Someone blessed me with the title of smut master which I loved so I'm posting the last chapter of this story! Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I love you all!


He can't have sex anymore. With anyone. He's broken. His grip tightens on his glass of single malt (the third one). He doesn't know what happened to him. He could guess, but he feels more comfortable avoiding the cause of his current predicament. Avoidance has never been his style, but right now honesty is a dangerous territory.

And the symptoms remain; he has been needing release lately. Badly. So he tried. But they're all way too blonde, way too stupid. And their skin isn't soft and their hair doesn't smell like paradise. Their juices are dry, their eyes are empty.

He doesn't even realize when she comes in.

Although he feels like he's been waiting months for her victorious return. Months for her to claim what he confusedly senses is rightfully hers. He's been checking his phone obsessively only to find the insulting "no messages" glaring back at him, he's been showing up at events he can't stomach and where she usually spends her life, he's been lurking around the steps of the Met like a creep, if only to catch a glimpse of her, or a hint of her scent. To no avail.

And the first thing he hears piercing the heat of this month of August is her plea to take her away. He thought that was what their loft was for, but it's not enough anymore. Nothing can distract her from the fact that she loses the game all the time. Probably because he left Serena a month ago. It wasn't only Serena's fault, not entirely. If he's truthful, they grew apart not only because she thrived under the attention of others, but also because he sought solace with a feisty brunette rather than trying to figure Serena out.

But Blair would have kept on losing the game. No matter what. Chuck never needed the comparison to pale.

He doesn't question, he grabs his dad's car keys and they're out the door. It's what he does now. Her bidding. It frustrates him to feel like there is nothing he would rather do than to be with her and comfort her. Anywhere. He had always thought love was something that was built along the tormented road of a relationship. Not that it can be born from afar and be completely selfless. Love. He brushes it off. It's not about him right now. They start to drive. He's not sure where to. Driving and looking at her are the only two things he can focus on. She's dark and grimly. As they put distance between them and the city though, it's like a weight is lifted off her chest, she smiles more, she lectures him on the lack of navigation system in the car

"oh no wait it's me"

She says that if she shoved her feet through the floor, she could run faster. He says she's very welcome to try, he reminds her that for a GPS to be useful, they need a destination and that he would leave her in charge of his dad's collector's item,

"if only you knew how to drive".

They reach the Hamptons around 5PM. He takes her to a small restaurant on the beach he frequented over the summer, trying to escape the city and her absence. The irony of the situation doesn't escape him. Dan Humphrey showing Blair Waldorf around the Hamptons. Vanessa would wince. They both have lobster and champagne. Her idea of course. She would replace water with champagne if it were up to her. She's a modern-days Marie-Antoinette. He tells her and she blushes. Only her could take that as a compliment.

"Do you think a straight man and a straight woman can be friends?" she randomly asks.

"Why couldn't they be?" He asks puzzled, raking his brain for examples of successful aforementioned friendships. He can't find any.

"A little thing called sexual attraction you know. If one loves someone as a friend and they want to get all horizontal and sweaty with the other, then what you're feeling is akin to love or at least desire. Hence, there can be no platonic heterosexual male-female friendship."

"Are you saying we're not friends?" He says, grabbing his chest, pretending to be offended.

"Us? friends? Don't flatter yourself Humphrey." But she smiles.

There is a comfortable silence.

"That wasn't your question though."

"It's not?" she says raising an eyebrow.

"No, who cares if it's friendship or love. It's all on the good end of the spectrum of human emotions. You're only scared that acting on those feelings can lead to the loss of friendship."

She doesn't say anything but she nods.

"That reminds me of a quote "You never lose by loving. You always lose by holding back". At the risk of sounding cliché Blair when you do love someone, if you end up losing your friendship then you didn't lose anything worth having in the first place."

"I don't think Chuck and I were ever friends." She drops and he doesn't know what to answer, because he wholeheartedly agrees. But not all truths need to be told.

"Dan, you know that first night, eight months ago, when we started the game. I showed up in a cocktail dress."

"Yeah?" he urges

"Chuck bought that dress. Jack wanted me to wear this when he and I…" She releases a breath, debating the pros and cons of releasing what was weighing on her soul, "When we had sex in exchange for Chuck's hotel. And Chuck not only agreed to this indecent proposal, he chose the wrapping of his human sacrifice. He manipulated me and traded me for his precious Empire. And I went along with it. I've blamed everyone. Myself, Jack, the damn hotel, but it was Chuck. He doesn't know what it means to love someone and I've never been willing to really see that, to accept it. I have always thought that I could teach him what it means and what it feels like to truly love another person; I thought that I could fix him by loving him too much. I have never allowed myself to understand that he treated me as a commodity, because he simply didn't love me enough."

He's horrified and taken with homicidal impulses. Out of all the times leading up to him punching Chuck, he never felt the desire to do so more than now. But she looks free. She told him despite her shame. He understands that she had been struggling with that since their first game but that she finally let go and that he needs to do the same. He understands without a word from her that she doesn't hate Chuck, but that she doesn't love him anymore.

As much as others walking all over her infuriate him, he loves that about her. Her ability to forgive them for the monstrosities they inflict on her. She should never have to but she does and that's what makes her godly. That's what makes her as beautiful as she is. And she is incredibly beautiful.

He pays and they leave the restaurant. He takes her hand interlacing their fingers. After a short walk on the beach to enjoy the sunset and made delirious by how free she looks, he suggests skinny-dipping. She blushes

"Nice try Humphrey, but that house belongs to my mother's biggest customer and this one over there," she says pointing to a huge beach house "is the house of my first boyfriend from kindergarden."

"So? Worst case scenario, your mom's customer gets a peek at the goddess that you are and spends even more to show his gratitude and if he's lucky, boyfriend number 1 gets the show of everything he's been missing."

He's already unzipped her skirt. She's not wearing panties, he revels in the discovery. He takes her sheer white blouse off and she doesn't have a bra either. She looks at him, steps closer and returns the favor taking his T-shirt off, letting her breasts brush against him as she does so. Undoes his belt and his zipper and gets rid of it all. It reveals his erection but he's not ashamed of his desire for her and she smiles. She takes his hand and challenges him to a race. But he knows she is just scared anyone would see her. Anyone but him. She shouldn't be. The rest of humanity should only be so lucky. But he doesn't tell her. He's not fighting their battles. They both throw themselves in the water. And the look on her face tells him she's enjoying the feeling of the water on her naked flesh. So does he. He loves that the stream that touches him was on her seconds ago and he can't think of a better place to be. She smiles and she laughs and it echoes in his soul. This is bliss he thinks. And he can see clearly at last. Her and him, living naked all the time on a beach somewhere. Her singing and him writing books about her pleasuring herself. He thinks he might keep those for himself but he would write about her and about how she makes him feel. It might be uninteresting and too darn simple, but it would make him happy. He only snaps out of his reverie when he sees her lips moving in the sunset

"Dan, are you gonna make your move or what?"

He takes a breath and his lips curl up, he's stunned, too afraid to understand. But before he can do anything, he feels her grabbing his neck, inserting her hot little tongue in his mouth and wrapping her legs around him. She still doesn't ask for permission, as if she knows that he is hers. They're surrounded by an empty world and he feels like the chosen one. They make out as two people in love do for the first time. It's deep and slow as if they were trying to learn each other by heart. After a while, they feel the cold paralyzing them, so they rush out, parting with regret and they get dressed again, devouring each other in looks and thoughts. Thankfully Cece's house is only ten minutes away, so he extends his hand to her and they start walking.

"Dan we are friends you know. Sometimes I think you're my only friend."

"I know and you'll never lose that I promise. You'll always have me."

She smiles, tears in her eyes. Grateful.

Once in the huge beach house, they prepare themselves desert and they bask in the anticipation, wanting to drag it out. They look at each other, knowing they're about to consummate their new relationship and the silence between them makes them feel both coy and shy.

She can't stop smiling and it makes him feel warm. They're close but it's a different kind of close. It's a proximity filled with possibilities. He cuts cubes of grapefruit for them both and every so often he lets his hand on her thigh letting it get closer to her center each time, and she drops hot kisses on his neck that feel a whole lot like foreplay. He feeds her bits of grapefruit with his bare fingers and she swallows them whole, eyeing him suggestively. It paralyzes him. She lets the juice of the fruit fall on her throat to the valley of her breasts. If it's a game of teasing, she's winning.

She jumps and runs to the staircase when he suggests picking out sleeping arrangements. Truthfully, they just open the first door they find. To this day, he couldn't describe the room accurately. She's shivering keeping his eyes on him, so he goes to the bathroom to run her a bath but she has another idea. She enters after him and gets into his arms for a hug. He kisses her hair and he loves that she's so petite that she can bury herself in there. She pulls away takes his hand and drags him to the shower. She opens the hot stream and they start kissing ever so slowly, still perplexed that they get to do this to each other. He studies her, mystified.

Those gorgeous sensual lips he moistened with whiskey during their first game. He kisses her as if he was tasting the most delicious thing for the first time, torn between his need to retain her flavor and his greediness to move on to other parts of her. The water has rendered her blouse completely see-through and her nipples are hard through it. He tears the offending material open and traces the swelling of her breasts, just like she did when she stripped. He squeezes her right breast and he loves how it moves and how full it feels under his hand. He lifts her and her legs close all around him. He captures her left breast in his mouth, biting her nipple lightly, and she offers it willingly, like she's about to offer herself. He presses her against the wall wanting her to feel the cold on her back and the steam on her body. He pulls back to look at her. The desire in her eyes is unbearable. Not breaking eye contact while she brings her legs down, he puts his hands on her gorgeous ass, makes quick work of her skirt and she's finally naked. And this is how she was created to be. All the time. He feels her small delicate hand on his stomach so dangerously close to where he desperately needs her. He gets rid of his shirt while she's working on his zipper, freeing his erection.

Even with salty water on her, her dark wet locks sticking to her face, she looks like a perfect doll. She's so feminine that it hurts.

"You're so beautiful" he says because he can't bear one more second thinking it and not being able to tell her. He finally reaches for her pussy and she shakes under his touch because she's been waiting for this for such a long time. He enters two fingers inside her. He sees her struggling to re-open her eyes, conflicted between wanting her pleasure to take over and her need to see him inside her for the first time. He whispers her name in her ear softly, encouragingly, wanting her eyes back on him.

"Blair baby, please look at me."

He knows it sounds like he's begging, but he doesn't give a fuck. Her need for him wins and her deep soulful eyes are back on him, hungry. He kneels before her and she runs her fingers through his hair, slightly pushing him towards her sex. She always thought that move was vulgar but she doesn't care. He's making her a different person and she's not sure she minds as much as she's supposed to. He wants to enjoy her need for him so he resists just a little, taking his fingers out and licking them. She groans in frustration and it's too much for him to bear. He never could torture her, he wasn't about to start now. He darts his tongue out to taste that heavenly essence he knows so well for having dreamt about it for months. It was imprinted on him just like she is. It feels right and it feels like home. He's never tasted anything like it and he needs more. He's now licking her fully and he applies one hand flat on her stomach to keep her from writhing. She lifts her leg up and rests her thigh on his shoulder, granting him more access. He can't help but smirk against her. He wishes he could see how sexy she is right now, but he wants her undone. He wants her to cry out his name so he completes his licking by entering her with two fingers, then three and starts his back and forth. He hears her moan

"Dan, please…" It's deep and interrupted but he knows what she wants.

He accelerates and he becomes rougher, moving his fingers inside of her because she likes it that way. He's validated a few seconds later when her walls contract around his hand and her juices invade his mouth and her hand contracts in his hair, she screams and it's the most beautiful sound he ever heard. He gets up, trailing her body with kisses. He's fucking hard but he doesn't care.

At least he thinks he doesn't, until she gives him a peck on the lips and gets out of the shower, smirking. He can't believe she's leaving him squirming with unfulfilled desire.

He shouts after her "Blair? Blair! Are you fucking serious?"

He grabs a towel, ties it around his hips and follows her in the bedroom. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight though. She's on her four on the bed.

"Oh yes. Dead serious."

He has not time to admire her wickedness. He discards the towel, kneels behind her on the bed and he finally pushes into her, hands grabbing her hips, keeping her against him. He hates himself for not having done this before. He can't believe he ever thought she couldn't belong to anyone. She has belonged to him all this time, not because he deserves her but because she chose him. He feels as if he never had sex before. If he did, he can't remember it. Because it never felt as tight, as hot and welcoming, it never smelt that good, it never felt so right. He withdraws himself and turns her over.

"I need to see you."

He grabs both her thighs pushing them apart like he did before but this time he gets to plunge into her. So he does. As deeply as he can. As deeply as nature will allow him to. She cries out against his mouth. Suddenly she turns them over so that she's on top. She starts moving, steadying herself by placing her hands on his stomach and he feels the heavenly friction on his dick and he knows her clit is rubbing against him. It's so erotic he almost explodes right then and there. He puts his hands on her hips trying to still her or at least slow her down, but she's not having any of it and she continues moving wildly against him. He takes the silk blindfold conveniently kept on the bedside table, and he turns them over, he grabs her hands and ties her up to the bedpost. He sees recognition in her eyes and she seems turned on beyond imagination. It's still Blair though and in retaliation, she bites his shoulder hard and the pain inflicted by the little vixen only enhances the indecent pleasure she procures, he brings his finger to her lips and she takes it in her mouth, wetting it. He brings the finger to her other entrance and inserts it in her asshole. She bites him again but it's sensual this time. He feels her relaxing and moving even more against him, desperate for more friction.

Images of her hazing him in school, her moments of vulnerability through the years, her letting him drink off of her stomach flash before his eyes and he moves frantically inside her, wanting her to get her release and feeling way too close to his. Thankfully, it's mere seconds before she screams out. And it's his name on her gorgeous lips again. He's sure of it this time. He's accepted it. Heaven contracts and engulfs him. He feels his cum filling her. He lets himself fall on her, resting his body there, enjoying the erratic beats of her heart and the way her breasts move while she tries to catch her breath. He unties her then, and she cuddles in his arms, she weighs nothing and yet she means the world. They lay here and she falls asleep. Before he follows her, he understands that morning comes, they will be gone and no one will ever find them again.

From God or Satan, who cares? Angel or Siren,
Who cares, if you make, — fay with the velvet eyes,
Rhythm, perfume, glimmer; my one and only queen!
The world less hideous, less tedious leave our day.