Desire In The Dark

TITLE: Desire In The Dark

AUTHOR: Midknight

CHAPTER: 1 of 1

FANDOM: Gossip Girl

SHIP: Blair / Chuck

RATING: NC-17

CATEGORY: Erotica

SPOILERS: Season 2 - A couple.

SYNOPSIS: WARNING: HERE BE SPOILERS - SEASON 2, EPISODE 3. When the lights go out, other things shine brighter. What might have happened between Blair and Chuck during the black out?

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gossip Girl. None of these characters belong to me. They belong to whoever created them and whoever else does. I pay homage to them and I make no profit from this story in any fashion, way or means.

AUTHORS NOTE: I apologize before hand and hope you will forgive any errors or blatant discrepancies. This is now officially the longest thing I've ever written.

FEEDBACK: Yes Please. It helps. It really, really helps. - midknight_tales@yahoo.com

Blair walked up the stairs without looking back, the candle she carried chasing away the darkness and leaving the shadows behind her. "Damn Chuck Bass. Damn him to hell." She thought viciously as she walked into her room. She put the candle down on her bedside table where it cast a small pool of soft light. Marcus' lack of more physical amorous attentions had her riled up in the summer heat and then run ins with both Chuck and then Catherine. It was just all too much. She wasn't doing this because of him or that bitch Catherine. She wished Marcus would hurry. She really did need him, she wanted...

"Damn him." She whispers into the darkness as his chiseled, hawk-like features, dark eyes and full lips framed by artfully unruly dark curls flashes before her eyes. She can still feel his touch, his warm breath on her neck and cheek, his smug masculinity looming over her, his deep voice insinuating itself into her consciousness as he asked her about the sex life she fabricated between herself and Marcus. The way his fingers felt on her skin and then twined with hers at her side invoked sensual memories she had unsuccessfully tried to bury. And, then he'd made that completely inappropriate suggestion.

She'd had to fake revulsion and shock as his words registered and her body reacted with excitement and arousal. He wanted to have sex with her, just one more time, he said. It is what he needed, he said. He needed her and it sent an unexpected thrill through her. Her act was not complete and he called her on it and she made a show of shaking her hand free of his although she was the one holding it. She'd glared at him and made a hasty retreat because his expression was just all too knowing. She needed Chuck and Catherine to be wrong.

She half turned towards her door as it opens and then shuts "Marcus, is that you?" she queries. "Blow out your candle." A male, English accented voice commands, as footfalls move towards her in the velvety black. She frowns slightly, but does as he asked and the little island of light vanishes in a wisp of smoke. The darkness is mysterious, welcoming and intimate, exactly what she wants. It will be special. It will be memorable, a memory to replace others that disturb her as much as they arouse her. She stiffens as the scent of sandalwood with undertones of leather and tobacco reached her nose when she feels more than sees the figure stopping mere inches from her, a slightly darker shape against the darkness. It's a smell she associates with the back of a limousine and a night she can never forget, a scent she associates with him.

A gentle, warm hand cups her cheek and his thumb brushes lightly across her lips. She can't quite stifle the sigh that blows her breath hot against his swiping thumb at he all too familiar gesture. She raises her hand to slap him. The person before her definitely not Marcus, of this she is sure. But, her body, already excited with the prospect of what she had set in motion revs into overdrive, keeping her hand from swinging to its target. "Damn him... Damn him to hell." The thought whispers in her mind without spite and with a tinge of surrender. He starts to talk and the hand she had raised to slap him ends up only pressing two fingers across his lips to silence him. His other hand slides along her cheek and burrows into her hair, his thumb sending her headband tumbling onto the top of the bedside table as he cups her head and closes the distance between them showing that his height is wrong too, she notes almost absently. She can feel his desire press against her belly, hot, hard and throbbing and her sex answers with a flooding twist and clenching flex in response.

His lips capture hers and she accepts them eagerly, letting him guide her head as he sucks and licks at her lips until she opens them and their tongues fence before he overruns the ramparts of her teeth and they wrestle in her mouth. She can taste scotch. She hadn't been serving any at the party. He presses against her, rocking his hips, slowly humping the trouser clad bulge of his manhood against her and she grinds back. Her breasts flatten against his chest, her hard nipples pushing back into her firm globes, scraping against the strapless brassier she is wearing under yellow dress, an Eleanor original, with sparks of delightful sensation as he bends her back over the arm he has wrapped around the small of her back.

Her hands scrabble at his hair and neck as she hungrily returns his kiss, battling his tongue in the arena of their joined lips. When he breaks the kiss she feels breathless and a little lightheaded, but he guides her stumbling step until she is leaning again her bedroom wall. His lips drag along her skin, leaving a hot trail as he nibbles at her jaw line before lightly licking and sucking his way down the column of her neck as she tilts her head to give him greater access. His hand slides over her shoulder and pushes the single, broad shoulder strap off, continuing down the rounded curve onto her arm. His touch leaves her skin prickling and then he is peeling the front of her dress down along with the cup of her bra.

Blair doesn't even try to stifle the gasp as she inhales sharply when he captures her hard nipple between his lips and nurses at it. "I should stop this. I'm with Marcus. It might not be perfect, but..." she tells herself and the little kernel of doubt in her mind grows ever so slightly when she can't quite finish the thought. He has done this. It is his fault. She wants to curse him, but all she does is moan as he sucks more of her breast into his mouth and his agile tongue swirls and flicks around her tingling nipple radiate pleasure into her chest, sending her heart racing. One of his hands finds its way under her dress and between her legs, rubbing her through the sodden crotch of her panties. Her hips buck and twitch in response, pressing against his exploring touch, her breath coming in ragged pants as his actions tighten the sweet growing tension in her loins.

His mouth lifts from her breast as he starts to tug at her panties, having to peel the damp lace from her slick, swollen folds. His breath is hot against her lips when they hover in front of them as he straightened. "Take my dick out." He instructs with out guile, the English accent gone, replaced by naked desire as her panties drop to the floor and his fingers find their way inside her. She doesn't mean to, it isn't true until she does, but it slips out. "Chuck." She whispers his name, admitting what she had known all along and throwing away her shield of plausible deniability. He has done this to her. He has changed her irrevocably and she desperately wants to hate him for it, but she can't, even when she told him so straight to his face. He has shown her something, something she cannot quite define, which makes it all the harder to deal with.

She has slept with only one other person, Nathaniel, and it hadn't been the same. It had felt good, but... Not the same, not like with him. Part of the reason she wanted to be more physical with Marcus was to prove that Chuck wasn't the problem. She blamed Nate's inexperience as a plausible excuse, but with Marcus, it could be different. Could, but... With, Marcus her desire was a conscious, thought-through decision, a way to take their relationship to the next level, but with Chuck... With Chuck, her mind had absolutely nothing to do with it. "Oh God!" she groaned.

These thoughts and realizations cascade and bombard her mind, riding on and mixing with the continuous current of swirling pleasure she derives from his fingers sawing in and out of her, caressing just the right spots while his thumb diddles her exposed and throbbing clit; or washed away entirely by it. The same pleasure, robs her of her co-ordination as she fumbles at his belt. Blair let out a short, soft cry as her body shudders and she has a series of mini orgasms. She is grateful for the support of the wall behind her as her knees go a little weak while her sex clenched and flexed around his fingers, finding them a poor substitute for what she seeks in his pants.

She almost woops in triumph when she finally manages to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. The sound of his lowering zipper is a rough sharp noise across their heavy breathing. His boxers are silk, but his shaft is even smoother as she fishes it out of them. She explored his length, letting her fingers wrap around its throbbing girth and slowly run it up and then down. It is his turn to groan against the skin of her breast as his dick twitched while his hips thrust his manhood into her skimming fist.

The bed was right their next to them, but his hand left her sex, making her feel suddenly empty, and joined the other in hiking up her dress and grasping her hips, lifting her. Two thuds echo in the darkness as her shoes slip off her feet as she lifts her legs, wrapping them around his waist. "Had he somehow heard her comment to Marcus about the scene in Atonement." She wonders as his intensions became clear and she knew they had nothing to do with her bed. The thought skittering across her consciousness just before her focus narrows and is consumed with the task of fulfilling her undeniable desire.

Blair holds onto the base of his cock, guiding him. The pointed tip of his dickhead slides through her folds and finds her entrance and then remains poised there. She wonders if he is looking up at her as she looks down at him, the veil of darkness too thick to penetrate even as close as they are. She hears his slow exhale become a hiss to join her hitched breath and sharp gasp as his hands relax and she slowly sinks down onto him. He stretches and fills her, parting her intimate flesh, slowly blazing a trail of fiery friction that ignites the furnace inside her. She clutches at his neck and shoulders, gasping again as he thrusts, speeding the pace of his invasion and finds her core.

He finds her lips as she settles on him. His body pins her to the wall behind her and his hand caress the curves of her ass and the backs of her thighs. He starts to move and what follows is a wild ride of give and take; of thrusting, rolling, rocking, circling hips; grasping hands; sucking lips, nipping teeth and lapping tongues. Her tight flesh floods wet with slippery cream, aiding his driving cock, urging him to go fast, harder and deeper. The wall behind her feels rough as her shoulder blades slide up and down along it. She panted, her breaths growing shorter as they go faster. Her breasts are crushed against his chest and their clothes are a delightful torture as they drag across her swollen, turgid nipples. Every part of her feels alive as the wet sound of their skin colliding again and again and again fills the darkness around them. They don't express their enjoyment, appreciation or emotion with words, but with low, unmistakable sounds and frantic, frenzied actions.

The pressure builds inside her exponentially, the furnace blazing hotter and hotter each time he pierces her core. When they kiss it is short, but intense. His clothes leave her with only his neck as a further source of skin and she takes full advantage of it, tasting salt. The smell of sex envelopes them like a musky, spicy perfume, tantalizing her nose and making her nostrils flare as she tries to draw it all in. They experiment, shifting slightly to explore the full range of their motion as they strain against each other, one-moment eager allies, and the next contesting adversaries.

The ankles she has locked at the small of his back, come undone due to an especially hard thrust that hits that special spot inside her and forces her to muffle her cry in his shirt covered shoulder. A lamp, made useless by the blackout tumbles to the floor with a crash as her foot finds the nightstand and she finds the leverage to finally match him thrust for thrust. Her nails dig into his back through his shirt and she feels his muscles flex as his thrust become shorter, but faster with more grinding.

The fire inside her was becoming all consuming and licked at her nerves and started to scorch her senses. His fingers were ten points of hot pressure as they flex and pull her against him and then the furnace becomes an inferno and her climax sweeps through her like a firestorm. Her sex locked and then rippled around his thick cock, milking him, needing him to join her in release, wanting his seed to cool the raging fire inside her. He grunts, expanding inside her and then adds his essence to the torrent already flooding within her. She can hear her scream of release in her head, but it does not go out into the darkness and she tastes cotton as her teeth clamp down on the corded muscle of his shoulder through his shirt to block it. Her muscles misfire, tensing and relaxing in rapid succession, making her shudder and tremble. Stars and lightning blaze in the darkness and she realized they were playing out on the inside of her tightly shut eyelids, which she doesn't remember closing.

He is still thrusting into her as he climaxes with a rumbling growl and she can almost see his strained features with his clenched jaw and gritted teeth. Each convulsive movement starts another cascade of pleasure sweeping through her, straining already overloaded nerves. She feels like she is hyperventilating as the heavy bursts of ecstasy seem to drive the air from her and the velvety black around them won't give it back. Her blood sings in her ears and her heart hammers at her ribs. He shudders, pressing into her hard as he lets out an explosive breath, making her whimper as a twinge of pain mixes in with her pleasure.

He nuzzles at her neck, his weight resting against her, holding her up and them still as she feels her orgasm start to wane. She feels limp and boneless as the intense energy fades, but is now able to breath again. His breath tickles and a trickle of sweat slides down between her shoulder blades and moments later her cleavage as her chest heaves against his while her strength returned. She felt him start to shrink and her sex unconsciously clenched in an attempt to hold him inside her. It even succeeds for a short while sending delightful echoes of sensation across her over-sensitized system, but eventually nature took its course and he slipped free of her and she feels a sense of loss.

The fog of passion and desire lifted and she realized the gravity what she had just done. "Put me down, Chuck." She requested quietly. "Blair, I..." he starts, but she finds his lips with a finger and presses it over them to silence him. "Please." She simplifies her request and she doesn't take her finger away until her feet are on the ground and she manages to carry her own weight. She isn't ready to deal with him yet. She can hardly process her own feelings and reactions. Blair used her other hand to push him away and she hears him sigh, a resigned, melancholy and Un-Chuck Bass-like sound that makes her want to pull him back, but she doesn't.

She hears him zip up and the tinkle of his belt being buckled and then silence as she slides the shoulder strap of her dress back into place and adjusts her breasts back into her bra before straightening the rest of her dress. "What the hell did I just let happen?" she asks herself, even as she feels the undeniable evidence trickling slowly from her. She attempts to distract herself. Her hair must be a mess, but she can't tell for sure. She needs to get to a bathroom. She finds her shoes with her feet, but not her panties and she is about to bend down to search more thoroughly when the lights come on. She is shocked to find him still standing just inches from her; he had been so silent that she had thought he had left. They stare at each other.

Blair wants to slap him, curse him, to say something vicious and withering. He is not part of her plan, Marcus is. "Where is that smug sneer of his when I need it?" she wonders, looking for something to fuel her anger, but he is just looking at her, his dark eyes soft and imploring, yet at the same time hot and hungry. He is too close, invading her personal space, but she doesn't move. "Chuck..." She started, but he cuts her off by suddenly drawing her against him and her words become a murmur as he once again pressed his lips to hers. Despite all her misgivings she returns his kiss with eager hunger, as if they had not just had passionate sex only moments ago, her body stirring again.

This was what he did to her. Why she hated him. She lost all self-control around him and it truly scared her. She cannot trust herself. It was scary that anyone could do that to her, but it was terrifying that it was Chuck Bass. She started to grind against him and his hands clutch at her as their lips slide together sensuously and their tongues twined sensually. She bent backward under the intensity of his kiss, tightening her grip on him and pushing back to straighten herself and match him.

"Blair?" her name said in Marcus' English accent reaches her ears like a blow and reality and the consequences of her actions crashed in on her. Blair hurriedly broke their kiss, going so far as to roughly push Chuck away as she turned to stare at Marcus with guilty shock and consternation...

THE END