Ruffle My Feathers
Summary: Damon Salvatore has fallen on his luck. Everything isn't going right, so he goes left. Rated MA: Sexual Content, Language. Explicit themes. Supernatural horrors.
Ruffle My Feathers
"Do we have to go through this again?" The dark haired male asks. He leans his head back, letting out a horrid groan. He's tired. He'd rather have his fangs and cock inside of something warm or even the woman standing before him. But he's been there. Done that. He rolls his eyes, turning his bare back on her to head towards his cabinet. He needs a stiff drink, a strong one.
"Damon, this is my best selection. I know you have a thing for brunettes…" The blonde behind him begins to start.
He cuts her off, turning his dark blue eyes at her, nothing but base in his voice. "We talked about this, Barbie. I'm not interested in brunettes. I want to try something else. Something new." He groans again, grabbing for his bottle of bourbon. Just the thought of a brunette cleaning his house, bending over in the outfit he had handpicked himself. He nearly vomits. He shakes the thought from his head, pours himself a glass. To distract himself. To push the thoughts away.
Once he's done pouring the glass to the rim, he turns back to face her. He's all serious now. He's done playing around. "I want blondes, human blondes." His sentence is filled with demands. As he throws himself on his couch, he hopes she understands how serious this is. He wants it done by tonight.
She snorts, lets out a little laugh. "Trying to replace me, Damon? Why have second best when first is always better?" She crosses her arms, walking over towards the couch, jutting out her breast, bending down to lean over him. Her hands reaching for his own to move them on her shoulder as she sits down in his lap. Her voice comes down to a whisper. "I've always loved your ass." She playfully growls at him.
Damon pulls himself to a sit, a smirk appearing along his lips as he presses his nose against the blondes. "Rebekah, we had a thing. Now you are a thing. Go find me what I want. Or should I tell my baby brother about our time in Paris?"
Rebekah quickly pulls herself away. She's across the room in seconds. The playfulness is gone. She's serious. "I was in Italy. I don't know what you are talking about."
Damon places the cup of bourbon to his lips, taking a heavy sip. "That's not what I remembered. Well, I wasn't on my back half the whole month. Or maybe the sheets were made in Italy?" He begins to ponder, mumbling under his breath the first thing that comes to mind. Rebekah begins to scowl, turning on her heel. She can't believe him. He wouldn't tell Stefan, her fiancée. Stefan had left her for Katherine and she had thought it would have been best to sleep with Damon. Plus she and Katherine had been best friends, for a short period. Damon was just convenient. She had just wanted to feel.
"I'll be back later, asshat."
She's nearly out the door when he replies, laughter in his voice. "You love my ass, remember, Bekah?"
Caroline Forbes trips over the stairs as her boss pushes her. Her hands are tied behind her back, her eyes are covered. The cold air is brushing against her neither regions and instead of being disgusted by the outfit she had to put on for her new master. It's only exciting. Most of the men she had worked for wanted her to be completely covered, only her face and hands could be shown. It had been nice. She knew the outfit wasn't alluring so they would put their hands on her. She secretly wanted them too, only in their line of work. She couldn't start it.
It was the master's decision to initiate anything between them. It was against the rules to come onto them unless they had stated so. Her job was to service her employer, made sure their needs were met, and continue on.
Caroline hated following the rules. She did her own thing, but ever since her dad's death and her mother's disown, she stopped caring. She had been working with Ruffle My Feathers for three years and hoped three more years in, she could become head maid. Then she would have a choice in whose house she cleaned. She'd be up there with Elena and Bonnie. She just needed to get through this guy first.
"Alright Caroline." Rebekah pulled the blindfold off of her eyes. Caroline blinked, the sun was high over her head, blinding her sight for a second. She groaned. "This is your new master's house. Damon Salvatore. Three more years here and you'll be riding along with Gilbert and Bennett. If only you survive."
Caroline felt the bind between her wrists break and she pulled them to her front, placing her hands over thighs by crossing them. She lets out a sigh, taking a cautious step forward to pull herself from the harsh rays of the sun only to pause. Not here.
She shakes her head, turning her head to face Rebekah. Her hair is high in a ponytail, a bright blue dress adorns her body. It's short, a slit on her right thigh, silver heel shoes. Caroline had chosen the outfit. It made the original vampire stand out.
"What Caroline?"
"Here? This is my new master." She gulps. She hopes not. She'd rather go clean Alaric's shabby apartment again. At least he stayed out of her way and he wasn't a part of her past.
Rebekah nods, stepping forward to knock on the door. "Yes. Damon Salvatore. Weren't you listening earlier on the way over?"
Caroline shook her head. "I wasn't. I was too wrapped up in my mind."
Rebekah nodded, running her tongue across her teeth, casting her eyes away from Caroline. Caroline sighed, bracing herself. If she would have been paying attention, she would have prepared herself for what was on the other side of the door.
Rebekah's eyes darken, veins appeared along her cheeks. She let out a snarl. "I've told you…"
Before Rebekah could get her hands around Caroline's neck, Caroline was yanked inside. The door slammed in Rebekah's face and she groaned in frustration before turning on her heel and walking away. She had a party to attend too anyway. Plus she hadn't seen Marcel in a while.
Caroline felt hot breath against her neck. Her legs were lifted off the ground, her back against the door. Her top was at her waist and his hands were on her hips.
"Fuck, I'm silently thanking myself for choosing this outfit. Only if I had known…" Each pause, he kissed her flesh, moving his head lower, his hands grabbing at the soft fabric that barely covered anything. "…it would have been you. I would have made you wear nothing."
He pulled at her half top with his teeth, tearing into it with the tip of his fangs, grinding his hardening length against her. She threw her head back, the back of her head hit the door with a hard thud. Pain flooded through her, but she quickly forgot about it once the cold air from the house brushed against her pebbled nipples.
"Oh fuck." She curses, the dress tears away and hits the floor. He's just as she remembered. His mouth. His voice. His hands, his skilled talented hands. His growing erection that's pressed against her thighs. Only her lace black underwear is stopping the intrusion, but it's dripping with her arousal. It's clouding the air. It's all she smells and him. They are all she smells.
Once his mouth meets her breasts, his hands slip underneath the thin material that's resting on her thigh is when she pulls herself to the present. This isn't what she wanted. Not his body. She has three more years of this and she'll be free. She can't allow herself to do this, plus three years in vampire years is almost nothing.
She pushes at him using all her strength to fight him. He's too lust driven to realize the sudden physical change in her. He just growls, moving his mouth to her other breast. Her eyes open widen. Her hands grab for his hair, using her nails to massage his scalp. It feels good. His hot wet tongue.
"Damon, please stop." She whines, trying once again. She pulls him from her. He nicks her, but it's just a sudden shot of pain before she slaps his face, falling to her feet. Her heels must have come off somehow once he had pulled her inside. She slips into them with demonic speed, fixes her dress, what's left of it and backs away from him.
She raises her hands up. He had fallen against the wall, but he's back to his feet, stalking to her. His fangs are out. "Caroline, you get back here. Or I will fuck you into the ground." His voice is raised.
The air feels colder. She can't breathe. She doesn't need to though. She states firmly. Her body growing warmer. She shouldn't react to him like this, but she does.. "No. I am your maid. I am here to clean." She fights back her own demon at the same time. It wants to come out, be with him. He is her sire, as well.
"You are here to fuck me and clean. You can fuck me again, blondie. Remember your birthday. Mine?"
Caroline shakes her head to fight the memories. It's a hole. He's a hole. She can't pull herself back in.
His nostrils flare and he stops. His eyes as black as his hair. He tilts his head to the side.
Her body grows even warmer. She's burning hot.
"You're wet for me, Care. Hot. You come here now or suffer my…"
"No. You stay the fuck away from me."
She wants to show him what she can do now. Back then, she couldn't fight him like she could now. She could break his arm, slap a tooth out. She turns on her heels to look around the boarding house. It's just as she remembered it. Nothing is out of place. A smile comes along her face. It makes her feel at home.
Suddenly, she feels air at the back of her thighs. She quickly jumps to the side, turning with speed as she begins to head up the stairs. She meant no.
Only she falls on her face as Damon pounces on her back. She feels his hands on her hips, then her ass. He smacks it. She fights him to get on all fours, throwing her head back to let out a moan.
"I knew I smelled something different. You're dead."
She winces at the word. Dead. Wouldn't he like to know it was he who made her like this? A vampire.
Only she says nothing, her body continues to grow hot as his hands rip at her underwear. She can't see anything, but she hears him inhale and groan. He presses his body against hers, it's hard, alert. She lets out a whimper. His jeans are rubbing against her sweet spot. She grabs at the edge of the stairs. Her knees are digging into the hardwood floor. It hurts, but it feels good.
She pulls one hand from the stairs, reaching around to grab at his jeans, ripping the button from them, tugging them down. She looks at him over her shoulder. He's shirtless, half naked. His length is hard and erect about ready to pierce her sex. "Something is wrong with you. You aren't supposed to fuck the dead. You have to let them rest." She states, even though her hand wraps around him, pumping him a couple of times.
"You were fucking the dead before it was cool, Caroline." He groans out her name, near falling on her. "Now, remember my cock inside of you. I could fuck you forever and you won't need to stop."
Caroline opens her mouth to cut him off. It had happened once, on his birthday they had nearly had sex all day and only stopped because she had been worn out. Sore. Now with her being a vampire, she wouldn't have to stop.
She closed her eyes, letting her demonic features come forth. She lost control.
He eased into her, breaking her hand from him. She slapped it against the stairs, dipping her body lower, letting out a surprised yelp of a scream. She was so tight. He slaps both of her cheeks at how tight. It's even better than before. He throws his head back, slowly pumping himself inside of her. It's so fucking hot. He curls his upper lip up in pleasure, his fangs digging into his bottom lip, blood forms and drips down his lips to stain his chin.
Caroline throws her hips in tune with his thrusts. Her teeth pierce her lips. Blood falls from her mouth. It feels too good to even care.
"I missed you so fucking much. God…."
She says nothing in return. She had forgotten he liked to state his true feelings during sex. At first, she looked forward to it. He would whisper in time with thrusts his true thoughts, but this. She didn't want to hear what he was really thinking. She wanted to be fucked in the ground like he had just promised. She didn't want to feel. She pushes herself to a stand, balancing her weight on her knees, leaning back to find his mouth. He's bleeding as well as she. She doesn't want to feel emotion. She just wants to feel…
He grabs at her hips, quickening his thrusts. She lets out a scream, her release is almost near.
Their lips find one another. She bites at his tongue and sucks. He stills, slowing down his thrusts, only going deeper once they meet.
She orgasms, falling forward, almost near to hit her face. But he catches her, pulls out, and rolls her over on her back to sink back inside. His lips meet hers once again, thrusting harder.
The floor cracks with each time he moves.
It feels good. Her welcome home.