The throbbing in her head matched the clicking of her heels as she crossed the marble floor of the foyer in her penthouse apartment. Everything inside her screamed out with fatigue and tension and a hundred little worries that had her bound up so tight she felt like she was about to explode.
It had been one hell of a day, starting with oversleeping and ending in having to fire one of her employees. Most people wouldn't believe it, but Blair Waldorf really didn't relish doing things like that. This employee had left her no choice. Since taking over her mother's company, she'd come to discover that firing people was her least favorite task.
She sat her briefcase and bag down on the dining room table and took a minute to call out to the empty apartment. She got no response and that caused her spirits to plunge even further. She hated coming home to an empty apartment.
With a sigh brimming with dejection and exhaustion, she started sluggishly up the staircase, practically dragging her heels as she went. Halfway up, she paused and slipped the shoes off her aching feet before continuing.
At the top she took a moment to contemplate her destination. She could make a left towards a nice, long, hot bath or a right into a nice comfortable bed with Egyptian cotton sheets that had a higher thread count that she could count to and a down comforter that would feel perfect wrapped around her.
There was a chill in the air, brought on, no doubt, by the rain that was currently splattering against the huge windows at the end of the hall. It was an early spring storm moving in. The temperature had dropped dramatically since she'd left her penthouse that morning and the dress she was wearing was absolutely not suited for the colder weather, nor for the rain.
It was unanimous. Nothing had gone right for her all day. The drenching as she made a run for her car had just been the topping on the cake. Thankfully the doorman at the apartment had been more on his toes than the one at her company and he had met her with an umbrella at the car to keep her from getting wet as she made her way inside.
That didn't make her dress or hair any drier. That damage had already been done.
She eyed the two doors, both standing slightly opening, both beckoning her with their own rewards. And honestly she was just too tired to make any more decisions.
A flutter of the curtain in the bedroom made the choice for her and she turned towards it and took a tentative step inside the room.
She called out again and still there was no reply. Suddenly, a touch of fear was working to push back the fatigue that plagued her. She knew she saw the curtain move. It hadn't been her imagination. The window was closed just as it should be, but she was certain of what she saw.
Still standing in the doorway, she made a cautious sweep on the room's interior. Nothing appeared out of place. Nothing seemed wrong. She gingerly took another step inside, then another.
The second she was in the room the door swung closed behind her and she heard the lock click into place. Then, before she had a chance to scream or even turn around, there was a hand covering her mouth and another holding her tightly across the waist. Her assailant had managed to use his upper arms to clamp her shoulders tightly down leaving her no room to wiggle.
The alarm rose inside her so quickly it nearly took her breath away especially when the hand at her waist began to climb up her body until the thumb was brushing against the under side of her breast.
She gasped and tried to bite at the hand across her mouth, but the attacker was too quick and managed to move his fingers just in time without taking his hand away from her lips.
A hard, warm body pressed into her back and there was something so familiar about it, but she couldn't managed to think clearly enough to make sense of that. All she could think about was getting away, escaping to find a safe place to call for help.
"Ssh," a soft, raspy voice whispered over her earlobe, and there was the familiarity again, but she was still too panicked to grab hold of it.
The attacker gathered her into him and in the next moment she was spun around and her cheek was pressed against the wall behind the door. The body behind her pressed in even closer but trapped like she was, it allowed the hand holding her waist even more freedom to roam. It started out making a trail up the center of her chest. It paused to brushed over her breast. Then it moved to the zipper at the back of the navy blue sheath dress.
She tried once again to bite the hand on her mouth, screamed a muffled "NO!" as loudly as she could and began to struggle all at the same time.
But the person holding her was good, certainly stronger than her and she felt a desperate sense of helplessness as she realized her chances of escaping were slim.
Once the zipper at her back was lowered, the hand began to peel the wet garment off her shoulders. It slid down her body slowly as if the person it belonged to was taking the time to enjoy the show and that only served to infuriate her further and she renewed her struggle, but it was useless as the assailant just strengthen his hold on her and pressed her more firmly into the wall. The dress finally fell to the floor in a pool of material at her feet.
The roaming hand was back now. It's fingers dragged up her leg, caressing her through the material of her hose until they reached the band at the top. A single digit slipped under the material and run along the top of the hose. The feel of the tab of her garter unsnapping caused her to gasp again. It was quickly followed by the unsnapping of the other tab and another whimper escaped her lips.
Now the fingers were playing with the closure of her bra, a black, lacy thing that matched the garter and was really all but pointless as a means of defense. The roving hand made quick, short work of it and she couldn't help but be a little impressed that the stranger was managing all this with the one hand free to work with. The other was still covering her mouth to keep her from screaming.
When that hand came up to cup her now bare breast she began to fight once again.
This time she managed to jab an elbow backwards. It landed somewhere soft and she was rewarded by the sound of a grunt of pain. The hand at her mouth fell away for a moment and she was just about to spin around and push the body off of her when she spotted something on the back of the chair at her vanity that made her abruptly stop her attempt to get away.
A gray pinstriped suit jacket, neatly folded over the back of the chair and a black leather briefcase carefully stashed beside it. In the next moment she registered the presence of a pair of gray Calvin Klein wing tips sitting beside the briefcase.
Now she understood.
She'd been so tired when she stepped into the room. Now there was a game afoot and she felt a new surge of energy flow through her that she wouldn't have believed she was capable of. Her dark, endless day suddenly seemed much brighter and much, much more interesting.
Sensing her change in demeanor and knowing his ruse was up, he spun her towards him and quickly found her lips with his own.
The moment he kissed her, she knew she was right and what little doubt she still held fell away as she relaxed into his solid chest.
"I should have put my things away. That's what gave me away, right?" Chuck asked with a quirky smile when he finally pulled away and let her breath.
She nodded as she struggled to catch her breath. "But we can pretend I didn't see them, if you want."
He chuckled as he smoothed a hand through her wet hair. "What happened to you? Did you go playing in the rain without me?"
"Now what fun would that be?" she teased as her hand came up to play with the buttons of his gray and white striped shirt. She left them still secured when she moved up to wrap her fingers around the purple stripped tie at his throat. Her hand circled the tie and pulled it tight. "Now who's in control?" she sing-songed at him as she tightened her fist further still.
His eyes narrowed to dark, dangerous slits and it sent a chill straight through her. This was how she loved him the most, untamed, wild, out-of-control. She loved to see him getting carried away by the enormousness of passion he tried to keep caged inside him.
And somehow just from the look on his face, she knew, he'd had a bad day, too. This was Chuck's release, his moment to let go of all the things happening outside the safety of their apartment. He needed this, just like she did, maybe even more so. He needed to let off some steam. She needed to not be in control. Once again, they were a perfect pair.
His hand covered hers and pulled it away from the tie. But he didn't let it go. Instead, he clutched it tighter and shoved it a little roughly against the wall by her head. The other hand came up and did the same with her free hand, just as his body moved in closer.
Again, she was trapped. But there was no fear this time. Even as she stared into the face that some shrank away from in terror, the beast in his full glory baring down on her with nostrils flared and brow furrowed, she wasn't afraid of him. She could never be afraid of him.
His lips seized hers in a searing, tumultuous kiss that set a trail of fire blazing through her. He rocked his hips into her, grinding himself her hip insistently. His hands were like bands of steel as they held hers firmly in place.
There were sounds issuing from her opened lips as his tongued continued to plunder her mouth and he swallowed them all, taking them into himself and turning them into small grunts and groans of his own. She had determined long, long ago that his husky, gravelly voice making noises like that was what sex should sound like. It was a voice breed for this purpose and hearing him never failed to send her teetered on the edge of her control.
She could not believe how much he could still turn her on, still make her feel like it did the first time with him in the back of his limo. Nothing she had ever or would ever experience compared to sex with the man that was currently tugging her earlobe between his teeth. There wasn't a trick he didn't know, a mark he didn't hit. He was perfection, just like he always was. They may have had their ups and downs in the past, but this was never a down, had never been part of a down. Despite everything that was happening outside these bedroom walls, in here, he was perfect.
So when he gathered her wrists together in one hand while jerking his tie off with the other and still keeping his lips firmly attached to hers, she felt like the luckiest woman in the world, just like she always did when she was in his arms. Hard and demanding or soft and caressing, it didn't mattered.
He quickly wrapped the tie around her wrists and leaned in close to her ear, "Keep them there," he ground out between his teeth and she didn't even consider not complying.
Especially since, both of his hands were now making a long, slow journey down her arms. He stopped at her elbows and took a moment to suck at the sensitive skin there for a moment before moving his hands down again. This time he paused to run his fingers along her shoulder, pushing her hair out of the way in the process. His lips caught up quickly and he nipped at the curve of her throat, then at the base of her throat, then across the curve of both shoulders. When he found the center of her chest again, he stopped there and let his hands enjoy the feel of her breasts cupped in his palms. While he was suckle at the valley between her breasts, he was using his thumb to brush over her nipples, rubbing them softly to their harden nubs like he was coaxing a flower to bloom.
She shivered and bucked against him when his lips encompassed first one bud then the other and his tongue swirled around them expertly.
His hands were on her hips now, holding her tightly even as his fingers stroked her heated skin. His mouth left her breasts, continuing on down the center of her chest. She giggled out loud as his tongue flicked across her navel. But the laughter was soon gone when he suddenly stood back up and found her lips again.
His hands were on her thighs, clutching at them so fitfully his fingers were pressing into her skin.
He let go of her mouth and found her eyes with his. She knew what the look meant, knew what he wanted. She laced her still tied hands around his neck and she was immediately off her feet with her legs wrapped firmly around his waist.
He stepped them to the bed and deposited her in the middle before making a move to pull away from her. She stopped him, pulling him back with a little whimper of protest.
He stopped trying to pull away and began kissing her again and she sighed in delight as she sank into the feel of it.
After finding her breasts once again and devoted a good amount of time to each, he pulled away again, this time taking his leave without giving her a chance to protest.
He was gone only a moment, long enough to divest himself of the rest of his clothing, before he was with her again, towering over her, in fact, baring down on her with impatience and overwhelming lust all over his face.
She watched gleefully as he closed his eyes and very, very slowly slide into her. She saw his jaw clinch as he sheathed himself inside her to the hilt and then held there for a handful of heartbeats. He told her once that it was his favorite part of sex with her, sinking into her for the very first time. He liked to savory it, draw it out as long as possible.
And he did that, staying utterly still while being completely encased in her. That was until her muscles gave a ripple up the entire length of him. Then he shivered and pulled away only to plunge back in with a force that made her teeth rattle. And that was the pace he set, slow and determined, yet powerful and demanding at the same time. Every thrust of his hips shook her entire body. Every move he made caused her to yell out in blissful rapture.
His eyes held hers, making her crazy with the lust she found there. He made her crazy, the need in him, the pure, unadulterated, greedy, consuming carnality.
She struggled against the tie still binding her wrists. She needed to feel him, feel the power of the muscles in his shoulders as he moved above her, the strength of his chest as it pumped air into his lungs in gasps and heaves punctuated with grunts and groans of pleasure, the might of his hips as they drilled into her depths.
Finally she pulled free and her hands found his hair first, plunging into the dark, silkiness of it and reveling in the way it caressed her fingers. Then she moved to his shoulders and her nails bit into his flesh, leaving a trail of slashes that marked him as hers.
He threw his head back and hissed at the pain but didn't stop the motion of his body. In fact, the sharpness of the sting only served to egg him on and he redoubled his drive.
Her legs were secured around his waist. He was unhinged now, thrusting with a speed and force she couldn't hope to keep up with.
Then, all at once, he stopped, holding completely still while buried as far inside her as he could manage. His gaze still held hers, the heat from it scorching her to the depths of her soul. In the next instant, he gathered her to him and flipped them, managing the move without dislodging himself.
It was a motion perfected by practice and instead of being jealous of all the women she knew came before her, she was grateful to them. With the experience came the skills that she relished. Besides, it didn't matter how many he'd shared his bed with, she was the only one that shared his soul. He was hers, had been since the moment they first touched like this. It was a fact that she took great comfort in, especially because in that instant she had become his as well.
They belonged to each other. Each hurt, each anguish they shared or caused each other only strengthened that bond. They were symbiotic now, both giving and taking from the other in a way nothing could ever break apart again.
He settled her over him and braced his legs on the bed, using the leverage to drive his hips up and shake her entire being with every movement. She leaned forward, grasping hold of the sturdy mahogany headboard of the bed and using it as leverage as well. It was, again, a push and pull, a give and take, every thrust met and matched, every groan and gasp returned and echoed.
He raised his head up and captured one of her breast between his lips and she felt the heat pool in her as he began to suckle in earnest. His hands steadied her as they dug into her hips.
There was no rhyme or reason to their rhythm now. Now it was a fight to the finish, a contest to see who would break first.
She lost when he moved one of his hands across her hip and down to her center to find the bundle of nerves hidden there. It was playing dirty, but then again, he was Chuck Bass, rules didn't apply to him.
She took her victory in the fact that he came crashing down with her an instant later, yelling her name to the ceiling as he gave himself over to his passion.
She lay crumpled over his chest, a tangled mass of useless limbs, exhausted beyond reason. Her still damp hair splayed over his shoulder and arm as her spent body rose and fell with the heaving of his chest as he tried to drag air into his lungs. His heartbeat was wild and erratic against her cheek and she let herself be lulled by the sound vibrating in her ear.
When she was able, she rallied enough strength to slid off of him, but his arms only let her go so far and she settled with her leg draped over one of his and her head nestled in the croak of his shoulder.
Her red-tipped nail trailed through the hair covering his chest and she sighed in the delightful intoxication that being with him always brought her.
She had had her own share of other men in her life, but none of them could ever bring about the feelings in her that he could.
A rattled of thunder in the distance broke the lazy silence between them and he shifted, found her lips and kissed her languidly. "I missed you today," he said with a smile when he finally broke away.
She chuckled lightly and stretched. "I missed you, too. I had a horrible day."
He gave a lethargic yawn before kissing her again. "Me, too. But you first, tell me all about your horrible day."
She shook her head. "It doesn't matter now. I can't even remember why it was bad anymore."
His arm tightened where it laid indolently across her waist. "Neither can I."