Never was there a story of more strife
Than this of Queen B and her night-life knight.
xoxo
---
A soft suede purse brushed against the calves attached to dainty feet showcasing matching pumps as they clicked leisurely down the tiled hallway outside Chuck Bass's suite. Blair Waldorf trailed her finger tips over the smooth wall paper with her eyes closed and a small smile on her lips.
What want did to a girl like her was so frightening she was even scaring herself.
Blair stopped just in front of the door, knowing he was listening for her steps. She rang the bell and brushed back a stray lock of chocolate brown hair.
"Chuck," Blair greeted the dark-haired man that opened the door. He was wearing dark slacks and a linen button down shirt with a crumpled collar and a loose tie. Dashing.
She stepped over the threshold smoothly, dropping her bag into the glossy table at the door with a swish of her skirt.
"Maybe you could learn some tact for the next time you want to see me. Next time I won't respond to a 'make me cum. now' text. You should consider that a promise."
"It got you here, didn't it?" he smirked, pressing her against the door. With his hands on either side of her head, he crushed his lips against hers, feeling her breath catch and her hands run up his chest. Just a simple touch made his muscles jump under the fabric. He felt her smile against his lips.
"It's vulgar and not-at-all becoming, Bass."
He slid an arm around her small waist and pulled her to him roughly, latching his mouth to her neck and sucking. She whimpered.
"And yet, I think the fact that you know that if you show up, you'll be coming makes you wet. Shall we test that theory?"
Pressing her back against the door, his lips descended on hers once more, smudging her red lipstick. Her arms immediately wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to her already searing skin. His hands rested on her hips, fingering the fabric of her skirt and rubbing it between his fingers. Fine quality silk; only the best for Blair, he chuckled. That had to say something about him.
"What?" she breathed in his ear, sending shivers up his spine and bringing him back to the present moment.
"Nothing," his fingers pushed under the hem of her shirt, brushing over the soft skin of her hips, raising the hair on the back of her neck. The fingers kept going, spiralling up her back and curling slowly around to her front, stopping briefly at her belly button. Her nipples responded like the rest of her skin and a strangled groan slipped over her lips.
She was tugging on his tie, pulling it from his neck. She dropped it started fumbling with the buttons on his shirt as his breath grated in her ear. As soon as the first few inches of his chest were exposed, Blair pressed her lips to his skin, searing him with her tongue. In response, his hands travelled up her flat stomach and his fingers pushed under the lace of her bra, the pads of his thumbs making her tilt her head back and moan at the ceiling.
Buttons flew in all directions and the shirt was ripped open by Blair, quickly exposing the rest of Chuck's upper body. It slid off his shoulders and Blair launched herself at him, her arms locking around his neck and her lips pressed to his again. She felt cool air on her lower back and lifted her arms, barely breaking contact with Chuck to let him pull the blouse over her head. Both began the short tip to Chuck's bed; Blair's ragged breathing mixed with his as she lightly scratched her nails down his torso, stopping at his belt.
Her lips slid over his shoulder and along his jaw line as she cupped him through his pants and squeezed a hiss out of him.
"Waldorf," he grunted.
"Bass." The belt was gone. He groaned as his calves bumped the foot of his bed and her fingers popped the button, letting his pants drop. She pushed him roughly so he fell back on the cover with a whoosh and a wave of Chuck assaulted her nostrils, forced from the blanket. Blair felt herself grow a little wetter with anticipation. She pried her Jimmy Choos off, ignoring the ankle strap and dropping them hastily.
Climbing on to the bed, Blair straddled Chuck with one knee on either side of him. A familiar ache was settling in for a long ride between her thighs, making her cheeks flush.
His palm ghosted up her thigh and under her skirt quickly, molding to the curve of her backside and pulling her down onto him. Both moaned as contact was made, hard meeting soft. Blair rubbed against Chuck, making his breath catch and she watched as his Adam's apple wavered in his throat with every movement.
"Blair," Chuck growled.
"Why do you text me?" She asked, building a slow rhythm of tiny circles with her hips.
"What-" pant- "do you mean?" Chuck's hips met Blair's and he hissed again.
"I mean," She leaned down and brushed her lips over the shell of Chuck's ear, tugging with her teeth, "Why do you text me?" Her hair fell loose around him, tickling his neck and his cheeks and his forehead and surrounding him in the scent of her light floral perfume, her delicate shampoo and the smell of her. As she attacked his neck with her mouth, he ground out an answer.
"Because I want you."
"Why else?" Grind.
"Uhn," he raised his hips to meet hers again. "Because you're the only one who does it for me."
"And why is that, Bass? Be a good boy and tell me what I need to hear." Blair pushed him deeper into the luxurious covers, feeling the fibres between her fingers and under her nails. She was hanging over him now, watching as he battled his body to keep attentive and answer the question. She watched his eyes for sincerity.
"Because you're hot, Waldorf. Because you do it so well."
"Do what so well?" She looked slightly confused, but soon her eyes left his and flew to the ceiling as the crease of his boxers rubbed her hottest spot and she whispered his name.
"That. Say my name. Just right. Goes right to my-"
"I hope your next word is 'ego'. Why else?"
He smirked, eyes glittering and dark.
"Why do you want me to say it, Blair?" Chuck pulled her down and kissed her soundly. "This isn't enough?" He ran his tongue along her lip and she shuddered violently, losing her pace and running her fingers in the hair at the back of his neck, holding him there.
"Basstard."
Catching her off guard, he rolled them over, shocking Blair's skin with the chill of the blanket and grinding against her hard. She gasped needily and raked at his back with her manicured nails, leaving red welts behind.
"If it's so important, why don't you say it?" Chuck countered, getting himself out of a corner.
"I asked you first," Blair squeezed out before wrapping her legs around him.
"Does it really matter, if that's what it takes to get your rocks off?" He pulled his hips back and made its way up her thigh and scratched at the line of her panties, feeling her excitement.
"I," her eyes snapped open at glared up at him belligerently, "don't have rocks."
Chuck kissed up her chest and grazed her throat with his teeth.
"I will if you will first," he whispered languidly as he tickled her inner thigh softly, making her mewl. "You know you want to say it, just so I stop this and give you what you really want."
"No. You'll cave first. I last longer than you do. You're like a fourteen year old boy sometimes," Blair grinned up at him.
Immediately, she regretted saying anything because his fingers were inside her underwear, searching out her little nub that was screaming to be touched. Her back bowed of the bed, but Chuck held her down with his weight.
"Say it."
"You say it," she whispered with venom.
"Say it, Waldorf." Blair's breathing came in large huffs and it froze in her throat as Chuck pushed up her bra and pinched an already pert nipple. She made him so hot when she was like this; competitive, passionate and writhing under him, almost begging for it.
"No," she growled after forcing herself to breath, "I'm not caving first."
Chuck growled, finding she was being just as stubborn as he was about this.
"Well," he pushed a digit inside her, curling his finger torturously. "I'm not either."
Her hips met with his hand and a growl ripped from her throat in determination as she shoved him off her.
Chuck smirked at her rumpled skirt, glistening upper thighs, heaving chest, and mussed hair. It was a special sight only he ever saw and he treasured it immensely.
"I'll make you say it first."
"You can try, B. But I guarantee you'll crack."
"Don't bet on it."
"Let's," Chuck smirked. "You crack first, you do whatever I want. No boundaries."
Blair cringed, red in the cheeks and still trying to get her breathing under control. Tugging down her skirt and reaching for her shirt, she ignored Chuck's obvious ogling of her chest and pushed her ache out of her mind so she could think. That was proving to be difficult.
"Fine. I win and you do whatever I say. I get what I want."
Chuck held out his hand for her to shake. She put her palm in his confidently, and he smirked.
"Agreed."
"Agreed."
Quickly, Chuck yanked her arm, sending her slamming into his chest, and his lips found her cleavage again.
"No!" Blair pushed him away at the forehead and smacked him across the cheek. His flesh stung hotly and he growled, going for her.
But she was too quick. She was of the bed, shirt over her head and grabbing her heels before he reached the spot where she was kneeling just a second ago. He could still feel the heat from her skin there.
He watched her stomp to the door and snatch up her bag.
Blair let the door snap shut behind her as she whipped out, determined to win, and Chuck smirked, knowing he would.
Surveying his room and his crotch, he lifted himself up and padded to the bathroom to take care of business. He could still smell her on his fingers.
---
One bad thing about making a deal with the devil is he always comes. To collect, that is. Xoxo