Lost Love Found [ #Wattys2015 ] {Bellarke}

Adoration

Bellamy's POV

Clarke was curled up in Bellamy's arms like a kitten - a sleeping kitten with all claws and a whole lot of bite.

Her naked skin was cool as her legs tangled with his under the bedsheets. Bellamy had learned very quickly that Clarke had some of the coldest feet on the entire planet. She also happened to have the cutest tendency to nuzzle his neck in her sleep - like she was doing now.

Bellamy chuckled, the feeling of her lips on his throat electrifying his skin. Slipping a hand across Clarke's waist, his fingers started to skim her bare back, traveling upwards into her hair. Her golden curls, freshly washed and smelling of lavender, bounced back after every gentle tug.

"Bellamy..." she murmured, her breath teasing his collarbone.

Immediately and instinctively, he rolled onto his side and pulled her nearer, wanting her closer. "Yes?"

Clarke mumbled something into his skin that he couldn't discern, something that sounded a lot like hot and sex. Bellamy chuckled.

Images from earlier that night came flooding back - explicit, X rated images. Bellamy and Clarke tearing off each other's clothes, Bellamy and Clarke sweating and writhing in the sheets - Bellamy and Clarke declaring their love for one another while wrapped in one another's embrace.

Love. She had said she loved him.

No one, no one save for Octavia had ever told Bellamy that they loved him. Clarke was only the second person in the entire universe to have spoken those words to him. And, coming from her lips, those words had never sounded so beautiful or so meaningful.

Suddenly, Clarke stirred in his arms, stretched out her muscles and roughly pinned his arms back onto the mattress. She was on top of him in the second that it took him to draw in a breath. And Bellamy grinned up at her, the devil's smile playing across his lips.

Eyeing him coyly, Clarke bent down and nipped at his ear. "Bell..." she breathed. "Bellamy, where did you learn to do that?"

"Do what?" He replied, his fingers skimming up along her thighs, lips grazing her jaw.

"That thing that you did with your tongue..." Clarke's hands became entangled with his dark hair as she kissed him - slowly.

"Years of practice." Bellamy mumbled getting lost in the taste of her skin, the smoothness of her stomach. Clarke was a work of art - complete with scars and curves and dirt beneath her fingernails.

He had never known a girl to love the thrill of dominance in the sheets as much as Clarke did. She loved to overpower him just as much as she loved it when he overpowered her.

Abruptly, Clarke sat up. Several moments later, Bellamy joined her, staring curiously at the frown etched across her lips. "What is it?" He asked, cupping her cheek.

"How many girls have you been with Bellamy Blake?" Clarke's tone was not angry nor was it soft.

Bellamy sighed. Of all the questions she could've asked... "Clarke -"

"I want to know, please." She didn't sound desperate, just curious.

This time, when he kissed her lips, he was gentle, hoping that she could taste his desire, his adoration. He was showing his love - declaring it.

"I've been with more women than I can count," he whispered. "But, none of that matters. It doesn't matter because I have you. You and I are the same, Clarke. We have fire coursing through our veins and passion in our hearts - we protect those we love with ferocity."

Cocking her head to the side, Clarke's eyes followed her hands as they explored Bellamy's chest. "We have to get back to them..."

"I know," Bellamy replied, forcing his voice to remain steady as her fingers traveled downwards. "We'll figure something out."

Clarke laughed softly and looked at him. "We always do."

Bellamy fell back against the pillows. Moments later, Clarke's head was on his shoulder and she was lying quietly beside him. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. Never before had he ever wanted to kiss someone again so badly. He wanted to kiss her, to touch Clarke until the end of days.

However, if they were to escape the mansion, they would have to be well rested and well alert.  Bellamy couldn't risk losing Clarke - not after tonight. Whoever bombed the coalition was still out there, probably waiting for them. Friend or foe, he didn't know. Bellamy just hoped that he and Clarke had a home to return to.

He looked down Clarke who was already fast asleep in his arms. Softly, he pressed his lips to her temple.

She didn't stir.

"Love you, Princess," he murmured into her lavender smelling hair.

And, just like that, he closed his eyes and fell asleep holding his partner - his co-leader, in his arms. He fell into oblivion so quickly, he didn't hear her whisper the words back.