Hi there - I warn you now, this story is going to be totally mental and will cover everything and every character. Maybe even a couple of pairings you don't expect. There will be sex, death, bloodletting, threesomes, slash, the works! All the key characters will be in here somewhere - eventually. Ultimately its about Damon and Elena, but there will be chapters about Stefan too and what he gets up to (and who he gets up to it with).

This first chapter is plenty lemony... and is a hint of what is to come.

If you want to follow me on Twitter, please do - I am silverfoxpunk. I chat about what I am reading and writing and vampire stuff I am watching. I may give some hints of where this story is going too!

Chapter One

Satin

For two days she said very little. He mostly sat with her, or made her coffee, or tried to get her to eat. Neither of them felt very positive. Stefan was gone and it seemed hopeless to try and find him until he gave them some sense of where he was.

On the third day, he knocked on his brother's bedroom door. He let himself in and she was still in bed. She seemed to be retreating inside herself. He sat down beside her and felt for her hand.

"I'd like to take you away from here, just for a little bit." He said, but she shook her head.

"No, I ought to be here."

"That's what cell phones were invented for. I promise, if he calls, or anyone else who says that they have seen him, I'll bring you back right away."

"I can't just leave. I can't just run away." He got up and walked to the door.

"Please, just think about it."

The book was Stephen King's latest, something light and engaging which didn't require anything other than his ability to be entertained, but despite that he still couldn't concentrate on it. He kept playing his shifting relationship with Elena over and over again in his mind. He had re-read the same passage of the book three times and still hadn't taken in a single word, so he was almost grateful when he heard Elena's light tap on his door.

He got up and let her in.

She walked past him into the centre of his room, wearing the same clothes she had done for the past three days. She had her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Finally she turned to face him. Her face was the picture of every emotion he could imagine.

"You'll come?" He asked. She nodded, her eyes telling him that she had a thousand reasons not to, but she needed it more than anything.

On the plane, she was quiet. She looked out of the window and had to be asked three times for anything the stewards needed her attention for. He left her alone, even though he wondered why they had bothered with the first class luxury she was failing to enjoy.

Never mind, at least they were away from their respective houses, both filled with memories and a bitter sense of loss. At least now, her eyes wouldn't fill with hope any time any Tom, Dick or Sally came to the door.

He walked outside to get her, but paused when he saw her silhouetted against the setting sun. Her slender body was dressed in a bright turquoise bikini and orange floral sarong she had bought at the airport. How impossibly beautiful she looked, even when shuttered in grief. He continued towards her, his heart aching with the longing that he had long since grown used to suppressing.

"Enjoying the sunset?" He asked quietly so as not to startle her, for she was lost in her thoughts.

She nodded, but without warning tears came and although she brushed them hurriedly away with the heel of her hand, her pain could not be hidden. He moved slowly to her side and put his hands on her face - brushed the tears from her cheeks. He looked at her, his love undisguised and intense when he knew it should be otherwise. She turned and stumbled back into their shared suite, her arms defaulting to their preferred position of being wrapped tightly around herself. He kicked himself mentally and went after her.

"Elena…" He called out, but she had retreated to the bathroom. He rested his forehead against the door. "Elena please come out. Come and talk to me."

"Leave me alone, Damon."

There was no malice in her voice, just tired resignation. He tried the door and found it unlocked. He suspected she wanted him to follow, even if the admission was subconscious. He entered the stylish bathroom - all polished slate and tile in muted shades. It was decorated with a vase of exotic orange flowers whose tropical brightness reminded them how far they were from Mystic's familiar streets.

She was sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi bath, her head held low. He took one of the flowers from the vase and went and crouched in front of her. He rested his free hand on her knees; she didn't look at him.

"Come outside with me."

He looked at the flower in his hand. It was so vibrant, so eyecatching - whenever he came into the room his eye was drawn it - it reminded him of her. He pushed the stem into her hand and she took it reluctantly, resting it in her lap. She refused to let her eyes meet his. He raised himself up and sat beside her. "Come on. Take a walk with me." Eventually, when she didn't reply he took her hand and lead her slowly from the bathroom.

He took her down past the end of their garden, onto the white sand of the hotel's private beach. She clutched at the stem of the flower he had given her while her other hand rested tentatively in his.

He could sense her reluctance to be present, to live in the moment. He didn't want that for her. She was too young to have a life ruined by grief. Walking her to the water's edge they let the sea drift across their feet. Maybe the sensation would help bring her back to the world. Maybe...

For a while, it felt good just to walk in comfortable silence, he didn't want to push her to open up to him even though he knew he wanted her to. She was holding so much in. He took her beyond the boundaries of the hotel's private beach and on to the more crowded public beach. The sun-seekers were packing up for the night and drifting back to their hotels just in time for happy-hour. The sun's glaring heat had passed and had settled into a mellow, tropical warmth. Sounds of the night began to fill the air; from the music and chatter of the exclusive beachfront restaurants, to the gentle sound of the tide washing over the sand.

Elena paused, looked up as if she had only just noticed that they were here together walking along the beach.

"Are you cold?" He asked her. She shook her head, then willing took his hand again.

They continued on until they reach a jetty. The fishermen who sat there in the day had long since gone. Together they strolled to the end of it and sat down with their feet dangling above the water, feeling the rough wooden slats beneath them. They looked out to the distant horizon and the lights of cruise ships.

"Thank you Damon, for bringing me here."

"You're welcome." He said, he tried not to let his concern show on his face. He paused for a while, then thought it was time he opened up the Pandora's box to see what came out. "It's okay, you can talk about him you know. I know how much you miss him."

"Do you miss him too?" She asked. He thought about that for a while.

"Yeah, I guess I do."

"Will he come home?"

"I don't know. Maybe." He never sugar coated the truth with her. He felt she deserved better than that. She fiddled with the flower in her lap. "Elena, can I ask you something?" He said suddenly. She looked at him and nodded. "If you love him, why don't you want to turn for him? You know that's what he wants. He's crazy about you."

"I just want to live my life for a bit. I meet this amazing guy, it turns out he's a vampire, and suddenly my life is upside down and I'm in this whole mess, and I just don't know who I am anymore. Who am I, Damon?"

He looked at her, his eyes capturing the light.

"To him, or to me?" He said, cautiously.

She got up suddenly and he watched her examine the flower in her hand.

"Damon, I never wanted to mislead you. If coming here was a mistake, then..."

"No, its fine." He had to change the subject, this was too damn painful. And worse, it made him think of Katherine, 'it was always Stefan'.

She didn't speak. He let the silence grow until it became comfortable again. The sea breeze blew on their faces and the water appeared threaded with silver reflections from the glow of the enormous moon that had taken the place of the sun. A fish leapt from the water, she saw it and almost smiled, which in turn made him smile.

"Do you think Jenna would have liked it here?" She looked down at him quizzically, surprised that he would even have asked her that. "Tell me about her." He continued. "What was she like when you and Jeremy were growing up?"

She had sat down again, and they talked for a while until she gradually opened up. She told him that she worried Jeremy would go back to drink and drugs, that she was afraid they were both flunking school and that she couldn't sleep at night for thinking about all the legal paperwork waiting for her back home. She said she was worried because she hadn't yet turned eighteen, and that meant another legal guardian for them both. It was clear to him that losing Jenna had brought rushing back all the grief and loss she felt at her parents passing. In particular, she missed her mom, and felt bereft without the presence of a strong, nurturing woman in her life. In short, she felt she was cast away at sea without her anchor, Stefan, who was possibly in the greatest trouble he ever had been. She felt dead inside, she said. Dead and buried. It grieved him more than he cared to admit it to hear her say that.

Finally she stood, and after a moment she carefully dropped the flower he had given her into the water and watched it float away. She turned her back on it, and began to walk back to the hotel.

It was late, how late was hard to tell. The moon lit up his room like a nightlight and had done for hours. He lay awake with his arms behind his head - his mind refusing to let him rest. He reflected on the supper they had eaten in the hotel; it was seafood cooked to perfection, with a thousand little chef's flourishes that underlined the hotel's status as the best on the island, but Elena had eaten on autopilot. He doubted she had tasted a single thing.

He left his French windows open so the night air would fill his room and drift over his body. The scent of evening honeysuckle entered in, its perfume heavy in the air. Since they had arrived it was like all his vampire senses had magnified. He ran his hand over the pristine, white sheets and brought his fingers to his nose - he couldn't just smell the powder they were cleaned with, but could identify the person who had made his bed. He didn't know why. All he knew was that without even concentrating, he could smell a barbecue from the hotel over a mile away.

As the scents of the brazier, meat, fish and herbs lingered, he realized that this is what he could do for Elena. No-one was more qualified than him in enjoying the delights the world had to offer. He made a decision not to rest until she experienced the island with all of her senses, until she was alive in every way possible.

Just as he formulated his plan, his hearing picked up that Elena had left her bedroom. He pulled a sheet over the lower half of his body in an instinctive reaction to her wandering around their shared suite. Even so, he was still faintly surprised when he heard her pad barefoot over to his door and gently knock on it. Before he could answer, she opened the door a crack and peeped in. He raised himself off his pillow and looked at her. "Hello?" He said simply, his intrigue at her coming to his room so late registering in his voice.

She walked into the room and came over to his bed where she perched beside his feet. His senses were so fine-tuned to her usual scent, that he knew straight away had she used a different body creme to normal. She wore an expensive looking pink satin short set that clung where it touched and her chestnut hair was neatly tucked behind her ears. The camisole had a little tiny bow in the middle, which drew his attention to her chest. He tore his eyes away.

"I couldn't sleep. I thought you may be awake too." She said. He tried to take his mind off how little those lace trimmed shorts left to his imagination by offering her a drink - a safe go-to response when a visitor was in his room.

"Would you like a nightcap?"

"Sure, why not."

"Hmm, you may have to get it yourself - unless you don't mind gratuitous nudity." She gave him a half smile.

"I'm sure I can manage." She got up and found the drinks cabinet, negotiating bending carefully without revealing more than she intended to. As a gentleman he tore his eyes away (perhaps a second later than he ought).

She fixed them both vodka tonics and brought his glass over to him, the ice clinking as she walked. They touched glasses as was customary, then drank in silence. Maybe it was the hour, or maybe it was because he felt rather more naked than he was entirely comfortable with - but he could swear blind that she was feeling more confident in this situation than he was.

Elena moved around the bed and climbed up beside him. She sat with her back resting against the elegant headboard and sipped the remains of her drink, occasionally casting her eyes towards him. He tried not to notice that the satin clung to her body like a survivor to a shipwreck. The cool air in the room had hardened her nipples and they showed through the fabric with insistence. He was so confused. He was expectant, anxious and aroused all at once. He turned away and tried to think calming thoughts. Eventually he felt it was safe to look at her again, but as soon as he met her big brown eyes, his stomach turned somersaults. He wished he just had the presence of mind to send her away when she first arrived, because having her here like this was hell.

Suddenly she leaned over and took his drink from him which she placed on his beside table. She looked at him then moved closer, got up and straddled him, leant back onto his hips and pinned him beneath the sheet.

"Elena -" he began with worry in his voice. God, he wasn't made of stone. He had to tell her she needed to leave. Right now.

She pushed a fallen strand of her dark hair back in place behind her ear and looked at him, her face deadly serious. He returned her gaze, his eyes expressing in equal measures his shock and hope. The next thing he felt was her lips on his. They were as soft as a peach. Her hair fell forward and tickled his chest like a thousand silken threads. He didn't know what to do with his hands, he wanted to touch her but he was afraid that if he did, it would ruin everything because when she changed her mind - which she surely would - he would feel bad. But far from changing her mind, she was leaning down and kissing him again. Her embrace both sweet and tentative. She placed her hands gently on his chest as she leaned into him. When he barely responded she paused and looked into his eyes, wondering why he wasn't kissing her back. Her fingers trailed down to his stomach as she leaned back. He was scared to react. He needed to know what had changed.

"I hurt in so many ways," she said by way of explanation, "but the way I feel about you - it only hurts when I deny it." She blinked back tears. "I need you, Damon, and I love you. I don't want to hide that any more." She traced a line across his navel. "This is the one thing in my life I can change. And I want to, because I want to be with you. And I know you love me too."

Her face was a mixture of emotions; desire certainly, but also relief at admitting to herself what she had long since known, but kept buried. He could sense she was nervous too, perhaps scared that he would reject her and tell her to leave.

She seemed to make a decision then. And although she was almost visibly shaking with nerves, she leaned back and slowly pulled the camisole from her body, dropping it to ground so that her long, beautiful hair spilled over her shoulders as she did so. She was stunning. From the curve of her breasts, to her navel which peeped above the rim of her satin shorts, she was absolutely perfect. She looked again at him anxiously, her chest rising and falling with anxious breaths, wanting to see in his eyes what she hoped was there.

He didn't need any more encouragement. He reached up for her and slid his hands around her waist until he was pulling her down to him for a long, deep and desperate kiss. He let one hand wind through her sleek hair and the other he slid down her back to her behind, which he gripped firmly and pulled her against him, his hand sliding beneath the satin and on to her warm flesh. His body quivered beneath hers, his senses took all of her in.

He couldn't believe it. At long last she was with him, and wanted him as much as he wanted her. It felt like his body was on fire, but he was still a little afraid that she would change her mind, so he let her set the pace. Her kiss became urgent as her body pressed down against his. She eventually pulled her lips away from him and began to use them to trail kisses down his chest. He breathed hard. She moved her legs so she could pull the sheet away from what it barely covered already. He was straining hard to be inside her. At that moment, he wanted nothing else.

She took him into her mouth and he arched his back, his body growing rigid and his muscles taut. She didn't hold anything back. She gripped him with her hand and used her tongue, slipping it around him, up and down his shaft until he moaned. She took him again into her mouth, taking him all in, then ran her hands up and down his glistening, moist skin, tugging and putting pressure on when pressure was needed, then tracing lightly with her finger or her tongue when it was not. At one point she caught his glance and smiled at him as best she could, and he nearly came right there and then.

Seeing him so caught up in what she was doing gave her almost as much pleasure as it did him; he was so lost in the sensations she was giving to him. She licked, stroked and sucked him to the absolute edge, and he writhed and gripped the sheets in response. The unrestrained, guttural sounds leaving his throat shocked them both. In her hands he felt exposed; his reaction to her unexpectedly truthful. He coveted her affection, touch and love more than anyone, even his once beloved Katherine.

He was losing control and threatening to come. She sensed it and moved back up the bed so she could kiss him. As she lay on top of him, their legs intertwined, he pushed down her satiny shorts in one easy movement. She straddled him once more, and guided him into her. As she slid onto his length and he was finally inside her, both of them cried out. She was so wet, she almost came. She placed both her hands on his abdomen and began to move, rocking her hips gently, back and forth, back and forth.

"Do you know what you do to me?" He half whispered, half growled as he grabbed her thighs and elevated his hips from the bed and pressed into her. Soon her gentle movement wasn't enough for him. He could stand it no more and flipped her onto her back, wanting to be as deep inside her as he could.

She wrapped her legs tightly around him, sighs escaping her lips that let him know when to push harder, or when to move slow and teasingly. He took his weight onto his arms, and she traced her hands over them and behind his neck, pulling him down for kisses, sighing into his mouth as he moved inside her. It took a lot of his self-control to withdraw from her body, but he wanted to slow things down and give her at least half as much of the pleasure as she had given him.

He took each of her breasts into his mouth one by one and licked at the hardened nipples. Teasing, sucking and flicking his tongue until he made her writhe with satisfaction and cry out for him to be inside her again. Instead he kissed her body, letting his lips brush what his hands then kneaded, until he had covered every beautiful part of her, from the tender skin of her armpit to the soft sweet place on her hip that made her shiver when he brushed across it. The deep musky smell of her arousal sent him into the stratosphere. Her femoral artery pulsed wildly beside him, but he was so caught up in her body, that he barely noticed. Between her legs he took her into his mouth and tasted her, a thousand senses overcoming him.

As his tongue flicked across her mound with increasing intensity she came, her legs twitching, her toes extended. He pushed his fingers inside of her and let his thumb take the place of his tongue and she came again, rolling her shoulders back into the bed and grabbing at the pillows either side of her head until she begged him to stop because she couldn't take it any more.

He moved back above her, kissed her long and deep, and then entered her once more. His tongue explored hers as her hands pulled him ever closer into her body. He slipped his hand between her legs as he thrust inside of her, rubbing at that sweet bundle of nerves so she would come again at the same time as he did. Being so close to her, and seeing her respond to him like this meant he couldn't hold back any more, and he came himself with a cry. She called out his name as she came with him for the third and final time - her body trembled with ecstasy.

He collapsed, remaining inside her, their legs entangled, their bodies glistening. She was glowing, her cheeks rosy from the exertion. He kissed her throat gently. It was a minute or two before he could formulate words again, but when he could, he knew what he had to ask her.

"Elena, please just tell me. Tomorrow, does all this go away? Because I'm not sure I can handle that." She shook her head slowly.

"I wouldn't do that to you." She said. He felt the relief immediately. He pulled closer into her arms. "You didn't change..?" She said, surprised. "I thought you would."

"I feel human around you." He said in an unguarded moment, then immediately regretted his honesty. She knew he wished he hadn't said it, so she held him even tighter and planted a dozen small kisses on nearest bit of him she could reach.

"I am happy I do that for you." She said. "I want to be there for you, like you have been for me."

He made a sound that suggested she was being overly generous. He had hurt her many times.

"You have been!" She argued.

"Apart from the times when I hurt you."

"Well, I hurt you too." She said. He went quiet. "Okay then, so let's make a pact." She suggested. "Clean slate. From this moment on."

"I can do that." He said, then eventually gave her a look of mild concern. "Don't you want to sleep?" She shook her head.

"No, I've slept enough. I don't want to waste another minute of my time with you." He shifted to make them both more comfortable, but kept her in his arms. He looked into her eyes and felt himself smile. He leaned against her forehead and their noses met tip to tip.

"I want to know you Damon. The real you I mean."

"Sounds like a bad idea."

"Just tell me one thing about yourself that I don't know." She insisted, brushing her nose against his. He sighed good-naturedly.

"Okay. One thing. What do you want to know?"

"What was your favorite thing to do when you were human?" He leaned back on his pillow as he thought about that.

"Well, I always liked music." He said. "My father thought music was a pointless, frivolous affair - the pursuit of silly women. But my mother, who loved music too, let me take lessons whenever he was out. I guess that's where I got it from. She had a good voice. Sometimes we'd sing together."

"What can you play?"

"Piano, violin to some extent. And I can hold a tune I suppose. Later, I learned to play guitar after a brief but torrid time I spent in Cuba in the sixties. And then there was a misspent flirtation with a Goth band in Seattle." He shook his head with a smile as he remembered that.

"A Goth band!" She giggled. "Where you any good?"

"You said 'one thing'. That's two." She snuggled back into his arms and he kissed the crown of her head. "I still can't believe you are here." He added. "I keep expecting to wake up."

"Kiss me," she said, "and I'll prove it to you."

He did so willingly and soon one kiss lead to another, and very soon he was moving inside her again.

As the sunrise bled through his window, she came with a happy sigh. He stroked her face and whispered to her that he loved her. She fell back onto the pillows, but he took her hand and encouraged her to stand.

"Where are you taking me?" She said, reluctant as he tried to lead her from the bed. "My legs are shaking."

"Just to the window."

"Damon, I need a shower." She complained.

"Just for a minute. Please, come watch the sunrise with me." As she was surprised at the request, she let him lead her towards the window. She stood in front of it with him behind her, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her body and placed his cheek against hers. "I never miss a sunrise if I can help it."

"Really?"

"We aren't supposed to look into the eye of the thing that should kill us. I treat it with the respect it deserves."

She examined his hand which had the enchanted ring on it and ran her finger over the stone.

"I never thought of it that way," she admitted "but I do often worry about how we put so much faith in a little thing like this to keep you all safe. When I get back, I'm going to ask Bonnie to find a spell that protects the wearer, not the object."

"She won't do it."

"She will - for Caroline."

"You three are inseparable aren't you?" She nodded.

"They're my sisters. We'll always be there for each other. I can't tell you how many times we have fallen out, but we always make up because life without each other would be unbearable."

They grew quiet and watched as the spectacular sunrise filled the room.

"Are you happy?" She asked.

"What do you think?" He said and held her tight. "But I'll be honest Elena, I don't know where you want things to go from here."

If you want to know what Elena's short set looks like, its the Myla one called Isabella. You can Google it.

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