She was drowning. It was becoming increasingly hard to breathe. The air was leaving her lungs as she sank deeper. She couldn't fight it, had tried to in the past and it hadn't worked. Her entire being was being engulfed and she was going under. It wasn't a fast ordeal. No. This was one of slow, deliberate torture. Yes, she was drowning, and as she looked into the eyes of man causing it, she couldn't imagine wanting anything more.

His eyes were incapacitating her. They held her captive as she looked into them. Those eyes, always spoke for him. She could tell exactly what he was thinking…feeling, from just simply looking into them. They were expressive; more so than any others she had ever seen, had ever stared into. Looking into his eyes, however, was more than staring. It was suffocating, in the purest sense.

They were scorching, those eyes of his, housing depths deeper than the ocean. His soul bled from them; allowed her to see the person that he truly was. The one he so often hid from others; that he tried to hide from her.

Those eyes traveled a slow course over her body. Whatever his eyes took in felt like a physical caress. It caused heat to wash over her. Intensifying as his burning gaze traveled its way up.

Heat pooled in her stomach as his gaze settled there for a moment. He loved that part of her and she knew. She didn't fully understand why, couldn't describe how big of a turn on it seemed to be for him to see her bare stomach, but it was. His gaze lingered there for a moment before his eyes resumed their journey.

By the time his eyes locked with hers, her body had been set ablaze. She'd started off drowning and now she was on fire as well. His gaze had been flames licking against her skin. Smoldering embers flitting across her flesh. The lingering effects were like a state of heat exhaustion. She knew however that this was nothing compared to the way it was at times. Those times when he could burn her alive.

As she peered into those cognitive eyes she could once again see his soul. He was openly showing her. Allowing her to stare into it, something he rarely did. However, when he granted her this liberty she always took it. Even when it broke her.

His very soul was tainted; shrouded in blood and death and she knew he wanted her to see just that. He wanted her to remember exactly who he was. What he was and what he was capable of doing. How he was capable of hurting others. How he was capable of hurting her. She knew he wouldn't though, and that's why she allowed it. Allowed his soul, his being, to kill her over and over again every time they came together as one; because if that was what dying felt like, then she would happily die a thousand deaths.

She knew he wanted her to see these things and push him away, but she couldn't. His soul was darkness and light; beautiful and damning all at the same time. He was simply a man and she knew what he wanted more than anything else was to be loved. She had no problem giving him that, no problem showing him her love every day.

His hand skimmed the outside of her thigh almost hesitantly, but she knew better. He was always sure in his actions when locked in his bedroom with her. It was his way of distracting her, drawing her eyes away from his inner being. He did this when he felt too vulnerable, when she was making him hope that there was something else to him than the darkness he knew living inside of him.

Though she didn't want to draw her gaze away from his, it happened as her eyes fluttered from his touch. As they closed for half a second before opening again. His hand moved with slow purpose as it trailed from the outside of her thigh to the inside before skimming her apex with his knuckles.

She was already slick for him, her body always responding wholly to the look he gave when he wanted them to collide. The look he had given her ten minutes prior right before stripping her of her clothes and lying her on his bed.

He began slow ministrations. Still using his knuckles to stroke the length of her slit softly. His touch was cotton soft, but she felt it throughout her entire being. She should have been used to his teasing touch, but she wasn't. It never ceased to amaze her how he found different ways to ignite her flame.

With practiced precision, he slowly slid a single finger inside her at the same time his head descended and he latched onto her pearl. Her eyes began to close, but she fought to keep them open. She needed to watch him, wanted to see everything he was doing.

He was astounding. Simply and truly so. Watching him pleasure her was almost as pleasurable as what she was feeling. It was like watching an artist create a masterpiece. Often making her wonder if those who were able to witness Van Gogh or Claude Monet at work felt the way she did watching him. Like they were watching the beginning blossoms of greatness. It was beautiful, purely and erotically.

He feasted on her with a learned elegance. As if he were drinking the finest of wines, cultivated over decades. Just as with wine, she knew he would savor her. Sip from her slowly, building to an earth shattering crescendo and she knew, no matter how much she begged, he would not change his pace.

Therefore, she exhaled and began to slowly run her fingers through his hair. It wasn't in an attempt to keep him in any particular place. He knew exactly what she liked and gave it to her continuously. No, she simply wanted to touch him...needed to touch him.

Ten minutes after his slow feast, she began to feel pleasure coil in her stomach. Her quiet whispers began to turn into keening. The sound echoing, bouncing off the walls in the quiet room. Her legs began to tremble and she the gripped his hair in a futile attempt, she knew, to ground herself. However, it was no use. With his lips still attached to her bundle of nerves, he looked up at her, eyes holding hers prisoner. The dam within broke and her essence began to grace his awaiting lips.

He licked her languidly until she began to come down from euphoria. Licking his lips clean, he moved up her body, eyes still holding hers hostage, aligning himself. Just as slow and practiced as his oral ministrations, he slid into her depths until he was seated fully.

He stayed there momentarily as he always did, just enjoying the feel of her. Her warmth engulfing him. She squeezed herself around him and he placed his head in her neck groaning.

After a moment, he began a slow place. It was as if they were waltzing. The way in which he stroked her was debonair, an elegance that transcended the current times. She loved every minute of it, would live in that moment forever if it were possible. Even with the tortuously slow pace he kept because she knew what the end result would be.

She moaned into his ear while he moaned into hers. Her arms wrapping around his neck to run her hands down his back. To feel the contracting and extraction of those muscles as he worked her center. He was possessing her. Staking a firm claim as he pleasured her. Every inch of skin touching.

What felt like hours went by, but as her muscles began to contract around him rapidly, he leaned up and looked into her eyes. He loved her. He knew that and he was sure she did too. He had never loved anyone as much as he loved her. As dark as his soul was, as horrible the things he had done, she saw the good in him.

Leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips, causing her to sigh and they both felt it. Reality began to fade away and time stopped. Placing his lips to her neck he kissed it softly before sinking his fangs into it, drawing out her pleasure. His name slipped from her lips almost forbiddingly as he took one last sip of the sweet nectar that was her blood.

He didn't remove himself from her. Instead, he roll them over, forcing her to straddle him with her head on his chest. Moments ticked by before he heard her whisper, "I love you." He wouldn't saying it back...couldn't say it back, even though they both knew he loved her. He didn't feel worthy of her love and he felt that returning her sentiment would somehow taint her.

Again, he didn't know what he had done to deserve her love, but the hybrid knew that in all his thousand years no one had ever and would ever make him feel the way the way his caramel skinned beauty with the vibrant green eyes did. She wasn't the only one drowning. Klaus was drowning in Bonnie too.

-So...be honest. Did you guess who the mystery-shot was about before it was revealed? Let me know in the reviews and be on the look out for the next one.-

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