Chapter 1

I don't want this moment to ever end
Where everything's nothing without you
I'd wait here forever just to, to see you smile
'Cause it's true, I am nothing without you

-Sum 41, "With Me"

Some would say that night at Victrola changed everything, but they would be wrong. Change isn't the right word for what transpired in the back of his dark limo; revelation is probably a more accurate description. You see, the spark started long before that night, but without an ignitor, it couldn't grow into a flame. Her dance, her kiss, his question - it didn't change anything, but it certainly unleashed something that had lain dormant for quite a while.

Chuck Bass had known Blair Waldorf for as long as he could remember. To the outside observer, their connection began and ended with Nate Archibald. They ran in the same social circle and kept the same company; they weren't exactly friends, but they were more than acquaintances. Most would say that they merely tolerated one another's presence out of loyalty to Nate, but like many misconceptions about Blair and Chuck, this was wholly untrue.

If she was queen, he was her henchman, always prepared to dirty his own hands to keep hers clean. If she needed to humiliate someone, he found the means, no matter how unethical, immoral, or illegal. Everyone knew that his moral code was questionable at best, but he really did it for her. She may be vindictive and manipulative, but on the surface, she was innocent and pure. He assisted her in doling out the severest of punishments while still maintaining her carefully constructed image of perfection. Ice ran through her veins. She showed no mercy, and the student body came to fear her. To challenge her was to commit the worst form of social suicide.

Her callousness was just one of the traits that captivated Chuck. Behind her large doe eyes, he found a shrewdness that most Constance girls lacked. She could match wits with nearly anyone, but she did it with a sugary sweet smile plastered on her ruby lips. In spite of her ability to tear others down, though, he could see her vulnerability - her self-doubt and insecurity that she expertly hid from Nate and Serena. After years watching from the shadows, he knew that the majority of her takedowns were partially done out of a deep-rooted desire for self-preservation and an assertion of her own worth.

When he first set his sights on the old burlesque club, his initial thought was that he might actually be able to garner positive attention from his father for once, but his mind soon wandered to Blair's reaction. It might seem strange to seek her approval, but he trusted her opinion above all others (with the possible exception of Bart's). If she confirmed that the idea had merit, then surely his father would, too. He didn't stop to consider why he was so anxious to hear Blair's thoughts on his business venture before he called her and asked her to meet him before school.

His heart had constricted tightly in his chest and an uncharacteristically silly grin settled on his lips when he heard the words: "Chuck Bass, I do believe that all your years of underage boozing and womanizing have finally paid off. Truly, I am proud."

When had anyone taken pride in him? Certainly not his father or his teachers. Blair's supportive compliments gave him the confidence he needed to approach Bart. She was probably the only person who'd ever expressed a belief in him and his vision. She saw something in him that no one else had ever even taken the time to try to see; no one else found the effort worthwhile. Her words of encouragement meant something to him in a way that he would never openly admit.

It wasn't like he was in love with her; she was his best friend's girlfriend, after all. He just respected her on a level that very few other people measured up to. In all of their years of friendship, he'd never been able to pinpoint exactly what it was that made her different from the rest of them. She was just more – more beautiful, more intelligent, more devious, more interesting. In many ways, she was as dark and deranged as he was, but she reflected a brightness that he couldn't quite touch. She was twilight, caught between varying shades of corruption and perfection. Her elegance and social graces shrouded her penchant for manipulation and scheming, and Chuck was all too willing to let her drop her demure disguise around him.

He was unprepared for just how ready she was to free herself from all of the expectations weighing her down. Her mother, Nate, New York society - they all wanted something from her that she didn't have left to give. She needed freedom and exhilaration; she needed champagne, burlesque, and him. He could hear the provocation in her voice when she said, "I just want to escape. That's what this place is for, right?"

As he reclined back into the vintage chesterfield sofa, she sat forward, flute in hand, mesmerized by the dancers on stage. The entire atmosphere was intoxicating, and she longed to be a part of it – something equally liberating and risky. A small playful smile played at the corners of her lips, "You know, I've got moves."

"Really?" He sat forward, unable to resist the urge to tease her, "Then why don't you get up there?'

She laughed at the apparent absurdity of his suggestion, "I'm just saying I have moves."

He nudged her shoulder lightly; her laughter was infectious. "C'mon, you're ten times hotter than any of those girls."

"I know what you're doing, Bass," she protested momentarily, but the slight buzz of the alcohol and the doubt written on his face caused her to reconsider. Blair Waldorf wasn't one to back down from a dare, "You really don't think I'll go up there."

"I know you won't do it," he said, clearly challenging her to defy her standards of propriety.

She looked back to the stage and scoffed at his skepticism. With confidence and certainty, she ordered, "Guard my drink."

He waved his hand toward the stage and settled back into the sofa once again, fascinated by the unexpected turn of events. Blair had always intrigued him, but her ascent up the stage left him dumbfounded. Her uptight, virginal veneer gave way to a natural kind of seduction. Her eyes never left his, despite the obnoxious catcall from the intoxicated crowd; the grin on her cherry lips and the deliciously sinful glint in her eyes combined to form a dramatically sensual display. The slow, hypnotic sway of her hips teased him, beckoning him as a Siren lures an unsuspecting sailor to his demise. As she dropped the ironically puritanical dress from her shoulders, he stood to his feet, no longer aware of anything around him except the vixen on the stage in front of him. Her fingers swept a slow, tantalizing path across her neck to her shoulders, and she looked back at him, her mouth opened, her eyes heavy-lidded. There was nothing innocent about the message in her eyes. His trousers grew tighter, and he gulped, unable to process the thoughts racing through his mind and the desire pulsing through his veins.

"Who's that girl?" he vaguely heard from over his shoulder.

"I have no idea," he admitted. He knew Blair Waldorf - Blair the Schemer, Blair the Queen, Blair the Perfectionist, but he didn't know Blair the Temptress.

He straightened his lapel and gulped back the champagne. When she giggled sheepishly from the stage - not out of shame but out of elation - he raised his glass in a toast to her, celebrating her newfound freedom. He'd never seen a more beautiful sight than that of Blair Waldorf losing her inhibitions.

She descended the stairs, bubbly laughter still emanating from her lips. Her movements were fluid, and she felt like she was floating. Chuck had watched her with unadulterated lust, and he didn't try to conceal that fact from her.

"Thanks for the lift home," she offered once they were safely tucked into the backseat of his limo.

"You were...amazing up there," his sultry voice awakened something inside of her, and she was done overthinking her every move. She wanted nothing more than to keep this indefinable feeling of freedom alive.

Slowly she scooted across the seat to him and pressed her lips softly to his. There was a clear question in her eyes that frightened and excited him at the same time. He pulled back before the kiss even really started, and through barely restrained desire, he muttered, "You sure?"

She didn't need to give him a verbal answer; the air was too thick with passion to deny their lust. Within seconds, he felt her soft lips connected with his again- this time instinct dictated their movements. What should've felt wrong and unnatural felt so very right. Chuck's heart pounded in his chest, unfamiliar nerves causing the slightest jitters in the hands trailing a path up her thigh. She draped her leg over his, searching for closer contact. The high she was riding from her dance was amplified by the feeling of masculine arms wrapped around her small waist, and all she wanted was to melt into him and his touch. Her mouth parted in a delicate sigh when his fingers reached the swell of her ass, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss by sliding his tongue against hers. When he sank his hands into her hips and lifted her into his lap without breaking the kiss, she understood exactly what he was looking for; it was the same thing she wanted. She writhed against him, reveling in the feel of his growing manhood against her leg.

He groaned and lowered his lips to her neck, but he was distracted by the ache in his groin. If she kept grinding against him so sensually, he was going to embarrass himself before either one was properly naked. He pushed her back slightly, and husked, "Blair…"

"Please, Chuck," she pulled roughly at his bow tie in an impatient attempt to undress, "I need this."

His unsure fingers worked the strap of her negligee down her shoulder, his lips finding purchase on her clavicle. He licked and sucked a trail across her collar bone until he lowered the second strap, and her chemise slipped down her chest, pooling at her waist. Chuck momentarily paused his ministrations to allow his eyes to take in her bare chest. To Blair's surprise, she didn't feel self-conscious under his scrutiny; she felt powerful and sexy. His eyes were glazed over with blatant desire as he slowly reached out and ran his thumb over her nipple. She shuddered against him, and he fully enveloped her breast in his hand, testing the weight against his palm. He dipped his head to press a soft kiss against the swell. She barely registered his raspy voice asking, "This okay?"

The only response she offered was a quiet moan of appreciation as his tongue swirled around her nipple and his free hand squeezed her other breast. She greedily ripped at the buttons on his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against hers. He shrugged out of his shirt, but stilled her hands that were fumbling with his belt buckle. He brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Slowly, we don't need to rush," he whispered, leaning in and pressing his lips against hers. She nodded and offered him a shy smile that caused his heart to flutter in a way that he couldn't quite understand.

He lowered himself to the floorboard in front of her, sliding his palms back up her thighs until he gathered her chemise around her waist. He placed a soft kiss against her inner knee and worked his way toward the apex of her thighs. She quivered under his touch from a mixture of nerves and anticipation, but she forced herself to relax back into the supple leather and enjoy his attention. Long fingers stroked teasingly over the damp silk of her panties, causing her to jolt in shock. He chuckled and slipped his fingers underneath the fabric, finding her wet with desire. He groaned to himself and teased her folds with light caresses before sliding a single finger into her. She gasped aloud when he moved his finger slowly in and out of her. He watched her face contort in pleasure as he explored her; he committed each of her sighs of ecstasy to memory. The pressure in his pants was growing unbearable, but he ignored his own need in search of her pleasure.

He exhaled slowly and reached for the bands of her underwear, pulling them down her slender legs and over her stiletto-clad feet. He looked back at her through hooded eyes, and raised himself to his knees to pull her slip over her head, leaving her in nothing but her stockings and long tangle of necklaces resting between her breasts. He gripped her hips tightly and dragged her ass to the edge of the leather bench. "You're beautiful, Blair," he rasped, his voice thick with lust, "Will you let me taste you?"

He knew that she'd never experienced oral sex, and he was aching to give her the pleasure that she deserved. Nate was too big of an idiot to know what to do with her, but Chuck wasn't about to waste this opportunity. She bit her lip in the most unintentional and innocent display of seduction he'd ever witnessed and nodded her head in affirmation, unable to form the actual words. He used his hands to spread her legs wide and ran his tongue in a path along her slit. "Oh, God," she mewled at the waves of pleasure washing through her and instinctively grasped his hair to hold him against her.

He slid two fingers inside of her this time and circled her clit with his tongue. As her breathing grew heavy and her grip grew tighter, he wrapped his hands around her thighs, lifting her legs over his shoulders for better access. His tongue plunged into her over and over relentlessly until she was coming against his tongue with a loud shriek. He moved back slightly, his chin glistening from servicing her. "You like that, huh?" he asked softly, still lightly fingering her folds, unwilling to completely break contact.

"Mmm," she sighed, still riding the brand new feeling of euphoria radiating through her veins, "That was amazing." She reached for his belt buckle for a second time and purred, "But you're still entirely overdressed."

He felt his pulse thumping in his ears, and he knew that this was the last obstacle to a line that he probably shouldn't cross. But when he looked at her and she smiled at him without a single ounce of shame or regret, any hesitancy left in him evaporated, and he made the decision to just be in this moment with her - to whatever extent she wanted. He was at her mercy.

He hissed when her dainty hand brushed against his erection, and he helped her pull his pants and boxers down so that they were both completely nude. It was dark inside the limo, but the city lights reflecting through the tinted windows allowed just enough illumination for her to make out the lines of his rigid cock. She eyed it curiously and reached out to stroke him, surprised by how warm and hard he felt in her small hand. When she ran her hand experimentally over the head, she was pleased to feel him respond to her touch. He groaned in approval, but after several moments, he removed her hand, a sheepish grin playing on his lips. "If you want this to last, you're going to have to stop doing that."

She smiled back at him, her eyes twinkling in amusement, "I thought the great Chuck Bass had more stamina than that."

"Stamina, yes, but when a naked Blair Waldorf has her hands wrapped around me -" He didn't have a chance to finish his thoughts before she pulled him back to her mouth. As he continued to kiss her, he blindly searched the footwell for his wallet and fished out a condom. Blair broke the kiss, her eyes studying his movements as he stretched the latex over his erection, and Chuck saw anxiety in her expression for the first time that night. He scooted back from her, hoping the distance would at least calm his raging desire, but he still reached across the seat for her hand and squeezed it gently. "Blair, we don't have to -" he inhaled slowly, suddenly feeling a little awkward sitting there donning a condom on his erect cock, reminding the girl that she can still back out, "I mean, I don't want you to feel pressured."

"I want this, Chuck," she whispered, tentatively reaching out to stroke his cheek reassuringly, "I just…"

She didn't finish her thought, but he understood. She'd chased Nate for so long that sex had developed almost a mythological quality to her. Begging a guy to take your virginity for so long doesn't exactly inspire confidence in your sex appeal or your abilities to satisfy a man.

He leaned forward and kissed her gently, murmuring against her lips, "I promise I'll make it as good for you as I can."

He reclined her against the long bench on the side and hovered over her, placing all of his weight on his forearms to keep from crushing her. He rubbed the head of his dick along her silkened folds, coating his body in her natural lubricant. He pressed his hips forward slowly until the tip just barely breached inside of her. "Is this okay?" he asked for the second time, hoping with his entire being that she was comfortable. His body was trembling with need, and it took all of his might to keep from burying himself inside of her.

"Ye-yes," she nodded. "Just be gentle."

He captured her lips as a distraction and surged his hips forward, sheathing himself completely in her warmth. She tore her mouth away, a gasp of surprise escaping her. "It's okay," he whispered, kissing down her jaw and chin. "You're okay."

Her body desperately tried to adjust to the invasion, but the reality of the entire situation hit her quickly. She'd just let Chuck Bass take her virginity. Never in a million years could she have predicted that this was how her story would play out. She still hurt, but there was a pressure building in her womb that she'd never experienced before. Suddenly the need for Chuck to fill her all over again was undeniable, and she wiggled her hips impatiently. "Again," she ordered. "Keep going."

He pulled out nearly all the way and reentered her, his eyes rolling back in his head from the sheer pleasure of it all. He'd been with a lot of women, but he'd never felt anything quite like being inside of Blair Waldorf. She was so warm, tight, and wet, and he knew that he wasn't going to last long with her desperate whimpers in his ear. He cradled her hips in his hand so that his thrusts were more shallow - pleasurable without being overwhelming. He wanted nothing more than to send her into ecstasy, but she would make him work for it, no doubt.

He moved his mouth to her clavicle and worked his way down to her swollen breasts. He licked and suckled against her nipple, pleased by the sound of gratification his ministrations elicited. "Wrap your legs around me, Blair," he urged her, increasing the rhythm of his movements.

When she locked her ankles behind his back, his strokes created the most delicious friction inside of her, causing her to cry out unexpectedly. "Oh, Chuck," her nails dug into his shoulders sharply, "Yes!" Every nerve-ending in her body was on fire, and she bucked her hips to meet his, seeking sweet release.

"God, you feel incredible," Chuck groaned, driving his hips into her hard, thrusting in earnest now. Neither one could control themself anymore, and the dark limo was filled with the sounds of heavy panting and slick skin sliding against leather. Chuck snaked his hand between their sweaty bodies and rubbed her clit in delicious circles. "Come for me, Blair," he commanded in a husky voice, trying with all his strength to stave off his own climax in favor of hers.

God, his voice was sexy; she'd never noticed the thick rasp until now, but it sent a thrill through her. She shuddered against him, and before she knew it she was convulsing against him, stars bursting behind her eyes. She cried out his name in unadulterated pleasure, and the sound of his name being called in the naughtiest of ways from her angelic lips sent him over the edge. With a final grunt, he spilled himself inside of her, muttering her name over and over.

He leaned in and offered her one more kiss, pulling out of her with an involuntary shiver. He wrapped the condom in a tissue and found Blair's discarded underwear. He helped her redress silently, and then pulled on his own boxers and pants. For several moments neither one said anything; what do you say after spontaneously fucking your ex's best friend or your best friend's ex?

Chuck suddenly realized that the limo was sitting still, indicating that they had reached the Waldorf penthouse. Arthur was professional enough not to interrupt Chuck's rendezvous, so it was untelling how long they had actually been there. He finally dared a glance in Blair's direction and found her seated awkwardly in the corner of the seat, her arms wrapped around her chest. His own heart clenched tightly, and he hoped that she wasn't having regrets already.

"Um, well," he started, unsure of what else to say, "Tonight was fun."

"Yeah," she forced a grin, "Thanks for…everything."

"It was my pleasure," he reached over to stroke her cheek, "Truly."

She laughed out loud at that and seemed to melt into his touch. He exhaled in relief that she seemed to relax a bit, and he leaned in to kiss her softly. "Goodnight, Waldorf," he whispered.

"Goodnight, Chuck," she squeezed his hand and exited the limo.

The violent flutters in his chest migrated to his stomach, and with shaking hands, he lowered the partition to order Arthur to take him home, where he would spend the rest of the night dreaming about Blair Waldorf.