"You've got to be kidding me!" Blair screeched.
Before she even walked into the room, Chuck could easily envision the look of disgust on his wife's face by her shrill tone of voice. Her snarled nose and narrowed eyes indicated her exact level of repulsion at whatever image reflected back at her through her phone's screen. As she approached him, he watched her in amusement for a moment before quirking his eyebrow in question. She tossed her phone onto the sofa next to him, watching the smirk spread across his lips as he took in the image before him. "It's cute," he mused for no other reason than to rile her up again.
"Cute?" she hissed. "What will happen as she starts getting wrinkles or gains weight? She will regret this. I just know it."
Chuck couldn't help but laugh at Blair's rant about something as inconsequential to her as his sister's tattoo. Truth be told, the placement was questionable and the design was entirely cliché. An infinity symbol with Nate's name in one loop and Serena's in the other didn't scream originality, but Blair reacted as if it were splayed across her forehead or chest. "It's on her foot, Blair. I don't think weight gain or wrinkles are going to matter much."
Blair glared at him haughtily and snapped, "Well, it'll fade and look terrible with how awful she is about protecting her skin from the sun. I swear she doesn't even apply sunscreen during the summer. And what if they get a divorce? This is her second marriage after all."
"It's Nate and Serena. They're not getting divorced," he reckoned, pulling her by the hand onto the cushion beside him. He wrapped his arms around her waist with his cheek resting against her head and challenged, "Besides, this is your second marriage. Does that mean that you wouldn't get my name etched into your perfect porcelain skin because you're afraid we might get divorced?'
She rolled her eyes playfully and leaned in to plant a full kiss to his lips, "Don't be ridiculous. I won't do it because it's trashy, so I'll just have to find other ways to prove my undying love to you."
He trailed his hand up her bare thigh, pausing for his fingers to toy with the hem of her lacy negligee, "Mmhm, I look forward to all of the creative ideas that I know you'll come up with, but I can't deny that you would be incredibly sexy with a tattoo."
"Ew," Blair grimaced outwardly, but her face softened slightly to indicate some level of intrigue. "How so?"
"Knowing that you're permanently marked for me and only me, having that secret little spot on your body that's hidden from the rest of the world but teases me with small little glimpses when you raise your arms or bend over," he pulled her into his lap, cupping her behind as he trailed kisses across her jaw and whispered, "It would drive me wild."
"You sound like you have a tattoo fetish," she tried to scoff, but it came out as a breathless whisper when she felt his erection pressing against her inner thigh. "Are you sure that it wasn't a conscious decision to get that rabid kangaroo on your ass? Thank God you got that monstrosity removed."
"I have a Blair fetish," he corrected, "You're the piece that makes it sexy. Not the tattoo itself, but the tattoo on you." He slowly raised her chemise over her head, brazenly letting his eyes take in the sight of her nearly naked form, "On the other hand, though, your body is flawless as it is - the very definition of perfection."
"Come on, Bass," she beckoned, standing from the couch, ensuring that her hips swayed dramatically as she sashayed toward the bedroom, "I'll let you draw invisible tattoos on my body all night long."
XOXO
Chuck used his knees to still Blair's kicking legs and held her arms above her head with one hand while his other tickled her side mercilessly. Childlike giggles, followed by a loud squeal when he reached the spot directly under her ribcage, filled the room until Chuck finally relented and let Blair overpower him. She straddled his thighs as if her weight could possibly be enough to hold him down. With feigned annoyance, she admonished, "You're lucky you didn't get a foot between your legs."
"That would be tragic," he whispered, pulling her head down to meet his in a teasing kiss, "Because then I wouldn't be able to get between yours."
"Ugh," she rolled her eyes, "You're still such a perv."
"Only for you," he responded, maneuvering her hips against his until he was fully sheathed inside of her. She slowly rose above him, bracing her hands against his chest, establishing a languid pace, neither of them feeling any need to rush. His fingertips trailed softly up her thighs over her hips to rest on either side of her waist.
She arched her back, giving him a glorious view of her body on full display for his eyes to devour. When his gaze fell down to her taut stomach, he slid his finger slowly to the supple skin of her hip bone. "Here," he whispered, guiding her into a quicker tempo.
The eyes she had squeezed shut opened to find him staring reverently at the spot where his finger rested. She leaned forward until her breasts brushed against his chest, and the new angle created just the right amount of friction to send them both into euphoria.
After several moments, she raised her hips from his with a sigh, dreading the moment that their bodies would no longer be connected. She plopped onto the bed beside him and asked, "What did you mean?"
"About what?" He asked, still half-delirious from release.
She laughed and moved his hand down her body to the spot he had focused on. "I've heard of a mind-blowing orgasm, but I didn't know it was capable of giving you amnesia. You said, 'here.' What did you mean by that?"
"If you had a tattoo, it would be right here," he lowered himself to press a chaste kiss against the tender flesh around her hip. "Right above the bend of your hips. Just for me to worship."
"Is that so?" she shivered as his chin brushed against the sensitive skin of her stomach. "And what, pray tell, would I have tattooed there?"
He ignored her question and instructed her, "Close your eyes."
She furrowed her brows suspiciously, "Good try, Bass, but I know what usually follows that phrase."
His eyes rolled playfully in her direction as he reached over to the nightstand and pulled out her silk blindfold. "Fine, wear this." He didn't give her a chance to refuse, immediately slipping it over her head.
"What are you doing?" she asked halfheartedly, intrigue replacing her skepticism. "I swear to God, if you draw…"
"I love you, but please shut up," he leaned in and kissed her softly, his tongue barely teasing her mouth before pulling away. "You need to learn to let some things be a surprise."
The tip of a black marker felt cold against her skin, and she flinched before relaxing back into the pillows. She focused in on the soft arches gliding across her abdomen, and she could almost picture the look of careful concentration outlining his features. She imagined that he would scribble his name and draw hearts around it, not unlike a teenage girl's notebook doodles. Her stomach contorted when she felt him blow cool air against her hip as if he actually needed to dry the ink from the Sharpie.
When he was finished, he placed the cap back on the marker, lest it stain their expensive duvet. He slowly kissed a path back up her body lingering at her chest for just a moment before reuniting his lips with hers. He whispered against her mouth, "Keep your eyes closed, and give me your finger." He trailed their joined hands across the drawing slowly, causing goosebumps to prickle her flesh from the teasing path he created. "What do you think I drew, Blair?"
"Um," she focused all of her attention on the lines her finger followed, "I felt several arches, so maybe a C and a B?"
"No," he dropped her hand from his and moved his fingers to caress the skin of her upper thigh, "Guess again."
"A heart?" She shivered as he worked his way closer to her center.
"Uh-uh," he murmured, letting his fingers just barely graze her folds. They had just had sex five minutes before, but she felt like she was going to pass out from the anticipation. She would never understand the sexual hold that he had on her, but God, he was talented. "Are you even trying, Mrs. Bass?" he teased.
"Chuck," she whined, "Just let -"
Before she could continue, he sank his fingers inside of her and pumped them against her g-spot. It didn't take much before she was writhing against him with abandon, desperately seeking her release. "What was that, Blair?" he asked, lowering his head to pull her hardened nipple into his mouth.
She shivered when his mouth replaced his hand between her thighs, and she was no longer capable of coherent thought. He pleased her slowly, taking her to the edge of sanity before backing off and beginning the entire process again. He ignored his own growing arousal in favor of watching his wife fall apart beneath him. Nothing was more erotic than her quiet whimpers in the throes of ecstasy, and he would spend the rest of his life searching for new ways to illicit this exact reaction from her. He'd been with many women, but he couldn't remember a single one of them. No one existed before her, and no one would come after. He belonged to her; he worshiped her. He'd give every worldly possession he owned to ensure her happiness.
"Chuck," she gasped his name in between delicate sighs, her entire body shuddering from the impact of her orgasm.
He smiled at his wife even though she couldn't see him through the blindfold. Her parted lips and heavy breathing stirred something inside of him. They'd been married for a little over a year, but he was still in awe of their life together. At one point in their volatile relationship, he was certain that he would never be good enough, never be capable of giving Blair the life that she deserved. But she'd spent every day of the past year showing him exactly how perfect they are for each other.
He climbed back up her body, stopping to dip his tongue into her navel and nip his teeth against the underside of her breast so that she arched her back off the bed at each unexpected touch. When he returned to her face, he kissed her deeply. "God, Blair," he panted against her lips.
"My thoughts exactly," she sighed, shivering as cool air hit her heated body. He must've turned on the ceiling fan with the remote that sat on the bed side table.
He covered her body with his, thrusting inside of her for the second time. His strokes were deep and slow; his hands grasped hers, pinning them above their heads so that she was completely at his mercy. "What did I draw, Blair?" he rasped between thrusts.
"Um, a -" her mind was hazy, and she could barely remember what he was referring to. "A crown? Because - oh, God - because I'm queen."
"Mhm, yes, you are." He groaned, pulling her legs up to wrap around his waist, connecting their bodies as close as humanly possible. "But this is more…personal."
"3 words, 8 letters?" she practically screamed as waves of pleasure washed through her.
"I love you, too, but no," he grunted through his release, grasping her hips tightly between his hands. "Come on, baby, you can do better than that."
"I don't know, Chuck," she panted. "I've guessed everything, and you've turned my mind to mush."
He slowly reached up and raised her blindfold, letting his hands caress the soft skin of her cheeks. When she looked down and couldn't quite bend in the right direction to make out Chuck's drawing around the curves of her body, he pulled her from the bed and stood her in front of the full-length mirror. Her heart thudded against her chest and she leaned back against her husband, his arms wrapping around her slender waist. She traced her finger along the outline of a pair of delicate wings. He kissed her temple and whispered, "These damn butterfly wings have been fluttering in my stomach since November 14, 2007."