Fifth Night

Summary; Fed up of seeing Elena with his brother, Damon compels nights of pleasure from her.

Rating; M (Sexual and dark themes; may be construed as non-consensual due to compulsion in some areas. If you are sensitive to this, please do not read anything that will upset you.)

Pairing; Damon and Elena (Delena).

Disclaimer; Nothing is mine. I make no profit and play with only borrowed characters.

AN; The dark side of Damon is too enticing to leave untouched. I'm sure, if he let himself... this could have totally happened.

The first night, he'd been miserable. Miserable and wanting, desperate in some respects. Desperate of the ways she'd danced in his every thought, but waltz hand in hand with his brother instead. The first night it was wrong, he knew it was wrong… but anger had boiled over into need, right and wrong had blurred themselves behind an alcoholic buzz.

The second night, he'd said it wouldn't happen again. But so easily he slipped. The second night, it was abuse of power. The fact he could do it again. So easily, so secretly, it was becoming addictive and he had no problem using her for his next high.

The third was just wrong, he felt it in his bones, but he craved it. His ego purred, grinning proudly at his clever secret. He'd walk past his brother and feel a stir inside his blood at the darkness he was harbouring. His anger was gone, now it was just sick pride… and his addiction would know no difference.

The fourth night, he was locked in habit. She gave him what he needed, and he came back for it like clockwork.

It was no surprise that he found himself back in her room on the fifth night, no shame to touch him as he sneaked through her window and unfastened the locket from her sleeping form. He felt no dishonour as he watched her chest rise and fall in sleep, brushing fallen hair from her face.

She stirred slowly, her body curling towards him as it did every night when it thought he was Stefan.

Damon felt his grin curl back on his lips. Excitement bubbled.

She was his.

For tonight, if nothing else.

A soft, contented sigh slipped her pale pink lips. Those damn lips that haunted him, those lips that would press to his brother's instead of his, those damn lips woke him in the middle of sleep with painful tightness in his groin. Those damn lips.

Elena turned closer to the figure on her bed, no doubt expecting to find Stefan in the darkness, to hold him closer while she slept. All too soon she'd find the body atop the duvet rather than inside and open her eyes just that little.

Damon stroked his fingers down her cheek, marvelled by the silky softness of her skin, the flushed warmth, the responsiveness of her body as she curled closer to him.

Something paused her though, maybe it was his smell, maybe the texture of his touch… maybe it was just the resistance of the duvet. But she stopped and cracked open her eyes just the slightest. Her brain picked out the features of Damon and her eyes flashed wide.

It was meant to go like every other night. He'd pull words of adoration from her compelled mind, he'd have her in his arms, covering his body with her kisses. He'd strip her clothes from her and fuck her until she called his name. But… tonight was different. Damon was bothered by the memories of the day, haunted by the images of his night-time bride doting too sweetly on his brother, glaring at him when he passed by.

Maybe it was the realization of the truth, maybe it was guilt catching up… or maybe, the liquor he'd drown his sorrows in was still swimming in his mind.

Brown eyes flashed to his filled with worry.

"Damon?" she whispered, then sat up, one hand rubbing her eyes. "Why are you here? What happened? Is Stefan alright?" Immediately she scanned him for blood or singe from whatever hellfire was surely raining down on them.

"No… everything is as it should be." But the words were sombre.

"Damon?" She couldn't stop the care that inflected her voice. Stefan had told her his brother was acting erratic recently… her fingers went to the necklace, as they so often did when Stefan came to her mind. "Damon, where's my locket?!"

"It's safe."

But the words didn't have the smirk that the other nights possessed, there was no taunt, no tease. The words were reluctant. Damon looked to his addiction, saw the raging questions cross her features and stopped it quickly. He couldn't take any more hate from her, not today.

"You're mine." The words titled a host of underlying compulsions he'd settled her with on the first day. The summary; she belonged to Damon, she loved Damon. And the punchline; when she slept, she forgot the entire thing until the words were compelled into her again.

As responsive as always, Elena changed from Stefan's lover to Damon's in a matter of milliseconds. She looked at him with a new light in her eyes, her lips parted with a lustful breath and her cheeks coloured with a rosey glow. If he were to look down, he was positive her nipples would be pushing the thin cotton, desperate for his attention. But tonight, it was all in her eyes, the passion, the hope, the dreams he'd laid her memory with.

Shame ricocheted through him , he found his own eyes changing, the threat of broken tears burning with self pity. "You love me." It wasn't intended as additional compulsion, just re-affirmation of the words for his own benefit, to help rid him of the sickness in his gut. A falsehood surrounded him, Elena wasn't his at all… no, his brother took home this prize.

"Damon?" her sweet tones were reverent. In her compelled eyes, he could do no wrong; he was the moon and stars above her dark world. "What happened?" The depth of her compulsion could even allow her to read the tiniest of changes in his mood.

But this wasn't the same as the other nights, he was broken tonight.

Her eyes met his, begging for something to make him feel even marginally better. Her fingers reached out to his face but he turned just a little fraction too much and she dropped them to his thighs, the burning heat of her touch scorching him even through the jeans.

"Why can't you love me?" he finally muttered, his fingers brushing her hair back from those beautiful features. Confusion bloomed over her cocoa eyes. Damon couldn't stop the words that were freefalling from his lips. "All day you've been with him. Looked at him with those damn doe eyes, kissed him…" his voice choking over the last two words. He paused before he would unravel completely. To tell her that she'd turned to him without those same adoring eyes would be to speak the concealed truth. Elena didn't love Damon. Elena didn't want Damon.

"I don't understand." Elena spoke, distressed by the confusion.

No; she wouldn't understand. The glamour took Stefan from her mind entirely.

"There's a girl." he began, his fingertips lightly brushing her rosy lips. "She's nothing like you…" it was the truth, Elena was nothing like the form he created to please his desires. "God knows I love her… but… she can't stand to look at me." he sighed and dropped his hands from her touch. "She's in love with someone else."

"You… you're in love with someone else?" Elena spoke, the words wobbling as the idea broke her compelled ideas.

"That's not a problem." Damon quickly slid in and watched Elena blink away silly tears and look back to him, her mind on his problem.

"Does she know you love her?" Elena's hands slipped into Damon's larger ones, the comfort of the touch finally rising another truth from him.

"She'd be repulsed. She can't even stand to look at me." Damon turned from his shame, but caught his reflection in her mirror. How could he even bare to look at himself after this?

Compelling Elena… even he knew it was wrong…

"But, you're beautiful… surely she can't hate you." Elena's mind was the number one cheerleader for Damon, anything against Damon was not supported, even if it was her real feelings.

"She hates me." Damon's temper was rising again, breaking through the self-pity and dragging a heap of buried sadness with it. "She thinks I ruin everything, she looks at me and… I can tell she wishes I was anywhere else." Damon's eyes blurred with new tears. "Not that I can blame her… I compelled her into loving me damn it."

Elena's warm hands were on his cheeks, pulling his eyes back to hers.

"You need to move on from her, Damon." Yes. He'd been telling himself the same thing for far too long. He'd thought to have her once would absolve the need… it did the opposite.

"I can't." he whispered, a tear sliding down his cheek.

Elena tugged him to her chest, embracing him. Damon was little more than a stringless puppet, too easily bent to her will, too ready for her comfort, too easily wounded by the truth he couldn't stand.

"Damon." Her voice was as damaged as he felt, the sight of his tears bringing her own. "I'm so sorry." A tear dropped from him onto her bare shoulder. She couldn't stop the soothing touch as she held him closer. "You still have me. I'm here." The idea cut sharply through to Damon's darkness and dried his tears almost instantly. "I'll never leave you."

"You want me." Damon stated to himself, building up the devilish side of his personality.

"So much." she replied anyway, her breath parting with the want she couldn't express.

"You need me." he continued.

"All the time." she purred, pulling away from his newly bolstered form.

"You love me."

"So much it hurts." she echoed the compulsion he'd given her and he didn't care. His breakdown had passed as quickly as it had come.

"What do you want me to do?" An evil touch of light glimmered in his eyes, he smirked in a way only Damon could. Tease, she called.

"Make love to me, Damon."

It was all he wanted, all he needed. Another hit of her drug, another push down the rabbit hole, another soaring of his egotistic pride.

Tonight, she would dance with the devil again.

Tonight, she would call his name like a prayer to the skies.

Tonight, she was his again. Like she should be.
His lips crashed clumsily to hers. He wanted her too much, needed her too much.

She didn't care, her hands were on him in the next instant, tugging at the shirt buttons to truly touch him.

Never in the past nights had he bit her, but now, hungry as he was, with his kisses trailing down her throat, the desire to bite her and taste her blood was raging.

He palmed her breasts, maybe he'd bite over those little erect pink nipples, drink right from her breast and taste her sweet blood.

He'd mark her. Let Stefan know his little princess wasn't as safe as he thought.

The darkness in the idea swamped his mind, the war between the taste and security of biting her flooded him.

If he bit her, Stefan would be keeping her under greater security.

If he didn't bite her… he might go insane.

He'd risk it, Stefan wasn't anything to fear.

The smirk came back as he teasingly nipped her nipple with his teeth through the fabric. Elena moaned. She'd love it.

Button after button she pushed through the holes on the shirt and finally put her hands on his bare skin, her nails scratching at his skin as they had the night before last when they'd gone hot and heavy in a rage to have each other.

"Bite me." Elena purred "Make me yours." she begged.

"Patience." he implored, silky smooth with his words. He'd bite her as she came around his cock. Yes... just like that. She'd call his name as he bit down and drank deep from her breast.

"What the hell?!"

The words barely registered in the lover's brains before Damon was slammed into the wall and Elena was forced into Stefan's hold.

Just a short one, will only be two chapters. Next chapter will be up next week sometime. Feel free to review in the meantime if you feel like it.
Thanks.
Xx