He didn't show up that night. She left her apartment exactly how she told him she would. Shoes in the hall, panties on the kitchen floor, glass of water drained by the sink, and her dress on the floor by her bedroom door. She left the bustier on for a while, knowing he'd like to see it when he came in. But then it was eight o'clock and she knew he wasn't coming.
She drew a bath, tossing the bustier across the floor and threw her kimono on before getting her pajamas. She grabbed a bath bomb from the basket next to the tub and tossed it in, the room beginning to smell like roses almost instantly. She loved it and so did Bellamy by how he buried his face in her neck and inhaled deeply with a groan. He hasn't touched her in a month and she was aching for him, it was as if he'd ruined her for anyone else.
She pulled her hair up into a bun before stepping into the tub, sinking down under the water to her shoulders, her head falling back against the edge. Closing her eyes she imagined the one time he had joined her, a lilac bath bomb that time, not that he minded, he just prefers the rose. She bought only rose since she figured that out though once he's done with her she won't be able to use them, the smell would remind her of him and it'd crush her.
That night he'd caught her relaxing in the bath, the first time she saw his tender side, the only time. He slipped in behind her, pulling her close and kissed her neck. After the tender kisses on her neck and soft touches on her stomach and thighs he grasped her throat, forcing her to look back at him. "You're gorgeous, baby, don't let anyone tell you different."
"Yes, sir."
"You can use my name, Princess. Say it, I want to hear you say it," he kissed the corner of her mouth gingerly before nibbling her earlobe waiting for the three syllables to pass through her lips.
"Bellamy," it felt personal, like it was made only for her to say and she liked it and only wanted to call him that but he's her boss and he's professional there. There he is "Sir."
"Good girl. You like calling me Bellamy?"
She nodded and his fingers traced up the water and cupped her drying breast, with him behind her they stuck up out of the water, not that she was complaining, she just loved being with him in any capacity.
The water from his hands made her skin slippery as he plucked and plied her erect nipples so he didn't get a grip on them for more than a moment but the friction and the pressure he did manage felt amazing.
It was in that moment, watching him watch himself playing with her nipples, his lips agape that Clarke realized that they've never kissed. "Bellamy," she said again, testing it out this time. She had permission to use it but she didn't want to push him too far.
"Yes, Princess?" His eyes never leaving her breasts.
Clarke grimaced for a moment, thinking that the first time he called her that was a slip but then he did it again and she thought that maybe he's allowing new things tonight, maybe he wants more than he was letting on before. "We've never kissed."
His eyes snapped to hers and she gasped at the intensity, the depth in his eyes. She didn't think he'd react so strongly. "You're right."
"May I ask why?"
"Clarke you're allowed to ask whatever you want but if I don't answer, don't push the matter. And we have maybe not what you're used to but we have."
"Going down on me isn't kissing me, Bellamy, that's cunnilingus. It has its own name." He leaned in and Clarke pulled away. "Don't do it because I asked you to. I want you to want to kiss me. I'm not forcing you into it."
"No one can force me to do anything, Princess. I thought you liked this."
"I do."
"I'm not doing this for me, you know, this is for us, our mutual pleasure with each other. Do you not like something? Princess, you need to tell me if you don't like something," his eyes were full of concern and Clarke wanted to touch him. He didn't like that.
"I will," she promised.
"Good, I want you to enjoy this as much as I do. You need to tell me if you don't."
He fucked her slow that night, like she was precious and the only one that could convince him of forever. And maybe she could have if he stayed until the morning.
It hurt, falling asleep in his arms and waking up alone. She ignored it, she didn't want to push him but she wanted more.
Clarke silenced a sob she didn't know was going to burst through her. This bath wasn't relaxing anymore.
She yanked the plug and while the water drained she wrapped herself in a towel, praying for the rest of her night would end swiftly as she grabbed the manuscript Harper loaned her two days ago, wanting to finish it as she climbed into bed.
Clarke got to work the next morning and Bellamy's office door was closed and frosted. Usually meant that he was working out while on a conference call or talking an author into something they don't want to do because that's who he is, it's how he operates and sometimes Clarke wondered if it's what he does to her with that smirk and those eyes and delicious arms. His freckles, how could she forget his freckles? She itched to sketch them, to perfect his freckles on a page for all of eternity to look at in amazement.
No, you're mad at him, there is no sketching him in attempt to showcase perfection. No, she told herself and she managed to listen for once when it came to Bellamy Blake.
She turned her computer on and while waiting she answered the incoming call. "Blake Publishing, Editorial. How may I direct your call?"
"Clarke, it's O," the woman on the other end and Clarke looked at the phone to see if Mr. Blake was on a call like she suspected but his line was black. Clarke blinked at it with confusion but told Octavia Blake she'd forward her to Mr. Blake. "No, I—I want to talk to you."
"Me?" Clarke grimaced, she and O were roommates in college and O got her the job when Clarke told her she was moving to town and needed a job. She wasn't looking for a handout, which this pretty much was, just if some places that were hiring. Octavia went above and beyond as always.
"Yes, you. The woman who has my brother wrapped around her finger."
"What?"
"You're his secretary, the woman my brother is sleeping with."
"No. I am not sleeping with my boss," Clarke lied. She found it easier to lie over the phone than in person, something to do with a face she makes.
"Huh, I'm usually right about this. If it isn't you, who is he sleeping with?"
"Octavia, you realize we're friends, right? You got me this job, but I'm Bellamy's secretary and I know what he does from nine to five-thirty Monday through Friday. After five-thirty, whatever he does is his business," Clarke told her though it's not completely true. It was about last night, but not every night.
"Okay, I'm sorry. You're right, we are friends and I was actually calling to see if you wanted to go out with me this weekend, Raven is in town and—"
Clarke smiled, "You know I'm in."
"Awesome! You can tell us all about this new guy you've been seeing. Don't deny it, I know how you are when you're in a relationship."
"I'm not, just swamped with work."
"I know you, Clarke and you've been working there for a year, what happened to temporary while you work on your art?"
"I'm still trying to get into a gallery. It's not easy, O."
A red light lit up the board for the line connecting her phone to Bellamy's and its incessant blinking distracted her from Octavia's statement.
"What? Sorry, I just got an email I had to respond to," Clarke told her while ignoring his call.
"You're so good, why don't you try Etsy? People there love one of a kind shit there."
"It's—"
"Griffin, answer the phone when I call you. Now get in here!" Bellamy yelled across the floor.
"O, I got to go."
"Tell him I was trying to schedule a lunch with him. I don't see him enough."
"Will do."
"Griffin," he growled over my shoulder and I jumped, hanging up the phone.
"Sir, your sister was on the line trying to secure a lunch with you because you don't see her enough. I would have answered otherwise," Clarke said swiftly.
"Get in my office, Griffin."
Clarke rolled her eyes, her back to him so he couldn't see as she stood and walked ahead of him to his office. Bellamy closed the door behind him and suddenly he was crowding her. His face buried in her neck sucking on her pulse point knowing it'd soften her up to him but not today. Today she was upset with him, today she wanted him to work for it. Today she wanted him to know he let her down last night.
"Baby, come on. I—"
"You had me waiting for hours. 'Later' always meant 'tonight' so when you don't show up without a word, I get annoyed. The longer I go without a call explaining why you aren't there, I get angry and you really don't want me angry, Bellamy."
"Baby. Princess, please, I have a reason, it's..."
"What is that?" Clarke grimaced. "'Princess'?"
"You're—" Bellamy grimaced, he doesn't like being questioned or challenged but damn him if he doesn't see how much she's in this with him. How much she wants this to be real. "You're my princess."
"Are you kidding me? Bellamy, you don't treat me like a princess, you don't treat me like a girlfriend or even someone you're dating, you treat me like a toy. Someone you can have fun with and walk away like they don't have feelings and come back whenever you want and abuse them again. I can't keep doing this."
The words were out of her mouth before she knew what she was even saying but once they were said, she knew they were true, she couldn't continue letting him walk all over her like he has, she's done.
"Baby," he pulled her in close, cupping her cheek. "I asked you to tell me if you needed something to change. I don't want to see you like this, baby."
"I'm not your baby. How many other girls are there, Bellamy? I'm not the only one, and that's not even the worst part."
"Clarke," he sighed. "I don't do this, not at work. I find women elsewhere, but the moment I met you, it's only been you. I tried keeping a distance, I tried staying away, but you're—you're intoxicating," he said, blaming her for his obsession. "What do you smell like? I love that smell, baby, it drives me insane," his words were gravelly and breathy and Clarke grimaced, he thinks she's going back. He thinks he can bring her back to him and she'll continue doing whatever this is with him when it's slowly killing her, she's fallen so hard for him just by waiting for him to give her the time of day. She can't wait for him anymore, she can't wait for the galleries to tell her her art is worthy enough to be in their space, she know it is and it's about time she does something about it.
She scoffed at his words, pulling out of his grasp. He's trying to seduce her with sweet nothings and telling her she smells good. She knows she smells good, she wouldn't use the bath bombs if they didn't make her smell like a fucking rose for days at a time. "I owe you one more, but then I am done, Bellamy."
"Stop and think about this, Clarke."
"That's just it, Bellamy, if you didn't bail on me last night, I wouldn't have so much time to think about it. God, I thought... I know you need the control, I understand that, I can give you that, but if you're so controlling when it comes to sex, why aren't you controlling when it comes to how I eat or who I talk to."
"That's ridiculous, I'm not your master, I'm not a dom," he blinked.
"You act like one! You punish me, you only allow me to call you 'Sir' unless we're here and then it's Mr. Blake. You punish me in the bedroom when I'm not adequate at my job which shouldn't happen, there's a line. I called you 'baby' yesterday, it's what people who are intimate do, and they have pet names for each other. But Bellamy, punishing me for using some other name you didn't choose, shouldn't be okay."
"There is a line and you are crossing it, stop calling me Bellamy or you're getting two spanks every time you say it."
"Yeah, and I'll like it because you're dealing them out," she cried. "I wouldn't be doing any of this if it weren't because it pleased you."
Bellamy took a step back and looked at her as though it were the first time. "You've never done this before?"
"No."
"Shit, baby, why didn't you tell me? You were so willing and you wanted it."
"No, I wanted you. All these months, after everything, the one-time where I felt normal and cared for was when you joined me in the tub and you allowed me to call you Bell—by your first name. You didn't spank or punish me, you didn't fuck me senseless. You were gentle and treated me like I mattered to you and I wasn't just another notch on your bedpost. I thought maybe you had a change of heart; that you cared about me. Then I woke up and you were gone, you're always gone, you never stay and I should have known then. I should have ended it then instead of sticking around in hopes that maybe you did care more than you let on."
"You want that night again? I can give you that night, baby," he said taking her hand in his and she looked at their hands together, trying to convince herself that it doesn't look right. That she shouldn't like the feel of his large hand encompassing hers.
"Don't give me anything," Clarke swallowed, she needs to look him in the eyes when she tells him it's the last time. She needs to be dead serious. She collected herself and a moment later she looked up at him. "I get three spanks and you get to fuck me one last time. Then we're done."
He looked pained, he looked as though he was done with everything but this wasn't the end of the world, just the end of their physical relationship. "Now or later?"
"Now and I want my key back, I shouldn't have given it to you in the first place."
"Fine. Bend over the desk," his words were cold, distant.
Clarke hated that he insisted on her wearing a skirt when she started working here but she gets it, it makes it easier to access her ass when they only have a few minutes and he needed a quick release before a meeting or a dinner.
She looked over at the glass desk that he once worked a whole day with her ass print on, he liked it, she knows he did and he always wanted to do it again, but his mornings were hectic and he didn't have time then so they never did.
She was reluctant but walked the three steps over to the desk and bent over, leaning on her elbows knowing well that he's going to push her head and shoulders down onto the desk.
He didn't.
Bellamy lifted Clarke's skirt and pulled down her panties, she was ashamed at how wet she was but if he's going to fuck her, she might as well be lubed up. Bellamy placed his hand on her left butt cheek, gentle, barely even there, warning her where his hand would be coming down. It pulled away and slap! Clarke bit her lip, holding in a whimper, the first one was always nerve wracking. Bellamy's hand rested there, massaging her butt cheek, soothing the strike of his palm. He's done it on occasion, when it's a high number. Not three, three was nothing.
"One," she counted. She hated the counting, but it was necessary, he could miss count or she could and it's better when they both are to keep each other honest.
His palm ghosted her right cheek and slap!
"Two," she said as he massaged her ass again.
He pulled her panties back up before he folded her skirt back down. "You're done. Take the rest of the day."
"I'm not take a day off just because you didn't like what I said."
"Go home, Clarke."
She nodded, more frustrated now than she was before. "You need help, Mr. Blake. If you don't talk to me and you don't talk to Octavia, you need to talk to someone because shutting people out isn't healthy."
"Go home, Griffin!"
Clarke grimaced and threw the door open and grabbed her purse and phone from her desk and walked to the elevators on the other side of the building without looking back, knowing the scene she just made.
Notes: