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“Clarke?” She blinks her eyes slowly, struggling to adjust to the bright light coming from the bathroom. By her estimate, it’s not even morning yet.
“Shh,” another voice hisses from somewhere behind her. Clarke lets her eyes fall shut again. They’re still burning from crying earlier, making it too much work to open them and see which of Roan’s roommates stumbled upon her on the couch. “Come here.” Footsteps shuffle away from her.
“Is she okay?” There’s no whisper in Bellamy’s voice, just sheer concern that makes her stomach flutter.
“She just needs a place to stay tonight,” Roan says. After a beat, he adds, “She couldn’t afford to stay in the dorm.” No more details were necessary. Bellamy knew all about Clarke’s mother refusing to pay for school after she decided to study art instead of medicine. It was all she and Octavia talked about over Labor Day weekend when the Blake’s were nice enough to let her stay with them instead of facing her mom.
“And tomorrow?” Bellamy asks.
“She’ll figure something out.” She purses her lips together but doesn’t make a sound. Frankly, she had thought showing up here in this tight tank and shorts would earn her a few nights to crash here. Roan has no qualms about grinding up against her at parties and trying to take her home. It seemed reasonable to assume he’d let her stay as long as she wanted as long as she fucked him. But he wanted to be all noble and not take advantage of her while she was upset, the jerk. Now she has to sleep on a fucking couch instead of his nice bed.
A door clicks shut, and Bellamy sighs.
“Sorry,” Clarke murmurs, and she means it. He’s already bailed her out of trouble enough this year. That’s why she asked Roan instead of him. That, and she’s pretty sure Bellamy wouldn’t be down to fuck her in exchange for letting her stay.
“You cannot be comfortable on that couch,” Bellamy says. She opens her eyes to see him peering down at her, still dressed from whatever date party he just got home from.
“Nope,” she mutters.
“Come on,” he slurs. It’s hard not to laugh at his tipsiness. He never gets drunk when her and Octavia come over for a party, too worried and protective to let his guard down.
Bellamy gestures to the hallway, and Clarke knows it’s probably not a good idea to follow. He’s drunk, and she’s crushing a little too hard on him to responsibly share a bed with him. But a bed is better than this godforsaken couch, and let’s be real, she was never going to have the willpower to say no to sharing a bed with Bellamy Blake.
So, she goes into his room and curls right up on his bed.
He’s not graceful as he gets ready for bed. Bellamy curses at least twice while trying to kick off his shoes. His shirt smacks the desk lamp as he throws it off. All the while he doesn’t seem to notice Clarke watching him in the dark.
It’s fine. He’s drunk. He won’t remember her eyeing his abs or biting her lip as he crawled into the bed in only his briefs.
“Your mom sucks,” Bellamy huffs while yanking the covers over them.
“Understatement,” she snorts.
“You should stay here until you figure things out,” he mumbles.
“Bell.”
He turns onto his side, eyes closed, and pulls her into him. “Stay.” The word vibrates through his chest, thundering loud in the quiet of his room. Clarke turns away from him, grinning like an idiot as he wraps an arm around her.
“Are you sure?”
Bellamy hums right above her ear and pulls her in tighter. Who would have thought Bellamy Blake was a cuddler?
“Stay, baby.”
All exhaustion floods out of Clarke and her eyes go wide. She turns her head slightly, not enough to disturb him, and sees that he’s barely keeping his eyes open. God, he must be drunker than she thought if he’s calling her that.
“Surprised Roan didn’t try to fuck you,” he mumbles, every other word slurring together. “He wants to. Fuck, Murphy does too.”
Really drunk. Bellamy must be really fucking drunk. She should have realized it earlier when he let her sleep in the bed with him instead of just taking the couch himself.
“Did not know that,” Clarke whispers, and it comes out awkward and stilted. His hand settles on her hip, gripping harder than he had earlier, and pulls her closer against him. That’s when she feels his cock pressing against her.
“All my roommates want to fuck you,” he whispers as hips jerk into her sleepily.
“Bell.” There’s a warning in her voice, unsteady but present. She’s not even doing anything, and it feels like taking advantage of him.
“Mmm?”
And yet… she could ask him just about anything right now, and he’d tell her exactly what he thinks. Clarke shouldn’t. But the words slip out anyway.
“Do you want to?”
His movements have grown steadier, his erection pressing into her shorts in slow, rhythmic repetition.
“Yeah.” The hairs on her arms stand on end as he growls that confession into her ear. “Wanna take you just like this, give it to you better than that Flynn guy ever did.” She’s too shocked to correct him about Finn. “Wanna fuck those tits.”
She tries to turn around to face him, but he’s holding her too tight for her to do anything but lie there and listen to every filthy thing dripping out of his mouth.
“Wanna feel your mouth around my cock.” Clarke squirms against him, trying to make him move faster. “I think about it all the time. Having you on your knees in front of the couch. Sucking me off after I get done with classes for the day.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Your roommates wouldn’t mind?”
“They can have their turn after you take care of me.”
Clarke shivers.
“Baby,” he hums, more sleepy than hungry now.
She can’t get the image out of her mind. Bellamy with a fistful of her hair, shoving her forward to suck him harder. Roan sitting beside him, sipping a beer, watching her swallow every drop of come and telling her how good she is. Murphy stroking himself as he watches. Clarke still having Bellamy’s come drip down her chin as she licks at the head of Roan’s cock.
His movements slow, and she can feel him slowly drift behind her. Bellamy lets out a small snore, but she’s wide awake.
And she has a solution to her current living situation.
Bellamy’s gone when she wakes up at the crack of eleven. He’s got a job as a computer lab monitor in the mornings before class, a job he usually sleeps at since it basically just involves making sure no one steals a keyboard.
It’s sort of a blessing that he’s not there when she first wakes up. He’ll probably feel awkward after his drunken confessions the night before. Or maybe not even remember.
Clarke helps herself to some of Roan’s fancy coffee. Though he gives her shit for it, she usually goes for his food and drinks whenever she and Octavia are over here. Murphy and Bellamy have to work to pay for school, and Roan has more money than he knows what to do with. Besides, he wants to sleep with her, so he’d happily let her have some coffee if he were around.
So would Murphy, if Bellamy was telling the truth.
As soon as he pops up in her thoughts, he appears in the kitchen doorway.
“Did you fuck Roan or Bellamy?” he chuckles.
When he opens the refrigerator, Clarke says, “Both.” If she hadn’t been watching him closely, she might have missed the way his hand clenches around the handle before he forces it to relax. “Neither,” she corrects. She jumps up to sit on the counter, swinging her legs as she takes the coffee back in her hands. “Got kicked out of the dorm, and Roan offered the couch. Then, Bellamy came home and offered me his bed.”
Murphy’s hair is still messy from sleep. No doubt that he slept through his morning class like Clarke did. And he’s just tired enough that his gaze slips to her bare legs before he corrects it and looks at her.
So, Bellamy wasn’t lying.
“You don’t mind me crashing here for a few days, do you? I’m sure I could find somewhere—”
Murphy swats his hand in the air to shut her down. “Stay.” He pulls open the door to his section of the kitchen cabinets, then pulls back to look at Clarke’s mug. His lips turn upward. He shuts his cabinet door and goes for Roan’s, pulling out a packet of the good stuff like she did. “If anyone asks, you needed two cups this morning.”
He turns to make his coffee, and Clarke slides off the counter. He doesn’t see her coming when she leans up to whisper in his ear.
“I can keep a secret.”
He nearly drops his mug as she leaves the kitchen.
Once her class is done for the day, she rushes back to the guys’ apartment. Roan doesn’t so much as look up from his videogame as she drags her stuff into Bellamy’s room. Murphy is still on campus. And Bellamy is nowhere to be seen. She takes a nice, long shower, savoring the hot water that was a rarity at her dorm. Clarke walks back out to the kitchen in nothing but a towel, and this time Roan pauses the damn game and stumbles over himself to help her reach the protein bars on the top shelf.
She takes her time putting on her makeup and drying her hair, making herself feel pretty for the first time in weeks. Her eyelashes look dark and long, and she gets wet thinking about how Bellamy might react to her batting her eyelashes at him. She forgoes her usual pink lip gloss, opting for a pink lip stain that’ll keep her lips perfectly pink as she sucks his cock.
In her fantasy, she wears a cute little dress, so short that it covers nothing when she sits down. But it feels too staged, too obvious. And her eye catches on the white V-neck Bellamy discarded last night. The smell of him makes her cunt clench around nothing, so she throws it on without a bra, letting it fall down to her bare mid-thigh.
Roan’s off playing rugby and Murphy’s still on campus when she takes her place on the couch and pretends to read for Art History. She doesn’t look up as the front door swings open.
“Hey, how does Chinese sound for dinner?” he calls out.
“Perfect,” she shouts back. His backpack thuds to the ground. Clarke has to fight not to smile as she looks up at him. Bellamy is looking everywhere but at her, his face a bit pink. There is no way he’s not thinking about the very filthy things he mentioned last night. Especially involving this couch. “You okay?”
The question makes him look at her right as she deposits her book to the side, exposing her bare legs. “Yeah, just tired,” he chokes out. His eyes meet hers, and she can tell it’s taking work for him to keep her gaze instead of looking where he really wants to. There’s a question in his dark eyes, like he isn’t quite sure if he’s reading into things or if this is actually happening.
Clarke sighs sympathetically. “Long day?”
His brows are still furrowed as he sits down beside her, at a careful distance. She slides up to him and puts her head on his shoulder. “Yeah,” he sighs. “Got that midterm coming up.”
“It’s a Friday. You just need to relax.” Clarke squeezes his knee for emphasis. Bellamy inhales sharply. “Can I help?”
Right as he opens his mouth to say that he’s fine, Clarke’s fingers find their way to the top button of his jeans. Bellamy swallows whatever he was about to say and simply moves his hands out of her way. The only sounds in the apartment in the new minute are their breathing and the sound of his zipper sliding down.
Clarke slides off the couch and kneels on the ground between his legs. He tugs his pants down. She gropes at his erection over his briefs. Her lack of experience probably shows, since Finn really just wanted to put his dick in her and that was it. But Bellamy watches her as if every touch is a godsend.
“Clarke,” he whispers, finally breaking the delicious silence. She bats her lashes up at him. The worry she thought she might see is nowhere to be found. All she sees is want. “You liked what I said to you last night, didn’t you, baby?”
“Mhmm.”
“And here I thought you were a good girl.”
Clarke pouts. “I am.”
Bellamy hums to himself as he pulls his cock out from his briefs. Somehow, it looks even larger than it felt last night. Hard and thick, the kind of cock that Clarke convinced herself only existed in porn to make herself feel better about Finn’s dick.
“You sure about that?” Clarke bites down on her lips, eyes unwavering as she stares at his length. “Show me. Give my cock some sweet little kisses to show me that you’re my good girl.”
She stares a beat longer before she lets herself touch him. His cock is warmer than she expected, hot compared to the cool of the apartment. Clarke pushes up on her knees a bit and brings her lips closer. She meets his hungry gaze, all wide-eyed and sweet like a good girl. Slowly, she lets her pink lips graze the head of his cock in a chaste little kiss.
“Baby.”
Clarke doesn’t really know what she’s doing. Finn lasted all of two minutes when she sucked his cock, probably just from relief that someone would touch it. So with Bellamy, she imitates smut she used to read when her roommate was asleep and the gifs she saw on Tumblr before they cracked down on that sort of thing.
But it doesn’t matter, not with how Bellamy stares hungrily at her. Clarke barely gets her mouth around his cock when his large hands rake through her hair, tugging a little as he pushes her farther down.
A shocked noise escapes her throat, and Bellamy murmurs, “Good, good.” He releases her, and Clarke pulls off him and inhales loudly. “Too big for you, baby girl?”
Brows furrowed, she shakes her head and tries again. Bellamy’s hand settles on the back of her head, gently nudging her to take more and more of his cock. The rhythm gets easier once she gets used to the size and relaxes her jaw more.
On the couch, Bellamy has relaxed. He’s slouched with his head thrown back and eyes shut, and it’s beautiful to see him like this. And it’s because of her. He’s let his guard down because she’s making him feel so good.
“Fuck, Clarke.” She beams under his praise, her cunt clenching with each broken syllable.
The apartment is silent save for Bellamy’s groans and Clarke’s lips on his cock, so when there’s fumbling in the keyhole, it rings loud in her ears. Bellamy stiffens up, but Clarke keeps going. Their eyes meet, and the brief panic in his gaze melts into understanding the longer he looks at her taking his cock without a care in the world.
She catches the start of a smile before he grabs a fistful of her hair and thrusts his cock hard. Clarke gags a little. Tears run out the corners of her eyes, no doubt smearing the makeup she put on so carefully.
“Oh, uh—”
Roan. Roan is the first one home.
“How was practice?” Bellamy asks, leaning back in the couch all casual and not taking his eyes off Clarke. When he loosens his grip on her hair, she looks up to see Roan staring at the two of them. And damn her, she smiles at him… well, as much as anyone can smile with a cock between their lips.
“Good.” It sounds like a question. Then, he takes a cautious step toward them, eyes darting between her and Bellamy.
“Grab me a beer?” Bell asks. His eyes don’t leave Clarke. “Can you take a little more, baby?”
“Mhmm,” she whimpers around his cock, pushing herself just a little more.
“Good girl.”
Roan races back into the room in record time, two beers in hand. He’s still sweaty from practice, wearing one of those oversized tanks that show off every perfectly maintained muscle. But for once, that’s not where Clarke’s eyes linger. And he doesn’t hide his growing erection.
Bellamy pats the couch beside him, and Roan takes a big swig from his bottle before taking the seat.
“She looks so good with a cock in her mouth,” Bellamy says before taking a sip. “Don’t you think so?”
Roan adjusts himself, eyes narrowed on Clarke like a predator circling its prey. “Can’t say I mind the view. Might I ask what brought this on?”
Clarke releases Bellamy with an obscene pop and takes in a ragged breath. “Just wanted to thank him for letting me stay,” she says. Roan’s jaw clicks.
“Sweet thing,” Bellamy coos, and her stomach somersaults.
“Do I get a thank you too?” Roan growls, low and hungry. Arousal floods her.
She takes Bellamy’s tip into her mouth and hums, “Mhmm.”
Roan and Bellamy share a look. Roan relaxes into the couch, and Bellamy starts running his fingers through Clarke’s hair, guiding her back down his cock. She closes her eyes and lets him take over, using her mouth just how he needs.
“What?”
It’s a distant hiss, and it takes her a minute to register that it’s coming from a phone. Clarke blinks her eyes open to see Roan on his iPhone.
“You in class?” Roan asks.
“Yeah. What do you need?” Annoyed, straight to the point. Murphy. Of course, Roan is FaceTiming him in.
“Hope no one is sitting near you,” Roan drawls before switching from the front camera. Clarke closes her eyes and goes back to letting Bellamy fuck her mouth.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
There’s shuffling and cursing on Murphy’s end and muffled laughter on theirs.
“Could’ve warned him,” Bellamy snickers.
“Could’ve warned me too, but I got to be surprised by this little show,” Roan quips back.
“Fucking hell, Roan,” Murphy growls over FaceTime. Roan just grins, still holding up the phone to give Murphy quite the view, Clarke imagines. “I was in class!”
Clarke lets Bellamy’s cock slip from between her lips. He groans. She runs her tongue from his balls to the very tip.
“Should I hang up then?” Roan snorts. Whatever Murphy says next is too quiet for her to hear, but she gets the general idea when Roan flips his phone around so Clarke can see Murphy speed walking across campus to get to his car as fast as possible, only looking away from the screen to keep from tripping. Roan’s beer is set on the floor, and his other hand rests on his leg, his thumb stroking the outline of his cock. Both of them are going to watch every second.
Clarke blinks up at Bellamy, all innocent. “Bell?”
His hand gathers her hair in his fist. “What you need, baby?” She kisses the head of his cock.
“Need you to fuck my mouth.”
“Fuck,” Murphy growls over FaceTime.
She barely registers the change in Bellamy’s eyes before he’s pushing up to his feet, thrusting his cock roughly into her mouth. “Relax your jaw, sweet baby,” he murmurs, voice so gentle compared to how tightly he grips her hair or jerks into her mouth.
Clarke breathes in through her nose, closing her eyes as he pulls back and pushes back in. She gags. Roan swears.
“Look at me,” Bellamy says. Tears slip down her cheeks as she looks up. “Good. That’s so good, baby girl.” Her lip wobbles as he presses in again, trembling from the weight of his praise. “Fuck, I could get used to this. Coming home to you all ready to take care of my cock. Isn’t this gorgeous?”
“Beautiful,” Roan says, now standing beside them for a better view. He leans down and kisses Clarke’s forehead. “You gonna make him come, sweetheart?” Clarke tries to nod, but her mouth is too stuffed to let her move. “Yeah, then you’re gonna make me come, aren’t you? That’s what you want, isn’t it? Want to take care of all of us.” Over her thin shirt, Roan grabs ahold of one of her tits and gives it a slow squeeze.
“Fuck,” Murphy says, and his car door slams shut to punctuate this statement. “I can make it home in two minutes.”
Bellamy slips his cock from her lips to grab her chin and make her look up at him. “Is that what you want, Clarke?” he asks. She nods weakly. “Just tonight?” She shakes her head.
“Good girl,” Murphy says. Roan hums his agreement.
“We’ll take care of you,” Bellamy whispers. “Stay with us, and we’ll be so sweet to you, baby girl.” She nods frantically, leaning forward to take his cock back into her mouth. He meets her halfway. Roan holds the back of her head, gently guiding her up and down his cock, his phone, and by extension, Murphy, abandoned on the couch. Her hand absently feels around Roan’s shorts until she has a tentative grip on his erection.
“Oh, that’s good,” Roan murmurs. Clarke lets her eyes fall shut, feeling Bellamy’s thick cock slide over her tongue. Their voices carry her through it like an ocean current.
“Yes.”
“Baby.”
“You can take it.”
“Oh God.”
“Fuck.”
A door slam.
“Sweet Jesus.”
Another hand, Murphy’s, finds her chin and helps guide her as Bellamy slams his cock into her mouth. She opens her eyes just enough to see him beside her. Her other hand fumbles for his cock, wanting to make him feel good too. Just as her hands find their target, Bellamy comes right into her mouth. Roan stops her from pulling off.
“Swallow, Clarke,” Murphy whispers. Roan holds her there until she does. “Good girl.” Clarke gasps for breath, and it burns so good.
“Good… good girl,” Bellamy echoes, and Clarke beams up at him. The other boys let go, and Bellamy leans down to kiss her all filthy. Their first kiss, and his cum still coats her mouth.
“You gonna share, Blake?” Roan shorts.
“Mhmm,” Bellamy hums into her mouth. Another mouth finds her neck, and Clarke leans back into the warm chest. A hand travels up to her chest, settling gently over her breast. She pulls back from Bellamy and turns her head to see Murphy behind her. Feeling bold, she pulls him off her neck and kisses him on the mouth, letting him taste Bellamy too. His mouth feels different than Bellamy’s, smaller and tasting like the Starbursts he eats between classes.
Another hand settles on her waist under the shirt. She keeps kissing Murphy as Roan’s hand slides up. It’s colder than Murphy’s hand, probably from the beer. The chill goes all the way up her spine, making her nipples hard.
The three of them settle on the floor beside the couch, too hungry to get up. She’s lying against Murphy, shirt pulled up above her breasts so he and Roan can touch and squeeze. But Roan’s been watching a little too long, gotten impatient. His other hand dips between her legs, stroking the damp fabric.
“Fucking soaked,” Roan growls. “Baby girl needs a cock, I think.”
“Give it to her, then.” Clarke pulls her lips from Murphy to look up. Bellamy’s sitting on the couch, undressed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Eyes raking over the scene in front of him, still looking ravenous. “You want some cock, princess?” Bellamy asks her.
Clarke’s eyes meet Roan’s. Murphy’s lips stay on her neck and his hands on her breasts. Roan pulls down his pants.
“Get a condom,” Bellamy orders him. Roan grumbles, but he does as he’s told. While he’s gone, Bellamy pulls himself onto the ground beside Clarke, his hands landing on her thighs. Her eyes land on his spent cock, watching how it twitches as he touches her.
“I need to be inside you,” Murphy whispers right into her ear. Her breath hitches. Bellamy pulls off her panties and presses a finger inside. Clarke whimpers. Murphy’s tongue slides down her ear. Roan comes back into the room, completely undressed and fiddling with a condom wrapper.
“I’m on the pill,” Clarke tells Bellamy.
“He’s wearing a condom,” Bellamy says. There’s a protective edge to his voice, and she knows he’s trying to keep her safe and healthy. Worried about who all Roan has slept with. It makes her chest all warm, makes her want to take him back into his room and suck him off again.
But then Roan is on top of her, bare muscled chest pressed into her breasts, flattening her against Murphy, whose tongue is doing sinful things to her throat.
“She’s tight,” Bellamy tells him, and a low growl slips off Roan’s lips as his head presses into the folds. Clarke’s hand reaches out, landing in Roan’s long hair and pulling hard as he pushes inside.
“That’s it,” Murphy whispers.
“Fuck,” Roan grunts.
“How’s that pussy feel?” Bellamy asks.
“So good.” Roan’s mouth takes hers, and her whimpers and his grunts are swallowed together. He’s big. Much bigger than Finn. And for a girl who spent all day primping for this moment, she really should have planned out a time to remind the three of them that Finn’s dick is all she’s ever had. But it’s too much to say right now, and she couldn’t speak even if she wanted to. Her entire mind blurs as the feel of hands and mouths on her, at the beautiful stretch.
She feels like a slut. She feels adored. She feels dirty. She feels precious.
It’s not just Bellamy’s cock in her mouth anymore. It’s Murphy’s erection pressing into her ass, his mouth on her ear, filthy words being pressed into her skin. It’s Roan stretching her out, grunting and feral after months of trying to get her in bed. It’s Bellamy watching, pushing her hair out of her face and telling her how good she is. It’s so much.
“Good girl,” Bellamy coos. His hand holds one of her thighs in place for Roan, and he leans over to kiss her.
“Our good little whore,” Murphy whispers against her throat. Clarke nods into Bellamy’s mouth. That’s exactly what she is. Their good little whore. Their personal slut to use however they want. It should be scary or humiliating, but it’s not. She wants them. And Bellamy will take care of her, make sure everyone treats her all sweet and good.
“My little whore,” Bellamy says so quietly into her mouth that only Clarke hears it. Their eyes meet, and there’s something so primal and possessive about how he looks at her.
“Fuck,” Roan hisses, hips pumping into her raggedly. His head dips, nearly hitting Bellamy in the process, and Roan nudges Murphy off her neck so he can bury his face into her skin with a loud growl. “Oh, baby. God. Fuck.”
A tearing sound comes from behind her.
“Baby,” Roan mumbles. “Fuck, I want this pussy every day.”
A hand slides between their bodies, and she whimpers when a finger grazes her clit.
“You won’t get it if you don’t make her feel good,” Bellamy warns. Roan’s cock slides out of her, and Bellamy’s finger starts to circle her clit.
“Fuck, I know. It was just so tight. I couldn’t last, shit.”
Murphy moves from behind her, up on his knees so he can roll a condom on. Bellamy pulls her into his chest, nudging her knees apart before returning pressure to her clit. Weakly, she tilts her head up to him and kisses him.
When Roan heads to the bathroom to pull off the condom, Murphy gets between her legs. His cock is hard in his hand, his eyes watching Bellamy’s fingers on her cunt like he’s hungry. Bellamy’s fingers move faster. Clarke bites down on her lip as Murphy’s cock twitches. All the filthy things Murphy whispered while Roan was fucking her come back to Clarke all at once, and it’s so much. She bucks against Bellamy’s hand and digs her nails into his forearm. Bellamy kisses her hard, swallowing her whines. When his fingers leave her, Murphy presses inside. Her vision goes white.
She floats in and out, barely catching the praise coming from each of them. Calling her a good girl, a good slut, their baby girl, so pretty, so beautiful. A cock stretches her out so good. Someone runs fingers through her hair. There’s a mouth on her ear, another on her lips. And it’s probably fucked up, but it feels so good to be so wanted, so precious, so small in their arms. She’s safe here. They’re going to take care of her. She has a home here. She has the three of them.
Clarke is crying, it’s so good. One second, she’s being fucked. The next, she’s being carried into the bathroom, Bellamy’s bathroom. He helps her into the shower, and the water is already hot. Her legs are limp, but he’s holding her up against him.
“You really want this?” Bellamy whispers under the shower head. He’s rubbing her all over with his body wash, and she flushes to realize she’ll get to smell like him now. “It could just be for tonight.”
“I want it,” she says. He’s gentle with her breasts, circling his thumbs around her nipples as he lathers her with soap.
“It’s going to be hard to share you,” he growls. It’s so deep that she can feel it travel through his chest. Gently, he slides his hand up her neck and tilts her head back. Water drenches her hair, and she watches him. His eyes focus on her hair, focus on getting it soaked. Then, he pulls out his shampoo. Doesn’t offer it to her. Just starts applying it to her hair himself, and she closes her eyes. “I want you sleeping in my bed every night.”
“Okay.”
“Condoms when you’re fucking them.”
“I’m on the pill,” Clarke sighs.
“Don’t care. Only I get to come inside you.” Clarke sucks in a breath. “You like that, huh?” His fingers knead into her scalp, spreading the shampoo. “Ever had someone come inside you?”
She shakes her head.
A grunt is all she’s given in return. When he turns her, she can feel his erection press into her.
“Let me finish cleaning you up, and I’ll come deep inside you, sweet girl,” he whispers right into her ear. “You want that?”
“Uh huh.”
He tilts her head again, whispering, “Good girl,” as he rinses her hair.