He couldn't get how betrayed she had looked out of his mind. It had all went down at Cece's funeral. There has to be something about death that makes people go mad, that make them want to feel alive and settle scores. At least he thinks that's what happened for Chuck that day. He isn't that sure anymore. Chuck had been the one to tell her and everyone. But he didn't care about everyone, he cared about her. No he loved her. He's cursing himself for thinking it could have gone a different way. That she could have chosen a different path. But Chuck was always the one delivering the hurt and she always let him. Today it led to her ruin.
He knows he probably shouldn't have sent that video which is what started everything, but he can't bring himself to truly regret it. He hated the pact, hated that Blair lost her baby because she chose to runaway with Chuck and hated that she was sacrificing herself once again to save Chuck's life. Taking that choice away from her should have set her free to be with whomever she wanted. Set her free to be with Chuck if that's what her heart longed for. At least that's why he did it. It had been hard, but can you want anything less than happiness for the person you love?
But she had decided to stay trapped in her marriage, instead of going to Chuck. He still couldn't understand it. He would give anything to be with her, grab any opportunity. But she didn't pick Chuck and it doesn't fit with her grand discourses about her future with Chuck, how they would rule the world together and how much she loved him. She kept talking about it. Loving him. Chuck wouldn't have refused her. She is irresistible.
Once again though, Chuck faced with the possibility that she might have liked him, Dan Humphrey, had lashed out not caring how much he would hurt her in the process. Sometimes, it seemed like Blair was nothing but a possession to him. One he couldn't accept to lose. Like his hotel or his scarf. Dan never told her that though, he couldn't handle seeing her in pain. Chuck on the other hand never seemed to mind. Chuck had displayed the picture of their Valentine's Day kiss for the world to see, effectively ruining Blair's unique shot at a divorce and giving Louis grounds to claim the dowry. He doesn't know what happened after that. Blair had asked to speak to Chuck and he couldn't witness her going back to him again. And kissing him, and giving herself to him.
There were two swift knocks on the door and he heard someone coming in. He wasn't ready to explain himself to anyone. He just wished he could be left alone to deal with the image of Chuck and Blair at the funeral. Those two were « magnetic », what did he expect? His "pure and simple" love didn't stand a chance.
With a great deal of efforts, he turned his head to find out who had come in at this late hour. He could only hope it wasn't Rufus, he couldn't take another lecture about Blair being a married woman. A married woman who loved another guy. He couldn't really blame anyone but himself, he had made his own bed.
It was her though. She looked so fragile and a rush of guilt overcame him. He couldn't bear being one of the reasons why she had lost everything today. He would give her everything, but he knew that was not what she wanted. She wanted to be powerful and not owe anything to anybody. She wanted to be loved and respected for who she really was. Chuck never seemed to understand that. He didn't deserve her, really... He moved to stand up without breaking eye contact.
She had already started moving her lips and the faintest sound was coming out of them. Watching them move was already a glorious spectacle in and of itself but he knew he had to snap out of it and listen
« I know why you did it. It's the reason behind everything you do and it makes me love you so much. I told Chuck he didn't have my heart anymore, I realized it belonged to someone else. Someone who makes me happy and treats me like an equal ».
And the rush it gave him was something similar to jumping in the emptiness and letting it engulf you. Everything but her was spinning and she was the only thing that he could see. The only thing that slowed it down. All the shame and guilt disappeared and were replaced by the loud beating of his heart. He couldn't hear anything; he was repeating what she had said like a mantra, trying desperately to make sense of it. To reconcile it with years of hazing, dismissive remarks and disgusted stares. About him being a toad and how the only thing lamer than dating him was mourning him. Carried by the feeling, he crashed his lips onto hers.
She pushed him back and against the wall, like she had three weeks ago and it got to him as much as it had then. Except this time she pressed herself against him, looked up and inserted her tongue in his mouth without asking permission as if it was her due. She was right. Her hot little tongue he had dreamed of so often.
She was already putting her hands under his shirt on his skin with urgency and he was just as anxious to feel her nakedness against his. He discarded his shirt and he saw the desire in her eyes. In her beautiful dark eyes. She was the living portrait of lust. Something about her was so wicked. He wanted her to do to him whatever it is that she did to boys that made them go mad. She discarded her shoes, looked back at him once wickedly and went straight for his bedroom. He found her there on his bed, where he liked to think that she belonged.
She was unbuttoning her blouse at an agonizingly slow pace, looking at him, challenging him to take over and claim her. And so he did, he replaced her fingers with his and tore the blouse from her. She wore LaPerlas probably, not that he knew the difference. It was hideous anyway since it concealed her. Everything she ever wore was hideous he decided after he took her bra off. He would've elaborated more if he didn't feel her small hands working his zipper. It also reminded him how painfully hard he was. He hadn't had sex in more than a year. Well not for real anyways. He had had a lot of imaginary sex with the girl currently writhing under him and somehow it had always trumped doing it for real with others. But none of his fantasies came close to the feeling of her.
He pulled himself on top of her, parting her legs and hiking up her skirt. Of course she was wearing those garters she sported all the time. Regular everyday underwear for her and the fact that he knew that, made him even harder, if possible. She didn't wear panties though. She went commando, it's like she had been in his dreams and had decided to act them out. But the sight of her exposed and welcoming pussy completely waxed and smooth was more than he could handle and he froze. For what seemed like hours. That never happened in his dreams.
She pushed him onto his back pulled his boxers down and positioned herself above his rock hard length.
« It is not nice to tease Dan, how would you like it if I did it to you? ».
Acting on the threat she let his glans penetrate her only to withdraw the promise immediately. Instinctively, he tried to push her back down but she wouldn't have it. She was now sliding her incredibly wet pussy in fowards motion effectively soaking his cock. Her boobs shaking under the motion. He brought his two hands to her tits and brought his mouth up to swallow them and bite the nipples. Pulling back, he saw a delicious mixture of shock and pleasure register on her face.
He used her confusion to come back on top in a matter of seconds. He had always anticipated that sex with her would be a struggle for power. He took her hand and placed it on his cock giving her the choice. She felt her squeeze him and he closed his eyes because looking at her would have made him explode. She guided him to her entrance and he plunged his length into her. Penetrating her. Being inside of her. Inside. He was wishing that all those who had read his book could feel how heavenly being there really was. Although thinking about it, no he didn't. Treasures like that can't be shared.
She was beautiful. He had dated pretty girls, hot ones, whose names he couldn't really remember right now. But no one could compare to the brunette vixen under him. Her luxurious locks, her deep fiery defiant eyes, her luscious sensual lips, her petite silhouette, her hard tits, her enticing pussy and her beautiful beautiful cunt.
She was the sexiest woman he had ever laid eyes on and he was inside of her. Right. He started moving eliciting a deep and he assumed unwilling moan from her smooth pale throat. She threw her head back and brought her arms above her head. Asking to be taken.
He grabbed her wrists and held them there firmly. He saw the fire in her eyes at being restrained like that. It was all over her face that Blair Waldorf wasn't controlled by anyone. Or so she thought. He grabbed her thigh and brought it up to his shoulder and let it rest there creating a deeper angle for him to push further inside of her.
And he did. He needed to. There was nothing more important than to move in her and let his dick know the glory of making regal, godly Blair Waldorf scream.
Regaining control, she turned them over again and he smiled at her unrestrained unashamed sexual appetite. On top of him, looking down on him, as her birth right allowed her he assumed, she started a circular sexual dance with her hips that was nothing that her rank would have approved, especially not on him. They both knew that and unfortunately for his self-control, it made it ever even more pleasurable. He placed his hands on her tiny waist to accompany the delicious movements and he felt her locks tickle his fingers. He ran his hands across her stomach, her perfect belly button and cupped her tits. She looked so greedy to feel more of him, so hungry for him. It was hard to handle and the intense frictions she was creating weren't helping.
« How do you like to be fucked Blair ? »
He saw her smirk. He knew she had come out to play.
« You couldn't handle it… »
« Say my name, say you need me » he pleaded
« I don't need anyone »
He stood up and placed her on his desk, where he had written so many stories about her, but he didn't stop fucking her. This was Blair, this was how she protected herself. Still she had nothing to fear with him, he needed her to know.
« Say it » he said although he kept moving
« No, I don't need anyone, least of all humptydumpty, a brooklynite pauper amongst others. »
She was like a rose taking on the world with three tiny paws and no one had ever seen past it and no one had ever discovered the treasures of warmth and love she harboured.
« Really? You won't mind if I stop then? »
She cried out in frustration and it excited him further to see how affected she was. He would give it to her no matter what, but he wanted her to admit she knew he would treat her like the most precious thing on earth.
« I want you Daniel Humphrey, brooklynite nobody to fuck me, princess Blair Waldorf. Just fuck my brains out... Please » That last word had been barely audible but he knew better.
He grinned and started his back and forth again
« Does that make me escort material your highness? »
She nodded and that was all he needed.
He withdrew from her for a second and he knew that the loss had hurt them both. He put her on the floor, the bed was too far, kneeled before her and hooked her legs behind him. He re-entered her and increased the pace. He brought his hand to her clit and started massaging it, knowing it would send her over the edge. He didn't notice her small hand reach for his balls until she was massaging them gently. He grunted at the jolt of pleasure it sent through him. Her eyes were closed.
« Look at me fuck you Blair »
She opened her eyes and plunged her stare into his as he moved senselessly inside of her knowing she was aching there deep inside. Watching her contort with pleasure and moving against him was the most incredible thing he ever experienced.
She was delirious too.
"Fuck me Dan. Harder. I want you to take all of me. It's all yours. Fuck me my love"
Suddenly, she screamed and shivered as her eyes rolled up. Her inner walls contracted around him sending him into ecstasy.
He stayed there inside of her trying to engrave the image of her climaxing in his brain forever. He knew he would need it whenever Chuck was around and she would bless him with a look or a word. He brought her up to him, breathed her in, his sweat mixing with hers and they stayed like that for what felt like seconds but he knew were hours.
Suddenly she was moving her hips again and leaving a trail of hot kisses on his neck. He was hard almost immediately but before getting lost in her once again, he murmured
« It's you, it's only you. »
She didn't reply but she looked at him and sometimes silence is louder than words.
