”
He lifted a finger beneath your chin, watching your reddened lips whisper the word ‘please’. He watched your eyes water, tears threatening to spill over the edge. You begged him over and over, and he allowed you to. He let you humiliate yourself in the hopes that he would give you what you wanted. You had completely fallen apart, and now he was going to piece you back together.
“What do you want?” His thumb brushed across your lips.
“Just touch me,” you pleaded.
A few more moments passed of you both just staring at each other, and then it was like something finally snapped in his eyes. He set you down on your feet. At first, you thought he was going to sit back on the bed, and you nearly choked out an objection. That isn’t what happened.
Instead, he pressed another tender kiss to your lips, then to your jaw, your neck, and down your clothed chest. His hands moved down either side of your body as he sunk to his knees in front of you and trailed kisses across your exposed stomach.
Your breaths started coming out in shorter, shallower intervals as he moved further down.
His hands squeezed your hips as he kissed the skin below your navel, causing your eyes to nearly roll back then and there. Finally, he made it to just above the waistband of your underwear. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly now. So close. His hands moved onto your thighs and he leaned in, briefly pressing his warm lips to your thinly covered heat. A jolt of pleasure moved up your body and you gasped. You could feel it—him.
He glanced up at your impatient expression before pulling the underwear down your legs, lifting each foot until it was completely discarded. He eyed the soaking mess that you already were and licked his bottom lip. This was all because of him. His eyes found yours once more, this time wordlessly asking for access despite your obvious enthusiasm.
All you managed to get out was a frantic, “Please”.
And when his mouth finally found your clit, a tear fell from your eye.
Your bound hands fell on top of his head, tugging at the soft waves as his tongue delved between your folds and flicked across your clit. His warm hands moved to the backs of your thighs, burying his face even deeper, exploring you even further. He moved down to your opening, spreading his tongue flat against it and dragging up to collect the mess that you were already becoming. Once he had returned to your clit, his mouth suctioned, sucking with pressure that caused you to let out a cry.
It wasn’t long before you felt the ghost of your orgasm begin to slowly step into the white light. The muscles in your stomach were tensing and rubbing together, preparing for a release that they were guaranteed to have.
Your back arched off the wall as you felt Bellamy’s teeth softly graze against the most sensitive part of your clit. He circled the surrounding area, the nerves beneath your skin setting alight with pleasure under his tongue, burning you from the inside out. When he mumbled something against you, you could feel the vibrations of his voice bury itself deep inside you, and you couldn’t hold back the filthy moan that had been begging to escape.
He pulled back an inch, your hips unconsciously following him as he said, “You lose.”
His mouth returned to your heat, focusing his attention on your throbbing clit, switching between flicking it with his tongue and sucking it into his mouth.
“No,” you managed to breathe out. There was no way something like this could be called ‘losing’. You were the one who got to feel Bellamy’s mouth between your thighs, bringing you to an extreme state of ecstasy. You were the one who had him on his knees before you. “I win.”
He groaned at the sound of your voice and you felt the pleasure move up another level. Your legs buckled beneath you as you tried to grind on his tongue. He took that as a hint to haul one of your legs over his broad shoulder. Now you were another level higher. Your hips bucked against him, feeling almost like you were vibrating as he continued his movements.
Just when you thought the sensation couldn’t get any better, you felt his thick finger suddenly slide deep into your opening and curl. Another tear ran down your cheek and you gripped onto his hair as your head fell back against the wall. You couldn’t even moan; there was only a chorus of strangled noises leaving your throat. He pushed upwards into the soft fleshy wall inside you over and over at a fast and steady pace, and suddenly, you were on the edge of pure bliss, ready to dive into the consuming waters.
His mouth sucked on your clit, tongue circling its peak, meanwhile, he added another finger to pump inside of you.
“Fuck, Bellamy!” Your voice had risen an octave, all breathy and needy.
Like a heartbeat, you could feel yourself throbbing, pleasure building more intensely with each pulse. The muscles in your stomach were so tight it felt like they were being burned with a white-hot flame. Your insides were twisting and coiling and with every curl of his fingers, the feeling only intensified.
Bellamy glanced up at you from below, your eyes meeting in a short exchange.
It all happened so fast.
“I’m–” Before you could finish your sentence, you were shot back up into space, seeing stars.
Your legs tensed up, heel digging into his back as your body began to shake. The coil inside your stomach unravelled, exiting through your opening but not before aggressively rubbing at your insides on the way out. For a moment, you forgot where you were. All you knew was the release, the buzzing in your ears and the way your vision swayed through half-lidded eyes.
Bellamy’s name flowed past your lips like a mantra. He didn’t stop; he kept pumping, kept sucking, prolonging the sensation for as long as he could. Everything was pulsing—the air, his fingers, your pussy. Everything. You would’ve thought you had ascended to a higher dimension if it weren’t for the man beneath you.
You felt his mouth disconnect from your body, fingers still moving inside, although, his pace was beginning to slow and so was your orgasm. The feeling was fading away, leaving you with an overwhelming feeling of weakness in the lower half of your body. Bellamy could feel your legs shaking, so he slid his fingers out. You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore and the next thing you knew, your legs buckled, and you were collapsing to the ground
Bellamy caught you in his arms, pulling you into his lap. He watched your thighs tremble as aftershocks washed over you, creamy liquid dripping down your skin. Your furrowed brows, half-closed eyes, and parted lips were a sight to see; he’d never witnessed anything more beautiful in his life.
You peered up at him through your lashes, cuffed hands resting on your stomach, and you smiled. Then you laughed, and then he was laughing too. His chest vibrated against your skin. Your hands reached up to push back a strand of his hair from his face and suddenly you were kissing again.
He placed a hand on your back and guided you until you were sitting sideways on his lap. Your taste was on his tongue and you loved it. You felt it seep into your own tastebuds as you rewound back to when you came on his fingers. You used his chest as support to help swing your legs on either side of his folded thighs so that you were now facing him.
His hands ran down your sides, stopping at the hem of your shirt before pulling it up over your head, exposing your naked breasts to the warm air. Bras were impractical when you were Bellamy Blake’s girlfriend; he’d always find some way of removing them anyway. Hell, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he had burned all the ones you used to wear.
He lowered his head to your chest, hair tickling your neck as he began making it his mission to cover your breasts in bruises that marked you as his. Despite feeling like your ability to walk was eradicated, you could feel yourself craving more of him, more of his sex. As previously disclaimed, sometimes fatigue didn’t stop you two from going multiple rounds and this time wasn’t an exception.
If only your hands weren’t bound. You wanted to touch him the way he did you. You wanted him to feel the world disappear and be replaced with a mind-numbing sense of sinful pleasure. You wanted to give that to him, but you couldn’t. Your hands were cuffed, and he had the key.
“Uncuff me, Blake,” you whispered.
His head lifted from your breasts, reluctant eyes meeting your own. “Why should I?”
You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness and turned your head away from him, but he was quick to pull you back with two fingers on the side of your jaw.
“You still lost, remember?” he added.
As if you didn’t already know that. “That was not my definition of losing.”
It was his turn to roll his eyes and even though you were supposed to be in a minor disagreement, you couldn’t help but think about how fucking sexy he looked. You leaned forward, lips ghosting over his. “Uncuff me, Blake.”
His jaw clenched and he leaned in, but you quickly pulled away. His eyes narrowed at you and the smirk you were biting back. He had played the ‘humiliation game’ with you and now it was time for payback. Bellamy may have been the one with the keys, but it was you who now had the control.
“C’mon, we both know you’ll give in before me,” he said, arrogantly.
Always count on Bellamy to be egotistical, even in bed. Well, ‘on the floor’ would be more accurate.
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
You hummed, placing your restrained hands on his chest and slowly grazing them down his torso. When you reached his stomach, you made sure to slow down and drag your nails across his skin.
He inhaled sharply when your nails scratched the area above his pants’ waistband. “Very conceited for a boy who can’t even handle being touched.”
His chuckle came out as a harsh exhale. “‘Boy’?”
“A man would take these chains off me.”
“You think taunting me will get me to break?”
Provoking words wasn’t what was going to break him; you knew that. It was underestimation that was going to be his fall. When it came down to it, men were very simple creatures. They chased after pleasure like it was the one thing that kept them alive, and you knew each and every weakness this man had. He thought just because he won the game, he also won the war. Well, guess again. You were going to knock him right off his high horse.
Your fingers dipped into his waistband. His hand quickly clamped over one of your wrists, pulling it away from his pants. Not that it mattered; you didn’t need your hands. He held your hands in the space between your bodies, his chest rising a little more irregularly than before.
You leaned forward, tantalisingly slow. This time he made sure not to move a muscle, allowing you to do exactly what you wanted. Your mouth hovered in front of his and you could feel his warm breath fan across your lips. Softly, almost as if the moment had become sugary and sweet, you pressed a kiss to his lips, a tender closed-mouth moan buzzing in your throat upon contact. He responded with the same energy.
And then the mood abruptly shifted as you glided your tongue across his bottom lip.
You could feel his cock twitch beneath you, and you knew you were headed in the right direction. Grinding down on his lap, you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth as he grunted. One weakness down; four to go. Your tongue swirled around his with each open-mouth kiss, and he had no choice—you both knew he was having the time of his life—but to reciprocate since he had already given up that area of defence.
Your hips continued to rock back and forth across his lap, occasionally applying a bit more pressure in the hopes he would be triggered to move. He wasn’t. Yet. So, you left his lips and moved down to his neck, sucking and nipping at the skin. His head tilted to the side with a sigh, allowing you easier access. This spot was not your main target, though. Your kisses trailed up to his jaw, running along the sides and the curve of his jawline before dipping just beneath the area where his jaw and neck connected. That was one of his weak spots.
His next exhale was shaky, paired with the quietest of groans. Two down. Then you moved on to the next target: just below his ear. Your tongue grazed the area before you left your mark by sucking on his soft skin. He was louder this time and your confidence soared higher. Three; two to go.
He had let go of your wrists now, resting his hands on the curves of your hips with his eyes closed. So much for the whole my-willpower-is-stronger-than-yours dispute. You watched his face as you dragged yourself back and forth over his erection. His eyes screwed shut, brows pulling together, and his fingers pressing hard into the soft plush of your hips.
Come on. Come on, you thought.
“Let go, Bell,” you purred into his ear. Your entire body weight shifted onto his lap and you almost revealed the same weakness you were trying to pull from him. He was so incredibly hard now that it probably wasn’t even healthy. He would have to unchain you soon. And just to pour gasoline on an already roaring fire, you added, “I want to feel you inside me.”
That was it. He couldn’t deny himself the heaven you were giving anymore. His hips bucked up into you, creating a pseudo-sensation of sliding between your folds—an action that erupted a full-fledged moan from his lips, causing your inner walls to flutter and your stomach to drop.
Weak point four—check.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath before suddenly snatching the knife from the holster on his belt and splitting the leather cuffs around your wrists.
And five. Check yes Juliet.
Wow. he couldn’t even manage to grab the keys.
Your hands were free at last, and you wasted no time in using them. They rushed down to unbuckle his belt and tossed it on the floor with a clink. Before you could continue any further, Bellamy rolled you over so that you were now lying caged beneath him. His lips came down on yours in a flurry of passion.
Now that you had full-body autonomy, you couldn’t help but explore every inch of him that you were once denied of touching. Your fingertips ran over his back, over the ridges of his shoulder blades, and around his large biceps. You wove your fingers into the roots of his hair and tugged just because you could.
He reached under the curve on your back, pulling your body up into his, your pelvis’ meeting in a rough collision. He was a mess of grunts and groans and you were quickly inhaling more air than you needed.
You moved a hand to his cheek to deepen the kiss as your touch explored his body further, slipping between your bodies and settling on unbuttoning his pants. Unzipping his flier with one-handed skill, your warm, soft hand slipped into his boxers, finally coming into contact with his hard cock.
His head fell to your chest with a broken moan.
Your fingers curled around him, beginning to stroke up and down his length. Bellamy had taken many of your firsts, including your first time so you had no one to compare him to. However, you were well aware that he was bigger than average. Even if he hadn’t been, you were certain he would satisfy you the same; he was just that good.
He managed to lift his head back up and return to your lips as your arm pumped up and down. His hips lurched forward as your grip increased. All he could think about was how good you were going to feel when it was your heat that was engulfing him, how wet and warm you always were.
Your hand reached the head of his cock, thumb rubbing circles over his tip as you felt drops of precum coat your fingertip. He was usually able to last a long time, just like you, but this was different. Everything inside him was built up for a century, and it would not take much until he was coming in your hand. You wanted him to reach that point as soon as possible.
You left pecks trailing from his mouth, across his cheek, and to the side of his jaw. The bone of his jaw fell victim to your grazing tongue as your pace increased along with the pressure of your grip. He was breathing heavily now, every second breath mixed with a low, breathy moan or grunt. You were throbbing just listening to the sounds he made.
A few curses left his mouth, revealing how close he was—that and the way his cock was practically pulsating in your hand. You twisted your hand with each stroke, effortlessly gliding your palm down his large veiny length. Your thumb grazed over the sensitive band of skin beneath the head of his cock, and his entire body flinched.
He was almost over the edge; all you had to do was give him a little push. Wanting to see his face one last time before you did, you leaned back, cradling his jaw in one hand whilst the other continued below. His eyes were shut, inner brows pulled upwards in a painfully blissful expression and strands of dishevelled dark hair had fallen across his forehead. God, he was gorgeous. What you wouldn’t give to…
No. You had your pleasure; now it was his turn. With each jerk and twist of your hand, your fingers ran over his tip then moved back down to lightly squeeze and repeat. You pressed one last peck to his lips before travelling to that spot below his ear, running your tongue over the skin and then sucked.
His cock twitched in your hand, stomach tensing against your forearm before he finally let go. He let out a loud guttural moan of your name, almost a cry, as he released onto both your hand and the inside of his pants. His head fell forward into the space between your neck and shoulder, groaning into your heated skin which sent vibrations down to your breast.
He remained in that spot for a few moments as you continued to slowly pump him up and down whilst pressing kisses to his shoulder. As he attempted to get his breath back, you removed your hand from his pants and moved both onto his back, lightly dragging your nails over his skin.
Now you were both even, but it was clear this was far from over.
Warm pants fanned across your face after he recovered enough to hover over your body. You were about to tease him for coming quicker than you did, but his tongue was suddenly in your mouth, rolling around your own. And then you felt it—he was already hard again.
That’s a lot of stamina for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man.
He left your lips again and rose to his knees. His carnally intense eyes never left yours as he pulled both his pants and boxers down to his lower thighs. You watched as his cock sprang from his boxers and bounced off his toned stomach. Still looking good for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man too. Extremely good. Like, actually drool-worthy good.
And it seemed he was thinking the very same thing.
“You’re so beautiful,” he spoke, almost like he couldn’t believe the fact himself before he descended back down to you, mouth hot on yours.
His hands were on the floor on either side of your shoulders, essentially trapping you beneath him. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him; almost like he could hold you in the palm of his hand like a little china doll. The treatment he gave you was also like that of a china doll—such a delicate and treasured touch. Though, there were times when he would practically throw you around like a rag doll, mostly when you were both deep in an intense fuck session.
The length of his cock glided over your stomach as he moved his body into each kiss. It was so close to where you needed it, yet still so far. Your legs curled around his hips in an attempt to guide him to your entrance, but he showed slight resistance. His tip was just pushing through your folds, sliding across with each movement he made. It was torture.
You pulled back from his lips, hands almost clawing at the sides of his chest. “Please, Bell, just–”
A gasp escaped you both as Bellamy finally pushed inside you in one fluid movement, his hips almost meeting yours as he filled you as much as your previously abstinent body allowed. Your walls welcomed him and the long-awaited feeling of his cock brushing against that back-arching spot deep within you. He hadn’t even moved yet, but your eyes were fluttering, and your throat was already tightening as you struggled to let out a moan.
Neither of you could do anything but struggle to keep your composure, waiting for the overwhelming heat of pleasure to subdue just the tiniest bit so your bodies could start moving without the world crashing down around you. After moments of stillness passed, Bellamy finally began to move, his pace slow but so, so deep. His gaze was intense as he found his rhythm, sliding almost completely out and then pushing himself back inside you. Fuck, the way your warmth consumed him was hypnotic.
It was kind of like the first time you had slept together those many years ago, minus the nearly unbearable pain when he first entered you, of course. It was intense yet still so full of adoration.
Your body soon grew accustomed to the feeling of his cock stretching you open, making room for him to bury even deeper, to feel your walls completely swallow him whole. That is when his pace started to increase. Your arms hooked around his biceps, bringing him closer as he continued his thrusts.
Not long passed before his hips were snapping against yours; he wasn’t just sliding in and out of you anymore—he was fucking you, pounding into you. Each time he buried himself deep, the area above his cock ground against your clit, stimulating you from the inside and out, so much that it was impossible to hold back a moan.
He moved a strand of hair away from your face, nodding his head as if to praise your vocalisation. The sight of him praising you for simply enjoying yourself as he fucked you was something that turned you on beyond belief. Not that you needed any more turning on at that point, but still, the reaction stood firm.
You wanted him deeper, in any way that was still physically possible.
And then, a sudden, lust-bound thought entered your mind and before you could even ponder it, you had used all your strength to roll yourself on top of his body. Now, his hands were on your hips, head thrown back on the floor and mouth hung open as you rode his cock.
“Oh, fuck!” Bellamy groaned.
Your hands were on his thighs as to hold up your half-reclined position and you were bouncing up and down, rolling your hips so you could feel him everywhere inside you.
A shudder ran down your body, peaking the nipples of your bouncing breasts. You swore you could almost feel him in your stomach. You shifted your body weight into your arms and pushed yourself upwards, sliding his cock nearly all the way out, circling your entrance around his tip before sinking back down to his base.
The both of you let out a synced noise of satisfaction.
His eyes followed each roll of your breasts in a trance, and then he cupped one in his hand, circling his thumb around your sensitive nipple. You gave Bellamy a smile, one that was so sweet and unintentionally seductive. He let out a half chuckle, half groan.
Your legs began to burn, a reminder of the experience you had with Bellamy’s tongue just before this. The way your clit was slapping against his pelvis each time you dropped mimicked the way his tongue had previously flicked and rolled around it. Your pace was beginning to slow, and your rhythm faltered, but you didn’t want the sensation to stop. Instead, you let yourself sink fully down on his cock, and your eyes rolled back. Ok, now he had to be in your stomach because there was no other explanation for the deepness you felt.
He was permanently in that spot that had blood rushing to your head, and with your hips rocking back and forth the way they were, your gut was throbbing with a build-up of ecstasy.
“I–” you panted. “I can’t hold myself up much longer.”
You squeezed his thighs, surely leaving behind red marks as you tried to push yourself up and down a few more times, pleasure and pain fuelling each of your repetitions. It was no use; your arms were trembling, and muscles were burning.
Bellamy was quick to your aid. “I’ve got you, princess, don’t worry.”
His hands moved to your back, pulling you forward, and colliding your breasts into his chest. Next thing you knew, he was pounding hard up into your pussy, his movements so fast you couldn’t even count the number of thrusts he made every five seconds, but it felt so good. So good that you almost screamed.
Your clit was throbbing, inner walls clenching around his unrelenting cock. You were hot, your body slick with sweat, but it wasn’t just that; there was also a fire pooling at the bottom of your abdomen, spreading through your muscles, through every fibre of your being and you didn’t want it to stop.
Bellamy’s arms were wrapped around your waist, rendering you immobile to each of his insatiable thrusts but it made you feel all the more incredible. He was hitting that soft, fleshy spot inside you over and over again, and you felt like you were going to burst. Your stomach was fluttering, his cock was pulsing inside you, and you were a mess of whines and moans.
“You feel–” he couldn’t even speak without releasing a rough moan. His arms tightened around you, mouth moving against your shoulder to say, “Feel so good.”
You couldn’t help but cry out at his words; he sounded so drunk on pleasure.
He began pressing rough kisses to your neck and the noises leaving your throat were utterly impure. His knees bent inwards, allowing him to thrust even faster into you. You were both overcome with desire, hellbent on chasing your release that was taunting you from the shadows. Bellamy seemed almost animalistic, sucking and biting at the skin of your neck whilst pounding into you from below.
Like always, he had made it so that you didn’t have to lift a finger, and he liked it that way. He was making you feel like you had slipped into heaven, and only he could do that. One of his many sources of joy was that your body only knew his cock, and it would forever only know his because that was how long he planned to love you.
You placed a hand on the floor beside his head, hovering your face above his. His eyes were quick to find yours as you gazed down at him.
In between each of his thrusts, you breathed out, “I–love–you.”
He looked so flustered, so puffed out. He was unable to repeat the words back without them sounding like a laboured breath of air so instead, he jerked forward and latched his mouth on the bone of your jaw, turning your skin red and purple.
Your head turned to the side to give him easier access only to unexpectedly come face-to-face with yourself being absolutely destroyed in the mirror’s reflection.
Well… It sure wasn’t a vanity problem these people had, you knew that now.
“Bellamy, look,” you gasped.
His entire body stilled at the sound of your voice and he eyed you with a worried expression. “Did I do something?”
“No,” you tilted his head with your hand so that he was looking at the mirror too. “I just…”
He didn’t need to hear more; Bellamy knew exactly what you wanted—to watch. Watch as his cock plunged in and out of your pussy, watch it curve into your entrance, watch your body bounce on top of his with each thrust. Damn, he’d wished either of you had noticed the mirror before so he could have watched you ride him from two point-of-views.
His gaze returned to you. “Hop off.” You were about to protest, but he beat you to it by clamping a large hand over your mouth. “Trust me.”
You gave him a puzzled, hesitant look but eventually submitted to his command, sliding off him and onto the hard marble floor. His body had left yours entirely, leaving you feeling cold and empty, inside and out.
It wasn’t long before he positioned himself to face the mirror, kneeling in front of it. He curled an arm around your waist and slid you across the floor towards him. Like a rag doll. He pulled you backwards onto his lap so that your back was almost against his chest and your thighs were spread open on either side of his.
“Lean back,” he said, and you did.
Your back was flush against him, and you could feel his racing heart reverberating in your ribcage. His arms wrapped around the space beneath your breasts and he pulled you upwards, supporting your weight, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up.
“Ready?” he whispered into your ear as you watched him in the reflection.
You nodded, reaching around to rest a hand on the side of his neck.
He kissed your cheek and your eyes closed at the sweet act of affection. One of his hands moved beneath you as he guided himself to your entrance, his tip pushing against your wet folds. Bellamy watched over your shoulder, his eyes focusing on the way his cock teased opening.
He finally slid inside, and you instantly fell further against him. Muscles were very handy in this kind of situation. You were captivated—his length disappeared into your body and then returned almost to the tip, covered in a thin layer of both your juices. His movements continued over and over, but you never found yourself bored or wanting to look away. Neither did he.
Your lips parted with a moan when he abruptly took one hard thrust up into you. You looked up at your reflection, seeing the expression on your face, seeing your dishevelled hair… your bouncing breasts. Not that you would say it aloud, but you looked sexy. For a split second, you found yourself finally understanding the attraction Bellamy had to you, and then your mind was torn apart once again.
His speed increased and he was hitting your insides harder and harder with each passing second. You saw your thighs slightly jiggling and weren’t insecure or afraid of Bellamy noticing, but instead found yourself feeling even more turned on.
The room was full of sex—the sounds were wet and harsh, the smell of your pheromones clung to the wall, and the visuals were etched into the mirror in front of your bodies. It was beautiful.
You moved your gaze up to Bellamy’s eyes, seeing him just as captivated as you were, alternating between watching himself slip in and out of your pussy and watching your breasts recoil from each bounce. He then met your gaze, talking to you through unspoken communication. Though you were unsure of the specifics, you were certain he was telling you how much he loved you, how beautiful you looked with his cock inside you, how no one else could ever compare.
His tip repeatedly curved into your G-spot, the rest of his length rubbing against your walls, causing the flames in your stomach to start rising. Bellamy could see the fire in your eyes, and he was ready to turn it into a blazing inferno. He shifted his hold on you into one arm, reaching around your body with the other. His fingers found your clit, instantly applying pressure as he rubbed fast circles around it. That was the gasoline.
Your orgasm was no longer creeping up inside you, but rather rocketing to the surface. You were pulsing around Bellamy’s cock, driving him even closer to his own high. His hips were slapping the skin of your ass as they kept snapping upwards. His abs were more defined as the muscles in his stomach tensed up, trying to keep you upright whilst fucking into you and controlling the orgasm that was threatening to release. You always came before him. Always.
His fingers pressed harder into you, moving side-to-side. Your G-spot was being hit without mercy, only intensifying the pleasure you felt as he rubbed your clit. You alternated between holding your breath and letting out shallow, laboured breaths, signalling how close you were.
You could feel it, Bellamy could feel it—you were pretty sure everyone outside could feel it too, feel the powerful energy leaking from the house you were in. That is what it felt like. Powerful. And now it was about to take over your entire body.
“Bell, I’m gonna–”
“I know,” he panted. “Me too.”
Your hand fell over his, pushing down on it, applying more force even though you weren’t sure he could even press any harder. His hand was almost blurring in the mirror, and his cock was pounding. He was breathing so heavily against your back and into your ear that it sounded like he couldn’t even control the grunts and moans leaving his mouth anymore.
He circled your clit a few more times before your hand moved further down to the place you both connected. Your fingers found the area between his cock and your pussy, feeling him slide over your fingertips as he moved in and out. That was what sent you over the edge.
The blaze in your stomach exploded, sending sparks throughout your body. Your moans were uncontrollable, rebounding off every corner of the room. Your ears were buzzing with overwhelming silence, your vision partially blacked out and you felt so, so good. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, but you hardly noticed, unable to think about anything except Bellamy’s cock. You had ascended to a higher dimension and he was right there with you, endlessly pounding up into you, prolonging your mind-numbing high.
Feeling your walls clenching around him was all it took for Bellamy to fill you up with his come. His cock twitched, and the warm liquid came rushing out in spurts, coating your insides with white—with him. The thick warmth of your mixed juices leaked from your opening and dripped down his length. Your inner thighs were drenched.
His thrusts were sloppy and rough, desperate to keep the feeling coursing through his body as long as possible. The sounds he made were so guttural and raw that you weren’t sure if they made you come again or if they just prolonged the orgasm you were already having.
Somehow, in the midst of both your highs, you had ended up on the floor, partially laying on each other whilst frantically gulping down air.
You couldn’t move. One of your legs was tangled between his, and one arm was thrown across his chest. Your breasts were pressed against the hard ground, head turned to the side facing Bellamy. Everything was shaking, or maybe it was just your entire body uncontrollably quivering. Even your pussy was still clenching, causing you to flinch with each fraction of a movement it made.
Bellamy had a forearm over his eyes, panting heavily; his other arm was still wrapped around your waist.
The both of you just lay there for a few minutes, not talking, not moving, just recovering. Eventually, Bellamy gained back enough strength to speak.
“We didn’t even make it to the bed,” he chuckled.
You then realised you were both literally lying naked on a stranger’s bedroom floor and laughed. “We would’ve ruined the sheets anyway.”
“Probably,” he sighed, contently. He pulled you further onto his chest, bringing your face to nuzzle into his neck. He pressed a kiss into your hair. “I love you too, princess.”
You smiled into his skin, remembering the declaration you previously made. Tilting your head up and resting your chin on his chest, you stared up at him, eyes full of reverence. He peered down at you with a grin, and then his lips were on yours again, soft and slow; so tender that you–
“Oh, come on!”
You both pulled apart at the sudden new voice. In the doorway stood a very irritated Murphy. He seemed too shocked—more like too horrified—to even look away.
Bellamy ripped a blanket from the edge of the mattress and pulled it over your body. “Murphy, I swear to god I’m gonna kill you! Get out!”
“Oh my god!” he shouted in response. “I can’t catch a fucking break around here!”
His voice echoed down the staircase as he fled the building. Someone probably needed to find him a shrink after the number of times he had walked in on you both. He had made it back outside, returning to the rest of the group, though not far enough away for you to miss his very loud complaints.
“Where are the damn carnivorous bugs when you need them?!”
“What’s wrong?” you heard someone ask him.
“What’s wrong? They’re fucking animals, that’s what’s wrong!”
You turned back to face Bellamy, grinning in a daze. “I’ll say.”
Bellamy smirked, humming in agreement as he rolled back on top of you.
It was hard to say how many more rounds you went. The only time you stopped was when your bodies were screaming for a break, and during that time, all you could think was thank god for contraceptive implants.
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Tu me promets (Daniel's POV) - D.R. #3
Sugar Daddy!Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Reader
Summary: He was sorry, for not calling, for sleeping with you, and then running as if you meant nothing to him.
Warning(s): Implied sexual content
A/N: As per pole results this will get published first. The Reader's POV will be up next week. The title translates to you promise me. Points to anyone who can spot the Gossip Girl reference from season 6.
Words: 3.3k
Previous Part ← Reader POV
The Arrangement Masterlist
Daniel knew he was being a coward, not texting you back after you had gotten home, not calling you for two months. It was a lot for him to process all while being back in Formula 1 driving for AlphaTauri. It wasn’t Red Bull but Christian and Helmut through it would be a good stepping stone for him after last year.
Yet here he was showing up at your apartment building to try to talk to you. He was pretty sure that you would slam the door in his face before he was even able to get a word out. He waved at the security guard before going up the elevator to your floor.
He knocked once he was at your door. He didn’t have to, he did have a key to your apartment but he wouldn’t do that. He may have bought the apartment but it was your space and he wasn’t just going to let himself in after not talking to you.
It took a few moments for the door to open. There was something punishing in that silence of waiting. It wasn’t long before you stood in front of him in his pink Enchanté jumper, black shorts, and thigh-high socks. The bouquet of white Japanese Camellia flowers that were in his hands suddenly felt heavy, like it was weighing down his arm.
“Can I come in?” He asked.
You eventually let him through the door not saying anything. Daniel couldn’t help but take in the apartment after not having been here for a while. It was very well lived in, you had candles, books, and photos set up all around. This had become home for you. He saw a throw from Hermés over the back of the armchair he helped you pick out. He knew he was the only one to sit on it.
There was a container of takeaway on the glass and silver coffee table, and you were watching Gossip Girl on the TV.
“I’m sorry.” He blurted. He was sorry, for not calling, for sleeping with you, and then running as if you meant nothing to him. It was wrong and you deserved better, not just from him but in general.
He tried to hand you the flowers but you wouldn’t take them from him. His eyes fell on an empty vase by one of the windows that looked like a handbag. He walked over in small steps and placed the flowers in there, just happy for them to be out of his hands.
He walked closer to you but kept the distance between you, leaning against the back of the cream couch, his legs folded on top of one another.
“Look,” He started to say. He could feel your eyes on him, running up and down what he was wearing probably tuning out his words just to not seem rude or something. “I know I shouldn’t have left the morning after. I just…”
Come on mate, out with it. She won’t hear you out all damn day. He thought to himself.
“It was a lot for me, to know how I felt and then do that. Be with you.” It was the only thing he felt he could say. It was his truth. He never expected that he would get a chance to be with you or that you would even want him like that.
“So, what does that mean?” It was fair of you to ask him that. What did that mean?
“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “I pay you… to spend time with me, in gifts, and clothes, and all this other stuff.”
He hated bringing up the money. Money bought him things, it wasn’t meant to be used on people.
“I won’t pay you to sleep with me. It’s not right.” He blurted out. Daniel had always tried to be a nice guy, and he just couldn’t use you like that.
“Who says that you’d be paying me to sleep with you?” You asked as if there was nothing wrong with that. He can’t do that to you. He can’t treat you like you mean nothing to him. “Maybe I just want to.”
Daniel can’t help but shut his eyes at those words. “But you shouldn’t.”
“What I mean is… I can’t keep doing this because of the money.” It was never about the money when it came to you. Yes, he liked buying you things and spending money on you. But there was more in it for him. “I care too much for you now, for it to be about the money.”
“Can you think about our relationship for a second… without the money.” You asked him.
Think about their “relationship” without the money. Their whole arrangement started because of money.
“What are you talking about?” He asked.
"What would we do while you were in town? And I don't mean the shopping." Your question puzzled him a little.
Without the money? He thought. That wasn’t shopping?
"Dinner, and we'd go out to hang out with my friends, maybe watch a movie or something." He finally managed to get out.
Come to think of it he had never met your friends, he never tried to insert himself into your life thinking that there was no way that he would fit. Always busy with his career, media obligations, and his friends. It was easier for him to try to find a way to pull you into his world, without inserting himself into yours.
"What am I to you Daniel? What do you call me in all your notes?" You asked. It was like there was an odd shift in the room. Everything felt slower, almost hazy with how dark it felt in the apartment.
"You... you're my girl." He struggled to get the words out. He had only said those words out loud once, before that, it was always either writing them down on paper or in a text message. Saying it now felt strange on his tongue.
"Why do you call me that?" You drew out of him.
As you walked closer Daniel couldn’t help but swallow down his breath. His hands felt hot like he had just gotten out of the car after an intense session on the track.
"Because you’re mine." He whispered, "I like spoiling what's mine." He still didn’t know what that meant for the two of them. Calling you his was one thing, but he knew that he had no ownership of you whatsoever.
Feeling the press of your body against his chest made him nervous. All he wanted was to get out of the hoodie that he was wearing. It would make him less hot, and make it easier for him to breathe. He felt you moving his hands to your hips, just laying them over the soft fabric of your shorts.
"It's okay, Daniel." You whispered brushing their noses together. "You can have me." The invitation felt too good to be true.
It was too easy to pull you to the couch and let himself get lost in the feeling of your lips. Two months without it. You were a drug in the best way, the best high he could ever get. How had he let himself believe that he could live without the feeling of you in his arms and the taste of your lips on his?
Coherent thoughts and feelings didn’t matter while he held you to his chest.
“You’re perfect for me,” He praised you letting his lips trail over your neck. You were trouble and he knew that he was done for.
At some point in the evening, both of you had moved to the bedroom. He was leaning back against the headboard, letting his eyes wander around the room taking in the contrast of soft creams and dark black accent pieces. A phone charger and a few jewelry pieces cluttered the nightstand to his left.
His fingers fiddled with the silver Tiffany bracelet that you were wearing, letting himself get lost in the feeling of your skin against his, seeing your hair a mess, and light bruises start to show on your neck.
"Can you promise me something?" You asked him.
He gave you a slight nod. He wasn’t sure what he could promise you. A wonderful life, a diamond ring one day? Okay, maybe he was getting ahead of himself by thinking about a diamond ring.
"If we keep doing this," You said, pointing at the two of you. "Promise me that you know it's not about the money."
So it hadn’t been about the money for her? He couldn’t help but question. He still paid for things for you, food, clothes, even if he was the one who was picking things out to give to you. Money was the thing that held them together.
"But isn't that why this all started for you," He asked. "Because of the money."
"Yes, when I was in school." You said. School. Right. You had been in college when you met. How could he forget? "But I'm out of college now, I can find a job.”
Find a job? He didn’t like the sound of that. That would mean that if they kept this, even if it was in some small way he would have to work around not just his schedule but yours as well. There was no way.
“Maybe even take over paying the rent on this place." You continued.
Pay rent. He didn’t pay rent on this place. He had bought it. He always saw it as an investment, he put down the 5 million on it, and if this hadn’t worked out he could always rent it out to someone. It wasn’t like he needed the extra income.
"I don't pay rent on it." He admitted, scratching at the back of his neck. "I bought it."
He looked over at you to see that you were a little shocked at his confession. Maybe he should have told you that when he had gotten you the place.
"What about you?" You asked changing the subject. "What started all this for you?"
That was a hard question to answer without going into too much detail. Everything in his career felt like it was falling apart and in some ways his life as well.
"I needed a change, something to make me feel like I was worth something. A priority if you will." That felt like the easy way to explain it. He hadn’t felt like he made himself a priority in a long time. Being with you made him feel like he was worth something. It was always time and energy well spent. You made him feel like he was worth everything after just a few hours together.
He felt you move closer to him in the sheets, sitting on his lap as your bare thighs brushed against each other. Your hair pooled around your face a bit as he tried to stop himself from pulling you closer. You may have just been wearing only his hoodie in bed but he could only control himself so much.
"You are worth so much." You said to him. He felt you lean closer to him. Touching your foreheads together. "All the money in the world can't compare."
God, that was cheesy. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing even if he tried.
Daniel let himself enjoy the feeling of you against him. The supple feel of your hands on his skin, the way your hair was just slightly brushing over his arm. Small things he hadn’t let himself enjoy before.
"I think that if we keep doing this," He started to say. He was slow to pull back from you. A the same time he wanted to cherish feeling you against him. "You need to know that it'll be more for me than it was."
He was making this choice for you. He couldn’t do this if you wanted to keep it casual. He needed it to be all or nothing. Full relationship. He couldn’t live with just having pieces and moments with you anymore.
"I understand." You said as he felt your fingers running over the skin close to his collarbone.
"No, like, I have feelings for you. Real feelings. And I can't do this if you don't feel anything for me in return." He stopped your hand where it was.
He wasn’t willing to say the words I love you. He didn’t want you to shut him down if you heard them, he couldn’t handle it.
"I do have feelings for you, but I never thought that you would let me get close enough to see if there was more than attraction." Wait? What? He thought… it wasn’t just him then. He didn’t have to treat this like it was only based on what he felt for you.
“When did it become more for you? Italy? Meeting Scotty and my friends?” He couldn’t help but wonder. Why had you fallen for him if it wasn’t to do with the money?
When you brought up the story of him insisting on walking closer to the curb on the street he couldn’t help but feel a light blush make his cheeks warm. He was just being a gentleman. Doing what he thought he should since it was late at night and they were in New York. He didn’t want you walking close to the sidewalk in case something happened. Who knew what could happen if you did?
“That’s when I knew it was more, I knew that I couldn’t make you give me more, so I let you give me what you could, until Monaco.” He appreciated that for a while she had been understanding of the fact that he didn’t want to just jump into something. “By then I was sick of waiting. I needed more… So I took it.”
Hearing that being in Monaco made you want more had made him see that it was more gradual for you than it was for him. He had been apprehensive to share his feelings for you, but now that he knew that you felt something for him, he wanted to be with you more than ever.
"I guess that means that we're both in this." You half asked.
"This means," He said, quickly flipping you onto your back. He made sure to rest his arms against the mattress to keep most of his weight off you. You let out a loud laugh. "That since you’re mine, I get to keep taking care of you."
You were quick to lock your legs around his back while he lightly trailed his lips over your neck.
"Know what that means?" He whispered, nudging your neck with his nose before moving up your neck. You felt perfect underneath him.
"There is... no way... I'm letting you... get a job." He admitted between moving to the other side of your neck lightly digging his teeth into the skin. Nope, not happening ever. You were his and he didn’t want you working if he could help it. Damn the fact that you paid for your schooling.
Daniel had let his eyes pear over to the window to see that it had grown dark at some point. Between the talking, the couch, and ending you in your bed. You had turned the lights off and Daniel had settled in against one of the pillows that you had on your bed. He had felt you move closer to him in bed, he turned over onto his side instead of his normal sleeping position on his stomach.
“Don’t worry, babe.” He put his arm around your waist, muttering into your hair before kissing your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”
It was a promise that he intended to keep. He let the sound of your breathing settle him to sleep. It had been the first time since Monaco that he had been able to fall asleep without the sound of a podcast or music filling his ears.
The feeling of the sun in Daniel’s face had woken him up. He was under a thick duvet, his pillow crushed in his arms, and a warm body settled against his side. Daniel was careful to roll over in bed. He knew that this wasn’t his bedroom on the farm in Perth, his bedroom in his Monaco apartment, or the house in LA. However, waking up here didn’t seem out of place.
He looked over to the other side of the bed, past messed-up white sheets, and saw strands of hair gracefully falling over a pillow. You were still asleep, turned towards him.
He didn’t want to leave the bed, but he thought maybe it would be nice if he at least made you a cup of coffee. He pulled himself out from under the warm sheets, letting the cold air of your apartment hit his chest.
As he moved through the apartment he couldn’t help but rub his eyes. He looked through some of the books that were on your shelves, pictures of you with your friends that he didn’t recognize at parties and out at dinner.
Eventually, he makes his way to the kitchen, looking through cabinets and opening drawers before finding the coffee mug you always use. His eyes fall on the built-in coffee maker and he can’t help but think that it looks complicated. Buttons and screen. Are there instructions lying around somewhere?
“How do you work this damn thing?” He asks no one. He’s on his last try using the machine before giving up and just using Uber Eats to order Starbucks or something. He’s washed the mug and it’s still dripping wet when he hears what can only be your feet against the light hardwood floors.
He looks up seeing you and can’t help but smile. You look gorgeous in the pink dress that you’re wearing. He places the cup down trying to avoid one of the bigger puddles of water by the sink that is facing the living room.
“How's my girl this morning?” He asks. As you get closer Daniel can’t help but reach for you. Now that he can touch you as much as he wants, he’s not sure if he’ll ever stop.
He leans down to press a light kiss on your cheek.
“Pretty good.” He can feel the smile in your words.
Everything after that feels easy, like the whole time he’s known you this is what the relationship has been like. He can’t help but stand there for a few moments, in awe of being here with you. He pulls his hand away from your cheeks, looking down at you as you peek up at him through your eyelashes.
“I know I bought the place, but can you please show me how to use this thing?” He says gesturing to the coffee maker.
You laugh pulling away from him just a bit before kissing his cheek. He can’t help the smile that creeps through. God, does this feel right. He watches as you roam around the kitchen making both of you coffee. The little sound of you humming to yourself, as he takes in the thought of being able to enjoy this all the time, not just when he lets himself indulge in his selfish whims.
As he’s watching you, he’s surprised to see you pull out oat milk from the fridge and put it into what he can only assume is his cup of coffee.
You quickly give it to him and all he can say is, “Thanks, babe,” Taking the cup from you.
He lets himself pull you to the couch needing to feel you close. It’s always been easy to talk to you, never having to miss a beat with anything that either of you brings up. Movies, music, anything. It just flows for both of you. He’s holding his coffee cup in one hand while the other is running over your skin, making little invisible patterns that he’s not paying attention to.
He can’t believe that some part of him thought it would be right to leave and run from this. It felt right, talking to you that night by the bar. From the moment he met you, he knew that he was done for.
SD!Danny Ric Series: @hc-dutch, @taylorslovesswifties13, @thatsusbitch, @laneyspaulding19, @basicallyric, @divya14, @zafetycar, @brekkers-whore, @cixrosie, @taytaylala12
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Enchanted to Meet You - Colin Bridgerton
A/N: I am so hype for the new season, and Colin isn't even my favorite Bridgerton sibling. When I was thinking of who should get Enchanted, I knew the story had to happen at a beautiful ball, so really this was one of the only choices. (There may be more Enchanted inspired fics, who's to say!) Hope you enjoy!
TS Prompt #6: Enchanted
Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x Reader
Word Count: 3.0k
Synopsis: After years of knowing, and not liking each other, Colin and the reader meet again at a ball, and share a magical evening together.
"Isn't that your second glass?" Eloise asks, a glass of champagne in her own gloved hand.
"No. It's my third," you say. She doesn't even try to hide the un-ladylike snort she lets out.
"I thought your mother said one."
"She did," you say, peering about the crowded ballroom for her deep red dress. "But, as this is my third ball of the season, I thought it only fitting."
"I'm sure she'll see it that way, too," Eloise says sarcastically.
It was true, this was your third ball, but the three glasses of champagne didn't really have anything to do with that. The matching numbers did add some kind of magic to the night, but truly, you just needed them to get through the evening.
It was your first year out, and after three balls, you weren't sure you would ever find someone to marry. It wasn't like you hadn't had callers. You had blossomed in the last year. So much so, that people often did a double take when they looked upon you. It wasn't so much that they weren't interested in you, but that you weren't in them.
This evening was looking to be another night of forcing laughter and faking smiles with men you had no interest in. The thought of another glass of champagne was too enthralling.
"I don't believe it," Eloise says, leaving your side. You watch her nearly run across the ballroom, and run into the arms of a man. When they break away, you see it is Colin, returned from his travels around the world.
It is hard to believe, but he has become more handsome, in his travels. You spent years and years at the Bridgerton household, and never found Colin anything other than annoying. He was the brother closest in age to Eloise, and he spent most of his time picking on the two of you.
But walking towards you now is a man. A very handsome man, whose smile seems to make your insides melt. You think you might melt, too, as he walks up to you.
"Have we met?" he says, taking your hand in his.
"Are you joking?" you ask, watching as he places a soft kiss to your gloved hand. "Colin, it's me."
"Y/N?" he asks quietly, his brow furrowed as he studies your face.
"Of course it's Y/N, you idiot," Eloise says, slapping his arm.
"You . . . you look completely different," he says.
"Bad different?"
"No, no, not bad at all," he says. He stares at you for a moment longer, seemingly speechless.
"Oh cut it out, will you?" Eloise says, "Both of you are staring like you've never seen the other before."
"Well, he looks different, too," you say, "A good different," you add, looking to him. He smiles, his mouth turned up to one end in playful amusement.
"Eloise, I hope you do not mind if I ask Miss Y/L/N to dance," he says. Eloise begins to say she does mind, but your mind is only on Colin as you drop your hand into his.
You are trembling as he leads you out onto the dancefloor. You have danced this dance hundreds of times before, and have done so to this exact song at the previous two balls. But now, the man in front of you is Colin, and that makes it completely new.
When he pulls you into his arms, your chests a touch closer than societally acceptable, you aren't breathing.
"Hello," he says softly.
"Hello," you say, as the music begins around you. Your moves are instinctual, as you let him lead you into the dance. He is still studying you, his eyes on every angle of your face. You laugh at his ministrations.
"What?" he asks.
"You act as if you don't know me."
"Well, I don't."
"I've spent nearly every summer at the Bridgerton household."
"No, that was Eloise's annoying childhood friend, that wasn't you," he says, his eyes locking on yours.
"Well, it has been a while since we've seen each other. And I have changed."
"I can tell," he says deeply. Goosebumps appear along your neck, and you watch his eyes track them.
"You've changed, too," you say, "Traveling agrees with you."
"Thank you," he says. He spins you out of his arms and back in. "How are you enjoying your first season?"
"Truthfully, it has been pretty boring so far."
"Boring?" he asks in surprise. "Don't tell me you've been a wallflower."
"Oh, on the contrary, everyone seems to notice how much I've changed," you say with a grin, making him laugh, "It's just, I haven't found their company as agreeable."
"And how about my company?" he asks, his voice quiet again.
"I'm not sure yet," you say thoughtfully, studying his face. "But so far, you are certainly a far better dancer than any of the other men I've danced with."
"Really? I'm honored."
The music comes to an end, and both of your hands linger for a moment longer on the other. The dancefloor starts to shift as couples enter and leave. You are supposed to be dancing with Lord Charmbord for the polka.
"Care to have some more fun?" Colin asks.
"What?"
"If you don't mind leaving Lord . . ." he trails off as he touches your wrist again, glancing at your dance card. "Lord Charmbord in the lurch, I'd be happy to prove that my company is much more enjoyable," he says. There is mischief in his eyes, and you know you will go wherever he wants you to.
"Where to?" you ask.
"Meet me at the fork in the gardens," he whispers in your ear, as he walks past you casually. Again, the goosebumps appear.
You walk off the dancefloor, keeping your head down so that no one, especially Lord Charmbord or your mother, see you slip out onto the terrace.
There are a few couples lingering out on the balcony, but they are too involved in their conversations to notice you move down the steps to the garden. You move silently as you look around for Colin, or anyone else.
Scandal would be sure to follow you if anyone were to catch you out here, but you can't bring yourself to care right now. This is the first time all season that you have felt anything, and you aren't going to let it go.
As you round a bend in the gardens, hands grab your waist and you nearly scream out. Quickly, though, Colin turns you around and reveals himself. You clutch a hand to your pounding heart.
"You frightened me," you say.
"I'm sorry," he says, laughter still in his eyes.
"No, you aren't," you say with a laugh.
"No, I'm not. But I am glad you met me here."
"Well, I was promised good company,” you say. Colin straightens, a smirk on his face, as he extends his arm to you.
“A promise I intend to make good on.” He leads you deeper into the maze like garden, as if he has explored it before. Before you can ask, he says, "You know, I used to play with the lord's son when we were kids. He knew where all of the hiding spots were in here, and challenged me to hunt him down. It took a few years, but I was eventually able to find all of his spots, and a few of my own."
"So if I asked you to hide right now . . ."
"You would not find me."
"You assume so little about my seeking skills?" you joke.
"No, just that my hiding ones are much more polished."
"Ah. Well, I should hate for us to have to split up, anyhow."
"As would I. You know, I still can't truly believe that you're you."
"I really haven't change, Mr. Bridgerton," you say.
"No?" he asks, looking you over thoughtfully. "Well, perhaps I have."
"You have."
"How so?" he asks, a small smile on his face. You look him over for a long moment before smiling back.
"You've gotten taller," you say. Colin lets out a tut of laughter.
"Indeed."
"But, I'm sure it's also your travels that are to blame for the man I met tonight."
"I would agree with that estimate," he says, "I learned a lot during my journeys that I am not sure I would have ever discovered at home."
"I can't help but feel envious," you say, "I've always wanted to travel, too."
"Really? Where to?" he asks.
"Anywhere, truthfully. But I've always been fascinated by Florence."
"It is truly gorgeous," he says with a nod.
"You've been?"
"I have. They have absolutely the best food of any of the places I've been. But what's more is they even have the best dances."
"The best dances?"
"Yes, they've taken our plain old quadrille and changed it into something magical," he says. He seems to notice the excitement in your eyes, because his smile only grows. "I couldn't help but notice that you're an accomplished dancer."
"Oh, please," you say, self-depreciatingly, "I'm passable, but certainly wouldn't call myself accomplished."
"I had no complaints," he says softly. He waits for you to give him a smile before continuing. "And if you spent one day in Florence, I know you would out dance every woman in there."
"They are truly that good?" you ask.
"Would you like me to show you?" he asks. He has come to a stop in the center of the gardens. A large fountain trickles softly behind him, the air moist with the shooting spouts. You study him for a moment, waiting for him to say he was joking, to turn back to the Colin you had known.
"Are you serious?" you ask.
"Of course," he says, holding out his hand.
"There's no music."
"You don't need to hear the music to feel it," he says, taking your hand in his and pulling you in close. "Just follow along. It's got the same steps as the quadrille you know, but with a little more movement."
You nod your head and focus on the moves. Without music playing, it is a little harder to get into the rhythm, but he is correct, after a few steps, you can feel the music echoing inside of you.
His hand on your waist presses slightly, making your hips move more fluidly. You are certain if anyone were to see, it would mean scandal, but you cannot fight the smile growing on your face. Again, he shows you how to add more movement into a step, bringing the two of you closer again.
You have danced through one whole song in your head, and you don't want to stop anytime soon. Never in your life before have you danced like this. You feel so free, so graceful. And it is at this feeling, that you trip on an upturned stone and crash into Colin's arms.
The music has stopped playing in your mind. There is only the soft sound of water, the trill of crickets, and your pounding heart.
You have never been this close to a man. Your chest is flush against his. You can feel his breath, and watch as he looks down, too, at your bodies pressed together.
His eyes catch yours and everything seems to slow. There is only his warm brown eyes, locked onto your own, and the hand on your back that moves softly, comfortingly.
"Colin," you whisper. He smiles widely.
"I like when you say my name."
"I've said it a million times before," you say with a laugh.
"You've never said it like that."
"We should be heading back," you say. The hand on your back grows firmer, like he would do anything to keep you against him.
"No one knows we're out here," he says.
"My mother will come looking soon."
"Y/N," he whispers, his head ducking so that his words dance over your neck. You shiver slightly, and his smile only grows.
"I see what you mean," you say, looking back up at him, "I like the way you say my name, too." The look on his face is purely prideful.
"Don't go back inside," he says.
"We'll both be ruined."
"What if I don't care?" he asks.
"You do care," you say gently, "And so do I."
"Perhaps you're right."
"I am right, Colin," you say, beginning to pull away. He pulls you back in and your lips are a breath from his. His eyes flicker between your own and your lips, that are practically begging to be kissed. Your eyes close, against your better instinct, and you lean in.
Snap!
In an impossibly quick moment, Colin has pushed you out of his arms and ducked into an alcove of the garden. You wait for someone to appear, for your reputation to be ruined, but no one comes. Another minute passes and Colin comes out.
"Perhaps, you should get back inside, Y/N."
"Where did you run off to?" you ask, jumping again at his appearance. Before he can answer, you sigh. "Right," you say with a laugh.
"Let's get you back inside," he says. "That was too close."
Colin does get you back into the ball without scandal falling on you.
When you find your mother again, her face is nearly as red as her dress. Clearly, she has not followed her own rule regarding glasses of champagne. She says that Lord Charmbord had been searching for you, but you can't even begin to pretend to care.
For the rest of the ball, your eyes are always on Colin. Unfortunately, you don't get to spend any more of the evening with him. The closest you get is a moment on the dancefloor where you briefly switch partners.
His hand meets yours at the same time his eyes do, and once again, the world around you is gone. There is only the music and his face, looking at you in a way you can't precisely name, but that you're dying to know.
But just as soon as it happens, it is over, and you are back in the arms of a man you have absolutely no interest in.
As the night comes to a close, you bid Eloise and Lady Bridgerton goodnight. You can't help peering around the both of them for Colin, but just when it appears he is not coming and you have turned towards the exit, he calls your name.
"Miss Y/L/N," he says dashingly, "I would be remiss if I didn't bid you a goodnight."
"Goodnight, Mr. Bridgerton," you say, watching as he bends down to kiss your hand. Quietly, so that only you can hear, he says, "Say it just once more, please."
"Goodnight, Colin," you whisper. When he stands up straight, he is fighting off a smile. He bids your mother goodbye, and then you are getting handed off into your carriage, and ripped away from what feels like the first real night of your life.
The ride home is quiet. You answer your mother's few questions, but when she can see you're in no mood to talk, she sinks into her own thoughts.
The countryside is dark, but as you look out upon it, you can't help but wish. Wish that this was the very first page of your story with Colin, not where your story line will end. That he was as enchanted by you as much as you were by him. And pray that he is not in love with someone else.
At home, when you finally get into bed, you are restless. You toss and turn well into the early hours, questions rolling about your mind, all about Colin.
Too early the next morning, you are awoken by a lady's maid. The day after a ball is always busy. Gentleman callers all morning, and mothers and daughters in the afternoon, to get caught up on the morning callers.
While your handmaidens go about getting you dressed and pinning your hair up, you can't help but relieve the night before. It sparkles in your mind - truly the most perfect night you could have imagined.
You pray that it is not the last, but you know that you have to remain practical. Besides the looks and smiles he gave you, Colin did not lead on that he was interested in marriage anytime soon. You, on the other hand, were very interested in getting wed off this season.
As you walk down the steps to your sitting room, you assure yourself that it will be okay, if Colin does not feel the same.
"It is too early for callers!"
At the foot of the stairs, you hear your doorman arguing in hushed tones. You can hear another voice, but not clearly enough to match the sound to its owner. Before you can open the door and find out, your mother comes bustling down the staircase and passes you.
"Who could it be at this hour!" she says, ripping open the door.
Colin Bridgerton is standing in your doorway, a bouquet of orange tulips in hand. His eyes are wide when they circle to meet yours, but then they soften.
"Y/N," he says gently. The doorman stutters a response at this lack of formality, so Colin corrects himself. "I mean, Miss Y/L/N. Mrs. Y/L/N," he says, turning to look at your mother.
"I apologize for the early arrival, but I wanted to be the first here," he says.
"The first here for what?" your mother asks in shock.
"To call upon Miss Y/L/N, of course. You see, I shared quite an exquisite time with her last night, and hope that I may spend more time in her good company."
"Really?" you and your mother ask in unison. You laugh, and feeling bold, walk towards Colin. Still keeping a respectful distance from him, knowing that your doorman was watching closely, you take the tulips from him.
"Really," he says. "I was enchanted to meet you again, Y/N. Please don't have someone waiting on you."
"Not at all," you say. "Would you like to come in for tea, Colin?"
"I would love to," he says with a grin that nearly takes your breath away.
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