Chuck was drunk within an hour of leaving the rehearsal, consuming an amount of scotch that would have quickly felled a lesser man.
For once Chuck resented his high tolerance for alcohol. All he wanted right now was to sink into oblivion, but the liquor wasn't even taking the edge off his anger.
He tried to focus on the provocative gyrations of the women on stage, all making rather obvious efforts at flirtation for their boss's benefit, no doubt wondering why the playboy with the legendary reputation for his generosity both in and out of bed appeared so disinterested in their evident and enticing attributes.
But all Chuck saw when he stared at stage was the memory of another dancer, one with a more refined quality and subtle sexuality than those who appeared before him now. One who knew she only had to shake her brunette curls slightly to make a man yearn to reach out and bury his hands in them, to pull her to him with those silky tresses, uncover the luscious curve of the neck beneath and trail hot kisses down her spine while she...
The dangerous direction of Chuck's thoughts was interrupted by a movement at his elbow, and a girlish giggle that announced his isolation was about to be interrupted.
"Hello, Chuck," Hazel cooed, dropping onto the couch beside him, in the same spot Blair had sat weeks before on the night that had changed his life.
Chuck's only answer was a scowl. He instinctually shifted himself away from the underling, who somehow seemed to be coming off even more desperate than usual in her short skirt that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. And 'hello Chuck', really? If it had been Blair her opening line would have been original and cutting and witty and would have made him smile, even if the substance of her speech didn't make him remotely happy. And if she ever did just say something as inane as 'hello', her tone would be sure to be laced with all kinds of hidden meanings and secrets, just for him. Always just for him.
The alcohol was starting to fog his thought processes, Chuck realised vaguely, as his mind seemed to slip from one errant thought to another. Hazel meantime was staring at him expectantly. Somewhat nervously too it would seem, as Chuck watched her fidget with the edge of her skirt, which had risen when she sat down higher than was really appropriate, even for a burlesque club.
"Yanking it down won't do any good when there's nothing there to yank," Chuck snapped at her.
Hazel's shocked eyes flew to his face. Crap, he looked and sounded mad, and that wasn't part of the plan. Penelope had given her very specific instructions on the role she was to play in the strategy to topple Blair. Theoretically, Hazel's mission, to seduce Chuck Bass, should be easy. But Chuck wasn't displaying any of his usual roguish charm or leering looks. Instead he was glaring at her with bloodshot eyes, obviously drunk and belligerent.
Well, maybe being intoxicated will make him easy to cajole into a compromising position, Hazel thought optimistically. So she plastered a coy smile on her face and licked her lips in what she hoped was an appealing manner.
"I thought you liked short skirts, Bass. And I wanted to be in keeping with the theme of this place," Hazel said, leaning in to him intimately.
Chuck cringed. Only Blair called him Bass. From anyone else it sounded wrong.
"The performers wear short skirts or lingerie as part of the act. The patrons normally have more class," he retorted.
"Uh...well...maybe I could dance for you," Hazel stammered, flustered but refusing to be deterred.
Chuck closed his eyes, memory of someone else's offer to dance washing over him. It had been completely different situation of course. Blair had danced in an assertion of her independence, not as some inept attempt to flirt with him. She had presented an intoxicating blend of innocence and confidence, unlike Hazel, who was calculating yet out of her depth.
"What do you want, Hazel?" Chuck asked, hoping to bring this absurd interview to an end.
Hazel blinked, then taking a deep breath leaned in and placed her hand on his upper arm. "Oh, I thought that would have been obvious Chuck. I want you."
Familiar as he was with the symptoms of female desire, Chuck would have wagered that a sexual escapade with him wasn't what Hazel wanted at all. She was evidently playing some kind of game for purposes of her own, but at the moment he wasn't interested.
"Well, I don't want you," Chuck spat. "And you should leave before I call security. You're in violation of the dress code.
Hazel flushed red at his harsh words. She jumped to her feet, feeling totally humiliated. Penelope would be pissed that her plan hadn't worked, but nothing was worth this mortification, even the chance to knock the Queen B down a peg or two. And by the looks of Chuck, he wasn't about to look at any other girl any time soon. She never would have believed it, but it seemed Blair really had done a number on him.
At that point, the object of both their thoughts suddenly appeared before them.
"Hazel, what are you doing here?" Blair questioned interrogatively, a note of apprehension in her voice.
A strange mixture of sickness and relief washed over Chuck. She had come. He realised now that he really hadn't expected her to. He had feared that he would never see her again, not properly, not when it was just the two of him and she was still nominally his Blair. He thought she might have just let things disintegrate between them. Let him walk into school someday soon to find her back in Nate's arms. He feared she would just ignore him and all that had happened between them, as if the best days of his life were just a figment of his imagination.
So it was a relief that she was here, that he would at least have some say in the way things ended between them. He didn't doubt that they were about to end. That was why he was feeling slightly sick. She would use words like 'mistake' and 'move on' and tell him that she had realised where her heart truly lay. That she saw now why Christine would choose Raoul, her insipid childhood sweetheart, over the scarred and monstrous Phantom, who could offer her only darkness and brokenness.
Unless, of course, he ended things first.
Chuck allowed a lazy smirk to lift one corner of his mouth. He reached out and grabbed Hazel's hand, yanking her onto his lap.
"Why, Hazel's here to entertain me of course," he drawled, bending down to press a kiss on her shoulder. "She can be so very entertaining."
Blair's heart plummeted. She had came here determined to push through whatever barrier Chuck placed between them, to show him she wasn't going anywhere and that she would just stick around until he figured out he loved her back. But it seemed he'd already sought comfort elsewhere. Seeing him with his arms around another girl made her nauseous.
Pushing down the bile, Blair focused her eyes on Hazel. The girl was history. There were clear rules about dating exes for the girls of the steps. That Hazel hadn't known Chuck was with, or had been with Blair, was irrelevant.
But the confusion Blair saw on Hazel's face gave her pause. She looked as surprised as Blair felt to find herself in Chuck's lap. And when Blair looked at Chuck she realised his expression appeared more pained than lustful.
He was playing her.
"Well, I hate to interrupt Hazel, but Chuck and I need to speak privately," Blair told the girl in the sweet yet commanding tone only she could manage. "Which means you need to depart. Now," she pronounced darkly as Hazel continued to look flummoxed.
Hazel bolted upright. Despite Penelope's efforts Blair was still Queen and Hazel couldn't ignore a direct order. Mumbling that she would see them later, she ran for the door.
Blair then allowed her attention to settle on Chuck. She took in the bloodshot eyes and the half empty bottle of scotch.
"I see someone's working hard for an early admission to Betty Ford. Guilty conscience, Bass?"
Chuck glared impressively up at her. "That presupposes I have a conscience, princess. Sorry to shatter your illusions, but despite your touching admission the other day, I've been wanting to get back to my old...hobbies...for a while now."
Blair blanched, but otherwise kept her face blank and neutral. Chuck's words were gutting, but he was conspicuously avoiding eye contact with her. She reached out and tipped his head towards her with her finger so he couldn't look away.
"So I'm supposed to believe you're still the same unfeeling robot you've always been? That's a lot of scotch to drink if you're not trying to drown out some unwanted emotions."
Chuck pulled away from her grasp. Damn her for being able to read him so well.
"What do you want, Blair?"
She paused, considering. She could play it cool, preserve her pride and probably end up walking away from him forever. Or she could put it all on the line, and risk Chuck shattering her heart even worse than he had the other day.
"You," she finally answered softly, settling herself astride him on the couch, hands on his shoulders, staring longingly into his eyes.
The same answer Hazel had given earlier, but its effect on Chuck now was completely different.
Chuck's blood began to thrum at the alluring possibilities of Blair's statement. He wanted to grab her savagely to him, to maul her, to rape her mouth and ravish her body. To take out all the anger he was feeling on her in a form of delicious sexual punishment.
Because Chuck didn't kid himself that Blair really meant it. After seeing her and Nate together he'd come to the conclusion he'd only been a toy to Blair. Someone fun to fool around with, but not someone she'd take out in public, or pursue a real future with.
But perhaps she'd decided she wanted one last go round before she settled down to a dull, respectable life with Nate. A last round of fireworks. Something excitingly electrifying to remember when she was in bed with Nate, pretending the passion she felt at the memory of Chuck was for him.
At the thought of Blair being with Nate in that way, Chuck suddenly grabbed Blair to him, kissing her roughly. "Fine," he bit off tautly. Hauling her up with him, Chuck stood and made his way to his private office, a few short steps away.
Blair moaned against him, attacking his face and neck with a shower of searing kisses, clinging to him with her legs. He responded to her kisses with ferocity, biting into her lower lip. He was going to mark her up tonight. Leave bruises and bite marks all over her body so that anyone looking at her would know that she'd been claimed. He was going to ram himself into her so hard that she would feel empty and sore and deprived for weeks afterwards, would feel where he'd been and feel his absence.
He kicked the door shut and placed Blair on her feet. She reached for his shirt, starting to undo his buttons, but he gripped her wrists in a vice-like grip.
"No," he said, face and voice cold. Blair looked up at him in confusion, but his expression didn't change. Blair wouldn't be in control of their activities tonight. Instead she would do exactly as he said, when he said it. She'd take whatever he gave her, and she'd like it. And he'd take from her, extract everything she had to give. Then maybe they'd be even. Then maybe he'd be able to move on.
"Go bend over the desk," Chuck said firmly.
Blair knew the command should have embarrassed or infuriated her, but instead she found the idea of being ordered about by Chuck extremely sexy, a shudder running through her as she imagined him driving into her from behind as she bent over the office furniture. So maybe their relationship wasn't the fairytale romance she'd dreamed of as a little girl, or imagined she had with Nate, but the passion between them was epic. And Chuck couldn't keep up the distance he'd been trying to put between them if they slept together. Things would go back to the way they were before.
In the short minute that it took Blair to process this thought and drift into a fantasy of Chuck taking her on the desk, he grew frustrated at her lack of response. Angered that she was taking too long to obey, Chuck twisted her arm behind her back and marched her over to stand in front of the desk, her back to the door.
"When I tell you to do something, you do it," he growled.
"Yes, Chuck," Blair answered meekly.
Chuck's cock twitched as she acquiescently bent herself over the desk, palms face down on its top, skirt pulling tight across her rounded and delectable ass.
He took a moment to steady himself, moving away from her and pouring himself a scotch from the sideboard. Downing a large swallow, he watched as she stayed dutifully bent. Part of him expected her to rise up and storm at him for his offhand treatment of her. But she stayed quite still, silently inviting Chuck to do what he wanted with her.
Blair's skin prickled with goose bumps as she felt Chuck's eyes rake over her. She felt exposed, but also strangely at peace, having given up control and handed it over to Chuck for the evening. She raised her head just a little, and Chuck's eyes snapped to hers.
"Pull down your panties," Chuck said, challenge in his voice.
Blair, mindful of his earlier direction, obeyed instantly, dragging her white lacy thong down from under her pleated navy skirt. She pulled them down over her thigh high stockings until they lay around the ankles of her Jimmy Choo pumps. As she prepared to step out of them, Chuck's voice stopped her.
"I didn't say to step out of them," Chuck informed her coldly. And with that he brought his palm down hard on Blair's butt cheek, causing her to cry out in shock.
"Don't do anything unless I tell you to do it either," Chuck whispered harshly against her ear. "And right now I want you with your underwear around your ankles."
His hand hadn't moved from where it had landed on her arse. He squeezed it viciously, but in a way that made Blair's innards tingle and pussy moisten.
Chuck's hand travelled down until he clutched the lips of her pussy between the sides of his fingers. He roughly rubbed them back and forth, scraping them as the friction made her wet, soaking him with her juices.
"That's my good girl," he said sardonically. "Always ready for me. Always ready to take my cock into her tight little pussy and squeeze it like the most well-trained sex kitten on the Upper East Side."
Chuck's other hand reached around Blair's waist to stroke her stomach softly as he lay a gentle kiss on her exposed nape. Then he moved his hand up to pinch her nipple through her blouse, following this action up by slapping her tit.
"So wet already! That's how I know, Princess. That's how I know you're not the good girl you pretend to be to the rest of the world. That you're not the frigid bitch who made Nate wait to fuck her for all those years. You're my good little slut."
Chuck's fingers worked her pussy faster, his efforts punctuated by pinches to her lips and sensitive bud. She knew she should be repulsed by the things he was saying to her, but she wasn't. If anything they were making her push herself harder against his hand, rock her hips faster as the first shudders of a delicious orgasm began to grip her.
Then suddenly Chuck removed his hand and brought his fingers to his lips.
"You see, Blair?" he asked musingly as he smeared her mouth with the copious juices of her nether lips. "Only a slut would come so quickly. Would produce such sweet nectar. Would be so needy, only a few weeks after her first time. Suck yourself off my fingers. Taste yourself and know what a little slut you are. And that you're all mine. Whenever and however I want."
Chuck's eyes closed in ecstasy as Blair sucked his fingers hungrily. His cock was rock hard, his rigidity pressing painfully against his trousers. It would be so easy to give in to the sensations Blair was evoking. To pull himself free and plant himself inside of her wet warmth. But he had to stay in control. He had plans for tonight.
He withdrew his fingers from Blair's mouth and stepped away from her body. Blair whimpered from the loss. Chuck laughed mirthlessly. "Such a talented tongue. Perhaps we can find another use for it."
He very deliberately stalked round the other side of the desk and eased himself into his padded corporate office chair. "Kneel before me," he instructed.
Blair did as he asked, placing herself at his feet. Chuck thought he had never seen a more lust-inducing sight than the image of Blair Waldorf, chestnut curls in disarray, crimson lipstick worn off and lips swollen from his rough kisses, underwear still around her high heels and blouse half undone with her soft white breasts spilling out, kneeling before him, ready to do his bidding.
Chuck reached down and placed her hands on either side of his thighs. "Unzip me," he directed gruffly.
Blair freed his monster erection, eyes growing wide as she contemplated taking such a huge member in her small rosebud mouth.
"Kiss it," Chuck whispered as he saw her hesitating. Blair leant forward and kissed the tip of his rod, tongue darting out to lick up the small drop of pre-cum already glistening there.
"Fuck Blair," Chuck was unable to refrain from groaning as she began instinctually to lick up the sides of his shafts in long, slow strokes.
He stared down to watch her efforts. Blair was a natural born cocksucker. She kept her eyes trained on him as she continued to wet his length with her mouth, their liquid brown depths seeming to question him, ask him for reassurance.
In response, Chuck placed his hand gently behind her head. "Just like that, my good little slut. That's right. Now take me in your mouth."
Blair began to swallow him between her swollen lips, quickly establishing a rhythm that sorely tested Chuck's control.
"Touch yourself for me," he muttered hoarsely. "Free you're breasts from that bra and squeeze your nipples. Hard. Harder!"
The combination of Chuck's dirty talk and the pleasurably painful things he was making her do to her breasts caused Blair to moan as she continued to suck Chuck's cock. The reverberation of feeling this caused on him almost brought him to the edge. He pulled his penis out of Blair's mouth with a plopping sound, then slapped it against her cheek.
"Naughty girls like you don't get to have me cum in their mouths," Chuck said. "They don't get me to lose control to them that way. I see you still haven't learnt your lesson."
Chuck appraised her for a moment, considering. "Set yourself across my lap. Face down, skirt up."
Blair eagerly did so. Before when he had slapped her ass it had been a surprise, but an undeniably pleasant one. She settled herself so that her thighs were across Chuck's centre on the chair, his erection pressed against the soft skin of her stomach.
Chuck leant back with an affectation of disinterest as Blair settled herself in position. Once she was still, he didn't immediately move to touch her, heightening the tension in her body by drawing out her apprehension. Then he let his hand leisurely stroke her stockinged leg.
"I think we can find another use for these now," he said as he removed her thong from her ankles. He wound it around her wrists so that her hands were bound behind her back.
The first smack came down hard on Blair's right cheek, leaving a noticeable red palm print and yielding a cry from Blair. Sharp smacks then began to rain down on both cheeks and onto her upper thighs, Blair's cries of pain mingling with moans of pleasure.
"I'm going to teach you a lesson now, Princess. I'm going to leave your ass so bruised you won't be able to sit down for a week. What will you tell your golden boy when he sees you wincing every time you do?"
Blair heard his words through her orgasmic haze, but they made no sense, and she was too lost in the moment to puzzle over them.
Chuck's hand moved to cup her mound. Then that too was subject to the sweet torture of quick smacks from his palm, which once again was becoming stained with her juices. Meanwhile the tingling she was feeling was growing quickly, and before long Blair's body grew taut as a second orgasm racked her body.
Before she had completely recovered Chuck had hauled her up and re-positioned her, so that she was sitting astride him on the chair, thighs splayed for his inspection.
"Take off your bra and top," he growled.
Blair's fingers shook so much she had trouble with some of the buttons, but Chuck made no move to help her, watching her fumbling with hooded eyes. Finally she was free, her firm breasts resting temptingly against her rib cage.
Chuck took the bud of her left breast between his fingers, squeezing the sore tip roughly, while sucking savagely against the skin of her other breast in a way guaranteed to leave a tell-tale bruise.
His mouth made a trail of such marks across her breasts and collarbone as he continued to pinch and slap her sensitive teats, ensuring her front would be just as bruised as her back after tonight's interlude.
Finally, he couldn't wait any more. "Stand up, turn around and spread your legs," Chuck ordered.
Blair was by now quite wobbly on her feet but she steadied herself against the desk, hands gripping the edge for support. She meekly spread her legs, preparing herself for him as he'd instructed.
Without prelude Chuck stepped behind her, ramming himself into her heat.
"Yes, Chuck," she shouted, as he took her roughly, savagely, burying himself balls deep inside her before pulling almost all the way out only to slam back in again.
Blair's eyelids fluttered and her eyes rolled up as her body started to spasm once more.
"Take it like that," Chuck moaned. "Let me enjoy my sweet little plaything one last time."
Blair paid no attention, aware of nothing but him pounding into her.
"Fuck me, Chuck!" she cried, pushing herself into his thrusts. Her pussy juices were overflowing, the hot fluid running down Chuck's cock and soaking his balls.
Chuck's lust for Blair was inflamed beyond his wildest imaginings. He continued to slam into her, pumping her needy pussy hard. Then with a growl he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. As he felt his cock begin to pulse, he abruptly pulled out, turning her over before letting loose all over her naked breasts, thighs and face, streams of the sticky white seed jetting across her body.
Then he sank bank into the chair, exhausted.
Blair stayed sprawled across the desk, coated in Chuck's essence. Her tongue twitched out to lick some of the cum from where it had landed on her chin. Chuck's cock gave a final jerk at the sight.
It had been the most mind-blowing experience of Chuck's life, yet now all he was left with was an icy fist clawing at his insides. Because he'd tried to just fuck Blair Waldorf, to use her savagely like any of the other girls who meant nothing to him, and it hadn't worked. She meant everything to him, and when he was with her, no matter how rough it was, he wasn't just fucking. He was making love.
Oh, fuck. He loved Blair Waldorf.