CHAPTER ONE
the start will be a kiss on lips so red,
A symbol of the flames of coming fire
I'm so fucked up, literally, figuratively.
He meets my eyes, dread pools in the pit of my stomach, and for the millionth time I realize that there is no hope for my affliction, I am incurable. His hand is on my thigh, gripping but not tight, possessive but not controlling. I like it, and he knows it. "You're fucked up Gilbert," He laughs so softly that it's almost a whisper. But that's just how he talks, low, unhurried, sexy.
I wrap my red stained lips around the neck of the bottle in what I hope is a sexy way before I respond "Nope, just getting started" I somewhat slur, and blush at my slight. His eyes darken, and I know this hue, I've memorized it in my dreams, it's the shade it gets when he's turned on. "How old are you anyway?" He asks casually, in a not so casual manner.
"Old enough" I fire back automatically, like I've rehearsed this response.
"Old enough huh?" He gently pries open my swinging thighs "Old enough to do what exactly" His fingers flutter around the outline of my panties and for a second I can't fucking breathe.
I scoot down lower on the couch to accommodate his next move, but it never comes. Almost as if he can sense just how badly I want it. He's playing with me, its what he does. I should be angry; it's the proper emotion and certainly merited, but I can't. I'm too far-gone. Instead of balking, I delight, strategizing a countermove. Slowly, deliberately, I adjust my misshapen top, and silently marvel at how much my cleavage now juts out. Checkmate. He smirks, that fucking Salvatore Smile, the one that makes my stomach quiver and suddenly I don't want to play anymore, I just want to fuck.
His fingers, long and tapered, reach out to trace the outline of my frilly top and a butterfly passes through my stomach as I stare at his strong spider tattooed hand "Nice shirt".
I start to thank him, and I'm mid-sentence when he suddenly he reaches over and pours his beer down my cleavage. It's so fucking rude, so rock and roll, so him, and so brilliantly frustrating that I'm too vexed to react. I want to shout and to reprimand him, establish my backbone upfront, but when his lips began to chase the cool rivulets of beer down my cleavage I'm jumbled putty. I grip at his muscled tattooed biceps as his lips touch everywhere, my neck, my lips, my cleavage, His kisses, cool, beer-flavored, and butterfly inducing. I'm lightheaded, drunk on passion, and in the grips of an inferno, but I don't recoil I revel in the burn.
I yelp in shock suddenly as I feel his teeth pull at my nipple through my blouse. His eyes burn up at me, amused at my innocence and darken again as he slips his hands inside of my shirt and bra and roughly yank them down. I'm raw and exposed, hot and bothered but just a little shy as I stare at him uncertainly. He licks his lips at me slowly before biting them and then roughly grabs me closer to him. And it's just so fucking hot when his head, so dark and sinister against my pale breast lowers and licks at my nipple.
I shiver, or more like shake, and I'm slightly embarrassed at my responsiveness, I try to play it cool and bite my lip as he licks rotating from breast to breast. His eyes scorch me with each ministration, daring and taunting, coaxing a verbal response, but I don't give. He laughs softly at my bravado, and yanks my underwear to the side slipping a finger into me and curving upwards. Reflexively I jump up slightly, the digit so intimate, and foreign.
"No running" He shakes his head with a smile. I glare at him and gasp soon afterwards as his finger begins to work furiously inside of me. It feels so fucking good, and when I'm soaking wet he adds another and presses his mouth to my ear. It's hot, and it makes me shiver in response.
"Don't play games with me little girl, I invented em" he presses his thumb against my clit, hitting just the right spot and I fucking unravel. No move, no objection, I'm just a crying, trembling, incoherent mass as I come in waves, and it seems fucking endless, and I don't care about saving face, or anything he's said, I just succumb completely to this feeling, this amazing, transcendent feeling.
I cling to him weakly, overcome with this embarrassing tenderness, and I want to kiss my appreciation and so I do. I give it all I've got, and all that I feel as I straddle his lap and kiss him hungrily, cognizant of every moment, and every detail. And its just perfect, the way his breath fans against my face cool and minty, and how his cologne cloaks us in, subtle but effective.
I can feel the beginning of a great memory happening, one I will revisit over and over again.
I cradle his face softly, tenderly, as I kiss him with fervor, battling against the flutters that spool in my stomach.
I'm not myself. I'm someone else. This desperate, starved, mad woman who's every instinct is Damon, and touching him. My hips move of their own accord, rocking and grinding against him blatantly, chasing at what is sure to come. He grunts his appreciation and follows it up with gripping my ass and grinding me against him harder. My clit bumps against him slightly every time I move and I'm tingling everywhere, I need a reprieve.
Suddenly I'm flipped over, and before I even know what's happened I'm lying on my back staring up at this bronze tattooed God. The aggression makes me want him even more and I study his face in quiet awe, struck by his masculine beauty and tempted to push back the dark lock that hangs rakishly over his eye. I reach for him needing to touch all that I've seen but he smiles lazily and pins my arms over my head.
"No touchin unless I say so" He squeezes my fingers with his and his smile is so boyish and cute I want to kiss him. Instead I cry out in protest and annoyance but say nothing. I know him; this is all apart of his need to feel in control of things. So I go with the flow.
He leans forward slightly, his silver dog chains dangling above my face and I have to fight not to grab them and bring him closer to me. His lips touch mine and I flutter like a butterfly, taking all that he is willing to give.
He breaks the kiss, and blue eyes burn up at me enigmatically before he softly kisses my cheek, the stubble on his jaw slightly scratching. I stare at him confused for a moment, its so unexpected, so unlike him that I don't know how to take it. Before I can process, he kisses down my neck, nibbling and sucking in a way that makes my walls pound. I want to reciprocate, to touch him, to reach him, to leave an impression and not just be like all the other girls before me, but the reaching is in the touching, and he said no touching.
I do buck up against him though, and wrap my legs so tightly around him that we're almost one entity.
He doesn't object, instead he tugs at the hem of my shirt "Take it off" He roughly orders, and I comply without fail. The minute my shirt is off his hands grab my face and kiss me lightly first, then deeper, until we're nothing but a spar of tongues and rushed breaths. His hands move around to the back of me, and caress my back so lightly that Goosebumps coat my skin and I shiver involuntarily. Weakly, I lean into him, moaning into my hand as he presses quick feathery kisses to my neck and shoulder.
I'm so past perception that it takes a moment to realize that my bra is unhooked and he's already taking it off when I do.
"You're good at that "I say just teasingly enough so that there's no hint of my obvious jealousy.
He doesn't respond, he just laughs it off in a manner that's both addicting and frustrating. My straps slip down around my arms and I lift slightly to get them completely off. We're face to face now, chest to shirt, my legs curled around him.
"Beautiful "I gush touching my fingers to his lips and he laughs like I've just said the most ridiculous thing I join in, "Seriously, boys can be beautiful too"
He shakes his head indolently Tsking me, "No touching remember Gilbert". I start to talk shit, but I'm cut off short when he kisses me. I cling to him, never wanting to be separated from his body as he squeezes me with little hugs occasionally, his hands all over my body with light little caress here, and there.
I'm just about to expire when he cups my breasts, lifting them and then playing with my hard nipples. Suddenly his mouth is on me, and in no time at all I'm writhing and moaning. There are no words to describe it.
"Let me touch you" I beg in a whisper, he shakes his head no sucking harder on my nipple before bringing my arms above my head and slowly sliding his hands down the undersides. I'm shaking, and I can feel him smiling at it. He bites my nipple softly "No touching," He rasps before kissing down my stomach, the stubble scratching along with him.
The dog chains slide down my body as well, cool, and contrasting to his fevered kisses.
He's in between my legs now, my skirt hiked up, and my panties exposed in all their pink ruche glory.
"You know how bad I wanna fuck you?" He whispers his blue eyes looking up at me from in between my thighs; he doesn't wait for an answer as he slides his chain over my clad lips. I jerk involuntarily at the cool sensation. "Sweet, little, innocent Elena" He slides the edge of chain into me some.
"Not so innocent anymore though are you" He bites at my underwear with his teeth. "No more daddy's little girl" He grabs at my underwear to take them off and I scoot up to let them slide down and kick out of them. Without warning, his mouth is suddenly on my clit, and a finger inside of me and I moan so fucking loud I just know that the neighbors feel it.
"Damon's girl" He says cockily,
DAMONS GIRL my mind shouts in agreement as he runs his hands down my bare thighs slowly and torturously before standing up to yank his shirt above his head.
His chest is smooth and chiseled, a perfectly sculpted six pack that I want to kiss all over, and I can't help but admire the little fuzzy line of hair that dips into his loose fitting jogging pants as I take him all in.
I'm a shameless voyeur and I watch without preamble as he kicks out of his jogging pants his dark blue boxers the only thing standing in between a happy time and me.
He advances towards me grit and sex, flesh and blood and suddenly this becomes very real and it's happening. He's not some image I've conjured up in boredom, or some breathless dream I've just waken up to. He's Damon Salvatore, and we're about to fuck, because Damon Salvatore doesn't make love. I know this, its no surprise, but still inwardly I cringe like a cornered deer afraid of the big bad wolf. My mind protests for a second, and for a moment its all white noise and doubt, but then a strange calm settles over me and I shift into gear.
I want this; I've wanted it for so long now. He's reaching for a condom, and its still time to back out. I know this. I can say no. But fuck if I want to.
He slips out of his shorts, and stands with all the subtlety of a hand grenade, blatantly proud of what's on display. His whole being is charged. My mouth is bone dry as I soak him in and think his reputation certainly precedes him, and every little dirty detail and whisper I've ever heard about him is true. For a desperate second I wonder if he'll fit and start to chicken out but then he smiles, my stomach flips and I know this is right.
His knee nudges my legs open, and I'm stiffer than a board as he settles between my legs. His blue gaze flickers to my face "Your first time? " He asks so casually, that it nearly catches me off guard.
I say "Yes" in what I hope isn't at all a teary sentimental tone, and then wait. But it never comes.
"You don't have to do this if you don't want to Elena" He says somewhat uncharacteristically and strained. It's obvious he wants to do anything but stop and for some reason that makes the statement all the sweeter. And I don't know what I'm more shocked at the fact that he remembers my name, or what he said. I recover from the shock eventually " No I want this" I say firmly my gaze level with his.
"Good me too" He smiles slightly, and it's the closest admission of a feeling that I've ever heard from him. I smile dumbly, "Good".
His stare holds with mine and I feel my face stretch even wider, and I'm smiling harder than I knew was humanly possible. I want to stop, I need to stop, but I'm so giddy, and its just one of those moments where you just can't stop smiling.
He looks at me oddly for a second, and then touches his finger to my lip gently "Beautiful".
I want to shout, to whoop with victory, to Instagram, Facebook, and twitter this moment. Instead I smile mischievously "No touching remember". And mentally high five myself. It's just such a witty and perfect comeback that all he can do is smile and shake his head, and I bask in my clever.
His eyes study my lips for a moment, and then we're kissing again, and my back hits the couch sinking into a mound of propped up pillows.
"I'll go slow ok?" He whispers hotly against my cheek, and I shake my head shyly and give into his slow, hot drugging kisses.
I moan into his mouth as his fingers skim my bare ribs and rise under my hips, hoisting me up. I hold my breath, and then I feel it. It's a slow burn, stretching and uncomfortable.
His fingers tilt my chin up forcefully and when I open my closed eyes I see the quiet command in his. It's a branding, a refusal to be forgotten, and order to be seen. I stare at him starkly in acknowledgement, and it's R-rated eyesex before he kisses me deep and slowly pushes further in.
Reflexively I move up and away, and he holds my shoulders down slightly to keep me in place. "That's it baby… right there" He instructs, and the pressure intensifies as my mouth opens soundlessly in panic and discomfit.
He kisses me passionately and grabs me up against him as he starts to pump slowly."Fuck" he swears on a hiss. "You're so tight, and wet". Its so carnal, and fueled with passion that my stomach flutters and my legs lock around his waist, and I begin to move with him matching his thrust. Somewhere, I can't pinpoint exactly where, but the pain lessens, I get wetter, and it starts to feel great.
"You feel so good baby… just open up a bit more for me…yeah that's it just like that " He groans as my legs widen some more for him. "Around my waist….wrap them around tighter…just like that"
I moan or cry, I can't be sure but it's loud, and fuck if this isn't starting to feel good. I start to vibrate, and I wrap my legs around even tighter as my hips swivel faster and harder. I can't control it, I grip him tighter my nails stuck to his back and suck on his neck causing him to groan. I flutter, and just as I'm careening towards the edge he grabs my jaw possessively and kisses me long and hard while simultaneously playing with my clit.
"SSS… UNNN" I moan long and ragged.
"That's it baby.. let it out" And I do, over and over until I'm sure I'll pass out from the exertion, and as I slowly start to come down he slaps at my thigh and bites my shoulder playfully.
"Not done with you yet Gilbert" He smirks so arrogantly that it's cute.
"I can't.. I can't anymore"
"Lesson one" He whispers opening my legs wider "Stamina" and then sinks in hilt deep, I come instantly still sensitive from my earlier orgasm.
My legs shake and I'm so sensitive it's almost painful. But still I clasp my around arms around his neck as he starts to piston into me, hard and rough. Our skins slap together in the oddest discord but I'm too far-gone to be embarrassed or self-conscious.
All that there is this, and its fucking magnificent. No ore shy little virgin; I'm all vixen and playboy as I clutch his ass cheeks wanting him as far in as he'll go.
He grips at something above me and starts to fuck me harder.
"The first right?" He asks, and I look up at him through a flutter of lashes and shake my head. He pulls out slowly just to the tip, and just as I'm protesting he slams back into me " And the only too".
I cum harder this time, and can't seem to stop as he goes faster, and faster until I feel him stiffen and grunt "Fuck…" He grits, and spasms slightly before stiffening on top of me completely.
I hold him to me tightly, marveling in the sounds of deep harsh breaths. Our skins sweat and stick to each other at odd places, and we're both spent. He shifts slightly, and I immediately mourn the loss of contact as he rolls on to his back and to the opposite end of the couch, our legs slightly intertwined.
A pall of silence hovers, and suddenly I become aware of things I hadn't noticed at first like how neat and orderly everything is, the little cracks in his ceiling, and how damn sore I am. I want to say something, but words escape me, so instead I just lay.
An innate need to leave before I'm left flares up, and I start to untangle myself from him. I'm scooping up discarded clothes, when his eyes meet mine, I linger trying to decipher the mood but they give away nothing.
I start to walk to the bathroom when his hand catches mine and yanks me back roughly and suddenly I'm falling onto his chest. He repositions me so that I'm lying on top of him, and I laugh breathlessly.
"Asshole",
"Yeah but you like it" He grins and its so contagious that I find myself doing it too.
I lean forward and press a kiss to his chest and sit back up to see heated eyes fixed on my face, I know this shade, fuck I know this shade. My stomach twists and I wait with delightful anticipation.
"I think its time we teach you how to ride "He says, and I gasp my response as he slips into me.
its decided, the story stays... I'm too attached. the end