I don't own the rights to any of these characters. The Vampire Dairies and its creators own the rights to these characters.

This is a Damon and Elena only story. There's no Kathrine, no Stefan, and no Caroline. All other characters used in this story are manifestations of my own free mind.

Prologue

Life is like a virtual rollercoaster. Now, there isn't actually a train or even any tracks. But it's still full of ups and downs, twists and turns, and the best ones. The most thrilling ones have a few loopity loops. Just to keep it interesting.

Mine on the other hand was as adrenaline free as they come, a flat track with only a slight bit of a curve every now and then. The death of my mother more than six years ago was the biggest thing to happen to me in my twenty-six years. My life had been a pretty smooth ride. My mother made sure of that at any cost. Even after her death, my life remained a smooth ride. See saw to it.

She taught me that if you can't control it, you shouldn't let it control you and that life is as smooth and as flawless as you make it. Since then I've spent most of my nights, weekends and any free time that I had here, in the one place that control is never frowned upon. In fact it's praised.

I've been coming to this particular club for the better half of two years, since I transferred to UCSD. I was happy when my old club administrator was able to give me the recommendation, bypassing the mandatory background check and waiting list.

But, after five years in the club scene this was the first application I've filed to a submissive. My heart dropped into my stomach when I heard that he was accepting applications for a new submissive. He hadn't taken a Sub since she left and he hadn't collared anyone since I've been a member.

He spent as much time at the club as I did, if not more. He never spent more than a single night with the same female. Some night, most night, not sharing time with any women at all, only watching, and I spent my nights watching him. I didn't always watch him, but there became a point when watching anyone else just didn't do it for me anymore. I knew then that it was him, that he was the only one I could submit for. The only one I'd be able to surrender to and seek enjoyment from it.

So, I waited and waited. I knew the time would come again that he'd need someone to submit to him and only him. All Dom's have that need to possess someone, solely for their own pleasure. Finally that need has consumed him once again. Now I just need him to want to consume me in that same way.

Chapter 1

My heart's been beating out of my chest since I received the call this morning, confirming the second stage of the application process. Dinner, limits, and talk of the needs of both the Dom and the Sub.

"Ms. Gilbert." A tall, well-dressed man with salt and pepper hair and marble like orbs calls out my name from the end of the bar. He isn't who I've been expecting. He must have been disappointed by what he'd seen and sent the suit to send me on my way. I do my best to stand tall and steady on wobbly legs. Pulling some cash out of my clutch, I toss it down on the bar top next to my half full tumbler. I make my way over to the older gentleman.

"I at least thought he would be gentlemen enough to take me to dinner before turning me away," I harp at the older man. It's not his fault but I need someone to take it out on.

He doesn't even raise an eyebrow at snide commit. "Ms. Gilbert if you'd please allow me to escort you to the car…"

"No, I'm good," I cut him off before he can finish his statement. "I have my own driver, thank you."

No curves, there are no curves in my track. I will not allow this to put a curve, a loop or even a slight downward hill on my track. It's fine, there are other Dom's out there, other clubs. I'll wait. I'll find another Dom that pecks my interest.

My strides are short, neat, and unrushed in my tight navy pencil skirt and five-inch black stilettos. My feet hit the edge of the curb and he's still behind me. Then he's gone. The door to the town car directly in front of me opens and there he is in front of me. His hand out reached, his eyes down cast. "Did you change your mind on dinner Mrs. Gilbert?" He never lifts his eyes to me. He just waits for me to take his hand.

The elder gentleman that was sent to collect me rounds the front of the car and steps into the driver seat. I lower my eyes to the dirty city street. Showing him that I can submit to him, no matter what my words are about to tell him. "Stage two. Is a public dinner to discuss needs, limits and boundaries."

"Ms. Gilbert, you can get in my car or you can get in yours. However my car will be driving away with or without you in the next ten seconds and if you're not in this vehicle this will be the last time that we meet." His blue orbs finally locking on my downcast ones.

I'm his. There's no question about it as soon as those blue spheres are pointed in my direction. I'm melting, bowing, for him, to him. My hand reaches for his without having to think twice about it, my body sliding in next to his in his slick town car.

When he leans across me to pull the car door closed, I'm enveloped in his scent. He's not dowsed in cologne. He smells heady, clean. Like shampoo, body wash, and sex. Arousal, the car is filled with the scent of his arousal. Or is that mine?

"Where are we going?" I question him when he returns to his seat a full body's length away from me.

"Dinner," his one word answer all I get.

"Did you not approve of the restaurant?" I question again.

His gaze is upon the passing city, outside his tinted window. "I don't dine out with my Subs," he pauses. Keeping his head turned towards the window, he drops his head slightly and he regards me from under his thick lashes. "Or potential Subs," he continues. "But we'll get to that when we go over limits and needs." His gaze is back to the window and that's the end of that conversation and all conversation.

The silence is killing me. It's deafening. "Do you not talk to your Subs or potential Subs either?"

"Subs aren't needed for conversation. If I wanted someone to talk to I would date. So, no I don't feel the need to socialize with them or with you for that matter."

The car comes to a halt and Mr. Salvatore waste no time exiting the car. There's no awaiting hand for me when my door opens and Mr. Salvatore is already making his way towards the well lite house. I wouldn't be joining him. I decide in that moment. He's not the same man who I have watched in the club for the last two years. Something is different and I'm assuming it's just me. Perhaps I rub him the wrong way. However, I don't need for him to continue his verbal assault on me to know that I'm not what he's seeking. No matter how much I want him to be what I need.

"Ms. Gilbert, are we really going to play this game again?" He stops his movement but he doesn't turn back to look at me. He has his hands inside in slacks pockets, causing his pressed grey suit jacket to bunch at the bottom.

"I'm not here to play game." I don't address him by name because I haven't been informed as to what he prefers to be addressed as and I have no plans to find out either. "I think it's safe to say that this was a mistake. It's clear that we aren't a match."

He doesn't respond, turn or notion that he heard me.

"If you could please have your driver return me to my car, I would greatly appreciate it."

He begins to move towards the house, his narrow hips moving with purpose as he gets closer to the front door. "Eric, will drive you home after dinner," he shouts but even as he shouts it's as if there is little effect to bring his voice up that high.

"Ms. Gilbert," whom I'm come to relieve is Eric whispers to me. "I won't be driving you anywhere until after your dinner. So, unless you want to sit out here and wait for your driver at make the forty-five minute drive out here. I suggest that you join Mr. Salvatore for dinner in the main house."

"He's not as bad as me seems," he informs me when I stay planted in the car. Eric reached his hand out and waits for me to take it.

"If I leave here in tears, I'm blaming you," I give him a weary look. "And I haven't cried in almost six years. So, it will be a good one."

"I'll hold all the blame," he says holding his left hand to his heart. I reach for his out reached right hand. "Good night, Ms. Gilbert," he says as re releasing my hand.

"Aren't you coming in?" Suddenly I'm scared to go into the house alone.

"No. Mr. Salvatore will call me when you're ready to go home. I'll be seeing you soon." I raise one eyebrow at him. "I assure you."

"Good night, Eric."