Birthday Presents
Summary: Everybody loves getting presents...
Rated: M
Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl.
You taste of scotch and cigarettes. I taste of champagne and strawberries.
Together we make our own flavor of Chuck and Blair. Blair and Chuck. My mouth slips over yours and I lose control of my body as it grinds against you. Laughter at my impatience, I growl at your frustratingly slow touches and fight back by shoving you to the wall.
"Enough screwing with me, Bass."
More laughter, "But you know how I adore screwing you."
Not one to shy away, you take it and allow my fingernails to bite into your skin as I rip open clothes and toss them to the ground where they lay useless. Many times I've mentioned we should just stop wearing clothes. But that would kill the game, the thrill of unwrapping each other like children with their birthday presents.
"I want you," I breathe after we break from a kiss. Rubbing fingers against my thighs, I know you want inside me as badly as I want you to. "Chuck, please…" I beg. You've turned me to begging you bass-tard.
"Where do you want me, Blair?"
I bite your bottom lip and suckle. Enough games, the waiting is killing me. Instead of answering with words, I grab you into my hands and hear you suck in a sharp breath. I grin in satisfaction and pressed my core against it. Without being told, you pick me up by my hips and bury deep into my entrance, filling me until I'm sure my eyes are beginning to water at the pressure. We trade places, my back against the wall and you driving into me.
The explosion of different sensations overloads me and I feel like I'm floating, untouchable, except for you alone. Only your touch, your passion can inflame and tame my internal fire.