A/N: So I know I haven't updated anything in awhile. But I just finished midterms so in celebration, I'm submitting a little o/s. But I shall get back to updating imminently!

He pins her against the wall and she's short of breath.

They're seventeen and she's discovering everything she never knew about herself.

"I don't like it when you talk to me that way."

She's eighteen, painfully in love and even more painfully turned on.

It's always a mix with him.

"I know that just means that you do like it."

She's sharp and she likes the feeling of him against her. She wants him to bite her until they both bleed.

His tongue is in her mouth and she's never felt anything so hot.

"Willful bitch."

"Arrogant bastard."

They used to survive on each other's kisses. There were times when they didn't have room for anything else. All they used to have were a few stolen moments before her ex-boyfriend turned the corner or her best friend would cast her judgmental eyes on them.

Then she didn't love that ex-boyfriend.

"Remember?"

"Always."

Even older, they'll always be the teenagers that didn't understand what they were when they stared at each other. That wasn't what love was supposed to be. Love was fairytales and she wanted a white knight while he didn't want anything at all.

All he had were peasant girls.

They valued their lust for destruction but never knew it was really lust for something else.

They could never be sated. Their hearts pound in unison as they pound into each other and they've never felt anything like it and could never hope to.

He storms by her and her heart aches. She sees that fury in him and almost hates how much she longs for his jealousy. Otherwise he won't say how he feels.

He just stares.

He storms by her because he's angry but when they're in the dark room together, they can never remember why.

They're adults now, but they'll always be those teenagers.

Is it a game now? Or have they stopped playing?

He still slams doors. She should go after him.

She will.

But she'll torture him first.

She'll lick the blood from his wounds and he'll just watch with aroused eyes.

She loves public like he does. They find each other in dark corners

He's glad they meet again.

"What do you expect when you act like a spoiled child?"

"What was that?" he asks dangerously.

It scares her how much she loves it.

"You always get what you want, don't you?" she asks. "But you won't get me."

He makes a grab for her, but she knows this move well.

She evades him easily.

"Try and wrack your brain, princess," he said. "I've had you harder and more often then you could ever hope for."

"Shut up."

She hates that word now.

He knows this.

She didn't really like it before either.

He was always too familiar with her.

"Deal with the fact that you won't get your way with me."

She doesn't coddle him and she knows he likes that.

She slams the door in his face and knows that he follows her in the dark.

When he finds her alone again, he slams her against the wall. His face is in her neck and she's glad he can't see her eyes roll to the back of her head.

Again.

"I don't like it when you talk that way to me," Chuck growls.

She's panting and she could find her release right there without him doing a thing.

All it takes is skin to skin.

She can feel him against her.

"You want me to make it hard."

Her fingers clench and he understands the double meaning.

"When you say that, I know that just means you do like it," Blair continues.

He can't speak and she likes it when it's her turn.

"You like a challenge, don't you, Bass?"

She's always had the answer.

He can have her on the piano, on the stairwell, but what he really likes is getting to her bedroom and missing the bed by inches.

When he speaks, he's still out of breath.

"You willful bitch."

"I know what you like, you arrogant bastard," she replies. "Thinking you can always have me."

"You always have to make things interesting."

"Life with you is never boring."

They have each other again and again until finally they make it to the bed, twisted up in the duvet that she knows that she could never fully scrub his scent out of.

She used to want to.

Now she can't live without it.

He's marked her duvet and he marks her thighs and when they howl, their mating is complete.

Only to do it all over again.