Horizons
That evening she only made it until about nine-thirty before she said to Stefan that she was going to go to bed. He nodded. "Whatever you want to do." He gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Want me to come with you?" She shook her head. "I'm okay." He looked at her full of concern. "I'll be up later." He added, supposing she wanted some time to be alone.
She walked slowly up the stairs to his room with her heart heavy. She couldn't have gone back to her own house tonight, not after everything that had happened. Jer had told her that unless she wanted him there, he would rather stay at Bonnie's. She understood. How could either of them deal with that house right now? It was filled to the brim with memories of a family that no longer would be there for them. She locked her feelings away; sealed them tight inside herself to deal with later. For now, her body ached to sleep. All the vampire blood that was passing through her was making her feel extremely strange. She was flipping between feeling disconnected from the world, then suddenly massively emotionally part of it. It was a rollercoaster ride she didn't want to be a part of. She just wanted to sleep until it had all gone away.
She knew the blood coursing through her was Damon's. Yet another one of his mistakes. She didn't pretend to understand what the spell was that had saved her from a fate as a vampire; all she knew was that she was grateful she didn't have to face that eventuality. Only she was riddled with guilt that it had cost her father his life. When she had awoken, Damon had been there, his eyes searching hers, looking for evidence of her new self. Or maybe what he looked for evidence of her anger? He would never learn to control his impulses, and they would always have to deal with the outcome. That was who he was.
She sighed. She wouldn't waste time on staying angry with him, what would it achieve? His remorse was obvious. She didn't need to hear him say the words.
As she entered Stefan's bedroom, she placed the shoes she now carried under his bed. She unzipped her dress and slid it off, bending to pick it up and place it neatly on the bed. She thought about how Stefan had tried to sacrifice himself instead of Jenna. That was who he was. Tonight she nearly ended up without either of them. She felt her breath catch and threaten to become a sob. No, she wouldn't cry. She slowly removed her earrings, her hair grips and her lingerie and padded barefoot over to the bathroom. All she wanted was a shower, and then that long, deep sleep. The sleep of the dead.
She entered Stefan's massive wet-room and switched on his enormous and powerful shower, stepping under the steaming water. Vampires who spent a lot of time covered in blood, seemed to indulge in buying the very best facilities for cleaning it off. Had she been less tired, she may have heard the door open, close and get locked. But the first she knew of Damon's arrival was when he stepped up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and pushing his naked body against hers. "What are you doing?" She panicked, scrabbling to push his arms off of her. "Get off of me!" She should have screamed. How he had slipped past his brother she had no idea. If Stefan found Damon here, he would surely kill him.
"Elena, I need to be with you." He said, his voice pleading. He wanted to add, 'because I don't have much time' but then that would defeat the purpose of forcing Bonnie to disguise the wound on his arm. Her spell had made him look complete, and not riddled with the pulsing black and ugly sore that was spreading fast. For all intents and purposes, the werewolf bite had disappeared. Only it hadn't, he could feel the affects biting deeper and deeper into him. That was why he was here. There really was no time. "Let me love you." He whispered to her now.
She felt so vulnerable, so confused. She couldn't see his face, couldn't see how he wanted her. Her wet hands slid over the arms he had coiled around her waist and tried desperately to push him away, but he was like marble. Solid and unmovable. Her breathing was hard and ragged as she struggled with her emotions. She was scared, scared because he seemed to have lost his mind if he thought this was what she wanted – what she could deal with right now. She didn't want any of this, didn't accept him being here. Not now.
He knew better. He could sense that amongst the grief, the tiredness and the fear of being caught, deep down, she was comforted by his need for her and beneath that, she was deeply aroused.
He rested his head on her shoulder and kept her locked in his arms, his body against hers, his hardened cock pressed against her taut behind. He reached for Stefan's expensive shower gel. He put some in his hands, rubbed them together, and then began to lather her stomach. She shivered, her body stiff and resistant to his touch. But his blood inside her was responding to the exotic blend of Eastern spices and citrus zest. She was transported to the desert; could feel the shifting sands, the ochre and purple haze as the sun dipped below the horizon. He kissed her throat. "Please relax. Let me take you somewhere beyond the pain."
She breathed heavily as she could feel his fine, sculpted body and hard cock pressed against her as the water ran in rivulets over them both. He began to run his hands over her back, hips, waist and to her breasts, where he pinched her hardening nipples. "I want you so much." He whispered. She bit her bottom lip to stop herself making any sound. He returned his head to her shoulder and placed his cheek against hers, so she knew his breath had quickened too. "I…" She began, but he interrupted her, reading her thoughts. "He'll never know about this. I promise you faithfully. I'll never tell him." She felt herself weaken. His touch was having its effect.
She knew how he felt about her and as his life force pumped through her veins, she felt another surge of deep emotion run through her. Suddenly her mind was overcome with all the sadness in her life, the death and destruction, the unhappiness and the struggle. The images of her father and mother, and now Jenna dead. She began to fall towards her knees as sobs wracked her body and tears poured from her eyes. But she never touched the floor, as he had pulled her up and was holding her tight, letting the moment pass.
She understood it then, knew it as definitely as she knew her love for his brother – she wanted him. She wanted all that he had promised her. His love to be traded for this pain. Her body relaxed against him and she ran her hand over his. It was the permission he had waited for. He pressed his lips against her throat and kissed her as the water ran over them both. She turned now to face him, looked at his intense blue eyes trying to read her as the water coursed over them both. He seemed sad and vulnerable, and she wondered what had made him take this huge risk in coming here, when Stefan could kill him, or she simply could have rejected him.
Maybe this was the weakest moment she would ever have, or maybe he was just manipulating her grief, but whichever it was, when he had said 'just let me love you' she realized she wanted to know what that felt like more than anything else in the world. She reached up and put her arms around his neck, pinched his dark wet hair between her thumb and forefinger and watched him blink the streaming water out of his eyes. "Do it, Damon. Fuck me. Fuck the pain away." She whispered into his mouth, before she pressed her lips against him, feeling him shiver as her body leaned into his so that every part of them made contact. But he pulled back and shook his head. "No," he said, "I want to make love to you."
He kissed her then with passion. He pulled her firmly against his body, his strong arms sliding against her skin, taking her in. She felt him gasp, but she wasn't sure if it was her, or something else, that made him stop kissing her and pull her tight. Slowly he let himself relax from the bear hug he had had her in; unfurled one of his arms from around her neck and began to stroke her back, letting his hand stroke the length of her wet hair, to the curve of her behind. She leaned in and took his lips into hers, explored his mouth, reveled in his warmth, his response, his need to be with her and his excitement to be kissing her at long last. She indulged in his passion and fed off his desire.
She let her fingers trail over his broad, smooth chest, down over his muscular torso, through his wet, course hair and wrapped them around his throbbing cock. She let her hand slide over the sensitive skin, gently pushing back his foreskin as the water washed over them. A murmur escaped his lips. He began to rock against her and she moved her hand with him, finding his rhythm, his eyes closed so the water dripped through his lashes and over his parted lips. Then suddenly, she found herself with her back against the shower room wall, his face centimeters away from hers. "No. This is not about me." He said and she felt her body slicked with the soap once more, her breasts squeezed as he fell to his knees and slid his tongue between her legs. He darted it between her folds and flicked at her clitoris as she rolled her shoulders back against the cool flagstone tiles, her hands seeking out and stroking his slick hair as he pleasured her. His hands gripped her hips and held her soapy body tight as she moved against him. He ignored the pain that ripped through him, ignored the fact that he could see his homestead, see the slaves working the fields, see Stefan waving to him, and the train of soldiers leaving for war…
She could tell he was excited as she was, but he didn't rush her pleasure or press for reciprocation, in fact he seemed to only want to delight in her satisfaction. If she had expected a selfish lover, then he confounded her. He had slipped his fingers where his tongue had been and got up again to meet her lips. "Your name will be the last word I ever utter." He told her before he let them slide over her throat as he covered it in kisses. She smiled, she felt he was being a little over dramatic, but then that was Damon. He never did anything by halves. She shivered now as he took her close to her climax, she ran her hand over his back.
When she tried to grasp his hips, he lightly pulled away from her outstretched hands and instead put light pressure on her own so that she would turn towards the wall. She put her arms out to steady herself and he lathered more of the spiced soap over her body. By now the room was filled with billowing steam and awash with soapy bubbles. He leaned into her body put his injured arm around her, pulling her tight against him, whilst his right hand, slick with water and soap, slipped once again between her legs. She gasped. She couldn't think, couldn't formulate even the most basic of thoughts. He made it so there was nothing more than his touch and this feeling that she was losing herself to.
His fingers built momentum and she gave in to it. She felt sure he would enter her; she readied herself and willed him to do so, but he continued teasing her with his hand. She tipped over into her moment, her head dropped back into the water's flow. Her body shuddered, almost in pain, internalizing the cries that she was desperate to make. He felt her wetness on his hand, her slick juices so sharp and sweet. He raised his fingers and breathed her in. He would never know this feeling again. He stroked her and moved up against her. She put her hand around behind her and placed it against his hip, steadying her feet, eager to have him inside her. When he didn't move, she turned to face him. "What is it? What's wrong?" She said touching his face.
"Nothing." He said and he flipped her quickly back around against the wall and slid deep inside of her. She cried out and bent her fingers against the tiles as she moaned. He had to hold her tighter, as the werewolf bite took its hold. Things weren't real any more. He shut his eyes to the images. Tried to concentrate on the slick sensation of her heat, her soft walls that were gripping him. Maybe he was helping her, for once. All he ever wanted was in this moment. He placed his hand over hers and she interlaced their fingers.
"I love you." He said and she came shuddering against him, feeling herself transported into a different world, a different time. It was still Damon she made love to, but he was dressed as a soldier and they lay the cotton fields, with the song of the slaves rising up around them.
He came too and she no longer could tell where they were, maybe here in this shower, or maybe in her Eastern sand dunes, or in his Southern fields. The only thing she knew was that he gripped her hand, said her name, and then fell away behind her.
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