Ok, i know i have other stories out right now and i shouldn't be adding anymore writing to my plate at the moment, but i couldn't help myself. Besides, there will only be one or two more chapters to this, it's very short. Anyway its A LOT of sexual content so...you've been warned. Anyway, i hope you enjoy. Reviews always appreciated. Happy Readings! xoxo

"Don't push your luck, Waldorf," Chuck threatened quietly as he paced the length of the room, the knuckles of his hand colored white as he held on to his glass of scotch tightly. He didn't care if the glass shattered in his hand and cut and mutilated him. In fact, he might even revel in the pain that it would bring, as long as he had something else to focus on besides the petite brunette that had cornered him in the empty library of the Archibald's home.

Of course she would luck stunning. It was like a sick, twisted game God played with him. Every time he saw her, she looked irresistible, beautiful, perfection incarnate. Not a hair out of place, no ill fitting makeup, no out of style fashion or disturbing body hygiene. She looked better and better with time. And alongside that, with each passing moment of time she came closer and closer to becoming Mrs. Nathaniel Archibald.

The glass in his hand made a distinctive screeching sound that informed him it wasn't within a thread of it's life. Fuck!

Blair stood by the door of the room, hand cocked on her perfectly rounded him, lips pouty and pursed sardonically at him. She looked ravishing and she knew it. Red Valentino dress hugging her pert breasts, cinching at her waist tightly, showing off her amazingly small waist, and rounding out generously at her curvy hips and bountiful ass. God he wanted to grab on to her ass, grab on to it as her long, lean legs wrapped around his waist and he shoved his cock into her over and over until she forgot her name. Until he could manage to forget her face. Which he figured would take a lot of fucking in order to accomplish. He smiled slightly at the direction of his thoughts.

"I asked you a question, Bass. What are you doing here?" Blair asked with a slight edge to her voice. She pushed away from the door and walked over to the desk, sitting on the edge and crossing her arms under her breasts.

Chuck's eyes struggled to focus as her breasts rose a few centimeters out from beneath the silk of her dress, and her creamy thighs were revealed as her dress hiked up higher on her legs. Whether she was doing it unconsciously or not he didn't know, nor did he care. His hand twitched in sync with his crotch as he fought to suppress the sudden burning desire that spread through his veins.

Damn infuriating woman!

"I told you not to push your luck. What are you doing here?" Chuck threw back instead, avoiding her question with a calm tone he was truly not feeling. He was shaking on the inside. His heart was thundering like a pack of wild horses on a rampage. He cock was throbbing as painfully quick as his heart, his entire being focused on that pulsing point. Why the hell is she here?

He hadn't seen her in over six months. Six months. When she'd told him that she was marrying Nathaniel, and that their "relationship" had to end. He'd walked out of her life that day, swearing he would never see her again, wishing all sorts of damnation on her and Nathaniel. She'd ended their affair without a second thought, the realization that her childhood fantasies were finally coming to fruition prompting her to kick him to the curb. He'd vowed he'd never speak to her again, never think of her again. He'd devoted the following three months to fucking any and every woman that came his way. He'd fuck himself senseless and then drank himself into alcohol induced comas. When he wasn't having sex or drinking, he would take a hit of any drug he could get his hands on, and that always led to more fucking and more alcohol.

After three months of living in a slow, consuming hell, he'd decided to crawl himself out of the hole he'd buried himself into. He'd gone on to London, where he'd started a new business venture the likes of Victrola, and finally earned the respect of his father. He'd worked on the start up of the company, and then a few days ago he'd heard from Serena and Eric who'd mentioned Blair and Nate's engagement party.

And now here he was.

She asked him what he was doing there.

He had no idea what he was doing there.

Maybe he wanted to see his former best friend and his former lover walk down the aisle to wedded bliss. Maybe he wanted to congratulate them and torture himself. Maybe, just maybe, he wanted to see her one more time. Because once she was married and became Mrs. Blair Waldorf-Archibald, he would never be able to lay an eye on her ever again.

"How am I pushing my luck?" Blair asked with a slight edge to her voice. "This is, after all, my house. And I'm asking you what you're doing here since you weren't invited. I don't care for the fact that you've decided to show up at my wedding rehearsal, mere hours before I get married. And after all this time no less. It's been months, Chuck. Now I repeat...what the hell are you doing here?"

Chuck walked closer to the desk until he caught a whiff of her perfume and cursed under his breath. It was the same perfume. The same perfume she always wore. The perfume she knew tortured him and was his undoing.

"I repeat...don't push your luck. I don't think you're aware just how much I've drunken tonight," Chuck drawled hotly as he approached her and stood a few inches in front of her, trapping her against the desk she leaned against.

"And what is that suppose to mean? Should I be afraid?" Blair laughed in that condescending tone he hated. Bitch. Just like always.

"I don't know. Maybe," Chuck said causally. "Why did you follow me in here, Waldorf? Why are you not out there entertaining your guests?" He asked as he absorbed the finally drop of his drink and slammed the glass against the desk.

Blair's eyes flinched slightly, but she refused to budge from where she stood. Mainly because she had no place to go.

"Well I just wanted to make sure you weren't here to make a scene. And also, to tell you that your presence is not really wanted," Blair said as her eyelids lowered a fraction, and a dark glint colored her eyes.

"Don't worry, princess. I'm not here to make a scene. And I was actually invited. By Nathaniel. So you see, my presence is desired." Chuck lifted his hand and traced a line down her arm, basking in the feel of her silky skin.

"Don't touch me," Blair warned, her voice changing in pitch, the quiver in her voice evident. Chuck knew the signs, he knew her better than she knew herself. She was responding. After all this time, she was still not immune to him.

"You're not married yet," Chuck shot back casually as his hand settle comfortably against her hip.

"Chuck, I told you this was over. Months ago. Don't start this right now..." Blair warned on a whisper. The feel of his hand against her hip causing her resolve to falter.

Six months ago she'd told him she'd accepted Nate's proposal. Six months ago she'd told him she would marry Nate Archibald. Six months ago she had hoped he would beg her not to marry Nate. She'd hoped he'd ask her to stay with him, that he'd fight for her. But he'd let her go. He'd let go of two years of love, sex and passion. He'd thrown away years of comfort, of obsession, of desire. He'd never made their relationship more than a sordid affair, and she couldn't continue living her life that way. No matter how much she wanted him. No matter how much she loved him.

She loved him. Loved him since the first time she'd made love to him. From the time she'd lost her virginity to him. When she'd came back from college, she'd started dating Nate again out of habit, but then Chuck came into town and they'd began their elicit affair all over again. Chuck wanted to remain casual. He was comfortable with sharing her with Nate, which infuriated Blair and yet she couldn't keep away. And so she'd tolerated years of secrecy, of unfaithfulness, of secret rendezvous in corners, closets, bathrooms, bedrooms. She'd tolerated years of lies and deceit all for the magic of his touch, for the way he made her feel alive, something Nate could never do. But when Nate had proposed, promised to give her everything she'd ever dreamed of, she couldn't resist. Chuck gave her everything, everything but that. She couldn't give it up.

"Blair...you know this was never over..." Chuck reasoned as his other hand came up and wrapped around the back of her neck. He leaned in close, his breath warm and smelling of liquor against her cheek.

"Chuck, please." She sounded weak. She sounded desperate. He needed to pull away. If he didn't...if he didn't she wouldn't be able to control herself.

"Just one more time," Chuck whispered against her ear, the feel of his warm breath sending her every nerve ending into overdrive. She felt her body clench and unclench in response to his words, her body long denied the magic of his touch.

"Chuck...no..." Blair breathed pathetically as she felt her body sagging against the desk.

"Yes..." Chuck breathed back, turning his face and capturing her mouth with his own.

There was no softness, no romance, no tenderness or promises. He wanted her. Wanted to prove he could still have her. Wanted to prove to himself that he could fuck her and walk away, just this one last time. He wanted to bury himself inside of her until this driving lust that propelled him toward her was satiated and he could move on with his life. He needed to get her out of his system.

Raking his hands savagely across her thigh, he hiked her dress up toward her waist until he reached the band of her underwear. He'd met a thin strap of lace and looked down at her exposed body. She wore a scrap of black lace, a barely there material that offered glimpses of white skin beneath. Groaning at the sight, he cupped her through the material, and with his finger, prodded against her wetness.

God she was wet. She had soaked through her underwear after only a rough kiss. The lacy underwear was now pressed intimately against her clit, with his finger rubbing vigorously back and forth. She felt her cunt pulsing, throbbing, signaling how close her climax was.

I shouldn't. I can't! her mind cried uselessly.

"Mm, you're almost there aren't you baby?" Chuck groaned against her ear as his hand continued to work her clit, in slow circles and hard, fast strokes.

"Chuck...no...God..." Her climax broke through her as she writhed wildly beneath him. The contents of the desk scattered across the floor as she moved and rubbed herself against his body. Chuck held her close and captured her wetness against his hand and fingers. As her movements quelled beneath him, he brought his fingers to her mouth and traced her lips with her wetness. Again he captured her mouth, with the taste of sex and desire in every sweep of their tongues.

Blair moaned desperately beneath him as her hands worked their way to the front of his pants and removed his manhood quickly. Her small hands clasped him firmly between her fist, and she began to pump him expertly, in a way only she knew how. Pushing him off of her, she knelt on the floor in front of him, and staring up at him wickedly with that oh-too-familiar glare in her eyes, she took his cock into her mouth.

Chuck almost came apart right then and there. He hadn't felt this sweet heaven in so long. Her warm tongue, full lips, sucking motion were all too much in his present state. As she began to work him with her tongue and hand at the same time, Chuck pulled her away roughly and lifted her effortlessly onto the table.

"I'm going to fuck you now," he said softly, and she spread her thighs in complete acquiescence.

He slipped inside her easily, her tight walls wrapping firmly against him and milking him with her wetness. A loud, guttural groan escaped his lips as he felt that exquisite perfection he felt only when he was buried to the hilt inside of her.

"Tell me..." he moaned between pants, his breath failing him, but needing to know just the same.

"What?" she gasped just as he reached the enticing inch deeper, touching her in a spot no one else could.

"Does he fuck you like I do?" Chuck asked roughly, stilling his movements as he looked down into her eyes. Blair strained against the loss of Chuck's thrusting length and moaned in frustration.

"Tell me," Chuck bit out between clenched teeth. Having her writhing beneath him was difficult, and he was afraid he would lose control sooner than he wished.

"Chuck..." Blair pleaded desperately. How could he expect her to talk at this very moment?

"Tell me Blair. Who fucks you better?" he repeated.

Blair stared up at him wide eyed.

Chuck smiled and moved slightly within her, reaching that spot he touched moments ago and eliciting a gasp from her. "Does he do this?" Chuck asked as he began a slow tantalizing motion that rendered her breathless and had her gasping and groaning beneath him. She grabbed onto his hips, trying to quicken the pace, but enjoying the slow, consuming feel of his cock sliding in and out of her just the same. She began gyrating her hips, touching her g spot with the movement, feeling herself on the brink of climax.

Chuck allowed her to bring herself closer and closer to orgasm. As he felt her walls begin to flutter against him, he grasped on to her hips and held her firmly in place. Blair cried at the loss of contact, at the loss of a mind numbing orgasm.

"Or does he do this?" Chuck started as he lifted her legs over his shoulders and began to pound inside of her at a neck breaking pace. In a few swift thrusts she was crying beneath him, gripping, groaning, scratching, moaning. She was falling apart. She was...

He stilled his movements once again. "Does he fuck you like I do?" Chuck asked again, his breath short, his own control barely in check.

Blair felt the tears in her eyes as her body pulsed and vibrated beneath his weight. "No...no...never," she whispered quietly, knowing it was the truth no matter how much she wanted to fight it.

"Who fucks you better?" Chuck grounded out.

"Y-you. Always you," Blair cried out, reaching up and grabbing his face. She pulled him into a rough, wet kiss, and Chuck lost himself inside of her, over and over and over.

He was in heaven.

She was his hell.