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Clarke and Roan make quite a picture, laid out on Bellamy’s bed – Clarke, all flushed skin and curves, sprawled out naked between Roan’s thick legs, one of his large hands cupping her breast, the other inching slowly down her waist. It’s all Bellamy can do to remain at his desk and watch.
“Your wife’s a pretty thing, Blake,” Roan murmurs, placing a kiss where Clarke’s neck meets her shoulders, and she arches her back and sighs softly. The sound goes straight to Bellamy’s dick. “And so sweet. So reactive.” Here, a pinch of her nipple, which makes her squirm. “I can’t believe you waited this long to introduce us.”
Bellamy grits his teeth. “It’s what you get for fucking off to Vermont for all these years.”
Roan grins, all teeth. “Had I known you married up by this much, I would’ve come back earlier.” He turns his head again to Clarke’s ear. “Ready, sweetheart?” When she nods, one of Roan’s long fingers enters her cunt, moves around.
Bellamy watches his knuckle move in and out, listens to Clarke’s breathy moan, crosses his arms. He and Roan had shared everything when they were younger, from pencils to secrets to beer to college flings, and while Bellamy had known that sharing Clarke would eventually come up when Roan had moved back down, he hadn’t expected it to…rankle him this much.
Because as much as he loves Roan, that’s his wife.
Clarke, however, reads him well as usual. “Bell,” she says, voice still breathy. Her left hand comes up to touch her other breast – from here, the gold band on her ring finger glints in the bedroom light, touches her nipple. The sight is hot. “You can touch yourself too, you know.”
“Indeed,” Roan says. His smirk is too knowing as he adds another finger. Clarke whines, leans her head on Roan’s shoulder. “And you’re her husband. I assume you can tell me how best to please her.”
Bellamy exhales, finally loosens his belt and drops his pants and briefs. His cock springs up, rock hard against his stomach, and he gets right to giving himself long, slow pumps, careful to draw it out and not come right away. “Rub her clit with your thumb,” he tells Roan. “Do it hard and fast, first one just to get her going. And your fingers are as long as mine – find the g-spot, she loves it. And–” this last request spills out of him on impulse. “No marks, Roan.” The thought of anyone, even Roan, marking up Clarke makes him see green.
Clarke smiles at him quickly and Roan gets to work, fingers pumping in and out as his thumb rubs fast, dirty circles on her center. Bellamy imagines Roan’s long fingers bumping up against that bundle of nerves up Clarke’s channel, Roan’s thick dick hard against Clarke’s smooth back, and feels lightheaded. The hand on her breasts starts squeezing, joins with Clarke’s other hand as she tenses, gets closer and closer to orgasm as her moans get louder and louder.
Roan pinches her clit and that’s what does it – Clarke nearly shouts as she comes, and Roan helps her through it, his fingers moving slower as she recovers. Bellamy removes his hand from his cock, the sight almost overwhelming. “Beautiful,” Roan murmurs. He would say the same thing in college, when they were sharing a girl, but it feels like a strangely inadequate way to describe Clarke. “I wanna fuck you now,” Roan says harshly, with the same reckless abandon he’d treat things in their youths, and Bellamy groans, the three of them had discussed this, had agreed to it, and yet.
Clarke shoots him a wink before pouting. “Only if Bellamy gets in on it,” she says, and Roan laughs, rummages for a condom.
“Of course, of course. Get up here, Blake.”
Clarke gets on her knees as Bellamy joins them on the bed, presses a quick kiss to Roan’s mouth, and, lays down so that Clarke’s mouth hovers above his dick. She bends down, presses a light kiss to the tip. “Hey, there, handsome,” she says before taking him in her mouth for a few brief seconds, a quick preview of what’s to come. Bellamy’s eyes shoot open at the sensation.
Roan positions himself behind Clarke as she braces herself on her elbows, bends her head so that her hair tumbles onto Bellamy’s leg. He leans over and watches as Roan pushes inside her inch by inch, feels her tense as she adjusts. He knows Roan isn’t as long as he is, but he is thicker, and so he runs his fingers down her back as she shudders and sighs at the unfamiliar intrusion.
“Fuck,” Roan grunts, pushing another inch. “So warm and tight. Is Blake fucking this cunt enough?”
“Oh, fuck you,” Bellamy shoots back.
Clarke chuckles, her breath tickling his dick. “He fucks it plenty.”
“That’s right,” Bellamy says, and then he’s off, the words pouring out of him. “And look at your wonderful cunt, princess, just clinging to Roan’s cock. God, what I wouldn’t give to be him right now, your cunt is the best damn thing. But he’ll treat you right, yeah? He’ll fuck that pussy of your hard and good, you’ll see stars–” Clarke moans a little brokenly and slips her mouth around him again, takes him almost to the hilt, and he groans when she gags a little. “And your perfect mouth, Je-sus, the next best thing. So hot and warm.”
By now Roan’s pushed all the way in, so Clarke releases him to take a deep breath before Roan’s off, slowly moving in and out as Clarke pushes back against him, moaning. The two of them find a rhythm and build up speed, the sound of Roan’s skin on hers almost obscene in the bedroom. Clarke’s mouth returns to Bellamy’s dick, bobbing up and down to the rhythm of Roan’s thrusts; Bellamy sees stars, feels Roan’s every movement reflected in Clarke’s mouth as it licks, sucks, and presses up and down his dick. He glances over, sees his beautiful wife pushed and pulled back and forth between him and his best friend, her mouth and cunt both full with their cocks, her hair a mess and eyes closed, and keeps babbling about how beautiful she is, how skilled, how talented, how lucky he is to be married to her.
It’s not long before he feels his balls tightening, and he tugs on Clarke’s hair so she releases him with an obscenely wet sound just as he comes, ropes of white splattering onto Clarke’s face, the sheets, his stomach. Roan takes this distraction to flip her onto her back and keeps fucking her without missing a beat, snakes his hand to where he and Clarke are joined and his fingers drum a rhythm on her clit. It’s not long before she’s coming as well, her cunt clenching around Roan as she rests her head on Bellamy’s thigh, her small hand scrambling for his.
Still a little out of breath, Bellamy slides their fingers together, squeezes as Roan slows his thrusts, fucking her through it. To Bellamy’s great surprise, Roan pulls out. His dick is still rock hard and red, already leaking when he removes the condom. “Not gonna come inside her?” Bellamy asks, almost affronted on Clarke’s behalf.
Roan smirks at him. “You always want a piece of this, didn’t think it was fair that you didn’t get it,” he says. “Thanks to Clarke, I’m very close, Blake. No jokes about my stamina.”
Bellamy rolls his eyes, affectionate despite himself. “You’re so full of yourself.” He peels himself off from Clarke as Roan lays down. Bellamy licks a long stripe up Roan’s dick before taking him in his mouth, sucking him off hard and playing with his balls the way he knows Roan likes it. It doesn’t last long, maybe a few minutes, before Roan’s load shoots inside Bellamy’s mouth, and he laps it up, licking up and down when he’s finished.
“That was hot,” Clarke says mildly from where she’s watching them, her fingers circling her clit again. “Bellamy’s really good at oral.”
“I haven’t gotten my mouth on you, yet,” Bellamy tells her.
“And she’s treated us so well, it’s almost criminal,” Roan adds.
“The man’s right,” Clarke says. “Lay down, Bell. I wanna ride your face.”
“You married up,” Roan says again.
Bellamy snorts. “Shut up.”
But he does lay down, and Clarke’s thighs surround his face before her cunt descends on him. He lets himself breathe her in, first, the tangy smell he’s grown to associate with her, mixed with Roan’s darker musk, and their combined smells drive him just a little wild, the memory of Roan fucking her cunt viscerally fresh. He squeezes her hips before nosing at her clit and swirling his tongue around her labia, appreciating the sound of her long, drawn-out moan at that. “C’mon, Bellamy.”
He presses a kiss to her lips, watches as Roan swings his legs over his torso to line up behind her, his hands coming up to cup her breasts. Bellamy takes his clit in her mouth and sucks lightly.
“Oh, fuck. Shit, Bellamy.” Clarke keens as Bellamy starts fucking her with his tongue. “Like that, Bell, please." She grinds down on his face as Roan reaches over behind him and wraps his fingers around his cock. Again, they find a rhythm – Bellamy licks into Clarke, his cock glides against Roan’s rough palm, his fingers play with her clit, and the sensations are almost too much, all he can feel is Clarke's cunt and Roan's hand.
“Come on, Clarke,” Roan growls lowly. “You can give us another one, sweetheart.”
At this, she comes over Bellamy’s face with a cry, and he holds her up as she trembles above him, licks into her to help her come down before she collapses onto the bed. Roan palms Bellamy in earnest until he comes a second time. Roan bends down to kiss him again, messy and with teeth, and the two of them lay down beside Clarke, breathing deeply.
“That was lovely,” Roan says, because he’s the kind of person who’d use lovely to describe a threesome with his best friend and his wife. “I should visit more often.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Bellamy says dryly.
Clarke laughs, presses a kiss to Roan’s cheek. “It was great, wasn’t it?”
“If you don’t mind, Roan, I’d rather you go to the guest room, now,” Bellamy says, a bit more firmly than he was meaning to.
“No, I get it.” Roan smiles at them – one of his rare, genuine smiles, however small it is – and gets up, not even bothering to find his underwear before moving towards the door. “Thank you for tonight. Good night and see you in the morning, you two. You make a lovely couple.”
“Well, that was fun,” Clarke says after Roan closes the door. She reaches for him, curls herself into his chest. She still looks a little fucked-out.
“It was fine,” Bellamy says, a little grumpy. He turns to Clarke. “Are you okay?”
She hums, her gaze clearing a little. “Yeah,” she says. “You were so jealous,” she teases.
“I was,” he admits, placing a kiss on her hairline. She blushes sweetly, and he feels a thrill – she’s his wife, and he’s the only one who can make her look like that. “Sorry. I love Roan and all, but – it was a lot. I wouldn't mind him, um, visiting more often, but I'd have to work on it.”
“Bellamy,” Clarke says, moving off his chest to plant a long, deep kiss on his lips. “You weren’t lying – he’s a great lay. But I love you. I married you.” She pulls away, a smirk appearing on her face. “And I think that's a discussion for another day. We’re owed some quality time, huh, husband?”
He laughs, sits up so she can crawl into his lap. She grinds her cunt up by his cock, and he groans. “Well, when you put it like that.”