A/N: I'm not sure how unoriginal this is even with the quotes of inspiration. Its just things that happened before Victrola, but not very long before. Quote comes from Faith when she's sort of coming on to Spike so I thought it fit, if only a little bit (Buffy, once again.) A lot of people have been doing Holiday centered fics but the muse hasn't hit me like it did for Halloween, so I'm just doing another sexually charged one I wrote awhile ago.

Summary: I could have anything. Anyone. I could ride you at a gallop until your legs buckled and your eyes rolled up. I've got muscles you've never even dreamed of. I could squeeze you until you popped like warm champagne and you'd beg me to hurt you just a little bit more. And you know why I don't? Because its wrong.

Disclaimer: All rights go to Gossip Girl and the fantastic quote goes to BtVS (who knew.)

I could have anything. Anyone. I could ride you at a gallop till your legs buckled and you eyes rolled up. I've got muscles you've never even dreamed of. I could squeeze you until you popped like warm champagne and you'd beg me to hurt you just a little bit more. And you know why I don't? Because its wrong.


--Who Am I?

I could have anything. Anyone.

Blair Waldorf was the epitome of privilege. Having anything you wanted just did things to you. 12 years and she was sure she had everything. 12 years and she had the perfect boyfriend and the world on the string. But it was 12 years and she realized there was one thing that she didn't want that she had.

Chuck Bass.

It was the most infuriating thing to have your boyfriend's best friend smirk at you from afar, questioning everything you do. Because there was one thing that Chuck possessed that others couldn't even dream of having. He knew the utter and complete truth that was Blair Waldorf.

He knew things people couldn't even comprehend. He knew things her own boyfriend was too blind to see. And there was one undeniable fact that he had obtained that couldn't even count against induced vomiting and insecurities. The real secret was that Blair Waldorf wanted Chuck Bass. She just didn't know it yet.

It fueled his ego. To have some prim and proper Upper East Side princess want the resident bad boy was an aphrodisiac. But he was using it wrong. He was using it to get other girls when the one girl would just shake her head in his direction and go off with her perfect boyfriend.

It wasn't until much later that he had another epiphany. It wasn't just that he liked that she had no idea what she wanted. She went around pretending to be perfect when what she wanted was so dark and dirty even she didn't know what it was. But then it happened.

An insignificant day occurred and he cursed himself for it. An insignificant day happened when Nate was closing up the family yacht for the year and he just happened to be privy to such information that even Gossip Girl hadn't caught wind of.

Blair Waldorf made out with a random stock broker. At first, Chuck wasn't exactly sure what he was seeing. It didn't calculate; didn't add up. She was completely committed to one Nathaniel Archibald. But suddenly his insides were seething and he felt his insides boil. He couldn't understand it until he saw Blair squirm from the skin that society saw to the dank bar that showed her true colors. Her awful and evil colors that he had to take a closer look at.

He felt her tense under his harsh grip when she had left her friends at the bar. He loved moments like these when she would look up at him with those big brown eyes of her and he would see genuine emotion. He liked it more when it was fear. He had a misogynist streak to him.

But now she was just looking at him skeptically. Not a lot of people dared to touch her in such a way. Then again, he was Chuck Bass.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Trying to extricate myself from your demeaning grasp, thank you very much," she sneered. He liked it. She wasn't being small tonight. This gave him a better chance. She always packed a punch that Nathaniel could never see.

"Waldorf," he said slowly as she deigned to look at him, knocking back clear liquid. "I don't see Nathaniel around."

"Your powers of observation never fail you," she retorted with a simple roll of her pretty eyes. "You know where he is."

"Do you?" Chuck countered. "Your little discretion with that scum across the room seems to delude you into thinking you don't have a boyfriend."

Blair almost couldn't contain her excitement. She didn't know what this was, but it was something new and she liked it.

"So what?" she asked. She liked watched his smug smirk fall. "Nate's not here, is he?"

It was all the more satisfying that he didn't know that it was on a dare. This would be fun.

"You seem to have a misconception about my loyalties," he drawled slowly.

"And you seem to have a misconception about me," she replied coolly. He watched her idly as she took steps towards him. He knew that look of the predator on her face. He had worn it many times. He hated how his heart rate was jacked from a simple... girl.

She's just a girl. Remember, Bass? Your best friend's girl.

"I don't see Nate," she continued. "Do you? Because I guarantee you that even if he was here, I would be doing the same thing I am now."

"Is that so?" Chuck asked darkly.

"It is," she said with her fake sweetness. "Because it wouldn't matter. Nate's just a boy. And do you know what I am?"

"A stuck-up, conceited bitch?" he snapped.

He had seen this side of her rarely. He was beginning to remember why he had blocked the memories away. Because she was hot.

That was all there was to it. Nate couldn't contain a girl like her. And more and more, Chuck was wanting to see if he could. And that way she was suddenly pressed up against him in unprecedented seduction was definitely turning him in a way that was also unprecedented.

"Among many things," she said softly into his ear. "But most of all, I'm everything. Nate is some privileged stoner who is easily manipulated."

That wasn't exactly a lie. In fact, it was exactly truth.

"I wanted him so I had him," she continued. "And he accepted. Because the thing is, Bass, I can have anyone."

He knew her taunt was coming before he even heard it. Because he knew her. He knew her better than anyone.

"Even you, Chuck."

She leaned away tantalizingly and all he wanted was her warmth on his body again. And before he knew it, he was leaning into those tempting lips.

"Don't flatter yourself," she said, shoving him away slightly. His eyes narrowed and then he got it. "I made out with that guy because it was a dare, Chuck."

He glowered at her and her stupid, beautiful smile. She played him and now he was angry. He should have realized that tonight was the soirée. Ill timing, Bass.

"Go ahead and tell Nate," she said, backing back to her friends. "He knows about my sleepovers."

Chuck watched her saunter away without complaint. He had been so close to betraying trust that he knew that this girl was trouble.

And that she was completely worth it.

I could ride you at a gallop until your legs buckled and you eyes rolled up.

She drove him insane. It wasn't even the fact that he was clearly having lustful and inappropriate dreams about the one person he shouldn't. It was the fact that she knew she was driving him insane. He was so tired of her flouncing around when she wasn't even giving it up to her own boyfriend. If it were him, that would be over and done with. Then again, that was probably why he didn't want a girlfriend. They were too... predictable. There wasn't one girl that had everything in her that would satisfy him.

Oh, wait. Except one.

Damn tease.

It didn't use to bother him. They way they would shamelessly flirt in front of Nate who just thought it was ChuckBlair and no one really questioned it. They should have. Then maybe Chuck wouldn't have gotten drunk after Blair refused Nate after he didn't find her by midnight and done something he could have almost regretted.

He found her easily. He knew she wouldn't have gone straight home to face the scrutiny of her mother. He could relate. That was why he relished having a suite of his own. Bart's judgmental and disappointed eyes couldn't follow him everywhere.

Unfortunate for her, however. He found her in the lounge after the Masquerade had cleared out. He hadn't expected to find her. He was planning on sulking after getting locked on that roof and losing his very expensive suit (which Blair happened to compliment him on) and not getting laid. This didn't appear to be a very successful night. That is, until he spotted her reflection, donned in a crown, sans mask.

Chuck steadied himself against the mirror and watched her whirl to face him. For the first time since he could really remember, she didn't seem disappointed. He wasn't sure if what she really wanted was for Nate to chase her and confess his undying love for her. But for a split second, Chuck let himself believe the impossible. Maybe she was waiting for him. She knew he would be here. Maybe for once, she wanted him.

As soon as that thought entered his mind, however, he let it disappear. Those thoughts were toxic and they would lead nowhere. Unless, of course, he was trashed out of his mind. Then he really couldn't be held accountable for his actions, now could he? It wasn't like he had high hopes for just deflowering her in the least romantic way ever right here (because as much as he hated to admit it, he knew exactly what she wanted-- even more so that Nate, apparently.) But maybe he was just what she needed right now.

"Hey," Chuck slurred helpfully, "at least he didn't go and sleep with your best friend this time."

"And how would you know?" Blair asked hoarsely. He realized that he wasn't the only one who had been drinking that night. This would make things exponentially much easier and guilt free. But that would make this premeditated and there was no way he was going to premeditate sleeping with his best friend's girlfriend. And it wasn't going to happen. It just wasn't. Those fantasies were for naught.

"Because I would know," he answered honestly. "Remember? I'm Chuck Bass. I know everything."

"Oh, right," she laughed lightly. "I forgot."

"I can't imagine how," Chuck muttered to himself. It was only after that when he realized that laugh was the very first laugh he could remember coming from her. And he was the one who inspired it. It was bad encouragement, but encouragement nonetheless. This was looking worse for her by the second.

"Can I ask you something?" she said, almost drowsily. He wondered idly how good she was at faking sobriety. He had a theory that it rivaled his own.

"Is it dirty?"

Not one of his best, but he was drunk.

"You tell me," she said seriously. He froze. "When you look at me like that, like the way you're doing... what are you thinking?"

"Are you asking me what I'm thinking right now?" he asked in surprise. No woman had ever asked him that before. This truly was an alternate experience. He always thought that question would be endlessly irritating, but when she asked him, he had the compulsion to answer.

"I guess I am," she sighed. He knew she just wanted some truth in her life so he would give it to her. Even if it wasn't what she wanted.

"I'm thinking..." he responded slowly, waiting for the explosion, "what it would feel like if you let me inside of you right here, right now."

He didn't even get the slap he was expecting. That was slightly disappointing. She was just looking at him thoughtfully. He wasn't really sure what to make of it. He wasn't really sure what to make of her anymore. But she wasn't responding. And when she did things like that, he knew there was only one way to pursue this. He was going to push her off the edge until he did gage a reaction.

"I was wondering, if my wildest fantasies were right," he said huskily, reveling how his tone so easily grated into that bedroom voice. "I was wondering how loud you would scream my name. I was wondering how good you would feel."

He had backed her into the mirror and he had no intention of stopping now. Their bodies were perfectly aligned.

"I was wondering how well I would fit into you."

Her nails suddenly embedded deeply into his exposed chest, shown off by the wife beater.

"Stop," she commanded. But it wasn't her usual voice. She was shaking and he thought maybe he could catch her if she fell. He was always catching her. It was just that no one was around to see it. No one would believe it.

"I was wondering how hot you are for me," he drawled, "like I am for you."

"Stop it," she exclaimed, a little more harshly this time. And like it was predestined, his fingers found themselves wound in her tight curls and he pulled her head back so she was forced to look in his eyes.

"You don't get it," he growled, "do you? You keep lying to yourself but you can't lie to me. You need me."

"You're drunk," Blair said hotly but he could smell the gin on her breath. He was so close to kissing her that he couldn't help it. He was so close to betraying the one person who had really been there for him. But now he was starting to think that there was someone else.

"As drunk as you, sweetheart?" he asked. She turned her head away and he knew it was almost over. Soon they would both get sober and never speak of this encounter again. So he was going to use this for all it was worth before they completely ignored it the next day.

"You're afraid of me," he practically gloated. "You're afraid of the sinfully wonderful things I can do to you. You're afraid you're going to like it. Because I can ride you as hard as you deserve to be ridden. Everyone treats you as glass but no one treats you as the seductress you pretend not to be. I know what you are. And I would be in you until your eyes rolled back."

They didn't kiss. They didn't touch and they didn't scream. But that was the night that everything had changed for the both of them. Maybe she would actually accept him as a contender this time. It wasn't like he was trying for her feelings or anything, but he knew something was different. She was a ticking time bomb and he wanted to be there when she exploded. Exploded all over him.

I've got muscles you've never even dreamed of. I could squeeze you until you popped like warm champagne and you'd beg me to hurt you just a little bit more.

It was the way he stared at her when he thought no one was looking. More importantly, it was the way he stared at her when he thought she wasn't looking. But she knew. She always knew. It was so different from anything else. His eyes were irises of fire, burning and scorching through anything in their path. She could feel him from yards away. It wasn't like the stares she got from the gossipers or underclassmen, or Nate's dull and stoned gaze that she used to think was gentle. It was hard, rough, and passionate.

And he was right. She was afraid. She couldn't help but remember everything that he had said to her. He was right. He was always right. She hated him for it. But she couldn't help but imagine what it would be like. Something so hot that it burned her to core. Part of her wanted just to know what it would be like to be completely consumed by the fires of passion.

And this was all she got from a look. One look. It was nothing in comparison to the way he held her strongly against his own body or how his wicked words invoked something in her that she couldn't even explain. He knew how to get reactions out of her that Nate didn't even know. Chuck knew things about her that he couldn't possibly. But he did. And that was what was frightening of all.

It was all too much. She knew he would never advance on her more than was proper. He would flirt shamelessly with her and stroke her hair but he would never go in to kiss her. He would never violate her like he told her he so wanted to do and the way that she would only admit to herself she had dreams about that made her wake up in a cold sweat. It wasn't supposed to be like this. True love wasn't dangerous and all encompassing. She didn't want true love with Chuck Bass. But it was coming at an astronomically fast pace and she didn't know what to do about it. So she did what she did best. She fought back.

It didn't take much to provoke him into a place where she could hit him with as much force as she needed. He could always challenge her into doing things that weren't right, but she also had talents of her own when it came to Chuck Bass.

He was knocking back his own liquid courage that he didn't even need when she felt the swell of rage make her see red. He could be so blasé it enraged her. How could he act in such a way when she was dying under his gaze every day? And night...

"What is wrong with you?"

"Specify the context," Chuck said dryly, setting down his drink.

She was about to open her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought of him when he cut her off.

"Oh wait," he said lecherously, "don't tell me..."

"Shut up."

It was then that she knew it wasn't her who was the predator but him. He had lured her into this compromising situation. He never would advance her. He would let her come to him so he could taunt her that it was she who was thinking of things that he could never cease dreaming about.

"What exactly is it that you want, Waldorf?" he asked coolly. Always so calm and collected while she was a raging mess. He would pay.

"I think its what you want, Bass," she parried. She liked the uncertainty in his slanting eyes. She remembered the one time this had worked and she was going to use it to her advantage.

"Specify the context," he repeated with exaggerated slowness (and no, she did not find that lazy drawl sexy, thank you very much.)

"What would your best friend think if he knew those... fantasies of yours that are playing in your head?"

"You sure that's not wishful thinking?" he grinned insouciantly.

"Your drunken confessions prove otherwise," she replied.

"That's why they call it that," he said. "Because I was drunk."

"Is that what you tell yourself at night when you're thinking of me?" She felt him tense beneath her. She knew his weakness was just how close she was willing to get to him. She loved the way that his jaw clenched for control. He would never get it with her.

"And what about you and Nate?" Chuck asked with effort. "When he attempts to find that spot that's just right, what are you thinking of? Especially when he fails and you wish that you were with someone else."

This time, she actually did hit him. It wasn't the first time he had received abuse from the little princess, but definitely the first to his undeserving face. He thought his comment was mild this time. He had definitely deserved it the other night.

"You don't know a thing."

Except she wasn't angry. Or at least, angry looking. She had that look in her eye that made him want to drag her close.

"Do you really think that I'm like the rest of them?" she asked quietly. "I'm not some broad you can manipulate. I'm the only one who stands up to you and you don't like how you like it so much."

He closed his eyes against the heavenly scent of her breath. And how much he wanted it.

"I hit you and you can't admit how much you want it because I'm different from them. And you want to give in to temptation."

His eyes lazily drifted open and there was only one thing he could do. Because she was right. She was right and he had to admit it.

"Well I'm not the only one," he taunted. He liked her recoil. She wasn't the only person who could take others by surprise.

"Yes you are," she snapped. "And don't forget it."

It wasn't so bad when he watched her walk away this time. Because this time, he was sure it wouldn't be the last.

And you know why I don't? Because its wrong.

It was the way you summed them up in one word. Wrong. It was the only thing that made sense. Because they certainly couldn't be right, could they? Breaking up with your boyfriend just to find yourself under his best friend only hours later couldn't be right. But something that felt so right and just... good couldn't be wrong. Could it?

It was the only reason that she had resisted him for so long. He had resisted the siren's song she held for him as well, but that didn't mean that he didn't want everything that came with the territory. He wanted her completely submissive under him. But he wanted to be submissive to her as well. Strange how that worked out.

He couldn't think of letting himself go like this. He had never been like this before. Girls were just that. Girls to be used and discarded. But she was different. She wasn't just a girl. In a way, she almost felt like his girl. But that couldn't be right either. Even in the way that she was staring at him. Like the way he used to stare at her when he knew she was watching.

They both had to resist because delving into the unknown was the most frightening thing of all. He wasn't easy and safe. He was dangerous and hard to figure out. But she needed this. She didn't know why and she didn't know how, but she just needed it.

He didn't seem to be complaining.

"This is so wrong."

It was the only coherent thought that formed in her brain and exited her mouth. It made sense. But she didn't want to stop. She didn't think that she had the capacity to stop.

"Do you want me to stop?"
He knew no matter what her answer was, he didn't think it would make much of a difference. His hands had already ventured urgently to her naked flesh and it was just too much. He couldn't stop. The minute she pressed her lips to his, it was all over. For the first time. It was the end of something while it was the start of something. And she understood it as much as he did.

"Don't stop."

It was a command and he knew it. He liked it. In bed, he dominated females. They were at his mercy and he would do what he willed with him. Blair was different. She knew him and she wasn't afraid of him or stricken by his internet celebrity or money. He was just Chuck to her. Her Chuck, if she would let him. And she was beginning to think that she wanted to let herself. She didn't want him to stop ever again.

"Don't stop," she couldn't help but gasp again as she felt the first sensations. She was experiencing something for the first time and she was doing it with him. He wasn't so vulgar or crude as she expected. He was just Chuck. Her Chuck that was treating her differently. Like she was meant to be treated. Even in his vulgar drunkenness, she knew that's what he meant. He was using it in sex terms, but that was just always what he wanted. And she wanted it back.

And as she descended into sinful oblivion, she couldn't help but think how she knew that something that was so wrong was actually just as right.