Title: Blood and Butterfly Wings
Author: Syrianora
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All is used for entertainment, none for profit.
Pairings: Mostly Chuck and Blair. (Implied D/S)
Summary: Chuck Bass is prepared to exact his father's most desired revenge upon the Waldorf family. However, when he meets the object of his revenge, Blair Waldorf, he finds himself entranced by the brown-eyed brunette, and risking everything to have her. AU Chuck and Blair. Mature.
Author's Note: EEK! I was so excited for all the reviews on the last chapter! I know many of you love the sensual CB, and trust me, it will continue :) After the mess made of yesterday's show, I think we all deserve it. Last night was extremely depressing for me: I couldn't really think about finishing up the chapter after being pretty much SUCKER PUNCHED in that face with that ridiculous episode. Not only because of the obvious NON-pairings that were invented (probably at a drunken bet, I'm sure of it. Let's piss off the biggest fanbase and see what happens!), but the general character mess-ups. Nothing that was done yesterday by the characters, I felt, was true and following development. Serena being the most obvious example. But hey, this is about the story, not about the degradation of a loved TV show.
Once again, thanks to all who reviewed, who alerted, and those who have stayed with me throughout this journey. You are divine :) Enjoy, and reviews are adored :)
Chapter 14: Drowsy Pleasure
"You with the dark burly hair and the breathtaking eyes,
your inquiring glance that leaves me undone.
Eyes that pierce and then withdraw like a blood-stained sword,
eyes with dagger lashes!
Zealots, you are mistaken - this is heaven."
Zebunisso's "Ghazal"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Here we are, sir," Stan exclaimed with a sunny cheer, despite the later hour, as the limousine made its gradual stop in front of the apartment complex. The barely visible snowflakes had yielded their tumultous decent, leaving sheets of white sparkles atop the New York scenery. Even with the later hour, New York was still bustling with activity, the blaring horns of taxicabs still ever present and certainly difficult to dismiss. The thriving aspect of the city could never have been detained.
Noting the earlier command to keep his mouth shut entirely for the planned activities of the evening, he was pleased when Chuck did not shoot him a predatory glance at his cheery attempt to be cordial. His bright cerulean eyes shifted to his rear-view mirror, and he couldn't contain the wide smirk that stretched across his elder features at the scene that greeted him.
Instead of the two being on opposite sides of the vehicle, the farthest they could have situated themselves a few hours before, a mere few inches separated the duo at the moment. Her eyes weren't glued to the fleeting scenery outside the window; rather, they were staring in what Stan assumed to be wonder at the mesmerizing man beside her.
And Chuck wasn't staring out his side of the limousine either. Instead, his dark orbs were glued on the wide eyes of his accompany for the evening.
No words had been spoken for the entire drive back; perhaps no words needed to be uttered.
Perhaps Chuck hadn't even heard Stan's minor mishap in disobeying orders.
The brunette before him certainly had locked his attention. Never before had Stan seen Chuck look so intensely at a woman before. Never mind giving her his utmost engrossment at simple glance. After having accompanied Chuck on many former dates, that was an accomplishment in itself for the lady.
First point? Awarded to the stunning brunette with shapely legs.
Blair smiled warmly, turning her eyes to the kind driver and thanking him with an amicable nature. Stan was even more amazed as Chuck promptly exited the vehicle from his side and held the door open for a beaming Blair Waldorf. Chuck had never held the door open for the woman after the date; usually, it was somewhat of a passing response when his date attempted to bid the younger Bass goodnight.
Second point would surely be awarded to this... polite Chuck.
Stan rolled his eyes inwardly in amusement at Chuck's antics. The New York air surely had had an effect on his superior's behavior.
Or was it the striking brunette that had Chuck behaving like a perfect gentleman?
Right, he murmured to himself, shaking his head slightly in confusion. You've known the lad his entire life, and he still surprises you.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Blair, still wearing Chuck's dinner jacket, allowed Chuck to escort her to the revolving doors of the apartment complex. The night air had slightly cooled with the disappearance of the falling flakes of snow. Nodding slightly at the doorman, she turned to Chuck, eyes bright and hair slightly falling loose from the chignon of the earlier night.
"I had a great time tonight," she exclaimed, a shy smile beaming across her features. "You really know how to treat a lady."
Chuck merely nodded in acceptance, hands folded pristinely behind his back as he regarded her with a slender smirk. "It was certainly a pleasure, Blair."
Her lips thinned, eyes watching him coolly. His eyes were still scrutinizing her, still observing her every move and facial feature.
And then she turned abruptly to the revolving doors of her home. Of course, determined to sit by a warm fire and enjoy a well-deserved glass of chardonnay.
And Chuck remained standing in his place, watching her directed journey.
This was where he would know if his seduction had been successful.
This absolute moment would define his future plans.
He had planned the entire ordeal down to this instant, where he would watch the fruits of his labor either destroy or sanctify him.
After all the weeks of planning his first move.
Of speculating her reaction to his forward gestures.
Of researching every moment of her life, every heartbreak, every daily routine of the lives of those around her.
Of countless hours spent scrutinizing her words.
Of sleepless nights dreaming of her lithe body beneath him atop his Egyptian black silk sheets.
He had left the ball in her court. He had done everything he could have for the entire time to make her magnificently intoxicated by his every touch and look.
Now she would have to play some role in her own destruction.
He had given her the reins of her outright demise.
As her heels continued their way to the doors, he felt a hint of despair take root in his soul.
Had he tackled the situation from completely the wrong angle?
Was she just going to saunter out of his life, into the elevator, into her sheets, and forget the Chuck Bass that had attempted a heated seduction?
Christ, he was getting a mind-numbing headache. It had been such a sure deal before, laying out his well-made plans to his overexuberant father, clinking their glasses of scotch in a toast of a meticulously made seduction of the Waldorf heiress. Bart had been so pleased, so absolutely elated with joy at his son's deceivement that Chuck had made a silent promise to himself to grant his father's undying revenge.
At whatever cost necessary, regardless of the consequences.
After all, who could deny a father's sought-after acceptance of a belittled son?
Now he was not so sure of his destructive courtship. Had he been too enthusiastic and hopeful, renting out an entire room to themselves in an Italian hall? Had he frightened her off with his brazen advances atop the marble balcony overlooking the brightest city in the world?
Had everything he had done been for nothing?
Before he could turn to stomp back to his limousine to prepare for a heavy scotch session for the night, he heard the soft click of heels stop their murderous melody.
And his heart nearly soared with delight.
Blair turned around slowly, eyes a bit wide and unsure, bottom lip caught with her bottom teeth. A gentle breeze fluttered across the sidewalk, casting loose tendrils of curls to frame her curious features. Unconsciously, she tugged the dinner jacket even tighter to her bared body, and he felt an instant gleam of satisfaction that her unique scent would forever be perfumed into his coat.
For the purposes of the plan, of course. Nothing, nothing else.
And then the heavens allowed the goddess to speak.
"Would you like to come up?"
And then, in that instant, the calculating and smirking Chuck Bass took his rightful place at the sidewalk.
"I'd love to."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"The living room's right around the corner," Blair exclaimed with direction as the two strolled into her apartment. The elevator ride had been nothing but awkward. Her foot had nervously tapped against the hard floor, eyes glued to the shut doors and he had found the numerous buttons to be entirely interesting at that particular elevator.
As Blair hung the adored jacket, Chuck made a noteworthy conclusion. Dorota was nowhere to be found; Chuck assumed that the portly maid had already retired to her bedroom for the evening. A delicious smirk found its way onto his features; Dorota would have been a source of distraction for the night.
Her lacking presence had just granted Chuck far more leisure in his gentle seduction.
And the less distractions presented, the far better it would be for him.
And most certainly, for Blair.
"Make yourself at home," she spoke with a smile, heading in the opposite direction and leaving Chuck at the foyer.
Chuck offered a courteous nod, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark dress pants. He took wide, devious steps to the area Blair had pointed to, stopping when he reached the entrance to the sitting room.
The area had been decorated with an extremely classic touch. Plentiful wide paintings decorated the walls, along with highly-detailed vases and meticulous-looking flowers adorning the area. A very pricey feeling had obviously made its existence.
No wonder she had been thoroughly amazed by the setting in their private room at D'Gello's. It so resembled the type of interior design she enjoyed.
One particular frame caught his watchful eye as it quickly scanned the room. He walked with a comforting air to stand before the delicate painting by the balcony's screen door.
The scene was that of an Italian city side, with its cramped, many-windowed buildings glued so tightly together by the docks. City natives stood atop the countless gondolas flowing gently across the shifting waves of crisp-blue water. Other bystanders mingled near the market, exchanging coins of silver with small fruits. Atop the buildings was a bright orange and pale pink composition of a large sky that boasted over the crumbling structures. The artist's name and the year of the work hung near the corner, scribbled in a blackish ink that was barely visible.
He immediately recognized the picture because he himself had stood at the painter's spot and watched the Italian locals wander through the many markets and bazaars near the docks of the gondola sightseeing structures. A warm smile overcame his features as he noted the sheer coincidence of it all, of Blair having a painting hung in her living room of a scene he had personally witnessed years earlier.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he heard a voice murmur behind his form. A glass of cooled champagne was held out by a petite arm, and he took it graciously, eyes still locked on the stunning portrait.
"It was a gift from my mother a few years ago," Blair explained, a tone of wonder and a hint of adoration lacing her sweet voice. "A street vendor sold it to her at a ridiculous price, but she swore she would have it."
A light chuckle escaped his lips, still staring at the mixture of colors. "It's a striking painting," he spoke with admiration. "It's even more stunning when you've seen it in real life."
Blair turned to face Chuck, eyes wide and questioning. She was discernibly interested in his response. "You've been to this city?"
Chuck nodded slowly, turning back to face her curious gaze. "Venice, Blair," he murmured, eyes watching her solely. "I stood at that exact spot and watched the locals go on with their daily lives. It's all very fascinating, actually."
A moment of silence passed between them, and then she spoke.
"You seem very cultural. For the age and day, of course," she explained, a crimson blush staining her cheeks.
Chuck grinned. He wandered over to the large expansive couch and planted himself upon it, tossing one leg over the other and regarding her with absolute entrancement, the glass of champagne hanging from his lithe fingertips.
"Watching the people there, Blair, it's not like anything you've ever seen." His soothed words melted together in a bewitching melody as she slowly felt drawn into his thoughts, joining him on the couch. "The people there have a real passion for life, a l'amore di vita. They drink, dance, smoke, anything you can ever imagine because it's the rapture of living they adore."
Briefly, she noted the absolute fervor of his words, the easy slur of his tongue as it formed the foreign language. It was so stirring, she simply couldn't fathom an intelligent response, one that would deem her worthy of partaking in such a heartfelt discussion. But still, she managed to speak. "Sounds like quite a world."
He grinned, abstractedly inching closer to her. "I've been to many places in the world, Blair, and Venice will always remain in my heart."
She grinned, finding an opportunity to tease him. "And what about Paris? Doesn't your home country deserve any attention?"
He regarded her for a long moment, the heavy ticking of the grandfather clock at the far end of the room the only sound present.
"Paris is undoubtedly a beautiful city, Blair. But it's Venice you have to see before you die."
She smiled, touched by his amiable consideration.
"One day I'll take you there," he exclaimed. "To Venice, of course."
Her eyes narrowed, a hint of amusement shining deep in her dark orbs. "You seem very confident of yourself. Of a second date, that is."
He placed the champagne glass on the table beside him, moving forward inch by tantalizing inch until he had placed his hand upon her bare knee. Silently, she cursed the black material for having ridden up so provocatively. "You said you had a good time tonight."
Her lips thinned. "It doesn't mean that I haven't forgotten your little promise earlier today," she spoke, somewhat with an air of superiority, glad to finally have the momentary upper hand since the beginning of the evening. "Remember? The one that said you'd leave me alone forever if I agreed to one night?"
The smile on his face grew even wider, if possible, and Blair found herself entranced by that infuriating smirk. "I remember. And you've kept your end of the bargain."
She nodded slowly, slightly hypnotized by his charming eyes. And just like that, that mesmerizing glance she had encountered at Petrozza's came to him at once. His eyes narrowed, his lips parted, and his head tilted to the side to fully view her intoxicating features.
"You're doing that thing again," she breathed, attempting to speak with his magnetic gaze staring her down. However, it merely came out as a gasped murmur. "What did I do?"
"Your eyes, Blair," he murmured, his mind not registering what he were speaking. "They... pull you right in."
His eyes regarded her, then moved to her hand resting to the side. His fingers edged to her hand, running the digits delicately over her open palm. He studied the lines and grooves etched upon her small hand, slightly pleasured at the paler skin they both sported.
The norms of modern-day society prided a tanner complexion. Celebrities crowded for a much-yearned spot before the sun, desperate for a fleeting kiss from the rays of sunlight.
However, paler complexion gave a sense of mystery. A sense of anonymity, a sense of the unknown withheld by the holder.
How appropriate that he sported that particular shade.
How ironic that she adored it as well.
"Have you ever been touched before, Blair?" he whispered, voice dripping with a dark intensity that sent a traitorous shiver down her spine.
A small, muted gasp escaped her lips as she struggled to maintain some semblance of control under his heated gaze and his wandering fingers. His scrutinizing gaze upon her supple palm was having a dizzying effect on her; she couldn't seem to place some tangibility back into her existence.
"Is that an appropriate question?" she managed to reply, lids half-shut as his warm breath heated her stretched neck. When had he gotten so close? "What do you expect me to say to that?"
A deep, hoarse chuckle emitted from his throat. She felt the vibrations of his chuckle against her porcelain neck, and her tongue wetted her lips in anticipation of what was to come. "A touch is a very powerful thing, Miss Waldorf," he replied, returning to an aura of darkness as the smile grew smaller with every passing second. "I'd like to show you that."
Her eyes shot open at his words. Tongue darting out to wet her lips once again, she watched his fingers continue their dangerous trek across her trembling skin. Finally, after he seemed to have sketched every path of the grooves, his index finger pressed lightly on the pulse point at her wrist.
Her breath hitched in her throat as his finger traveled up her arm in a deathly gradual pace. Even with the dark material of her sleeves covering her skin, his momentary touch sent electrical sparks deep into her veins until she was certain she would burst into an uncontrolled flame.
His index finger finally reached her shoulder. The stretched black fabric of her dress relented, either by his heated gaze or his talented fingers, she wasn't too sure. Her groggy mind wasn't willing to cooperate at that instant. The digit circled the gentle curve of her bare shoulder, tracing the porcelain skin of her collarbone leisurely until it reached her heaving breasts.
Unconsciously, but absolutely drowning in drowsy pleasure, she tossed her head back, exposing the milky skin at her throat as Chuck's finger calmly ran over the tops of her mounds.
Chuck watched her satisfaction, the long column of her throat bare as he kept his gaze on her shut lids, absolutely fascinated by the erotic goddess at his fingertips.
Splaying his palm against the warmed skin, his hand moved upwards, gently cupping the curve of her delicate neck for a simple moment. Blair let out a tiny moan as she felt his palm slowly travel downward, across the expanse of heated skin at her back. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as the strokes became a bit slower, more torturous, less mindful of her internal desire to have him touch every part of her exposed body.
And those parts not currently exposed?
She would gladly take care of that simple burden.
Chuck's fingertips, however, were not getting their hunger satisfied. His fingers desperately yearned to feel more of the perfected skin, to dip into the forbidden crevices and roam over the chilled skin to leave a flame of desire rushing through her veins. His fingers nearly begged to skim over the flat skin at her abdomen, to follow the curve of the underside of her breasts, to trace along the long expanse of her quivering thighs.
However, Chuck kept his fingers at a safe distance, refusing to allow too much pleasure to overtake his form.
But with each second of the protected journey, Chuck felt a profound desire to roam over the prohibited territories of her lithe body.
"Just one thing I have to do," Chuck whispered between clenched teeth, eyes shut in tight conflict as he felt perfected skin beneath his heated palm.
"Hmm?" he heard her throaty question, head still tossed back in reckless abandon. His fingers halted their supple caress at the small of her back, gently roaming up her naked back to finger the lovely strands atop her head.
His eyes still shut, his fingers roved across the silken strands until he found a hard surface buried deep into the soft silk. Pulling the bothersome stick out of her hair, the chocolate tresses fell in abandon around his fingers, which immediately tangled in the dark curls.
A wonderful mixture of a fragrant vanilla scent and delectable bath oils invaded his senses as he held the locks so delicately. His fingers began their gentle massage into her scalp as she stifled a heated moan from escaping her parted, prepared lips.
"Miss Blair? A phone call?"
His fingers stopped their loving ministrations against her scalp, diving downward to untangle themselves from the dark mess. She immediately tensed at the newest arrival, head tossing to the direction of the intruder to meet a shocked Dorota's gaze.
A robe-clad, slipper-wearing Dorota.
A wide-eyed, open-mouthed Dorota.
Greeted with the image of her superior tangled with the earlier stranger atop the couch, hands hidden and hair tossed wildly around her guilt-ridden features.
Blair gulped soundly, nodding slowly at Dorota, the dark curls around her face framing her features in a hasty manner. "I'll be right there," she managed to respond. Dorota, still staring wide-eyed at the duo, simply offered a non-existent curtsy and scampered out of the room, the doe-eyed bunny slippers conceding to her abrupt command.
Blair turned to Chuck, a hint of a smile of amusement beginning to make its way to her features. "I think you might have scared my maid."
He merely offered a grin, bringing his thumb to her cheekbone to trace the delicate bone ever so affectionately. "I don't believe I was the only guilty party."
Blair smiled shyly, resting her palm over his wandering one. "I'll only be a minute."
The couch shifted as she reluctantly pulled herself out of his seductive hold. Adjusting the dress so that the clothing courtly covered her uncovered shoulder, she grabbed her champagne glass and headed out the room.
Chuck, meanwhile, tossed his head back to rest against the arm of the chair. He took large and profoundly deep gulps of air. His heart, however, would not stop its furious pounding against his chest. Licking his lips, he nearly groaned as he imagined a vague vanilla taste.
What was wrong with him? One minute with the brunette, and he was reduced to a dripping horny puddle of pleasure!
Never again, he thought to himself, taking deeper breaths of calming air. Finish the job, and get the hell out.
He would never allow himself to lose control so easily. The hair movement had definitely been unplanned; the entire evening, he had wished she had wore it done, but he supposed that it would have demeaned the value of her backless dress. But, when his palm had roamed over her skin, the sudden desire to free the captured curls had cruelly overtaken him, until he felt it necessary to allow his hand to travel upward and fulfill his utmost desire.
And the eye comment? Where the hell had that come from?
He shot upwards as he heard a familiar pair of heels make its way towards him. He would have to get back to reprimanding himself another time.
"I'm sorry, but that was Serena," he heard Blair exclaim with worry. "She's really upset and wants me to come over. Looks like her and Dan had another fallout."
She appeared before him, slightly more composed, but long tresses of chocolate still adoring her bared shoulders. A flushed look definitely had overcame her: her eyes had become huge and bright, and the tiny blush to her cheeks made the phrase even more obvious.
Chuck smiled warmly, glad that his one simple moment had been so properly successful. He stood up, grasping her hands in his and staring solely into her eyes. "Go see Serena. She needs you tonight."
Blair returned the smile. "She knows not to call me unless it's an emergency," she explained, ready to defend her actions. "I'm so sorry, but I know I'm cutting this off-"
He silenced her explanation with a finger to her lips, casting an amused glance in her direction. "That's okay. I really do understand, Blair," he spoke with affection. "After all, she's my friend as well."
Then, he couldn't suppress a smirk from planting on his face. "She led me to you, remember?"
Her bottom lip caught between her teeth, eyes regarding him intensely. Feeling the wandering digit against her lips was far more than Blair could handle. Instead, her lips softly moved forward, meeting the sharp angles of his face.
Butterfly wings made their delicate flutter against his cheekbone as Blair placed the most silkest of kisses upon him. His eyes shut in tender response at the fleeting encounter.
And then, just as fleetingly as it had came, it was gone.
"Thank God for that."
Chuck, slightly stumbly at her brazen actions and the warming sensation he had just experienced, merely nodded in return. Without thinking, he cupped her face, tracing the contours of her cheekbones ever so lightly, lulling her into a deep seduction as the lids of her eyes slowly drifted shut. "Goodnight, Blair."
And then, just as quickly as the butterfly wings had appeared, she opened her eyes, and he was gone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It wasn't a weekend update, but it was better than a week, right?
Right :)
Anyways, reviews are always ADORED, dearies. I'll be needing them to fully inspire me to write CB after that horrible episode and the ridiculous upcoming hiatus. So let's pray for all illogical GG writers, that they may get their stuff together and give us a show worthy of the fans.
Have a great week.
And once again, thanks to all still continuing with the story. Reviewers and alerters, you make my day :)