On the Second Day…

Thursday. Back to work. At least they were afforded a lazy morning together. Chuck happily used the time to tick one orgasm off his list. He couldn't help himself, he loved showering with Blair and he simply couldn't keep his hands to himself. The moment his hands slipped between her legs, he knew he was a lost cause. Blair must have known she was too, for she didn't restrain her desire. Within minutes he had her screaming and coming into his hands.

That is how you start the day.

Which worked for Chuck, because the end of the year workload was a mix of mind numbness, an endless task list of loose ends, and taking care of things that had fallen to the wayside. Thoughts of his shower that morning, and his plans for Blair's second orgasm, were the only things that kept him happy as the hours stubbornly dragged by.

When Blair slid into his limo to head to dinner, it was all Chuck could manage not to groan. She couldn't know, yet somehow, on some level, she did. The silky creation she wore was champagne colored. Are you sure? and slipping those thin little straps from her shoulder burned in his mind. Dinner just became ten times longer.

"Do you like my dress tonight?" She scooted a little closer to him.

"That, is a trick question. It does mean, however, that I know what you'll be having for dessert."

He turned to his wife and gave her a sweet kiss, just long enough to turn it from sweet to heated. Blair kept close when the kiss finally broke, her eyes dark as she stared up at him. The passion in her voice was rough and light, "Are you sure?"

Chuck glared back at her, his breathing becoming increasing labored at her taunt hung between them. For fucks sake, this was suppose to happen after dinner.

Lucky for him, the limo had arrived at the restaurant with an abrupt stop. Blair gave him her very best Queen B smile before kissing him so very softly. Then she slipped away from him to exit the car. It was one of those rare moments where Chuck desperately wished he was once again his 18 year-old self. Because instead of watching her gorgeous ass leaving his limo, it would be bouncing in his lap right now. This was already the worst dinner ever and it hadn't even started yet.

Blair did lighten up her torture during the meal. That's not to say her hand didn't creep under the table multiple times, but she did refrain from tormenting him too much. This meal was part social, part business. Which meant it required more attention than if it had been one or the other. And yet, it highlighted the complexity of loving his wife perfectly. He watched her smile and laugh and talk, enjoyed her furtive glances, all pulling his love to the foreground over his lust. At least until she'd put her hand on his thigh again. If that's what you'd call the particular placement of her hand.

Dinner went well and as they began to depart, it was a strenuous exercise of Chuck's manner to remain polite up to the very end. The limo door couldn't close fast enough behind him.

In the darkened space, his voice dropped to a growl, "Get over here."

Blair's mouth found his and he pulled her into his lap, feverishly pushing her dress up to have her straddle him. Her kisses were a little too tame, too gentle, considering, still clothed, he was thrusting up against her. "Blair."

"I want to savor my dessert." Her mouth returned to him by sucking on his lower lip.

His reply was to hold her tight to him and kiss her roughly. He began to kiss down her neck as he pulled the top of her dress out of the way.

"After this morning," his mouth kissed down the valley between her breasts.

"And wearing this dress," one nipple was pulled into his mouth, taking his time to suck and lave his tongue against it.

"And that dinner," he repeated his ministrations on the neglected side.

"The only savoring I can promise is your orgasm," he pulled his pants open, "and the massive load you'll draw out of me."

His sexual diatribe complete, he thrust up into her, the stupid scrap of an excuse for underwear hardly any sort of barrier to his lust. He watched as her mouth fell open in a soundless gasp and a smile began to curl at the corners of her sweet mouth. His lust buried inside of her, it was his heart watching her now. His gaze followed his hands over her full breasts, up, up, to cradle her face.

"It's still as surreal as the very first time." He didn't murmur or whisper these words. Chuck spoke them, his voice strong, as he stared into her eyes.

"Charles Bass," her voice was lightly scolding, "I am not a dream. Not six years ago, and certainly not today."

She leaned down and kissed him. Hard. Her fingers mussed his hair before her nails scratched his neck, then curling in his dress shirt, digging into muscle, shouting this is real. As though the intense pace she was riding him at would allow him to forget.

He groaned. "I have the scars to prove it."

"We both do," she panted.

At that remembrance, a shower of kisses began amongst the rocking and the panting. Kisses not meant to heal the scars, both real and imagined, but to honor them; honor those memories and the road they walked that brought them here. That reality, that beauty, gave him a sense of calm though he stood on the precipice of physical desire. Blair cried out, a sweet sound carried on a puff of warm air to disperse against his ear while she held him tight through her orgasm. Bliss. In the breath of a moment before he came, Chuck had one blissful thought. This child was going to be born from so much love.

Chuck carried Blair upstairs. He just wanted to keep her close and he knew she had been tired before they left for dinner.

"You're coddling me," she mumbled from her spot snuggled against his chest.

"You could be carrying our child."

"Oh, is that what this is all about?"

He dropped a kiss on the crown of her head. "As if I need an excuse?"

She humphed at him. "Besides, Henry will be quite strong and healthy, if his parents are anything to go by."

"Henry? Is there something you're not telling me?" Chuck felt she was playing, but that didn't stop the anxious excitement grasping him.

"Nothing except that I'm an excellent listener." Blair yawned.

Chuck relaxed, he knew she wouldn't spring such news on him like that. They had only just begun trying anyway, it was too soon to know anything. But he also couldn't remember the discussion she referenced. "When had I told you that?"

"One very drunken night at The Empire, when Nate declared his son would be named Abercrombie and Serena wanted twins name Anastasia and Elise. I think they were both absolutely full of it, but I loved the idea of your little Henry."

They had arrived at their bedroom and he let Blair down to shed her clothing. He remained speechless. This life really did feel like a dream some days. Tonight was without question one of those times. He trailed his wife to their bed, a happy shadow. As the light clicked off, he curled around her, thanking her with three words, eight letters.

AN: Day two, done! That came out way mushier than I expected, lol. Don't get too comfy, it'll be a sweet story, but you know me, I can't write 100% mush. To me, Chuck and Blair will always have their deviant streak :) So this story is likely to have an interesting mix of chapter in the end. I know FFnet's been funky, holiday season aside, but please do try to review when you get a chance. It's nice to know someone other than me and Sophia are reading this xoxo