a/n: I did really like this scene, and like a lot of Delena scenes I thought that it had a lot of potential. It could have gone many ways, but this is the way I chose. Hope you guys like it.
p.s. I'm wondering if a lot of you didn't get my email about my last fic as the reviews were low…and by low. Don't get me wrong, I'm not bitching about it…just wondering was it that bad or did you all not get to see it?
Damon was busy digging through some box I'd never seen before. Had he pulled it out of the closet? I didn't care. I certainly didn't want to go through it. Nope, that was imply curiosity, desire to know him better. Those were things I no longer cared about. Right? I wasn't too proud to admit that I was bored. I was hungry too. That cheerleader had already gone through my system and watching Damon had my mouth watering just slightly. He did taste good. Damn, did he ever taste good. His blood, the way my tongue slid over his skin, licking the salty sweat from the curve of his neck and shoulder as he thrusted into me again and again. It was definitely hard not to think about that when I was sitting on the very bed we'd made love on, fucked on so many times. I can't even count the times.
He however, seemed oblivious to the thoughts going through my head, and perhaps it was better that way. Perhaps it was better if he continued to believe that I was a cold, heartless bitch. Which in a way, I guess I was. But deep down…deep, deep, deep down I couldn't help but admit to what I've been afraid of all along. This switch, wasn't real. Not really…it was an excuse for vampires to do, to say, to eat and feel no remorse for it. At first I had felt numb, completely and totally numb. My brother was dead how could I not? That was the shock, the initial waves of horror. Then I'd gone through the denial. The grief and the anger and the loneliness had kept me numb, quiet, blank and distant from everyone.
Including Damon.
I craved him, as I craved blood and sunlight…and even the comforting pain of the home I'd burned down. "How much longer am I supposed to sit here?"
"Well, I'm not big on goal setting, but let's just imagine a time when you don't want to kill your best friend."
He didn't look up at me and for the thousand time since I'd followed his request and flipped the switch I wondered; was he afraid of me? Was he afraid that he'd broken me? That my emotions would never come back? That the girl he'd loved was gone forever? Was he afraid of what I would do? That I no longer loved him? Could I tell him I still loved him? Did I even still love him? This no emotion shit was beginning to become exhausting in a way. I'd thought having them had been a burden, but pretending I didn't have them, keeping the below the barrier of reality, feeling only the slight tickles of them attempting to break through and then pushing them back down; that was tiring. "Are you judging me?" When he didn't answer me I slid from the bed. "How many times have you tried to kill Stefan?"
He still didn't answer me and I looked over his shoulder, seeing the photograph he was holding. Him and another man with their arms around each other. They looked close, like friends. I wanted to know what this photo meant to him, but then I didn't. I wouldn't want because that meant caring and I didn't care. He brushed off my question, sensing I wouldn't care enough to listen even if he told me and attempted to change the subject back to me. Back to 'Project Fix Her'. "Elena."
My heart sunk in my chest, I wasn't going to listen to this again. Not from him. "Don't," I turned away from him. "Every time someone starts with 'Elena' I get some stupid lecture. Everyone just needs to stop telling me that I need to feel." And here is where just a little bit of my honesty kicked in. Just a little. "I do feel. I feel amazing."
"You don't want to be like this." I was beginning to wonder if it wasn't fear he had. If it was disappointment.
"How should I be? Should I go back to being the scared little girl that couldn't admit what she wants? Is that how your prefer me to go back to being, or…" he was stepping closer to me. I could smell his cologne again. It had been ages since he'd touched me. Since anyone had touched me. Felt like longer because it was his touches I was craving. What did I have to do to get him back in that bed with me? What did I have to say? "Look, for the longest time you wanted to be with me, but you were scared that I would find out how awful you are. But it doesn't matter now, because I don't care." I slid my hand up his chest, pressing my palm against his skin. I could feel his heart beating beneath it. Just a little faster because I was touching him, just a little faster because he had hope. "Be honest, you like me better like this."
He was quite for a long while, looking at me, looking into me. His eyes searched, his hand rested against my neck, the other in my hair. "I love you Elena. I will always love you, no matter how you are. I don't like you less like this."
It wasn't the admittance I'd wanted but it wasn't a no either. He pulled me to him then, crushing me against his chest. I felt all the air leave my body, my ribs nearly cracking under the pressure when he pinned me between him and the wall. "My humanity is off Damon." I whispered, more like gasped between his kisses; shivering as his lips and teeth and tongue travelled down my cheek, down my neck. He tugged the thick strap of my tank top down, nibbling and nuzzling my shoulder. He left little hickeys, little bite marks and I reveled in it, basked in the excitement, the lust, the desire. "It's only the carnal needs that drive me now. The ones I need to survive." He looked up at me, the veins beneath my eyes dark as I bared my fangs for him to see. "Hunger, being the main one."
Then it was me winding him, and less than a moment later we were across the room and I was pinning him down onto the bed, my lips pulled back and my fangs on full display. I tore at his shirt, my nails scraping down his chest. Long, thin trails of blood stayed in my wake and I lapped them up greedily, letting the only safe need I had drive me. I wanted him, his body, his blood and I was going to have it. No matter what I had to say or what I had to pretend. He was not going to push me away. Not tonight. He hissed as I sunk my teeth into his neck, only pulling back when I felt him tear the tight black pants straight down my hips. "You aren't the only one that's hungry." He growled, apparently as effected by our lack of mating as I was.
His hands were strong beneath my arms, lifting me up so he could kiss his way down my neck, between my breasts. My tank top was still on, but by the time I was sitting up on his chest, straddling his neck and shoulders with my bare legs I'd pulled it off. Our eyes met as he lowered his head toward my center, but he missed it completely, and completely on purpose, earning himself another hiss. His lips attached to the inside of the thigh, sucking and leaving more marks. Just when I thought he was only doing this to torture me I felt his fangs pierce my skin and the blood begin to drain out of me. He sucked me into him, just as I'd taken him. My fingers tangled in his hair as the shocking level of pleasure spread from the bite, creating a shocking, almost friction like electrical current right where I needed it most. My hips began to rock, nearly of their own accord and he had to bite harder, his hands tightening on my hips to keep me still. My pleasure and my strength were too much for him in this position and he ended up having to stop, flipping me onto my back so we were upside down on the bed, my head hanging off the end of the mattress.
"Wow." Was all I could say and he smirked, something I hadn't seen in too long.
"Let me finish." He growled. "Since you don't care and all, you won't mind if I have a bit more."
He was testing me, or at least trying to. He did want the old Elena back, well she was gone. Had been gone longer than I cared to admit and now I had to deal with that in the best way I knew how. No humanity, no compassion, no caring. Just pure and unadulterated. That was the way I was going to live my life now, and as my first bloodlust orgasm tore through me I screamed his name. He didn't bother to cover my mouth and I didn't bother to care if Caroline or Stefan heard me downstairs. I'd never felt something this incredible and I wondered for a moment why he'd never shown me this level of pleasure before. Then my toes uncurled and my mouth slowly closed, my hands that had torn the sheets relaxed and I lifted my head to look down at him. He tugged me down then; back onto the mattress so my head wasn't dangling and spread my legs apart. He didn't hesitate to thrust into me, but I could see how hard his jaw was as he gritted his teeth.
No doubt he could feel the pulsing inside me as each of his movements sent my head spinning into a new dimension of pleasure. We weren't making love, but we weren't exactly fucking either. This was new, this was different. This was freedom. We could say or do anything we wanted to with no fear of how the other would react. It was a relief in a way, the most honest we'd been with each other. He did things, touched me in places, kissed me harder than he ever had before just because he could. He wasn't afraid to hurt me and I wasn't afraid to hurt him. I even bit him again, because I could. I felt him cum inside me, and felt that he didn't stop even after he had. The vampire stamina kept him going, and perhaps the intensity of it all kept him hard. When it was all finally over he collapsed on top of me, my legs and arms still tight around him.
He didn't want to move, and I didn't care for him to either. I wouldn't care if he ever moved, or if we ever got out of this bed. I didn't care, wouldn't care if the entire town walked in and found us like this, because that had been incredible. And that was the beauty of not caring. I could be in the moment; this moment with him and enjoy it for what it was. I didn't have to care about how my face had looked as I'd cum, or if my hair was more disaster than sexy mess. I didn't have to care if he wanted to get off me, get away from me. I almost wanted to ask him to flip the switch with me, to dive into this new freedom and explore what we could be like together, but I knew he would never go for it. I also knew why he hadn't taken me like this before; he'd been afraid of what I would think, if I would care that he'd taken my like a vampire instead of a man.
Perhaps he did like me better this way. This way he could be whoever he wanted without the consequence of no emotion.
a/n: this one was a little shorter but I liked it. Hopefully this gets into your inboxes so you can share this 'special' little moment with them. I just thought that if anyone's bite could turn me on to the point of climax it would have to be Damon Salvatore. Thoughts on that? And the whole specific 'vampire orgasm' thing I 'created'.