A/N: So this is way randomness, but the simple sentence that popped into my head "come to me" inspired this one. Its one of my shorter ones but has delicious raunchyness (for me at least.) I've been missing the Chair sex in the third season so before I knew it, it ended that way. Here you go-- Chair future fic with intensity (I hope.) I didn't proof this in the system that I usually do because its short and I sort of just wanted to get it out there.

Summary: The whole day he was just in the recession of her mind. She thought safety would come in her home. She should have known that he would lure her with a false sense of security. He would let her stew for the day and when she was least expecting it, he would make her his all over again

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Unbeta-ed. (WTF are the writers doing?)


"You didn't come to me."

She was already shaking. The way his seductive voice growled in her ear was something she remembered all too vividly. It was too much like stolen moments in high school. It was too much like parties with power outages and secret accidental rendezvous in bedrooms.

There was a command in his voice that always resorted her into this quivering mess. She couldn't look, couldn't think, couldn't breathe. She knew if she lost herself in the depths of his eyes, it would truly be over for her.

But she could bite him back. When he pushed, she pushed with ten times the force. She didn't have to look at him when she told him. Even if his gaze commanded it of her.

"I don't belong to you."

Instead of snapping her jaws menacingly, she came out weak. She didn't know how he could stand that feeble tone in her voice. It wasn't who she was. She wasn't weak. Not anymore. But he made her that way. He made her whatever he wanted her to be.

"You didn't come to me," he repeated menacingly. She knew what that meant. She knew every inflection of his undertones. She knew what he was really saying. You've always belonged to me.

She was glad that it wasn't what he said. Then she would have to go through the effort of trying to deny it. But the truth was that was the truth. The truth was the first man to touch her had forever tainted her with his essence. She could always feel his touch burn into her flesh. She would forever feel his breath and groans muffled in her hair.

She wouldn't be weak. She couldn't be weak. But that's what happened whenever she did come to him. He demanded it of her. She couldn't admit how much she needed it. His touch set her aflame and she felt things with him that before, she had no idea existed. It something no other man could incur into her blood. He made her special. But she could never admit it. She could never give him the power.

"Blair."

There it was. The thing that always broke her. The way he would growl her name in her own ear made her tremor. She loved the attention he gave her. And try as she may, she would never be free of him.

"No," she replied as coolly as she could. "I didn't."

"Why?" he demanded.

He hated it when he didn't get his way. He always had to be in control, always had to be in power. Its why they grated. Its why they loved as passionately as they did.

"Because I'm not at your beck and call," she snapped.

"I called you," he said with dangerous softness, the tone that sent warning bells in her head. Her back still turned towards him. "And you didn't come to me."

His name was on the tip of her tongue. She could utter that one detrimental syllable and it would all be over. She would be over because she would finally submit to him.

Then she felt the danger course through her veins. Those two words. Those two syllables. Not the three that caused them so much angst, but the two that were always right. They were the two that they had always known and had been true since the start.

"You're mine."

His hands were clenched almost painfully on her upper arms and she knew there was no getting out of this.

When she had walked in her apartment that night, she was sure she was safe. She tried not to think about it. She hadn't been picking up her phone the dozens of times he called her. His eyes scalded hers at the society events but she just knew she was just that much closer to breaking if she let him breach her again.

The night before, however, was something different. She didn't know why. She didn't know what possessed her to pick up the phone. Both of them were sober. They weren't impaired or inebriated. They were just them. Maybe that was the point.

She picked up and he drawled deeply to her.

He said things to her in that sweet voice that she never thought she would hear again. And she didn't want to hear it from anyone else. It was only him. It was only them. He told her all of the things she had been dying to hear. He told her everything he knew would make her come.

But she didn't. She knew she couldn't. She couldn't just fall at his feet like so many times before. She refused him. Not to his face, of course, because that was always impossible. But she put down the phone and promised herself that she wouldn't show.

She knew that would inspire his wrath and his need for her to increase. But she just couldn't go to him.

"Always have, always will."

And she believed him. She believed from the moment he first touched her to forever and always, would they belong to each other. Even before, when they sneered and plotted, it had always been them. They just couldn't see it yet. But here they were and Blair finally admitted it. There could be no one else for her. No one.

"Be with me."

He was so blunt, so direct. He didn't like getting refused. He didn't like getting rejected. No one really did but it was worse when it came from her. He was rarely refused. He knew how to work her. He knew the exact places to touch, the exact sweet profanities to rasp in her ear. He knew just how to pull her hair and mar her skin. He knew how to claim her with his teeth, marking her for all the world to see.

She thought she was finally safe that night. The whole day he was just in the recession of her mind. She thought safety would come in her home. She should have known that he would lure her with a false sense of security. He would let her stew for the day and when she was least expecting it, he would make her his all over again.

She should have been expecting it, really. She should have known appearances were never the same with him. Especially with him.

"I'll scream," she warned.

He called her bluff.

"Even better."

She would never scream. She would let him slide with poise and grace. And even if she did, she would only be screaming his names and jumbles of incoherent words.

That should have scared her. He should have scared her. What he said should have scared her. But it was him. And for some inexplicable reason, she felt safe while she was being frightened.

"I'm in love with you," he reminded her.

"You're in love with yourself," she retorted.

"Its the same thing."

When it came down to it, that was it. When she walked into her apartment as night loomed, she knew what it was. She walked in and knew she wasn't safe at all. It was dark but his silhouette was clear against the moonlight. The full moonlight that illuminated his magnificence.

He was lounging on her couch, his limbs sprawled out as he waited for her. He waited to have her again. He needed her and she didn't come.

"I need to have you."

She knew her resolve was weakening but she couldn't help it. He was the most real in moments like these. She knew he wasn't lying, wasn't manipulating. He was being truthful. He was being truthful to the only person who he could.

"You shouldn't be here."

"You should have come to me."

"I'm not your property, Chuck."

Mistake.

She could feel it while the syllable left her mouth. As well as her name was her weakness, the weakness he harbored was his own. The name that fluttered from her lips. She felt herself be spun around and she could finally stare into his eyes.

"Say it again."

She knew what he wanted.

"No."

"I waited for you," he said angrily. "I waited for you all night."

"I didn't ask you to," she replied sharply.

"Yes, you did."

She had to say it.

"Chuck."

He was right. Its all she asked of him. Not verbally but when they saw each other. Especially when they weren't supposed to. They weren't supposed to look, weren't supposed to touch. They weren't supposed to sneer as they passed. They weren't supposed to leer as they accidentally brushed up against each other in the crowd.

But it was all she asked for.

It was all any of them ever asked for. They said so much by saying so little.

So she hit him.

She was about to do it again when his strength grasped her wrists, pinning them above her head as he slammed her back into the wall. If she could have helped it, she wouldn't have called out. She wouldn't have given him the satisfaction. But she knew that she liked satisfying him.

"I wasn't planning on hurting you," he said roughly, smirking. "Much."

She swiftly brought up her knee, wanting to impair him. Once again, he was too fast for her. His hand hooked behind her knee, bringing her leg to wrap around his waist, slamming hard against her body.

They were pressed together in the most intimate way and Blair knew why she resisted. She couldn't take it all in. It was too overwhelming. She couldn't take the physical sensations that always overcame her. She almost fell bad for the people floors below them as they fall onto her carpet.

Almost.

They didn't even make it to the bed.

The floor was hard against her back but he was even harder. She wanted to clamp her hand over her mouth but his tongue was in her ear again.

"Scream for me."

She thrusted her fingers through the hair on the back of his head, pulling back harshly causing a growl to emit from his lips. She smirked in satisfaction and he bore down on her again.

"Blair," he shook with convulsions. "Won't you come to me?"
And she did.

Several times that night.