Blair moaned as Chuck's lips reached the top part of her breasts. She sighed with pleasure at his light and almost reverent caress. Everything was already going way too far beyond what was considered proper for a respectable lady. Blair knew it was wrong. She couldn't go this far with him, but for the life of her she couldn't force her brain to conjure a single reason why she should make everything stop. All thoughts about protecting her currently endangered virtue were out the window the moment he had reached for her the second time. The sensations Chuck was eliciting in her with his talented and rough lips was almost too much for her to take and she couldn't formulate a coherent thought or concentrate on something for too long. She just didn't have the willpower to push him away from her and end the pleasure and ecstasy. Chuck's hands skimmed over the contours of her tiny waist until they settled gently over her chest, massaging right around his lips and magnifying every single pleasurable sensation a thousand times. Every nerve ending of her body felt alive and electrified. Blair felt numb but at the same time oversensitive. She could feel his warm touch under the lacy fabric of her scandalous scarlet dress. She shivered from his shallow breaths on the skin of her exposed flesh. It was almost too much. Too much pleasure. Too many sensations. Too much everything. Blair felt like she was on the verge of exploding and she knew in her gut that if she did explode, then she would finally reach nirvana or something similarly wonderful and surely heavenly. Her innocent and inexperienced body was screaming for release, the sensations already being too overwhelming. Chuck was already going a little further down with both his hands and lips. Blair's brain just shut up and turned off. All she could see was a blinding white under her closed eyelids and she found that she couldn't think straight anymore, not even conjure a single thought. All her attention was caught up with Chuck's ministrations. Chuck felt her petite body tremble under every single one of his touches and quaver in ecstasy at his ministrations. He was insanely joyous that it has him who was the first man ever to elicit such strong sensations within her. He was the one she would always remember and compare every other man to. It was him who was violating her innocence and tainting her. Him: Chuck Bass. She would always remember him for this, for sharing this moment with him. A sudden realization struck him: Blair Waldorf was an innocent, probably never gone any further physically than kissing and she was now in a very vulnerable state, her virginal body probably overwhelmed from his attention. Why would such a proper lady engage in activities so out of character? Why would she risk her reputation, her honor, hell, endanger her life!? Everyone knew who he was and what he was after. How could she have ever agreed to be with him alone knowing all those rumors about him?
Nothing made sense.
As he was kissing between the little valley between her covered breasts and inhaling her intoxicating scent it came to him. The most logical explanation. The answer that explained all her actions tonight and the fact that she was here, in the back of the Bass carriage, with the face of New York's most famous playboy and man-whore buried between her virginal breasts and panting wantonly. Chuck knew from personal experience that when people were going through a hard time they often sought physical pleasure as a compensation of the disastrous and conflicting feelings they had at the moment. He had done so himself several times; hell, every time he hit a rough patch with his permanently disappointed and unaffectionate father he drank himself to stupor and then proceeded to participate in one of his infamous orgies. His best guess at the the reason Blair, the Queen of the UES and the always prim and proper society lady, was engaging in these indecorous activities… and with him of all people was that she probably needed to feel better. She had never really trusted him, she hadn't gotten into his carriage because she understood how much he sincerely cared for her but because she meant to use him, the way he used whores for his diversion. She was probably feeling too numb, too caught up with grief over her fiancée's disappearance, that she felt the need to seek for a thrill, which would explain what she had been doing at Victrola earlier. Then, she had felt the need to make herself forget somehow, find a distraction. Which he had unknowingly provided. She probably thought that he would keep silent about this, knowing he whored his was around the city every night and assuming he would just consider her another of his affairs. He was ever so wrong. She was using him to soothe her pain and forget about Nathaniel. The knowledge of that sent a stab to his heart, an organ he didn't know was even functional anymore.
Chuck was not sure of how or what to feel. It was true. She was using him but, he had to admit, he was also using her. She had already managed to unlock a level of pleasure and arousal unknown to him completely. And when she had pressed her lips against his it had been like having his very dreams come true. Hell that bloody woman was driving him crazy. She was unlike any other. She was amazing and he knew that he should probably just forget the negative side and relish in the fact that it was him she had chosen to pleasure her. He would never admit to anyone just how much pleasure he was getting from just watching her squirm under him and listening to her little breathy moans in his ear, whispering his name, begging for more. He now got a sick pleasure from giving her what he had figured he wanted and hurting himself in the process. Chuck knew she was dangerously close and wanted to gift her with this little thing before he left for good to tend to his wound like the hurt beast he was.
Chuck was disillusioned that while he was unlocking and reveling in levels of pleasure previously unknown to him, she was probably relishing on being able to feel ecstasy that distracted her from her current painful situation. That knowledge was what finally made him stop but not after getting a last feel of her perfect round mounds and her hardened peaks covered by the dress. He held her mounds for a moment, almost reverently, and ever so gently squeezed while he buried his lips in the sweet spot at her neck again. At that her body quivered and she breathed her name ever so lustfully and shook in pleasure quietly. He bit her ivory neck, hard. He wanted to leave a mark. Chuck Bass wanted Blair to wake up tomorrow and be able to see the mark and remember him and be able to remember that, even if for only some minutes, she had been his. He refused to watch her pleasured face though his body screamed for him to do it. He could not. He finally got away from her and out of the carriage, the cold air hitting his body and sobering his thoughts. He paced around, trying to clear his head. Now that she had gotten what she wanted for him it was time to let her go for good. But he wouldn't show her how much she hurt him. He always had the upper hand, and that meant playing the role expected of him: the womanizer, the shameless heir, the bad guy.
Blair came down with a crash, all the while with Chuck Bass' name caught between her swollen, ruby lips. It had been wonderful, magnificent, splendid, glorious. Everything that she never thought she could feel. She had never known such things could happen between a man and a woman, she'd never suspected so much passion could be found and how it could elicit such wonderful sensations within her body. She still felt tingly and, still with her eyes closed, reached for him, to caress him, to be engulfed in his warmth once again, to have him hold her… but found nothing. She slowly blinked and opened her eyes. As her eyes finally adjusted to the dim interior of the carriage, she realized he was nowhere to be seen, he wasn't with her anymore. At that moment, she felt the door on her side opening and cold air cruelly hitting the skin of her neck, still moist from her passionate encounter with the city's most experienced man in the arts of love. She gazed at him with hooded eyelids, her pretty cheeks flooding with color and her chest heaving. Blair was feeling wanton. When he didn't match her ardor, for the life of her, she couldn't understand why. His eyes were dark, but not with lust like before; they were bottomless black pits, very cold, hard and cruel. His heavy brow was furrowed in a scowl and he didn't look at her in the eyes. Blair watched as Chuck held a hand for her and took it hesitatingly, uncomprehending. He encased her small hand in his bigger one and fought the urge to pull her towards him and claim her mouth once again. Instead, he bit his tongue and focused all his willpower on not touching her more than was necessary. He had to remember she was a temptress who was only using him for her own pleasure, not caring about how he felt. Not caring about his feelings. His feelings? Chuck Bass had no feelings. What was going on? Why did he care so much about this woman and her motives? He had never had those kinds of questions torment him before; it was him who had a no-feelings rule for every relationship, for every fruitless encounter. That was the most fundamental principle of his lifestyle. How could Blair Waldorf affect him so much?
Blair finally got out of the carriage. She felt used. And cheap. He was seemingly throwing her out after having his way with her. She thought she had the upper hand, she thought she was seducing him when it had always been the other way around… and now that he finally got some of what he wanted from her he was throwing her out like a common harlot. She felt so dumb, a feeling she had never experienced before and hated herself for her weakness and her body for betraying her. However, she set her face in a blank mask and built up her usual wall of property and coldness. Blair Waldorf was never weak and never used as a pawn and if Chuck Bass thought he could use her and expose her, then he was very wrong.