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I know what hands are for (And I’d like to help myself)

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Clarke never thought of her mother as impulsive. Three months ago, she would have told you that Abby Griffin is the most methodical person she’s ever known. Chief of Surgery turned CEO of a company that is now a leader in medical technology? You don’t get that far by making rash decisions, like marrying a guy twenty years your junior just months after meeting him. The woman sitting down the table from her, smiling up at her new husband? Clarke doesn’t recognize her. 

Jesus fucking Christ… Don’t get her started on the new husband. Bellamy Blake is fucking unreal. Clarke’s father was barely cold in his grave before this asshole came charming his way into Abby’s life with his stupid face and warm eyes and kind smile. It would be one thing if he was just arm candy, just a rebound to distract Abby from the pain of losing the love of her life. Every day, she’s waited for her mother to remember that she’s supposed to still be in mourning, but instead she’s just been happier. And now the new guy is here to stay, and that makes Clarke want to puke. 

The fact that her mom can even smile right now is upsetting. Abby looks so happy and Clarke is fucking seething. She raises her glass with a tight smile and congratulates the happy couple with the rest of the crowd. 

Clarke takes a moment to let herself at least appreciate the beauty of her mother’s chosen companion. She has to give Abby credit – the man is a specimen of physical beauty. He’s tall, but not too tall. He’s got “casual perfection” down to an art. Really. Muscles well-defined but not freakishly so. He’s got the kind of build that makes her mouth water, to be honest. The first time she saw him shirtless, he was getting out of the pool. One thought came to her, unbidden: Oh, he could throw me around real good… and catch me, too. 

She doesn’t want to be That Girl™ here. The one that acts out, using sex as a tool, to get what she wants. She wants to be deeper and more complex and not so fucking predictable. But god, sex is so easy. And she’s so good at it. And something about her new stepdad makes it impossible not to go there. It doesn’t help that he and her mom are always fucking. She’s pretty sure Abby isn’t aware that her screams of pleasure can be heard all the way in the kitchen in the middle of the night. 

She tries to pretend she doesn’t know what he sounds like when he comes. It makes it hard to look him in the eye, knowing the exact pitch of his calls when he’s yelling out a drawn “Fuck!” followed by shuddered moans of completion. 

She’s snapped out of her reverie by clapping hands as Bellamy wraps up his toast. He meets her eyes and she sees a flash of alarm in them, so very briefly, but enough to remind Clarke that he is terrified of her. 

She scoots her chair away from the table and stands up, subtly adjusts her cleavage in a dress that’s probably inappropriate for a fifteen-year old. She can’t help that she fills it out like a grown woman. She makes her way over to her mom and plasters on a warm smile. 

“Congratulations, mom.” She says as she pulls Abby into a hug, kissing her on the cheek. Abby looks confused, but that’s nothing new. Clarke is confusing. 

Bellamy stands up next to Abby and Clarke pulls him into a hug. “Nice speech,” she tells him as Abby’s attention is drawn away by other guests. 

“Thanks, Clarke.” He manages to say as he sits back down, taking a sip of his drink as he settles back into his chair.

Clarke puts a hand on his shoulder, reveling in his sudden tension under her palm. “Welcome to the family.” She lowers her voice, letting her lip brush the shell of his ear when she whispers, “…Daddy.” 

She takes a special kind of glee when he chokes on his drink, then thumbs away the smudge of lip gloss on his ear. 

Abby turns back to him, “Oh, Bellamy, are you okay?” 

Clarke gives them both a bright smile, “Looks like it went in the wrong hole!” 

Bellamy coughs louder and Abby rubs his back while he recovers his airway. Clarke can feel his eyes on her as she walks away, putting some extra sway into her hips while she’s at it. 

Things just looked up…




Clarke walks into the kitchen to find Bellamy at the island, cleaning up the dishes from breakfast. She knows Abby left already for an early meeting because Saturdays apparently suck when you’re a grownup. He’s in plaid PJ pants and a white tee. The sleeves hug his arms in a distracting way… His rich skin tone contrasts with the crisp white of the shirt, and she has the very real urge to lick it right now. Clarke doesn’t realize she’s staring until his voice startles her out of her daze. 

“You alright there, Princess?” He gives her a half-smirk and she glares, because he knows how much she hates being called that. He gives her a less-than-discreet once-over where she stands, but she doesn’t miss how his gaze trips over chest. The fact that she knows he’s looking makes her nipples tighten up even harder underneath the thin material. 

A few weeks ago, in one of his more awkward moments, Bellamy had taken her aside to ask, “Clarke, can you please put on a bra?” Her jaw had dropped open at the request. It was like a lightbulb moment for Clarke – he is utterly helpless when it comes to her tits. He added, “And you need to find clothing that’s more… appropriate for company.” A flirty smile played on her face and she shrugged, her nipples grazing his chest as she told him, “Oh, Bellamy… You’re not company. You’re family.” To her credit, she did adjust her wardrobe. Just maybe not the way he hoped… 

“I’m fine,” she huffs, and turns her attention to the open fridge. She bends over to reach for something at the back of the bottom shelf and fails to bite back a moan at the cool air that hits her cunt when she parts her legs just right. She smirks to herself when a fork clatters to the floor. Bellamy clears his throat as he picks it up, she’s sure, taking a good long glimpse up her tiny satin shorts. 

She’s getting closer to wearing him down. To her delight, he’s become less and less subtle. Where he used to look ashamed for noticing her revealing clothing, he now lets his eyes linger on parts of her. He’s looking now. She can practically feel the weight of his eyes on her cunt. She shifts her weight, foot-to-foot, ass still in the air while she fiddles around a little more with the bottles on the shelf, giving him a long, clear view of her pussy. His steady breaths get a little heavier, but other than that he’s completely silent. It’s not the first time she’s shown off for him. She seems to always find ways to flash parts of her body at him, but those are always just quick little peeks. She’s never left herself open for this long before. Just as she’s starting to feel a little cracked open, she hears Bellamy’s bar stool scrape across the floor as he gets up from the bar and comes to stand directly behind her. Almost-but-not-quite touching. 

She considers standing up, but chooses instead to shift her weight back.

Bellamy lets out a sharp hiss when her ass brushes up against him, as if he’s surprised she went there. Did he really fucking expect something different? 

She pushes back again, harder this time, and she slams her eyes shut at the undignified whimper that escapes against her will. “Fuck.” She stands up, finally, and arches her back, grinding a little more into him, and a thrill shoots through her because he’s hard. Hard for her. His hand shoots to her hip and he holds her in place. 

His voice is choked and a little wild. “Clarke, this is a dangerous fucking game you’re playing.” 

She leans back into his chest, “Really?” She grinds into him again, letting his cock dig in between her ass cheeks. She turns her face and looks up at him with big blinking eyes, worrying her lower lip between her teeth for a moment before she smirks. “I think I’m winning.” 

His grip tightens and he pulls her ass back, this time grinding himself into her. “Careful, sweetheart… The antics are getting old.” 

“Bellamy,” she sighs, hoping she sounds bored. “I think you talk a lot… But I don’t think you’re gonna do a damn thing about my antics.” 

His dark chuckle rumbles through her and sends chills down her spine. “Oh, Princess… You have no idea what you’re asking for, do you?”

She balks, “I’m not some innocent virgin, Bellamy.” 

He tsks, his fingers flexing on her hips, “Oh, trust me, Clarke. No one thinks that of you.” 

Those words surprise her, even though they shouldn’t. “Is that supposed to be an insult or something?” 

“Clarke,” he shakes his head, “if someone was trying to insult you, don’t you think they’d pick on something you valued?” The implication stings just a bit. 

She scoffs, “You think I don’t value myself?” 

He huffs, one hand slowly sliding around to palm her stomach. His voice is impossibly gentle, “Don’t you think it’s just a little bit predictable? Sad? Trying to hurt your mom by fucking her husband?” She could do without the pity in his voice. Clarke fights the urge to squirm, considers her next move carefully. He might be trying to put an end to this right now and she can’t have that. Not when she’s this close to getting what she wants. 

With an exaggerated sigh, she rolls herself into him, slow and full, feeling his cock twitch where it’s lodged between her ass cheeks. “Don’t you think it’s sad that it’s working?” 

He flinches, presses her closer to him with his hand on her stomach. “Please-” He chokes, begging her. But for what? 

She breathes, “Come on, Bellamy…” Her hand rests over his forearm and she gives it a tentative squeeze but gets no response. So she does it again. “You want this…” She revels in his sigh. “You want me, don’t you?” She arches again to prove her point. 

He groans, “Fuck, Clarke,” so broken and so defeated, and she bites her lip with a victorious smile. 

“I’m right here.” She chides, playfully, swaying her hips a little. 

Then he moves. Really moves. And oh, god… She sucks in a sudden, shocked breath when his mouth engulfs the skin on her neck. She mouths, “Bell-” when he bites her, hard. It hurts… but god, it hurts good. His hands pinch and pull at her skin, and oh, this is more than she expected at all. He moves her away from the fridge and guides her to the island. 

Bellamy’s voice is like gravel, tinged with more than a little bit of anger as he commands, “Hands on the counter. Do not move them.” Holy fuck, this is happening. She's not sure what it is, but it's happening. 

Clarke slams her eyes shut, chews her lip with a nod and winces at the taste of copper when she bites a little too hard. Her breaths come heavy and fast. She’s already feeling a little overwhelmed, and he hasn’t even done anything, yet. He steps away from her for a moment and his absence feels like a wall of ice at her back. 

She whimpers, “Bellamy…” She wiggles her ass, silently goading him into action. She hears a CRACK in the air, then feels a piercing sting radiate from her ass cheek. Her eyes shoot open when she realizes he just… spanked her. 

“What?” She frowns, “Why-”

“Shhh…” he tells her, reaches forward and pinches sharp at her thigh. He chuckles softly at the pathetic little squeak that escapes her and she finds his ridicule has an unexpected… effect. To her deep embarrassment, she feels herself get wet all over again. This is a problem. He can’t know that he has this effect on her. 

She shifts her weight from foot-to-foot, discreetly trying to keep her arousal from trickling down her leg, but nothing seems to get by him. 

“Clarke, Clarke, Clarke…” Bellamy goads, “What are you hiding?” Oh god… he knows, and she could not be more mortified by the sound that escapes her. He clucks his tongue and slides his hand up her inner thigh, pausing when he reaches the wetness on her leg. He huffs, undeniably amused. “Like mother, like daughter…” 

Clarke feels a flash of heat shoot through her. 

“W-what do you mean?” She asks. But she knows the answer. She’s stood, shamefully, outside their door while Bellamy and Abby fuck. She knows Bellamy makes her mom do things. She hears her mom beg. Beg for him to touch her, to fuck her, to make her come. Clarke hears these things. She thinks about them when she touches herself late at night. 

A sick thrill shoots through her when she realizes, maybe, just maybe, Bellamy is going to do the same things to her. 

Bellamy chuckles, “What I mean is, you crave a firm hand.” As if to emphasize his point, he drags his fingers along and picks up the tacky arousal that drips from her cunt, holding it up for her to see more clearly. 

Clarke rolls her eyes, “Firm hand?” 

He considers his words before answering her. “Direction.” It sounds plausible. He seems to take her silence for incredulity, so he elaborates, “I’m willing to bet, your best orgasms come when you’ve got someone ordering you around, huh?” She frowns, because when the fuck would she have had the chance to figure that out? 

"I'm fifteen!" She says, but instantly wishes she could take the words back. She doesn't want to remind him that she's underage, on the off chance he grows a conscience... 

He clears his throat, "I'm aware. But, you just told me that you aren’t an innocent virgin… Were you lying, Princess?” 

“No, I mean-” She considers her words a moment. “I’ve done a lot of things.” She bites her lip, “I’m not… innocent.” 

Bellamy's voice goes low “Clarke?” He tips her chin to face him. “I need you to answer truthfully.” He warns. “Have you had sex, before?” 

She nods, a tiny yes, but… escaping her throat. 

“But?” He prompts. 

She steadfastly refuses to look him in the eye, “But not with a boy.” 

He nods slowly, realization dawning on his features. A slow grin picks up the corner of his lips. “So, you’re telling me that your cunt has never taken a cock?” 

She shakes her head, slowly. “No."

She feels his thumbs graze her puffy labia, playing gently with them. "So, when I sink my hard cock in this sweet little pussy, that will be its first cock?" She can hear a nearly giddy quality in his voice, and that sends jolts of excitement through her. 

She nods with a whimper. 

"Is your hymen still intact?"

Clarke shrugs, “I- I don't know.” She doesn’t. She’s never actually put anything up there, except for tampons, and an occasional finger when she’s fucking herself and needs that extra mmph

“That's okay.” He says, almost sweetly. “I'll check for you." This constant change from sadistic to sweet is throwing her for a loop, already. It leaves her feeling unsettled, a little unsteady. She feels his fingertips tease at her opening, then one sinks in, probing carefully at her slit. Despite how gently he touches her, she still flinches at an unexpected sting. 

Bellamy drops his head forward to lean on her shoulder, blows out a harsh breath that tickles her back. "Oh, fuck, sweetheart. I get to make you bleed." The perverse delight in his voice makes her feel kind of heady, and she feels herself getting just as excited about it. 

Still, she asks, “Is it gonna hurt?” 

He hums, playing a finger along the edges of her slit. “Probably.” He draws the arousal over her outer labia, then slides lightly over her clit - giving her just a pale sample of what’s to come. “But, if you’re a good girl… if you do as I say, I’ll do my best to make sure it hurts less.” 

Clarke nods shakily, more than a little overwhelmed and wondering if maybe she should put a stop to this. Maybe she’s teased enough. Maybe this is taking it too far. 

Bellamy coos in her ear, voice graveled and rumbling through her, “I’m gonna make you feel so good, Princess.” 

“Oh…” A shudder jolts through her - mostly excitement, with maybe a little apprehension, shades of reluctance. She thinks it’s too late to back out, now. And why would she want to? He’s going to make her feel so good. Right? 

She doesn’t even mind that he called her Princess. In fact, if he keeps saying it that way, she might have to modify her stance on the name. 

His fingers hook under the strap of her flimsy top, and she can’t take her eyes off his hand. The sound of shredded fabric rings loud in her ear as he rips the strap clear off, then repeats the damage to the other side. Suddenly, the thin fabric falls completely from her chest and she’s left uncovered. Her breasts rise and fall quickly with her heavy breaths, her head spins, and she’s so fucking out of her element here. 

Oh no… She might not be ready for this.




Bellamy wants to take her, he does. But he’s not going to do it in the kitchen. No, he wants someplace more comfortable. So he guides her, naked save for her tiny satin sleep shorts, up the staircase. Clarke stops walking when they arrive at the door to his and Abby’s room. 

He chuckles, “Not here, Clarke.” Maybe someday, but right now he wants to claim Clarke in her own bedroom. He wants her to think of the filthy things he does to her when she goes to sleep tonight. He wants her to be unable to escape the memory of their dalliance no matter where she goes, but especially her room. 

They reach Clarke’s room, and she leads him in, a nervous smile playing on her cheeks. She stops in the middle of the space and turns to face him. 

“Um, I didn’t clean-” She stammers as she gestures around her messy room, and he finds himself endeared to her nervousness. 

He chuckles, voice low, “Clarke,” and watches the way her body shivers at the sound of his voice. “Take off your shorts.” 

She nods, a bit jumpy, and starts to peel off the tiny satin bottoms, wincing when they cling to her sticky center. 

He can’t hold back the aroused groan, “Fuck… You’re so wet, and I’ve barely touched you.” 

Clarke gives him an embarrassed little sound that goes straight to his cock, because apparently, he’s the kind of man who gets off on a fifteen-year old girl’s skittishness. 

“Turn around, Princess. I want to see everything you’ve been hiding.” 

She huffs, “Hiding?” 

He shrugs, she has a point. She’s been doing anything but hiding lately… He amends his demand. “Show me everything you think I’m not allowed to look at when your mom’s around.” 

She nods, gives him a slow turn, letting him look over the expanse of her bare skin. And god, her body is so fucking perfect. Abby’s figure is tight and toned in ways that seem impossible for her age. He bites back a stab of regret at the thought... He’s a greedy man, wanting more than he gets with his wife. That’s on Clarke, though. He wouldn’t have even started looking twice at his teenage step-daughter if she hadn’t been so brazen in her advances. But now she’s standing naked in front of him, offering herself to him, and he’d be an absolute moron to say no. He’s also an absolute moron to say yes, but can’t find it in himself to resist when she’s right here for the taking. 

Clarke’s body is soft in ways Abby’s isn’t. Her skin is supple where Abby is tight. She’s paler than her mom, too. Her toes and knees point slightly inward, still shy under his gaze, like they can still hide her from him somehow. Her pussy is shaved, which makes his head spin a bit, because who shaves their cunt unless they’re wanting it to show it off? She wants this as bad as he does. The rise and fall of her heavy tits is mesmerizing, and he almost needs to pinch himself because he’s actually getting to just look at them without limits on time, without having to worry who is going to judge him for staring at a teenager’s body. 

She tucks her stray hair behind her ears as he steps up directly in front of her. He hooks a finger under her chin and tilts it up to face him again, and notes again how it makes her tremble. 

“Go to your bed, Princess.” 

She does, sliding backwards onto the mattress in a smooth, sultry way that makes him think maybe she’s practiced this. 

“Like this?” She asks, as she lies on her back and stretches her arms out above herself. Her legs still dangle over the edge of the bed, and he parts her knees as he comes to stand between them. 

“Yeah, Princess. Like this.” He licks his lips while he takes in the view of this girl spread-out on the mattress before him. 

Bellamy hooks his fingers underneath her knees and pushes them up by her chest, then separates them, marveling at the spread of her pussy with the motion. He’s finally treated to a proper view of her slick, shiny cunt, and his mouth absolutely waters at it. He had thought her tits were enchanting, and fuck, they definitely are. But her pussy? Undefiled, untouched… pure. That makes his brain just short-circuit entirely. Knowing that no other man has taken her gives him a thrill of unrivaled proportions. 

“Fuck…” He scrubs his hand over his face, “Just, fuck.”

Her hands come to her knees, slide up and down along her thighs. “Tell me,” she prods.

He rolls his eyes, because of course she wants to hear the filthy things going through his head right now. “Where do I start, Clarke?”

Clarke shrugs, “What’s got you breathing so fast, Bellamy?” She’s a little too composed for his liking, if he’s being honest. He wonders just how dirty she likes to be talked to. He intends to find out. 

“Just looking at your tight little pussy.” He shakes his head, “When you were bent over in front of the fridge, I caught a glimpse of you, finally.” 

“Finally?” She asks, a lilt of surprise in her voice. 

“Yeah, Clarke, finally.” He chuckles, “I’ve been craving a peek at your cunt for so long, Princess...” He spreads his hands over her thighs, slides them along until they’re over her ass cheeks, lets his fingers play over her swollen labia. “When you were bent over in front of the fridge for me, earlier, I got a glimpse. I thought maybe that would be enough… I’d get a look, and that’d tide me over for a while.” 

Clarke shivers, “It didn’t?” 

Bellamy shakes his head, “No, Princess… I saw it, and I knew right away, I needed more.” She makes this timid little whine and he chuckles, “It looked like you were already dripping from your little slit, but I could just barely tell… most of it was still hidden.” He parts her lips just a bit, and the air rushes from his lungs at the sight of her shiny wetness trickling out of her. He can’t hold back a groan, “If you could fucking see yourself, Clarke… your cunt is fucking perfect.” 

“Bellamy…” She whines as she shifts her body a little bit, her pussy seeking friction all on its own. He spreads her lips wider, oh-so-carefully, so he can see it - the delicate sliver of flesh spread out over her opening.

“Oh, fuck, there you are…” He doesn’t give a fuck how desperate he sounds. He’s looking straight at the corporeal proof of his step-daughter’s innocence. Purity he gets to take. Clarke’s body jolts at his words, and something about that - fear and excitement - makes his senses flare with pure possession. 

“What is it?” She asks, her voice small and nervous. 

He chuckles, spreading her a little wider so he can see every corner of her hymen where it stretches over her opening. It’s alive just like the rest of her body, and he wants nothing more than to tear through the tiny hole that’s already there with the swollen head of his heavy cock. Wants to hear her pained little cry when he takes it. Wants to see her flinch with the pain of her body fighting his invasion.

He wants…

She fusses a little, squirms to catch his attention. “Tell me.” She repeats.

“Your cherry…”

She jolts a little, “You can… see it?”

“Yeah, Princess, I can see it clearly… It’s so pretty.” He shakes his head, “Looks so good, and I just…” he trails off.

“You just what?” She asks, kind of breathless and more than a little excited.

“I just have to taste it.” He tells her with a glint in his eye.

She nods, “Yes, please, please taste-” She’s cut off by her own sharp gasp when he dips his face down, runs his tongue over her swollen labia.

Bellamy slams his eyes shut at the taste of her on his tongue, tangy and sweet all at once… So perfect, it makes his cheeks hurt. He bathes her folds, snakes his tongue between them. He picks his head up again, takes a good look at her needy little pussy, clamping down on nothing, and hiding her cherry with each clench. He spreads her open again, then snakes his tongue into her hole, licking along the sides of her walls carefully until he meets that thin membrane. 

“Oh!” Clarke’s body jumps a bit when his tongue pushes at the stretched, flimsy flesh. “That’s-” She giggles, and somehow the noise is the most erotic sound he’s ever heard. He wants to hear it again. So he prods at it again, and she breathes that happy sound, “That’s my cherry…”

He chuckles against her cunt, laps at the arousal that is spilling out of her, “Yeah, Princess…”

“You touched my… cherry with your tongue.” She sounds mystified that the act is even possible.

“And you taste so good…” He slurps loudly at her wetness, smiling at the way she shivers at the sound. “So fucking good.” He curls his tongue up and catches it over her clit and her whole body jerks in response. “You like that?”

She bends herself, trying to chase his touch, “Uh huh, yeah, again-”

He tsks, “Easy, now…” Catches her hip in his big hand and pressing it down into the mattress. “Gotta be careful with your cherry.”

Clarke huffs, “Did you just call it your cherry?” 

Bellamy snaps his eyes to hers, He’s pretty sure he didn’t. But since she mentions it...

“Yeah… Mine.” He smiles at the shudder of her body. “Does that turn you on, Clarke? That I own your cherry?” 

After giving it a good amount of thought, she nods, “Yes... I think it does.” 

“You think?” He cocks an eyebrow, because the truth is literally dripping right out of her needy slit. 

“I know,” She stutters over her thoughts, but she's getting there and that makes him happy. “It turns me on... a lot... when you call it that.” 

“When I call it what?” He asks, rolling her flushed pussy lips between his thumb and forefinger, letting blood rush to the flesh and pink it up. 

“It turns me on when you call it your cherry.” Her body practically shakes before him. 

“That’s right. Because it's mine.” He affirms, spreading her labia wide again and taking another peek at the tantalizing covering of her opening. “Have you been saving it for me, Princess?” 

She huffs a disbelieving laugh. “Sorry to disappoint, but I haven’t saved myself for anyone… I just haven’t fucked anyone.” 

Bellamy chuckles, “See, Princess, I don't think that's true. I think you have been saving it for me.” He uses one hand to draw the hood off her clit, exposing the swelling nub to the cool room air. In a moment of lewd inspiration, he gathers the saliva in his mouth, then spits it in a dribbling line onto her clenching pussy. She hisses at the contact and he drips another gob onto her quivering clit. 

That time she squeaks with a shocked expression, “Did you just--?” 

“Did I just what?” He asks, directing her to clarify, because he thinks he might like when the Princess talks dirty… 

She raises an eyebrow, “Did you just spit on my… you know?” 

“Use your words, Clarke.” He reprimands. 

She hisses, “Did you spit on my pussy?” 

Bellamy chuckles, “No, I spit on my pussy.” He lets his thumb fall onto her clit, watches her limbs twitch as he taps a teasing rhythm onto it.

Clarke shivers, “Oh, god…” She leans back into the mattress and he rubs at her clit a little more, rewarding her for not fighting him on this. She huffs, “That’s… fuck.” 

“Princess, from now on, I need you to take extra care of this for me, okay?” He spreads her open again so he can get another look at her, finds himself even more enthralled by the sight with every viewing. “I don’t want you to accidentally tear my pretty little cunt… Not before my cock gets a chance to take it.” 

She whimpers, confusion evident. “But, I thought you were going to fuck me.” 

He chuckles, “Before? Yeah, I was gonna sink my cock into this tight little cunt and fuck you until you couldn’t see straight…” He shakes his head, “But that was before I knew that this sweet little pussy had never taken a cock… That changes things.” 

She arches an eyebrow, “So what, now you’re gonna make it special for me?” 

“Sure,” He huffs, “For you.” 

Their eyes meet and she asks, her voice a little unsure, “You’re really gonna do it, though?” 

He smirks, “Fuck you?” 

Clarke nods, her voice a near whisper, “Make me bleed?” The question makes him feel light-headed as the air is practically forced from his lungs. He gives her a slow nod that contrasts sharply with the racing speed of his pulse. 

“Yeah, Princess. I’m gonna make you bleed.” 

“When?” He detects a trace of fear in her voice, and doesn’t miss the way his cock feels like it goes even harder at the sound. 

“Not today,” He tells her, calmly. He busies his hands on her body again, stretching her legs out straight above her head while she pulls them against herself. 

She frowns, “But, I want your cock, Bellamy.” She drops a foot and hooks it in his waistband, effectively pulling him off center, just momentarily. 

He shakes his head with a lopsided grin while he re-balances himself, “My, my, Princess… such a filthy little mouth you have.” She gives him a shrug and a small smirk but nothing more. He studies her for a moment, “I’m kind of dying to know how else we can put that tongue of yours to work.” 

She licks her lips, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Bellamy smirks, “You saying you want my mouth back on your cunt, Princess?” 

Clarke nods, “Fuck… Yeah, I do.” Her little whine makes his head spin. “I want it so bad… And Bellamy?” She adds, “I want to suck your cock.” 

Fuck…” Is all he can really say, because yeah, he wants her to suck his cock, too. Really fucking wants it. He’s glad they’ve finally found something they can agree on. He crushes the skin of her mons harshly in his fist, “How about this - After I have my fill of this pretty little pussy, I’ll let you have a turn with my cock. Then you can show me what a good little cocksucker you are. That work for you?” 

She nods quickly, “Mmm hmm.” Her response draws into a wrecked moan when he drops his mouth on her cunt, snaking his tongue in between her folds. Her arousal gushes from her opening and he laps at it with exaggerated slurps. She lets go sinful little whimpers at the sounds that come from between her thighs. 

Bellamy kisses her cunt like he might kiss her mouth, sweeping his tongue between her lips to caress inside, a groan lurching from his chest when his tongue meets the resistance of her hymen. 

“Oh!” She gasps, when he jabs at the flimsy membrane with the stiffened tip of his tongue. He probes at it just a bit, relishing her surprised squeals as he teases the boundary of the tiny hole in the middle. He pulls his head back, then gently thumbs her open, taking a long, greedy look at her glistening cunt. 

He looks up at her when she makes this whining sound, holds her gaze as he presses a soft kiss to her quivering clit, amused by the desperate oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck that falls from her lips in a whisper. 

“Princess, put your hands down here and hold your pussy open for me, okay?” She complies with a little shudder and he feels his cock twitch in his pants. He rubs his palm over himself while she splays her hands over her ass cheeks, catching her fingers on her lips and spreading them wide for him. All spread out like this, he can see that the tiny hole in her hymen is just wide enough for his pinky finger to fit. “This little cunt has never had a cock, but have you put anything else up here?” He asks. 

Her voice is a little shaky, “Uhm, my finger, sometimes. When... you know…”

He chuckles, “When you what, Clarke?” Yeah, he definitely likes when she gets vulgar. 

“When I’m-” She clears her throat, “When I’m touching myself… Sometimes it feels, you know, good…” 

Bellamy smirks, “Yeah, I know… I love it, your cunt is so fucking hungry for a cock, Princess…” He circles his finger around her slit and picks up some of the slick arousal, drawing it away from her cunt and watching the viscous string get thinner until it snaps. He chuckles, “And all you’ve been giving it is a tiny little finger, huh?” 

She sighs, “I haven’t had a lot of options, Bellamy. It’s taken a while to wear you down…” 

He blows out a chest full of air, “I fucking knew it…”

“Knew what?” She asks. 

“That you’ve been waiting for me.” He cocks an eyebrow, “Haven’t you?” 

She groans, “If I say yes, will you fuck me?” 

He gives her a dark look, and it takes every bit of self control he possesses not to just take her right then and there. But he only gets to take her virginity once, and he’s gonna fucking savor it. And maybe, just maybe, he likes the idea of teasing her to madness like she has him for the past several months. 

His voice goes low, resolute. “Princess, make no mistake I’m going to fuck you. That’s not a question.” He huffs, “I’m gonna fuck you so good, you won’t know what hit you. But it’s gonna be on a day when I can take my time with it… I wanna savor these tight walls around my cock for hours, not worrying about your mom coming home for lunch.” He looks her in the eye, “But if you’re a good girl and you just admit it, I’ll make you come.” 

Clarke nods. ”Please…”

Bellamy smiles, his thumb tapping gently on her clit while he speaks, “Sure, Princess. Just tell me what I want to hear.”

Her little whimper goes straight to his cock, and he loves the little war she’s having with her pride. His heart soars when she finally, finally admits, “I’ve been waiting for you, now please, make me come...” 

His breath fans over her cunt, “You got it, Princess.”

Clarke’s fingers dig into her own skin while Bellamy works her over, tongue sliding into her folds and over her throbbing clit. “Oh! Fuck, Bellamy!” She calls out when he wiggles his tongue over her clit, sneaking it underneath the hood. He can tell she’s extremely sensitive directly on the glans, so he touches it with the smooth underside of his tongue instead of abrading it with anything that might hurt it right now.

“Is this when you usually put a finger inside you?” He asks calmly against her pussy.

She nods feverishly, “Mmm hmm, yeah… Yeah, it is.”

He licks into her again, tasting her hymen with his tongue and poking the stiffened end into the tiny hole. He fucks his tongue into her until the widened portion begins to stretch her out. It’s pulled, so taut around his tongue like this. She whimpers a bit and he knows she can feel it. Good. He can’t resist making her feel a little bit more, so he pushes his rigid tongue a little farther until she flinches with a tiny shriek. He makes a hook shape with the tip so he can pluck at her a bit and fuck this is so goddamn addicting.

“Fuck!” She cries, “Keep doing that!” When he rubs his thumb in tight circles over her clit while he drags his tongue with shallow thrusts inside her. He replaces it with his finger and lifts his head away from her cunt so he can get a good look at all of her.

“Princess, when I lick into you again, that’s when I want you to come for me.” She clenches down on his finger, “Not a moment before then. I want to taste your come, Princess... Feel it around my tongue… Will you do that for me?” He delights in the shudder of her body at his command.

“Yes…” She nods, “Yes, I’ll be so good for you.

“That’s a good girl.” He says against her pussy just before he sinks his tongue back into her. It doesn’t take long after that before he sees her body tense up, toes curling, cunt walls quivering… She holds on for a little bit, stubborn little thing, so he rubs more vigorously over her clit until she finally lets her orgasm come crashing through her with a wrecked cry.

Panic floods him at the sharp taste of copper on his tongue. He pulls his head back, frantically pushing her hands out of his way so he can spread her open himself to check. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that there isn’t any obvious damage. “Oh, thank fuck.”

Clarke lets her legs fall slack to her sides. “What’s oh, thank fuck for?”

He sighs, feeling his ears heat up, “I was… a little overzealous down here and I was worried that I had torn my little cunt with my tongue.” He pets her cunt gently while he inspects her a little more carefully, squinting to get a closer look at this perfect little pussy. He hisses when he sees a tiny bit of blood trickle from the lower edge of hole in the flimsy membrane. “Hmm,” He amends, “Actually, I may have to take that back, since it appears that I did get a little too vigorous down here.”

She gasps, “Oh, no, Is it-” She frowns, “Your cock didn’t get-?” He can’t help but feel an obscene satisfaction in her disappointment at the possibility that his cock didn’t get to pop her cherry. He’d share that disappointment tenfold, if he’s being completely honest.

He rubs his hand up and down her thigh in a soothing manner. “No, no, my little cunt is fine. I think when you came on my tongue, you clamped down hard and I stretched you a little more than than you were prepared for. That’s all.”

She nods, “Okay, but like, it’s still there?"

He massages her thigh, “Yeah, Princess. It’s still there.”

Clarke makes this happy little sighing noise in the back of her throat. “Oh, that’s good.”

“Very good,” He agrees.

She teases her toe along his thigh, grazing his painfully hard cock. “Now, we still need to take care of you…”

Bellamy smirks, “Yeah, and I know just what I wanna do, too.” He turns her around so she faces away from him, then guides her to lie down on her back and tugs her body down the mattress until her head hangs over the edge.

“Oh, fuck, yeah.” She grins while he pulls his cock out of his pants, licking her lips while he gives himself a few tugs. It seems she likes the upside-down view.

“C'mon, Princess... Show me what you’ve got.”

Clarke’s responding moan is fucking hypnotizing in its neediness. Her eyes are lecherously fixated on Bellamy’s cock, and he almost wants to stop a moment to pinch himself, because is this fucking real?  His step-daughter is splayed out on her back, stark naked and skin flushed from orgasm, licking her lips with excitement because she’s about to have her face fucked. She reaches out with a cupped hand and cradles his shaft to her cheek. 

“Mmm… Look at this cock. It’s so perfect...” Her voice takes on this smoky, sultry flavor that he can’t recall ever hearing before, and he’s already sure he’ll do anything to keep hearing it, because jesus fucking christ… She makes little nibbling motions with her lips along his length, teasing with sinful little kisses because she’s clearly a fucking expert at this.

Bellamy finds himself wondering who taught her this, whose cock she’s played with before his. She’s only fifteen, and already has slut-worthy teasing skills with grown men’s cocks. He’s irrationally furious about it. There must be some boy who came before him… He needs to know who that boy is. He wants to find him and tear him limb from fucking limb. String him from a goddamn tree, make an example of him, show everyone not to take what belongs to him. He’s jolted from his thoughts by an overwhelming rush of pleasure that comes when Clarke’s tongue practically buzzes against the underside of his cock, concentrating where the inner foreskin meets his glans, and jesus christ it’s a miracle he’s still standing upright. 

“Oh, holy fuck, Princess…” He groans, loudly and apparently without concern for volume. He makes a mental note to be thankful that nobody was home the first time Clarke Griffin got her hungry mouth on his cock, because he’s pretty sure he can’t bring himself to give a single fuck about who could have heard him. 

Before he can give any direction, she collects her own saliva and lets it pool on her tongue, then slides it along his shaft. She groans at precome that drips from the slit. He can’t see her eyes from this angle, but he can see the filthy grin on her mouth while she guides his tip to her lips, painting them with the sticky substance before finally taking him into the wet heat of her.

He pulls back a little, teases her and laughs when she whines for him to give it back. “I need it, please, Sir.”

Bellamy pulls all the way back, slowly stroking himself while he asks, “Sir? Why Sir?”

Clarke’s jaw goes slack, and she looks sheepish like she’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “I, uh, I don’t-” She stammers.

“Clarke, where did you hear Sir?” She presses her lips together in a firm line, apparently thinking she’s going to keep this to herself. But that won’t do. He grabs hold of her breast, rakes his fingernail over the nipple, then pinches it between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a hard twist, “Answer the question.”

She shrieks out, “You!” He gives some slack on the twist of her nipple, but doesn’t release it just yet.

“Elaborate, please.”

She whimpers when he twists again, “It’s what mom calls you!”

Bellamy huffs, “That’s right. And that’s a special title that only Abby uses.” He shakes his head, “It’s not for you, Sweetheart.”

Clarke looks a little frightened, like maybe she’s displeased him, and he tamps down a surge of ascendancy at the idea of prim and proper little Clarke Griffin, seeking his approval and cowering at the notion that she lost it.

“I’m sorry,” She tells him. “I won’t say it again.” She fixes her eyes on his cock again and licks her lips.

Bellamy smirks, “You want my cock back, Princess?”

Her eyes swim with lust when she nods, “Fuck, please, I do… Please, give it to me.” Her breathy voice leaves him a little light headed. The constant shift from vixen to frightened virgin is almost like whiplash, but he doesn’t let that show.

“Alright, alright…” He considers her for a moment. “I think... I want to fuck your face.” Clarke nods with a loud, wordless moan. He traces her lips with his thumb, shivers at the way her tongue darts out to meet the digit. She lets her arms fall to her sides and he takes a moment to rake his gaze over her naked body before him.

”Please! “She begs.

Who is he to deny her?

“Okay, Princess,” He chuckles as he feeds his cock into her hungry mouth. He gets it in about a third of the way before she makes a gagging sound. He begins to pull back, concerned she's choking, but she whirls a hand above her head and meets his thigh, grasping the back of it and pulling him forward again. She gives a proud little sound as he returns to that depth. He sinks a little deeper, and she makes a proud noise as if to say, See? See how much I can take? 

He advances even deeper and feels the tip of his cock meet the back of her throat. She gags again, and he hears sniffles. He bites back a groan when he imagines tears coming to her eyes, unused to the strain of a full-sized cock testing its boundaries. 

He retreats just a bit, gives her a moment to breathe, then pushes forward again, this time pressing on her throat, reveling in the stubborn gagging sounds she can't seem to hold in. Just as he pulls back again, she grips his thigh and pulls him forward again, and he's right there.

He groans, his voice wrecked, “Oh, Jesus fucking christ, Clarke,” at the blissful treatment to the head of his cock, being suckled by the spasming muscles of her throat. She makes a tiny little nod, about all she can manage with so much filling her mouth. She loosens her grip on his thigh, instead caresses her hand over it, light as a feather. 

He’s not going to last long like this, and he knows she’ll be completely insufferable if he comes too soon. Part of him thinks, maybe she deserves to be a little cocky about this skill because holy fuck… Still, he thinks at this angle, she’ll be able to take him all down. He certainly intends to try. He finds it difficult to look anywhere but his cock where it’s impaling her mouth, but in his periphery, he sees her cross her ankles, squeezing her thighs tightly together. He scrubs a hand over his face, because of course she’s getting herself off. 

He huffs, “You little menace… Does sucking my cock turn you on that much?” She tries to nod, but can’t get much movement beyond the same tiny ones she gave him earlier. He pulls out most of the way, lets her recover for a moment. “You wanna come again, this time with my cock in your mouth?” 

She smiles all filthy around the head of his cock, flicks her tongue over the slit. He shakes his head in disbelief, because who the fuck knew, Clarke Griffin was such a little slut? 

“Yeah, okay. But you gotta spread your legs wide, little one. I want a nice view of that pretty pussy.” She parts her legs, bending her knees and tilting her hips up a bit to give him a good look. She’s such a good girl like that. “You’re gonna show me how you touch yourself while I fuck your pretty little face, yeah?” 

She groans, a mind-blowingly debased sound, as he pushes forward again, this time opening her throat and taking him deep. She brings her hand to her pussy, slides her fingers in her folds before dipping into her little slit. Her legs flinch when she grazes her clit, hips canting forward as she rubs gentle little circles, all while taking him down her throat. 

“Oh, fuck…” He looks down at his cock, completely buried. The tissues in her neck are displaced by his girth, and fuck if that image doesn’t make him nearly blow his load. “Princess, I can fucking see my cock in your neck.” He gently touches over the area with his fingertips, and maybe he's just imagining things, but he swears he can see the twitch of his cock as much as he can feel it. “Fuck, that’s so hot.” 

He pulls back a little, slamming his eyes shut at the heavenly suction of her throat around him as he withdraws. She gulps for air as he pulls clear of her airway, then he shoves back in again, spit trailing from the corners of her mouth. Her fingers keep working her clit and her legs start to close. He pulls out of her mouth entirely, smiles at her disappointed whimper. “Nuh uh, keep those legs open for me,” he admonishes. “I wanna see your pussy when you come. I can’t very well do that if you’re hiding it, can I?” 

She drops her knees back open, the outsides of her thighs flat on the mattress. “Like this?” She asks. 

He drives back into her, makes her take it all. “Yeah, Princess. Just like that.”

It’s not long before he can feel himself nearing the edge. The visual before him would be enough to make a lesser man blow his load long ago - cock buried deep in her throat, legs splayed wide open so her pretty little cunt is in full view for him, her sinful fingers rubbing tight circles over her clit… Then add the heavenly massaging sensation of her throat spasms, forgive him for lasting just a few minutes. 

He manages to tell her, “I’m about to come, but don’t swallow all of it just yet, understood?” 

Clarke gives him a thumbs-up, which would make him laugh if he wasn’t in world of indescribable bliss right now. “Oh, fuck, fuck…” He chokes out, loudly, while he comes, the first of it spilling straight down her throat. He pulls back and feels the next spurt paint her mouth, messy warmth coating the tip of him. Finally he withdraws completely so that he can finish off, marking her like some primitive cave man… The whole thing is so erotic, it makes him want to come all over again - ropes of white coming to land on her face and chin, her neck, and her delicious tits.

She chokes out unintelligible sounds, mouth gurgling with his come. She’s so good like this… 

“Open that mouth, sweetheart, I wanna see.” She complies, eyes heated, and he pushes her chin open a little more so he can see his come pooled on the roof of her mouth. “Fuck, that’s a good girl… You like the taste of my come?” She moans and swirls her tongue in it, then sticks it out for him to see. He smiles, “Such a good girl…” He taps the side of her cheek, “You can swallow it now.” 

She does so with a moan, one hand coming up to her tits to rub in the come that landed on them, the other still hard at work between her thighs. He’s almost light-headed after his own orgasm, but fuck, he wants to taste her again. No, he needs to…

“Fuck, get over here, let me...” She picks her head up, and in one swift motion, he reaches forward and hooks his hand under her knee and pivots her, meeting halfway and sliding onto the bed on his stomach. He hooks her legs over his shoulders with a filthy smirk. “I gotta get my mouth back on my sweet little cunt,” He says, then engulfs her entire pussy. 

Clarke cries out with the contact, and as he sinks his tongue into her, he feels her pulsating walls squeeze him. He slams his eyes closed, because holy fuck, he caught her mid-orgasm... He lifts his head away a moment, “Fuck, you were already coming, weren’t you?” Her legs shake, her voice ragged as she nods her head with a moan. 

He tsks with a grin, because he’s not done yet. He covers her with his mouth again and sucks her, hard. Her legs clamp around the side of his head like a vice grip. She’s so wet, she’s already dripping down his chin, and he slurps every bit of her up like the greedy man he is. He stiffens his tongue and pushes it into her, feeling again that protective sliver of tissue over her opening. It’s almost like he needs to confirm it’s still there. He knows, it’s already becoming an obsession - her hymen. He reminds himself to be patient. He knows he wants to take it, but only gets to do it once… 

He feels her body tense up as she gulps for air while he holds her down and draws another orgasm out of her. She gives in with a broken moan, back arched with her ankles crossed behind his head. Her body shakes while she comes back down and he feels a distinct satisfaction that he’s got Clarke Griffin speechless and quivering. He carefully pries her legs from behind his head with a soft chuckle and she lets them fall limp to the bed. 

“Oh god,” She pants, looking up at him, her chin and neck still covered with smears of his come. She’s a fucking wreck, and it’s all because of him

Bellamy holds eye contact while he lowers his mouth one more time to her cunt, her arousal still dripping out. He presses a long, slow kiss over her clit, then pets it with his fingers, looking down at it sweetly. “I want you to keep this nice and pretty for me, alright?” 

She nods, props herself up on her elbows, “Okay.” 

“I like it bare like this,” He says as he strokes her labia. “How about you use some of that obnoxious allowance of yours on something longer-lasting, like a wax.” He thumbs her open again, looking at her cunt almost clinically as he continues, “Then it’ll stay all bare for me and you don’t have to concern yourself unsightly razor burn.” He smirks at her affronted expression. 

She clears her throat, “I’ll think about it.” She adds, “I mean, I’m not a fan of razor burn.” She’s still the Princess, and resistant to being ordered around… 

He continues, massaging her pussy lips between his fingers, “Also, take it easy in gym class. I don’t want you to tear this up before my cock gets a chance, yeah?” 

She nods again with a swallow, “Yeah... Careful. I can be careful.” 

He tilts his head to the side, “I’ll be checking on my little cunt regularly. Understood?”

She shivers with a smile, “Okay.” 

Bellamy slides off the bed and re-situates his cock back in his pants, then ties the flannel drawstring. He licks his lips, his mouth watering a little at the faint reminder of Clarke's taste. He stops by her bed on the way out the door, wipes his thumb along her chin, gathering up the come still there.

“And Princess?” He asks as he paints it onto her lips. He smiles at the way she automatically sucks the digit into her mouth, laving her tongue over it until it’s all clean.

“Hmm?” She asks, eyes drinking him in.

He chuckles, pats her cheek as he withdraws his thumb. He gestures broadly at her wrecked form, “You’re a fucking mess… Get cleaned up before your mom gets home.”