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If there’s one thing Bellamy has learned about Clarke Griffin in the twelve years she’s been friends with his sister, it’s that she’s a good girl. Octavia is wild, rash, rebellious. Clarke is sensible, level-headed, well-behaved. He’s always been thankful that Octavia has Clarke to even her out a little. To stop her acting on her most insane whims, if not all of them. Even a control-freak like Clarke has her limits.
It’s why he’s so surprised when he walks into his living room on the first day of summer break, and Clarke slams her laptop shut. He stops, the two popsicles he’d brought in for her and Octavia dripping onto his hands. He’s even more curious now that she obviously doesn’t want him to see what she’s doing.
She and Octavia eye each other, and a pretty blush covers Clarke’s face and chest. Of course she’s wearing the skimpiest little crop top he’s seen in his life, almost all cleavage. It would be a nightmare if it wasn’t such a fantasy. He can say that now, he thinks. She’s nineteen, just finished her first year of college. He’s allowed to find her attractive now.
He honestly didn’t think it would be an issue when he agreed to let her stay with him and Octavia over the summer, after a falling out with her mom over her college major. He’s always managed to keep his eyes and his hands to himself, no matter how tempting she is.
But he’s never seen her wear so many tiny little dresses, and skimpy crop tops with tiny shorts. Or in her fucking bikini after she and Octavia get back from the public pool. All he wants to do is put his hands on her all the time. It’s maddening. And that embarrassed, faux-innocent look she’s giving him now isn’t helping matters.
He hands over the popsicles, squinting at them.
“What are you two up to?” he asks.
“Nothing,” Clarke says quickly. “Just homework.”
“It’s summer break,” he reminds her. “College doesn’t give out homework over the summer break.”
“You know me,” Clarke laughs nervously. “Just getting a head start on next year’s coursework.”
It would be believable, coming from her, if she wasn’t acting so fucking cagey. “Clarke,” he drawls, not falling for it.
“We’re watching porn,” Octavia says, and Bellamy wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Clarke goes even redder. His stomach lurches at the thought of Clarke watching porn, even if he can really only imagine her watching the most vanilla kind.
“No, we aren’t!” Clarke hisses, elbowing Octavia. Octavia gives her a look of exasperation. Clarke takes a breath, then looks at Bellamy. “It’s really none of your business,” she says primly. And then she licks and long, slow stripe up her popsicle that almost makes Bellamy combust.
Bellamy rolls his eyes, and concedes victory to her. It’s Clarke, how bad could it possibly be? Maybe she’s Facebook stalking a hot professor or something. Harmless, even if it does make something akin to jealousy flare up in his chest.
“By the way, Octavia,” Bellamy says. “What the fuck is up with you failing one of your classes this semester?”
Octavia’s eyes go wide, and she gives Clarke an accusatory look. Clarke grimaces, looking sheepish.
“Clarke is auctioning off her virginity to the highest bidder,” Octavia blurts. Clarke chokes on her popsicle, and Bellamy chokes on the very air he’s breathing.
“Excuse me?” She’s a virgin. She’s a virgin. His cock jumps at the thought. Fucking hell. It’s a sick, primitive reaction. But the thought of her being untouched almost pushes him over the edge. The thought that he could be the first.
Octavia snatches the laptop from Clarke’s hands, and Clarke barely even protests, too shell-shocked by her best friend’s betrayal. Octavia opens the laptop, and the screen lights up to a crudely made website with a smiling picture of Clarke at the top. Octavia wordlessly hands Bellamy the laptop so he can read what’s on the screen, and a small anguished cry leaves the back of Clarke’s throat.
Bellamy ignores her, and starts to read.
My name is Clarke Griffin, and welcome to my virginity auction. I’m 19-years-old, and have just finished my first year of college.
Let me be clear, I don’t believe in the concept of virginity. It’s outdated, heteronormative, and frankly disturbing. But if you want to get your rocks off to the fact that I’ve never had sex before, who am I to stop you? And I may as well raise some money for charity while I’m at it.
Bidding starts at $100. All proceeds go to victims of sexual assault.
Bellamy’s blood pressure skyrockets as he’s reading. A virginity auction? And she thinks the concept of virginity is disturbing, as if this isn’t ten times worse.
“You can’t be serious,” he says. He’s fuming. Pulse racing, jaw tight. “Take this down right now. What is wrong with you?”
“This is exactly why I didn’t want you to see,” Clarke snaps. Octavia watches in amusement, happily eating her popsicle now that the heat is off her and on Clarke. “I knew you wouldn’t get it.”
“Get it? What the fuck is there to get? You’re selling yourself online to any creep with enough money to buy you. It’s sickening.”
Clarke scoffs. “So you’re anti sex work now, are you? As if you don’t watch porn, as if you don’t have an onlyfans subscription.”
“This is completely different from that, and you know it,” he hisses.
“How is it different?”
“Because—because—” he sputters. He knows it’s different. But he doesn’t know if it’s different just because it’s her or because of some actual, legitimate reason that his brain isn’t quite able to articulate at the moment.
“That’s what I thought,” she says haughtily. “It’s none of your business. It’s my body and I can do what I want with it.”
“How can you be okay with some sleazy pervert touching you? Taking your virginity? Don’t you want it to be with someone you’re at least attracted to?” he says desperately. Clarke’s glare is as scorching as the blush on her skin.
“Did I not make it perfectly clear that I think the entire concept of virginity is archaic? What does it matter who my first time is with?”
Bellamy wants to continue arguing he does. But he’s at a loss for words. Because all he can fucking think is it matters because it should be him. And he can’t say that.
Clarke gives him a triumphant look, when it’s clear he doesn’t have another counter argument.
“I’ll be in my room,” she says, taking the laptop from him, sucking on her popsicle as she sashays out of the room.
Bellamy looks to Octavia, who’s smirking mischievously. He scowls at her.
“Don’t think you’re off the hook,” he snarls, and then he storms from the room.
-
He didn’t mean to memorise the URL. Or maybe he did. He waits until he’s sure both girls are asleep, and then he gets out his laptop and types it in. He knows nothing about computers, but maybe he can think of a way to get the site shut down. That’s the only reason he’s looking.
His heart stops when he sees the bidding is already up to two grand, and still five days left. Fuck, two grand, that’s almost his entire savings. How do people have this much money to burn? To throw away on the virginity of a girl they don’t even know?
Because the truth is, Bellamy actually agrees with Clarke about one thing. The whole concept of virginity is fucked up. As if it’s something that can be taken, as if penis-in-vagina sex is the be all and end all of sexual experiences. It’s a way to control women, shame them for being sexual beings. And then on the other end of the spectrum, used to shame men too, used as a way to measure their level of masculinity. Like you’re not really a man until you’ve put your cock inside someone. So yeah, he thinks the whole thing is bullshit, just like she does.
And yet, there’s still that primal, feral reaction in his chest when he thinks about someone else touching Clarke before he does. The irrepressible instinct to make her his. He’s not proud of it. He’s deeply, deeply ashamed of it, in fact. But he can’t let it happen. Can’t let her give herself to some random stranger who won’t know how to treat her right, who probably won’t even make her come before they blow their load and wipe their hands clean of her. She deserves better than that.
And that’s the only reason he bids, honestly. He has no ulterior motives about winning her virginity. No fantasies about her being relieved it’s him, happy even. He’d be so gentle with her. Kiss her slow, strip her naked. Touch her all over with his hands, and then with his tongue. Lick her pussy until she comes in his mouth, until she begs him to fuck her, to take her virginity, because she secretly always wanted it to be him. He’d have to be so careful with her—her tight little pussy wouldn’t take his big cock easily. But he’d get her nice and wet, take her slow, then fuck her to orgasm, make her come on his cock. And then, ideally, she’d never want to sleep with anyone else ever again.
Okay, so his motives aren’t entirely pure. He wants her, and he doesn’t want anyone else touching her. So even if it doesn’t play out the way it does in his head, at least he will have put off the inevitability of her fucking someone else a little longer. Maybe if she starts dating someone, and she loses her virginity to them, he’ll be able to live with it. He wishes he could convince himself of that.
So he raises the bid $200, under the name Billy Augustus, and hopes to god it’s enough.
-
He checks the site the moment he wakes up. His gut drops when he sees the bids are now at $3100. Another $400 and he’ll have exhausted his savings. He only bids an extra $100 this time, the lowest amount possible. Maybe smaller increments will help the bidding stay low.
Except when he checks again at lunch, on his phone this time, it’s already nearly at four thousand. He groans, bidding another hundred, despite not having a clue where he’s going to get the money. He knows he’s acting out of his mind. It’s ludicrous to spend even a hundred dollars on a girl’s virginity. But this is Clarke. No sum is too great, as far as he’s concerned.
He hastily pockets his phone as she wanders into the kitchen, only just up for the day. Octavia will probably be in bed for another hour at least. Bellamy lets them have this. They’re young, and on summer break. May as well enjoy sleeping in while they can.
He watches her as she starts the espresso machine, getting it ready to make herself an iced coffee. She doesn’t like it hot, for some reason.
She’d kill him if she knew what he was doing. She’ll be livid if he actually wins. Is it stupid to think that he’ll actually be able to collect if he happens to be the highest bidder? She’ll likely never speak to him again, let alone have sex with him. He’d never force her—but would he be a dick enough to guilt her into it? Remind her how much he paid to have her first?
She finally turns to him, and he feels his pants tighten as he takes in today’s outfit. She always comes out freshly showered, hair and make-up done, fully dressed. Although fully might be the wrong word. She’s fucking braless, in a halter top and tennis skirt. He wants to back her against the counter, put his hand up her skirt, pull that flimsy string holding her top on, feel her naked tits against his chest. Bend her over and show her how a cock feels.
“I just wanted to apologise,” Clarke says, jolting Bellamy from his fantasy. His face goes hot, from guilt and embarrassment. And she’s apologising? He’s the one having dirty fantasies about a girl he’s known since she was seven. And sure, she’s not seven now. But he’d be lying if he said the fantasies didn’t start until she was eighteen. He’s eight years older than her. He was twenty-three, lusting after a sixteen-year-old. And now he’s fucking bidding on her virginity. He’s sick. The most despicable kind of person.
“What for?”
“Snapping at you yesterday,” she says. “I know you’re just trying to look out for me. Same as you would for Octavia.”
Right, because she sees him as an older brother, and assumes he sees her like a little sister. And he had, once. Until those fucking magnificent tits blossomed.
He shakes his head. “I was out of line. You’re right, it’s not my business. I still wish you wouldn’t do it. But my reaction was unwarranted.”
Clarke nods. “Thanks.”
“You know I agree with you, right? That virginity is just a construct?”
“I mean, I assumed you did, until yesterday.”
“It’s not that I think you need to save yourself for someone special. I just—I’d want you to enjoy it.”
Her cheeks turn a pretty pink colour. “Who says my chances are better with someone I like, rather than with a stranger?”
Bellamy shrugs. “At least you could have fun, even if you don’t necessarily come.”
“I don’t like anyone right now, anyway,” she mutters, tugging at the hem of her tiny skirt. “No one who wants me.”
He swallows. Is that what this is about? She has a crush on someone who doesn’t like her back, so she’s lashing out by selling her virginity online?
“Then what’s the rush?” he says gently.
Her skin breaks out in a deep red. “Um,” she says. “I just really, really want to have sex,” she admits. The mild way to put it. What he hears is that she’s immeasurably horny, and she needs someone to fuck her good and hard and as soon as possible.
“Oh,” is all he can manage.
“Sorry,” she says quickly. “You didn’t need to know that.”
“I asked,” he reminds her. “You’re still going to go through with it, aren’t you?”
Clarke nods. Once she’s made up her mind about something, there’s no changing it. She’s stubborn like that.
Bellamy sighs. “Just—be safe, okay? Make sure someone knows where you are, that you have an escape plan if you need it. God knows it’s got to be perverted, sleazy men bidding on girls’ virginities on the internet.”
“I’ll be safe,” Clarke agrees. She finishes making her iced coffee, and heads back to her room. Bellamy places another bid on her virginity.
-
He puts his car up for sale. He’s reached absolute levels of insanity, he knows that. But he knows he can get an easy four grand, maybe more. And hopefully have some of it left over. He’s been meaning to start riding his bike more anyway.
The car sells for five thousand. He means to put some of it back in his savings, honestly. He’s always been practical with money, careful. Never spending more than he needed, always having a little bit stashed away for back up, in case of an emergency, like if Octavia’s scholarship falls through, or if there’s a house fire or a flood and insurance doesn’t cover it.
But then Clarke’s auction hits 9k, and he bids the lot. He can’t stop himself. It’s less than twenty-four hours until bids close, and he’s so, so close. So close he can almost taste her cunt.
She has no idea, of course. And he feels horribly guilty, sick self-loathing pooling in his stomach whenever he looks at her. But the guilt isn’t enough to overcome the utter need he feels for her. If someone else has her first, he thinks he might actually lose his mind. Provided he hasn’t lost it already. And he’s not entirely sure he hasn’t.
The bids are slower now, at least. Bellamy is still only bidding $100 at a time, every few hours. But it keeps creeping up, over nine thousand, and he’s bidding money he doesn’t have, but it doesn’t matter, he’ll get it somehow. He has to. If he has to beg, borrow, or steal it. He will have Clarke’s virginity.
The bidding closes at midnight on a Thursday night. Bellamy sits on his bed, the glow of his laptop lighting up his face as he counts down the minutes. He’s not currently the highest bidder. But he’s planning on waiting until the last second to place his final bid.
His stomach churns as the timer reaches the last ten seconds. The cursor hovers over the bid button. This last $100 will take it up to $9900. He has his 3.5k in savings, and the 5k from the sale of his car. He can probably scrape together another $200 if he tries. He might have to live off the meagre supply of food he has in his house for a couple of weeks if he can’t afford to go grocery shopping. But it will be worth it.
Even still, he’s 1.2k short. According to the terms and conditions on the bottom of Clarke’s webpage, he’ll have two days to find the rest.
3, 2—he hits the bid button. A second later, the option becomes no longer available. The screen proclaims Billy Augustus the highest bidder. He sags in relief. He won her. Now he just has to find the remaining money—that’s the easy part. The hard part will be convincing Clarke to keep her end of the bargain, despite Billy Augustus being none other than Bellamy Blake.
-
Miller lends him $500. Murphy lends him $500 with the promise that he’ll pay it back with interest. Desperate, and still $200 short, he puts some of his hardcover, special edition books on Facebook Marketplace. It hurts him to part with them. But not as much as it would hurt him to know Clarke got fucked by someone other than him.
They sell for $250. At least he’ll have $50 to live off before he gets paid again next week. The buyer comes to pick them up on Friday afternoon, and Clarke answers the door.
“Er, hi,” the woman, Gina, says to Clarke, as Bellamy gathers the books from where he’d left them on the kitchen table. “I’m looking for Bellamy? I’m here for the books.”
“What books?”
“Coming!” Bellamy calls. He reaches the door, and Clarke steps out of the way. Gina hands him a wad of cash, and he relinquishes the books to her. “Careful, they’re heavy,” he grins.
“I think I’ll manage,” Gina says, rolling her eyes, slight smile on her lips. “Thanks again.”
Bellamy waits until she reaches her car until he shuts the door, in case she can’t actually manage and drops them all in his front yard. He starts when he turns as sees Clarke pouting at him.
“You’re selling your books? Why? You love those books.”
Bellamy shrugs. “I need the money.”
“I could lend you some,” Clarke says. Bellamy brushes past her, and she follows him into the living room.
“Your mom could lend me some, you mean,” he snorts, collapsing onto the couch. Despite their falling out, and the fact that Clarke is living with him and not Abby, Abby is still paying her daughter’s way. The fight can’t have been that bad.
Clarke shrugs. “Whatever. If it’s that bad you have to sell your most prized possessions, I’m happy to help out.”
“I don’t need your charity, Clarke,” he huffs. “Especially not with this.”
“You’re letting me live here rent free, it’s the least I could do.”
“What’s the least you could do?” Octavia asks, waltzing into the room. She flops onto the couch beside Bellamy, and grabs a chip from the bowl on the coffee table. “Give him a blow job to show how grateful you are for his hospitality?” she cackles.
Bellamy groans. “God, Octavia. Grow up.” He glances at Clarke, her cheeks tinged pink.
“Can I borrow the car tomorrow?” Octavia asks, shovelling more chips into her mouth.
“No.”
“Why not?” she whines.
“I sold it.”
“You sold it?” Octavia gasps. Clarke looks equally as shocked. “Why? Are you in some kind of trouble? Do you owe money to a gang?”
Bellamy snorts. “No. It was too expensive to run. I don’t need a car. I’ll ride my bike to work.”
“God,” Octavia huffs. “No consideration for my needs. I’ll have to ask Lincoln for a ride.” She storms off, leaving Clarke and Bellamy alone.
“If it’s that bad—”
“No, Clarke,” he snaps, too harshly. He feels guilty enough as it is, without her offering money to pay for her own virginity to be taken by him. She flinches, and he feels even worse. “Just drop it, okay?” he says, more softly. “It’s not your concern.”
After all, it’s not. At least not in the way she thinks it is.
-
He gets an email to his fake email address that he set up especially for his persona, Billy Augustus. A date, a time, the name of a hotel, and a room number.
He showers, shaves, dabs on some cologne. He dresses up. God, he’s nervous. He’s so fucking nervous. What if she’s so mad she never speaks to him again? What if she thinks he’s a disgusting creep, like every other man bidding on her probably was? What if she laughs in his face?
“Where are you going?” Octavia asks as he passes the living room on his way out.
“Got a date.”
“What if Clarke needs you?”
He stops. “Why would she need me?”
“She’s losing her virginity tonight. She told me to tell you where she is immediately if I get an SOS text.”
Bellamy’s heart lurches. He’s an asshole, he’s really an asshole. She trusts him enough to be the person she’d turn to if she’s in trouble. Meanwhile, he’s the one she needs protecting from.
He swallows thickly. “She’ll be fine,” he croaks. “Call me if you need to.”
He takes a cheque, for the exact amount of $9900. It’s all he has. And he’s spending it all on her.
He goes to the front desk at the hotel, gives his fake name, and the receptionist hands him a key card. Room 205.
His heart thrashes wildly in his chest as he takes the elevator up to the second floor, and it only gets worse when he finds room 205, and then there’s only a door separating him from Clarke’s virginity. Well, a door and Clarke’s wrath.
He takes a deep breath, and presses the key card against the panel on the door. It makes a happy beeping noise, and the light flashes green. He pushes the door open.
She’s on the bed, in black lingerie, her tits almost spilling out of it. God, she looks so fucking sexy. He feels a surge of anger. She really would’ve let anybody take it. Dressed up like this for some stranger, let him touch her, put his dirty hands all over her perfect body. Given away what’s rightfully his.
“Bellamy?” she squeaks, flying off the bed. Her lingerie is almost completely sheer, he realises now. He can see her nipples through the lace. Her panties slip into her slit, her labia on display. Her arm flies across her chest, her other hand between her legs to cover her pussy. “What the fuck are you doing here? Did Octavia tell you where I’d be?”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Bellamy hisses. “Laying yourself out like that, like a fucking buffet, ready for the taking.”
“Fuck you!” Clarke hisses, blushing from the roots of her hair to the tops of her breasts. “I told you, you can’t stop me. You have no right to be here.”
“I have every right to be here.”
“It’s my virginity. It’s my business. It’s got nothing to do with you.” She’s so mad, and so embarrassed, and fuck if his cock is aching at the sight of her.
“You think I’d let you give yourself to some creepy stranger? It’s not happening. No fucking way. No one is touching you.”
“What are you going to do? Chain me up in your basement to stop me from ever having sex?”
“Clarke,” he groans. “For fuck’s sake.” He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. Anger isn’t helping. This is not going the way he imagined it in his head. “Just—come home. You don’t have to do it this way. You’ve got plenty of time to lose your virginity to someone you actually want.”
“No I don’t,” Clarke groans. “If I don’t just get it over with, get some random stranger to do it, if I wait for someone I actually want, it will never happen. Because you won’t fucking do it!”
Bellamy’s breath catches, and Clarke’s eyes widen as she realises what she’s said. She wants him to do it.
“I didn’t mean—” she starts, but she trails off. “I—” she stammers, even more embarrassed now.
Bellamy pulls the cheque out of his back pocket, and puts it on the little table by the door.
“Here’s a cheque for ten thousand dollars. I bought your virginity. And I have every intention of claiming it.”
The catch in Clarke’s breathing is audible across the room.
“You?” she gasps. “You’re Billy Augustus?”
Bellamy nods. He takes four long, purposeful strides, until he’s standing right in front of her.
“Are you going to give me what I paid for?” he whispers. “What’s rightfully mine?” She shivers, and then she nods.
He claims her mouth with a searing kiss. Her guarded, embarrassed posture immediately drops, and she leans into him, letting her mouth fall open so he can slip his tongue inside. A needy sigh escapes her, and he deepens the kiss as she responds to him, kissing him back, moulding her body to his.
She clings to his shirt, and he can feel her trembling in his arms. He wraps his thick arms around her tiny body and hoists her up, carrying her over to the bed. He lays her down and steps back to admire his prize for a moment.
“Did you sell your car for me?” she asks, breathy. “Your books?”
Bellamy nods. “I would’ve sold everything I own before I let someone else touch you,” he says. Clarke whines in response. It turns her on, he realises. Despite all her grandstanding about virginity being a construct, she secretly wants to be claimed by him.
Bellamy removes his shirt, and his shoes and pants, until he’s left in just his boxers. Clarke squirms on the bed, watching him, eyes wide. He joins her on the bed, crawling on top of her, fingers tracing her delicate skin.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says. “And all mine.”
Clarke nods. “I always wanted it to be you,” she admits. “To be yours.”
“I know, baby,” he coos. “God, I know that now. You should’ve told me.”
“I tried to hint at it,” Clarke pouts. “I tried to dress sexy for you. So you’d want me.”
“I always wanted you,” he promises. He kisses her, teasing her mouth open with his tongue, then breaking away so he can kiss her shoulders, and across her collarbone, down to the impressive swell of her breasts. He licks over the sheer material of her bra, flicking her nipple with his tongue, then sucking it into his mouth, making her moan.
“God, makes me so mad to think you were going to fuck someone else,” he groans, nosing her cleavage. “Just let anybody have you, like a dirty little slut. As if you didn’t know you belong to me.”
Clarke whimpers. Bellamy drags his hand down her stomach, then spreads it over her mound. Her lacy thong is wet right through.
“Tell me you didn’t get this wet thinking of a stranger fucking you,” he growls.
Clarke shakes her head. “I was thinking about you,” she says. “To get myself ready. I was touching myself and thinking about how you’d do it.”
“Good,” he says. “This is mine, okay? I don’t want anyone else touching what’s mine. Not now, and not ever.”
Clarke nods frantically. “Okay,” she says. “Please, Bellamy. Fuck me. Take my virginity.”
He groans, ready to blow his load at the sound of his sweet, innocent virgin saying such dirty things.
“Anything for you, baby,” he says. “Now how about you show me what I paid for, huh? Get you out of this flimsy lingerie.”
“Uh huh,” Clarke agrees. He starts with the bra, and she arches off the bed so he can reach around and unclip it. She bites her lip, flushing as he pulls it from her chest, revealing her full, perky breasts, her rose pink nipples, pointing towards him.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he groans. He puts his mouth all over them, sucking on her nipples, revelling in the soft feel of them in his mouth, all the while keeping his hand firmly on her cunt, reminding them both of what he’s here for.
He tugs her thong down next, revealing her slick, swollen pussy, open for him, just begging to be fucked.
He puts his mouth to her cunt, no tongue yet, just breathing her in, letting himself bask in this moment, one he’s fantasised about for years. He slips his tongue into her folds then, lapping at her juices, then licking over her clit. She bucks against his face, little noises of pleasure escaping her.
He presses his fingers to her opening, pushing inside, testing to see if she’s ready. And god, she’s fucking ready.
She whines pathetically as he leaves the bed to retrieve one of the condoms he brought. Yes, he brought more than one. Call him an optimist.
Clarke is sitting up when he returns, watching him with hooded lids, her jaw slack. And he hasn’t even made her come yet. He yanks his boxers down, watching Clarke for her reaction. He still gets a kick out of showing someone his cock for the first time. Clarke’s response doesn’t disappoint. She squeezes her legs together, whimpering at the sight of him.
“Don’t worry,” he says softly, as he rolls the condom on to his cock. “I’ll be gentle.”
She lies back down as he climbs on top of her again. He brushes his hand across her face. She looks up at him, nervous but trusting, and incredibly turned on.
The head of his cock bumps against her slit, until he finds her opening, and he wedges the tip in. She tenses up at the intrusion, and he pauses.
“You okay, baby?”
“It’s really big,” she whispers, her voice wavering a little.
“I know, sweetheart. But you can take it. Your needy little pussy is just begging for a huge cock. My cock. You’d never be satisfied with someone small.”
Clarke nods, like she knows he’s right. He gives her a gentle kiss, and he feels her relax, her cunt opening for him again. He keeps kissing her as he pushes his cock the rest of the way inside her. She’s quivering under him, breathing heavy, like it’s taking all her effort to concentrate on accepting his cock inside her.
“That’s it, baby,” he says, soothing. “Good girl. You took my whole cock, just like I knew you could. How does it feel?”
“So good,” she pants. “Oh my god, I’m so full. Fuck me, Bellamy. Fuck me like you own me.”
He starts off slow, gentle, rocking his hips into her to get her used to it. He can feel how tight she is, how she clenches around his cock, and he drags against her walls with every thrust.
“Harder,” she begs. “Harder, please. I can take it, I promise.”
He obeys. He thrusts his hips harder, fucking her into the mattress, obsessed with the feel of her. Her hot, wet cunt, her big, bouncing tits. She’s fucking perfect. And she’s his, she’s his.
She comes on his cock, moaning into his mouth, her body arching against him as she shudders through her orgasm.
He digs his fingers into her thigh as he comes a second later, thrusting deep into her, making sure she feels it.
“Fuck,” he groans as he finishes, and then he lets his body go slack on top of hers. He puts his lips to her cheek, kissing her. “Well done,” he says. “You did so well, baby.”
He lifts his head, then slowly gets off her, his cock slipping from her cunt. A tiny bit of blood smears the condom, and his heart lurches.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks.
Clarke shakes her head, but then changes her mind halfway through. “It hurt a little bit,” she admits. “But it was worth it.”
“I’m sorry,” he groans. He gathers her up in his arms, holding her in what he hopes is a comforting embrace. “This isn’t how I imagined it. I was going to treat you so gently. But I just—the thought of someone else being your first. It made me a bit rabid.”
Clarke flushes. “I’m glad it was you.”
“Glad you waited for me, aren’t you?” he teases.
“Shut up,” she groans. “I still think virginity is a construct. But it was kinda hot watching you get all worked up about it.”
“And I’ve ruined you for anyone else, haven’t I?” he asks hopefully.
“I was already ruined before you fucked me. I’ve never thought about anyone else the way I think about you.”
He swallows. “I love you, you know that right?”
She ducks her head. “I do now. I can’t take your money, you know that right?”
“I made the bid, Clarke. I knew what I was doing.”
“Okay, but I would’ve let you take my virginity for free.”
“Are you saying you love me too?” he murmurs, brushing his lips across hers.
“Yeah,” she whispers back. “I love you too.”