Takes place about 10 and a half years after the S5 finale. Elijah and Elena share a drink... Among other things. M for a reason.
Bursting at the seams with bodies writhing to deafeningly loud music, the club was dark and humid.
Such an environment was an ideal hunting ground for their kind, the heavy bassline and blinding strobe lights smothering any chances of their identities being discovered.
The enclosed space and the sheer amount of people crammed into it meant that there was nowhere to run, and it was surprising how truly unobservant humans could be when they were trying to be polite. For example, what looked like a passionate embrace between lovers may actually have been (and usually was, this part of town) a demonic creature of the night drinking their fill from an unwitting and unwilling a victim - not that anyone ever looked closely enough to see the difference. Humans had a blissfully ignorant way of seeing only what logic and reason allowed them to see, especially if the alternative was to acknowledge something altogether terrifying, and it was rare to ever find one who dared to look beyond that veil.
The three remaining Mikaelson siblings lounged in their booth, watching with heavily lidded eyes as they singled out their targets for the evening. It was unusual for them to feed together for fear of attracting too much attention - a dozen people bleeding from the neck wandering around any nightclub was bound to cause problems eventually - but their schedules had coincided and so they had arrived at the club together.
3,000 square feet was a playground large enough to contain all three of their appetites, if they were careful enough to conceal their activities. Rebekah had to be reminded of this upon arrival: she had a habit of getting lost in the moment and taking too much, only to be lumbered with a corpse drained of blood in the middle of a nightclub.
Klaus preferred a more violent way of hunting, stalking his prey through the streets and psychologically tormenting them, making them almost delirious with fear until descending upon them with a brutal savagery that often left them begging for death.
It was only Elijah who was capable of maintaining any iota of self-control and dignity during his feeds and it was incredibly rare for him to forget himself, even whilst in the grip of his primal instincts. He had a healthy respect for humanity and was a moral man, but he was still a dangerous blood-drinking predator that ultimately enjoyed the hunt, the feed and the kill - although he hadn't killed during a feed in centuries.
He wasn't quite sure what he was in the mood for. The buffet was an excellent one with many options, but nothing immediately leapt out at him as appetizing. He wanted female company more than blood at that moment, and as he gazed at the clueless undulating crowd of humans, Elijah stiffened.
Elena Gilbert? In New York?
She still had that damned red streak in her hair.
He hadn't seen her in almost ten years, since their fateful meeting in Willoughby when he had kissed her whilst she had been pretending to be Katherine. He had known it was her from across the square, standing and watching her for a while before finally deciding how to handle this troublesome situation.
"Katerina."
Elena spun to face him, alarm showing momentarily in her eyes before her bravado washed it away. "Elijah." She fiddled with her watch. Katherine never fiddled. "You're a little late, aren't you?"
He had to fight a smile, then. How he enjoyed it when Elena was bold. Stepping closer to her, Elijah smiled, not commenting on the alluded to lateness. He hadn't been late. He was never late."You coloured your hair." He reached out to brush the red curl away from her face, running his fingers through it. "I like it." And he did like it; that was true. His large hand cupped her face and she very hesitantly leaned into the touch, and it was only then that he noticed the differences in her. Her skin was slightly cooler and more firm, her legs more toned than when he had seen her last, and she somehow lost some of her innocence, some of her naivety.
Elena smiled in spite of herself. "Thank you. It's actually gonna-"
His lips on hers interrupted what he was sure would have been a remarkable Katherine-like speech. He felt her surprise, but her mouth soon yielded under the pressure of his, and she tentatively kissed him back, before returning the embrace with enthusiasm. It was he who pulled away, and when he did, she looked taken aback, but covered it well.
"I missed you."
She faltered somewhat, not expecting him to be so informal with Katherine. "And I've missed you."
His hands found her waist. Even here he could feel the difference between the two; Katherine's waist was very marginally wider than Elena's, and the delicate torso he felt beneath his grip was not Katherine's. "This is an interesting little town that you've chosen to settle down in."
She didn't reply.
"So, do you have it with you?" He already knew the answer to that.
Elena tilted her head, unable to hide her curiosity. "Do I have what?"
"The cure."
She slowly shook her head, a smirk crawling across her face. It was the first time he had seen Elena smirk, and the expression moved him more than he wanted to admit. "It's in a safe place," she lied, "Why don't I go and get it?" And then she had slid her hand up onto his chest, her lapis lazuli ring providing clear evidence that 1) she most certainly was not Katherine, and 2) she had transitioned. "And then I'll bring it back?" Elena didn't wait for a reply, moving around him in her efforts to make a haste escape.
He grabbed her arm, pulling her back against him. "Where's Katherine, Elena?"
Had it been anybody else who had dared to lie to his face, Elijah wouldn't have hesitated in killing them, but he had always nursed a profound respect for Elena, and in that moment he couldn't help but kiss her. He had to kiss her, just once, even if they were both acting under the pretence that she was somebody else.
As it was in the present day, Elijah could not look away from her.
Elena held her arms over her head, swinging her hips to the music. Her eyes were closed and there was a blissfully content expression on her face as she allowed the rhythm to guide her movements. Her hair was long and loose, curly and teased to perfection to rival Katherine's as it fell around her face, over her shoulders and down her back. Elijah's gaze travelled lower, narrowing on the low sweetheart neckline of her dress, swallowing at the way the black fabric hugged her flat stomach and the curve of her hips. The hemline of the dress was short, shorter than anything he'd ever seen her wear, hitting her at mid thigh to reveal the long expanse of her toned, tanned legs. Her shoes - impossibly tall heels that defined the muscles of her calves, her toes peeping through to show the blood red polish on her nails - gave him reason to loosen his collar slightly.
He'd never seen Elena in such a light before. He'd always found her reasonably attractive, and not because she was the doppelganger of Tatia and Katherine, but to witness her now in that dress and those shoes, rolling her hips the way that she did...
A slow tightening below his waist made him blink in surprise and he glanced down at his lap in wonder. He was not the type to become aroused so easily, but there was something about Elena's appearance that he found irresistible. It struck him that he had never seen her in so little clothing, and though her face and body remained physically the same, that she'd matured a great deal was obvious. The Elena in this club was not the frightened seventeen year old who had cowered before him: this Elena was older, darker, infinitely more alluring.
He glanced back at her, his eyes flashing when he realised she was wrapped around a large, heavily muscled human man. Elena was not small in height but the man towered over her, and Elijah's eyes narrowed contemptuously at the possessive urge that blazed through his body.
The man bent as Elena whispered something into his ear, grinning like a lecher, and then he flinched as her fangs found his neck.
The scent of fresh blood wafted across the club and Elijah coughed, feeling his self control waver slightly under the unexpected intense assault. Klaus and Rebekah looked up sharply at the aroma, their eyes searching out the source.
Hearing Rebekah's irritated growl, Elijah knew that they had spotted her. Rebekah began to rise from her seat, but Elijah batted a dismissive hand at her and she scowled, complying with his wishes.
Unable to tear his eyes away from Elena, Elijah unconsciously leaned forwards, inhaling deeply as the smell of blood became more potent. Klaus, annoyingly alert as ever, stared curiously between his brother and the doppelganger, and noticing the strain of Elijah's trousers, raised an eyebrow.
A sly, knowing grin crawled across the Hybrid's face, and he opened his mouth to point out the obvious, but Rebekah's hand on his arm stopped him. She slowly shook her head, nodding at Elijah's reaction to Elena.
"Don't," she advised quietly, though it was quite clear that she wasn't happy about her brother's attraction to Elena.
Elena took her time with the man, suckling languidly at his neck. He fisted a hand in her hair, moaning weakly as her pulls increased in intensity. Whilst blood bags provided her with adequate sustenance, the predator inside of her longed for the nights where she would go out into the darkness, eager for fresh blood from the vein rather than a mug warmed in the microwave.
She thrived in environments like this one, where she felt free enough to embrace her dark side and feed directly from humans. Snatch, feed, erase.
She felt infinitely more satisfied when she fed this way, perhaps it was the hunt or the charged atmosphere between predator and prey, and though there was a part of her that recoiled from the thought, it was just a part of the feed.
Similarly, she hadn't ever set out at night to find a stranger to satisfy her libido, but her sexual appetite often walked hand in hand with the thirst, so she wasn't opposed to relieving both urges simultaneously. She understood why Damon had always had a beautiful woman on his arm, anyway; her vampirism seemed to be kryptonite for most men even though they didn't know what she was. It was if she exuded an aura of sensuality – part of the predatory nature, she supposed - and never struggled finding people to feed from.
"I'm the world's most dangerous predator. Everything about me invites you in. My voice, my face, even my smell. As if I'd need any of that. As if you could outrun me. As if you could fight me off. I'm designed to kill."
And she was.
She was also pretty sure that whoever had written that line had been having regular sex with a vampire. It was an uncanny description.
In the eleven years since her transition, she had learned to accept that part of her was indeed a predator, and though she wasn't naive enough to say she had gained complete control over that part of her life, she had a lot more than she had ever hoped for. She hadn't ripped any heads off yet, anyway, and that was good enough for her for the time being.
She didn't consider herself to be particularly bloodthirsty and was comfortable eating human food as a companion to blood bags, but she was still hunting at least three times a month. It was a part of her, and though she didn't relish the idea of hurting humans, it was easier to satisfy the cravings in the way that felt the most natural to her and serve humanity in other ways.
After Damon and Bonnie had died, Elena and Jeremy had come to the decision to sell their house in Mystic Falls, split the profits and move elsewhere. Elena and Caroline had relocated to New York together, and shared a spacious four bedroom loft conversion in Soho. Damon's death had utterly broken Elena, and it took a lot from Matt and Caroline to stop her from abandoning her emotions again.
It had taken her a long time to find contentment elsewhere, but Mystic Falls held nothing except ghosts and bad memories and she had no desire to live there ever again. The place was a hive for danger and supernatural melodramatics, and she'd had just about enough of those two things to last her a lifetime.
For the first couple of years, Caroline had travelled back to Virginia to attend college, spending most of the semester there and only flying back to New York the odd weekend. Elena enjoyed the solitude; it allowed her to truly grieve for Damon and Bonnie, and being able to lose herself amongst the city crowds was refreshing. To be anonymous was a beautiful thing, Elena thought; she had spent years being known as 'the doppelganger', being hunted simply because for some ridiculous cosmic reason she resembled one of her ancestors, and it was wonderful to live in a place that didn't care who or what she was. That was the beauty of a big city: as a whole, people were cynical and closed off, only seeing what they wanted to see, and Elena loved it.
When the house had sold, Jeremy, on the cusp of starting college, had headed west, finding peace and love in California. He married straight out of college and moved to San Diego, his wife Louise was pregnant with their first child and Jeremy was a high school Music teacher.
Matt, too, had gotten married young and had been happily wed for almost a decade, but had recently divorced and was in the process of moving out to New York to pursue his dream of opening his own bar. Elena was sad for what had become of Matt's marriage, but the man made a mean cocktail and she knew he'd do well in the city.
Stefan had left Mystic Falls after Damon's death and, if truth be told, she hadn't seen him since. The two exchanged emails from time to time and Elena knew he was dating someone new, but he hadn't told her where he had settled down. Elena's vampirism was always something that Stefan struggled with and he found it hard to be around her, tending to blame himself for the way her life had turned out.
It was only within the past four years or so that Elena had truly began to embrace her new self, having exhausted herself pretending that it was possible for her to live a human life. If she was honest with herself, she enjoyed being a vampire. She enjoyed never aging or getting sick, she liked knowing that she would be able to take care of Jeremy's children in whatever capacity she was allowed, and it comforted her to know that she'd be able to watch over the next generations of their family if only from a distance.
Elena had found peace in New York. She and Caroline didn't struggle for money; Caroline had a trust fund the size of Manhattan and, with her business in party-planning flourishing, their joint bank account never came close to emptying. Elena's trust fund – whilst not as sizeable as Caroline's – allowed her to live comfortably without working, though Elena made money here and there publishing articles in magazines on many different topics. She also had an online Travel Writing blog under an alias, and over the years her musings on hotel stays and tourist activities in different parts of the world had become popular.
She'd seen Rebekah Mikaelson a time or two in the past decade, once at Damon Salvatore's memorial and then again at a beach party in California. Each time brief and uncomfortable for both parties since their dislike had never really gone away, even if they were able to be civil to one another, but Klaus and Elijah had seemingly vanished from her life for good. She had heard about their conquest of New Orleans and the stronghold that they had created within the city for all things supernatural. It was a place that she wished to visit, one day, but she wasn't particularly eager to see Klaus again.
Elijah had always been gracious to her, if not a little cool, but then she had temporarily killed him once upon a time.
Elena's hands tightened in the human's hair, her sharp painted fingernails pressing into his scalp. He whimpered against her, helplessly thrusting his hips in an effort to find friction. She found it interesting how men became aroused when she fed; she'd had her blood taken forcibly enough times to know that it wasn't necessarily a pleasant experience for a human, and wondered why it seemed to be a popular biological reaction to what was, essentially, death by blood loss.
She felt him sway in her arms and reluctantly lifted her mouth from the man's neck, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as he trembled in her arms. The big ones always shook before she was finished. She licked at the puncture marks until the blood congealed; murmuring soft instructions for him to clean himself up in the men's room and go home. She waited in front of him until he nodded his assent to be sure of her compulsion, watching as he made his escape.
Elena closed her eyes in bliss, partially satiated, and lifted her pointer finger to wipe away a stray drop of blood in the corner of her mouth. She sucked the digit into her mouth and hummed at the taste. The night was young, and she wanted more.
...
Elijah's jaw ticked at Elena's delicious noise of approval, his fists balling at his sides with the urge to storm across the room, throw her over his shoulder and carry her out into the night.
He watched as she closed her eyes again, inhaling deeply and allowing her instincts to guide her through the throng of people, stilling suddenly in front of a stunning blonde woman. Elena reached out blindly, placing her hands on the woman's hips and moving closer to her. This was a relatively normal action in any nightclub; intoxicated patrons wanting to dance with attractive strangers, and the woman turned at the touch, grinning as she did so. Elena's eyes opened and Elijah could have wept at the heat he saw in her gaze. He had never pictured Elena to be so adventurous, so embracing of her nature, and was pleasantly surprised when her hands wandered down the blonde woman's torso, a suggestive smirk on her face as the woman wrapped her arms around Elena's neck.
Sliding her knee between Elena's thighs, the woman leaned backwards and slid to the floor, dragging herself back up Elena's body with a delicious sensuality.
It happened so slowly that the blonde didn't notice; Elena pulled her gently away from the crowded inner sanctum of the club and towards the shadowy outskirts, not stopping until her back was against the wall and the woman was standing in front of her. The blonde leered up at Elena, tilting her head forwards for a kiss. Elena twisted her head to the side, the blonde's lips landing on her nape, and Elijah's mouth slackened when Elena's eyes closed in bliss.
The blonde was curvaceous and well-endowed compared to Elena's willowy beauty, and though Elena appeared to be the more submissive of the two, Elijah was incredibly aroused by the knowledge that Elena could tear the woman apart with minimal effort if she so desired.
The woman placed open mouthed kisses along Elena's neck and for a second Elijah thought that Elena was simply allowing herself to be seduced by the beautiful stranger, especially when Elena moaned at the feel of the woman's blunt teeth nibbling on her throat, even tilting her head to give her better access. She allowed the blonde to stroke a heated path up her thighs, her head falling to the side when her fingers delved beneath the fabric of her dress.
Elijah growled at the indescribable scent that followed. Behind him, Klaus coughed in surprise, and even Rebekah shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the intoxicating aroma of Elena's arousal washed over them.
"And I thought her blood smelt good," Klaus observed with a grin, holding up his hands defensively when Elijah spun to face him, utterly enraged at his brother's comment.
Rebekah made a noise of disgust, but hastily looked away when Elijah frowned at her. Even if he hadn't been able to smell the beginnings of Rebekah's own feelings, none of them were angels, often combining sex and blood quite happily, even sharing partners on occasion. Her judgement of Elena was hypocritical, especially when it was usually Rebekah who gave her prey pleasure before she drank from them, claiming that it made their blood taste better.
Hearing Elena gasp, Elijah looked back to her and was overcome by the expression on her face as the blonde brought her to orgasm. As she reached her peak, the veins beneath her eyes became obvious and she locked her mouth onto the woman's shoulder, effortlessly piercing the skin. The blonde moaned loudly and Elena held her close. To the ignorant eye, it would appear that two women were simply having a tryst in a shadowy corner. There was nothing to suggest foul play, nothing to make observers feel uncomfortable, only two incredibly attractive women pawing drunkenly at each other in a dark part of the club.
Elijah didn't consciously decide to leave his seat, but, completely intoxicated by the Elena's scent and the smell of fresh blood, realised that he was suddenly standing behind the blonde, his chest against her back, his now-aching erection settled between her buttocks.
Elena growled instinctively, sensing the presence of another supernatural creature and wanting to keep her meal for herself, but when her eyes eventually opened she blinked at him stupidly, trying to recall his face through her haze of blood lust and ecstasy. When her mind eventually caught up, she pulled her mouth away sharply, gently pushing the woman into his arms.
He wasn't sure if she was aware of what she was offering him. Blood had escaped her mouth and trickled down her chin, dripping onto the swell of her breasts and under her dress. He watched the path of the liquid, captivated.
Her eyes were wild, some instinctual part of her unsure of how to proceed.
She recognised that he was far more powerful than she, and so had respectfully stopped feeding, but he hadn't taken away her lovely prey, and if anything he seemed more aroused than hungry.
He gazed at her hotly and she tilted her head, wanting instruction or at least some indication of what Elijah reached over to brush a curl away from Elena's face and her eyes narrowed and widened again, her chest heaving as she fought to regain control of herself.
Something deep inside of her was telling her to run, screaming at her that this was an Original vampire, that he could kill her, that she should be terrified, that she should shove the woman at him and get as far away as she could as quickly as she was able. And yet she didn't move, coyly holding his eyes.
Elijah's arm wound around the blonde woman, his hand finding Elena's waist, and he roughly pulled both women closer to him, with the blonde sandwiched in the middle. His mouth opened and he bit into her neck, ignoring her whimper of pain. He was not as gentle as Elena, he was too tightly wound to care, and when he looked up Elena was watching him with a profound fascination. He inhaled deeply as a fresh wave of her arousal washed over him and he smirked against the blonde's throat, glad to know he was affecting Elena as much as she had affected him.
Slowly, Elena lowered her head again, covering the previous wound with her mouth and beginning to drink with refreshed intensity. Elijah's hand on her waist tightened, his fingers rubbing soothing patterns into her back, and she moaned at the knowledge that she was sharing a feed.
The woman began to struggle between them and Elena made to pull away, but Elijah placed his other hand on the back of her head, encouraging Elena to continue with the feed and preventing her from pulling away. There was a dark promise in her eyes that thrilled him, and when he knotted his fingers in her hair, her eyes rolled.
The life force of the woman pinned between them was waning, but in this moment Elijah honestly didn't care. He was too focussed on the increasing scent of Elena's arousal, on relieving the insistent pressure in his groin, on continuing this most primal of experiences, and even as the blonde woman fainted, Elijah didn't stop. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to slit the throat of the next person he saw, bathe Elena in their blood and spend a foreseeable amount of time cleaning her up with his tongue.
Elena – somehow more aware than him – pulled her head back, managing to yank the woman away from Elijah and sitting her down in a nearby chair. Elijah momentarily forgot his surroundings and almost went to retrieve his meal, angry at Elena for stealing her, and then Elena bit into her wrist, shoving the wound against the unconscious woman's mouth until she became a little more responsive.
She could feel Elijah's presence behind her and she swallowed thickly. His appearance had been a not-unwelcome surprise, though the lust that had been clearly displayed in his eyes had been a total shock. She could feel his erection brushing against her hip and it was enough to make her realise the gravity of what had just happened.
The tension between them was palpable, and though she could now sense the beginnings of Elijah's remorse for almost draining an innocent woman, his rising level lust was a great deal more apparent.
As soon as the woman's heartbeat had returned to an acceptable pace and it was generally accepted that she was going to survive their onslaught, Elijah grabbed Elena's hand in a punishing grip and wrenched open a locked door, the deadbolt shattering beneath his strength.
He shoved her through the opening and into the narrow corridor beyond, slamming her into the adjoining wall.
"I have to have you," he almost demanded, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss.
Elena could do nothing but agree as he lifted her still-bleeding wrist to his lips, anchoring his teeth into the wound and taking several deliberate mouthfuls of her blood. She moaned helplessly, arching her back and fisting her other hand in his shirt, tearing the expensive cotton to reach his chiselled abdomen. She'd never had another vampire take her blood before and it set her skin on fire.
"Blood sharing is kind of... personal."
She wondered why. She'd drank from Damon once or twice, but out of necessity rather than for sexual pleasure, and though Damon was quite sexually progressive, blood sharing had never been something that the two had done. She'd never asked why, and he'd never volunteered the information. Elijah didn't seem much bothered by the 'personal aspect' – he'd leapt right over that boundary without even consulting her - Elena mused, feeling her core begin to burn uncomfortably with lust at the feel of his teeth on her skin.
Elijah released her wrist and Elena fearlessly offered her neck instead, a quiet wail of rapture escaping her lips as his fangs pierced her jugular. Elijah hissed as her nails raked over his stomach and around to his back, and he smirked against her neck as she pulled him impossibly closer, her thighs parting eagerly for him to settle between them.
At the feel of his erection against her stomach, Elena inclined her head, her eyes heavily lidded with desire. He caught her mouth again, his lips hot and demanding against hers, thrusting his tongue inside the cavity of her mouth and groaning when she eagerly responded, sweeping her own tongue along his elongated canines. He nipped at her lip, breaking the skin, and the couple moaned in unison as her blood washed into their mouths.
Her hands desperately cupped his face, her nails digging into his neck, and she laughed breathlessly when he lifted her, his powerful hands wrapping her legs forcefully around his waist. He grabbed for her rear, angling her hips just so, and when he shifted against her she mewled in his ear.
"Elijah," she keened, "God..."
Elijah moved one of his hands to tug on her hair, forcibly arching her back and displaying the creamy skin of her neck. He sank his teeth into the join of her neck and shoulder, taking a hard pull of her blood, and she whimpered at his onslaught, grinding her hips against his erection.
She was overwhelmed by his complete dominance over her; God, she hadn't seen him in a decade and she'd let him take her here, now, if only he kept rolling his hips just like that.
"Elijah?" Rebekah's voice filtered softly across the club - clearly, his sister was looking for him - and her warning tone brought him back to himself. Elijah stiffened, slowly withdrawing his fangs from Elena's throat, barely managing to repress the pleased smirk that threatened when she hissed at the loss.
The two of them glanced in the direction of Rebekah's voice, unsure of how to proceed. Elijah was conflicted; it was unusual for him to feel lust to such an overwhelming degree and he wanted to act on it, but it wouldn't be proper to take her under these circumstances, when she was overexcited by the intensity of their shared feed and unsure of how she truly felt about it.
Elena frowned, seeing his internal debate and fully intending to pull Elijah's face back to her neck and demand that he ravish her immediately, but there was a resolute finality in his eyes that stopped her.
"I don't know what came over me," Elijah admitted, though the battle between 'take her and consequences be damned' and his conscience raged on inside his head. "Forgive my forwardness."
She tilted her head to the side, reaching to touch the throbbing bite. She didn't speak, too afraid of what she might say, or worse: that he would dismiss her and wander off to find someone else.
"I apologise for..." He glanced down at the wound, the scent of her blood luring out the predator inside of him again, and he went quiet, grasping at the strands of his self control.
"Don't," Elena replied, her eyes dark. "I wanted it. I still do."
He pushed her backwards again, her spine coming into contact with the wall for a second time, and he loved the challenge that blazed in her eyes. He lowered his mouth to her ear and shivered. "Do not tempt me, Elena."
She hummed low in her throat, staring between the pulse point at the base of his throat and his lips. "Why not?"
"Because if I were to take you in the manner that I so badly want to, let me assure you: you wouldn't be able to walk for a week."
"Promise?" She stared impishly up at him, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth, and Elijah lifted her chin to place another kiss on her lips.
"Elijah?!"
Elena winced at Rebekah's shrill call, wondering how on earth she managed to make herself heard over the earsplittingly loud music inside the club, and raised an irritated eyebrow. "Is she your keeper?"
In spite of himself, Elijah laughed. "I had forgotten your sharp tongue."
Still feeling drunk from her blood binge, Elena waggled her eyebrows. "Then maybe I should remind you."
He placed a hand on her neck, neither squeezing nor applying pressure, but Elena swallowed uncomfortably all the same. Elijah held her chin aloft, his forefinger and thumb at opposing sides of her jaw, and he looked her up and down with great interest.
"Vampirism suits you, lovely Elena," Elijah drawled, "You are simply ravishing."
Elena boldly met his eyes. "Am I?"
Her directness was throwing him off a little, and he wondered if she had once again distanced herself from her emotions, but her eyes were open and expressive, her gaze almost burning him with its intensity.
His grip on her neck tightened momentarily and he leaned towards her, hissing his words in her ear. "The last time we met, you lied to me. I do not like being lied to, Elena."
She winced, both at the strength behind his hand and the inclination of his words. "The last time we met, I was a heartless bitch who was tired of feeling like I needed to be fixed."
"Yes," he recalled, "The Salvatores wanted the cure for you." He released her neck, smoothing his fingers over her flushed skin.
"They succeeded," Elena muttered darkly, "To a degree."
Intrigued by her tone, Elijah moved back to lean on the opposite wall. "Tell me."
"I shoved the cure down Katherine's throat and made her take it." Elena's gaze never faltered, and he was impressed by the even quality of her voice. "I didn't want the cure. I tried to give it to Stefan. But then Katherine tried to kill me, so-"
"So you defended yourself," Elijah replied with a shrug, "Understandable."
"I forced it into her mouth and broke her jaw so that she had to swallow it. She became human. And then..." Elena's eyes narrowed a touch. "Katherine's dead, Elijah."
"I am aware of what became of Katerina," he informed her, "And I do not doubt her end was well deserved." He frowned slightly, remembering his last conversation with Katherine. His sadness in discovering that she had been using him to resolve her issues with Klaus had been short lived, and was Elijah's way, he had used his sadness to teach himself a valuable lesson in what became of trusting people who had proven numerous times that they were disloyal and deceitful to a fault. Katerina Petrova had changed him, robbing him forever of a large proportion of his optimism. Elijah liked to hope that people could change, that people could overcome the cards that fate had dealt them, and Katherine's final betrayal had damaged that, although he clung onto the remains of his beliefs for Klaus' sake.
He looked up at her, an inscrutable expression on his face. "I am sorry for the loss of your friends; Damon Salvatore and Bonnie Bennett."
Though her heart didn't clench painfully as it once had at the mention of their names, Elena blinked in surprise and swallowed. "It's a long story," she said softly, "I'd rather not talk about it. But they're gone, and they can't ever come back."
"I am sorry," Elijah repeated. "I understand that Damon was your boyfriend?"
"Not when he- when they-" She struggled. "We broke up before it happened, but I still... We still-"
He held up a hand, understanding her anguish. "It hurts to lose a loved one. Do not distress yourself." He stepped towards her, brushing her hair away from her face.
"I'm sorry," Elena whispered, "For lying to you in Willoughby. And for killing you in Mystic Falls. And then for helping your mother when she tried to kill you."
Elijah shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "This is not how I expected our evening to end, I will admit."
Elena smiled back, her face lighting up, and for a moment he saw the girl that she had been; the trusting, naive teenager that had overwhelmed him so with her compassion and love for her friends. "It doesn't have to end this way," she said, her voice quiet. Elena trailed her hands down the lapels of his suit, shivering at the feel of his defined pectoral muscles beneath. "It's still early."
"Indeed it is," Elijah replied, stroking a finger down the side of her face. She swallowed at his proximity, her entire body suddenly alive with nerve endings. She wasn't sure what she wanted him to do, but if his nearness was enough to stir such a feeling inside of her then she was intrigued to find out what else he could do to her.
He tilted her face up to his, and leaned in towards her. And then he stopped. "I knew it was you."
Distracted by the closeness of his lips, his words didn't immediately sink in. And then they did. "What?"
"In Willoughby; when I kissed you. I knew it was you." He shrugged it off, but she could see that he was heavily anticipating her reaction.
She gaped at him. "Then why did you kiss me? If you knew I wasn't Katherine, then why-"
He pulled her flush against his body, the movement instantly cutting off her speech. He held onto her wrists with one hand, suddenly pinning them above her head. "Because I couldn't not kiss you, Elena," he revealed, his voice low and rough.
"Elijah-" This time, she was interrupted by his mouth slanting over hers, taking advantage of her momentary shock to sweep his tongue into her mouth. She responded almost instantly, kissing him back with as much ardour as she could with her hands restrained.
His free arm wrapped around her waist, his fingers splaying on her back to hold her as close as he could, and the pressure made her spine arch.
She moaned at his passion; this was not the aftermath of the two of them sharing a feed, this was genuine emotion. It frightened her, but the sensations he was creating were distracting enough that she didn't have time to consider the ramifications of their actions.
A fire sprung to life in the pit of her stomach, screaming out for attention.
She told him so. "I want you," Elena breathed, entirely loving the way his pupils dilated and his jaw ticked, "Right here."
And just as he was about to drag her out into the New York night and hail a cab back to her apartment, Elijah's fingers brushed over the tender spot on her neck where he had bitten her. She shuddered and moaned, obsidian cloaking her eyes, the veins above her cheekbones darkening, her fangs elongating. She stared into his eyes, more a creature of lust in this moment than she had been before, and Elijah was powerless to resist.
Something inside of him refused to deny her anything, and he captured her mouth again, almost punishing her for making him lose his self control.
She tried in vain to free her wrists, hissing with frustration when he chuckled darkly at her struggles. "Patience, little girl." His lips lowered to her neck, kissing and nipping at her flawless nape, and then his attention fell to her collarbone. He released her hands, but when the muscles in her arms twitched, his eyes flashed.
"Keep them up there." Her insides quivered at the command; God, his voice, so calm and yet capable of inspiring such heat...
Elena could only nod helplessly at his demands, melting under his touch, not at all prepared for him to take such control over her and yet thoroughly enjoying that he had.
Elijah pulled her dress down without much hesitation, groaning quietly when he braless breasts were revealed. He took one nipple into his mouth, rolling the nub between his teeth as he palmed the opposite breast.
She cried out at the feeling, her head falling back against the wall, and though she longed to press his face against her, she could only arch her back and wordlessly beg for more. His mouth swapped to the other breast, his free hand trailing down her body towards the hem of her dress. "Please, Elijah..."
He stilled at her plea, smirking wolfishly at her. She shuddered at the expression - it did not bode well for her.
"You would beg me for it?"
Elena didn't even have to consider it. "Anything," she promised breathlessly, "I'll do anything."
He roughly lifted the bottom half of the garment, bunching it around her waist, and palmed her sex through the wisp of lace that barely covered it. He rubbed her once, twice, and a third time with the heel of his palm, his fingers just barely grazing the area where she longed to have him fill her.
"Tell me what you want," he demanded, grinding his hand against her and feeling her wetness increase beneath his fingers.
She stared down at him, unsure if she wanted to give in but desperately needing him to go further. She shook her head and his teeth pulled more insistently at her nipple, hiking the line between pleasure and pain into a blissful smudge. Her head thrashed against the wall, her arms still somehow over her head as he tugged hard on her nipple between his finger and thumb.
"Tell me, Elena," Elijah repeated, his treatment of her breasts merciless. "Elena..."
"Touch me!" She finally cried, practically weeping with desire, "Please, Elijah, God, touch me!"
He smirked at her, but complied with her request, his middle finger dipping beneath her underwear and coming into contact with her quivering sex.
"So wet," he groaned, moving his finger a little through her folds. But he only penetrated her very shallowly, not enough to provide any relief, just enough to stoke the fire of her lust.
She jolted at the feel of his bare skin against hers, her chest heaving. "For you," she breathed, "You did this to me."
"Elijah," Elena near-sobbed, "Please..."
"Please, what, Elena?"
His finger slipped a little more into her, and the pace of his palm increased slightly.
"More," she begged, "More, Elijah."
"More?"
Elena nodded mindlessly. "Yes!"
Then his finger was gone, her underwear was torn away, and his face was inches from her centre, his fingers even closer. "Say it," he demanded, "Tell me."
Elena stilled, staring down at him in excitement. "Touch me," she said instantly, "Please, Elijah. Touch me."
His mouth found her engorged clit almost instantly, suckling hard on the nub at the apex of her thighs. Two of his fingers thrust into her without warning, and she moaned loudly, her pitch raising to something akin to a scream when his teeth nibbled on his clit. His fingers curled inside of her in sync with his tongue and teeth on her bud, the pace almost unbearably fast and rough. Her orgasm was swift and unforgiving, taking her entirely by surprise. The sensation exploded in her lower body, rolling out to her extremities in a crashing wave of bliss, and he watched in awed satisfaction as she flew to pieces in his hands.
Waiting until she had ridden out her pleasure, Elijah stood up again, sucking her essence off his fingers.
She shoved his suit jacket off of his shoulders, gripping his pristine shirt by the collar and tearing it down the middle, the buttons flying in all directions. Elena went still at the sight of his bare chest; he was thickly muscled, his shoulders impossibly broad and toned. She traced her fingers down his chest and along the raised muscles of his abdomen, stilling at his belt buckle. Elena met his eyes for a second and then threw herself into the task, undoing the belt, pulling it out of the loops and tossing it to one side.
Elijah was content to watch her for the time being, enthralled with her entirely. In some of her movements she was confident, clearly well versed in some of the aspects of love-making, but in other areas she hesitated and made him like her that much more.
The button on his trousers popped and they fell around his ankles; Elena didn't want to wait anymore, pulling him close by the waistband of his boxer briefs and moaning when he lifted her into his arms, the tip of his weeping erection already pressing into her bare sex through his underwear.
He caught her lips again, pouring his feelings into the kiss. He wasn't particularly sentimental about sex, but he was sentimental about her, and it was important that she knew that he wasn't going to consider this as a totally meaningless and random encounter.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands resting at his hips for a moment before she ripped his underwear down the sides. She stared at him, pressing her almost-bare chest against his and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. "Take me," she whispered against his mouth, "I want you, Elijah."
"Then you shall have me."
He lifted her a little higher, aligning their centres perfectly, and her thighs tightened around his waist. His erection bobbed between them and her eyes widened at the size; he was well endowed, his girth was almost as thick as her wrist. She met Elijah's gaze, anxious for the first time since their tryst had begun, and he smirked darkly, reaching down to trail his fingers through her wetness. He spread her fluids over his length, and then impaled her upon it.
She let out a muted scream at the feeling and her head banged against the wall; he was big, almost too big.
It was as if her insides couldn't decide if he was inflicting pain or pleasure. Elijah's head fell against her shoulder, a hiss of air escaping between his clenched teeth. "Fuck, Elena. So tight."
Her internal muscles clenched at the curse word, and they moaned loudly in unison.
Elena managed to meet his eyes, stroking her fingers down the length of his face. "Elijah..."
He withdrew from her almost completely, halting a moment before surging back in again. He grabbed her hips, angling them just so, and began a merciless rhythm, drilling his hips in and out of her heat in a steady pace, all but ignoring her pleas for more; faster, harder, more.
He canted his hips and she mewled as his length hit that spot inside of her, her legs tightening to the point of pain around his waist. With three expert thrusts of his hips, she was screaming with pleasure, falling into the abyss of orgasm with such a force that her vision blackened.
His legs collapsed beneath him and he landed on the floor, still inside of her.
Elena fell limply against his chest, taking a second to collect herself before sitting up and smiling darkly at him. She raised her lower half off of his, easing back down so slowly that Elijah's eyes rolled back. She maintained her rhythm, using all of her strength in her efforts to hold him down as she grinded her hips against his, her pelvic bone rubbing against his with every downward motion.
He reached for her breasts, tugging on her nipples to the point of pain, and Elena again flew to pieces in his arms, the combined stimulation tipping her over the edge.
Elijah didn't wait for her orgasm to recede, flipping them over and hiking her legs over his shoulders, pounding into her wet heat with such strength that the floor beneath them began to crack under the strain. His ministrations prolonged her orgasm and she cried out as he bit into her calf, his thumb vibrating against her clit as he drank from her lower leg.
A wordless cry escaped her mouth as she climbed higher still. She had never come for this long and her entire body trembled as he gave one final thrust, releasing himself inside of her with a long pull of her blood.
He shifted their positions, releasing her legs and gently rolling onto his side, pulling her head into his chest. Elena moaned at the loss as his length slipped out of her, nuzzling her face into his shoulder.
They lay like that for a while and then she hesitantly sat up, adjusting her dress and doing all she could to avoid looking at his naked body.
Elijah watched her, bemused by her actions and apparent sudden shyness. He opened his mouth to speak, and she smiled, cutting off whatever he was about to say.
"Can we not do this?"
He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as she slipped back into her shoes – not that he remembered her taking them off. "You're going to have to elaborate."
"This," she gestured between them, "The awkward post-sex talk. Let's just agree that we had an amazing night together and-"
He was standing in front of her in an instant, his pointer finger pressed gently to her lips. "It doesn't have to be just the one night. Not if you don't want that."
"I don't know what I want," Elena replied in a soft voice. She pulled his hand away from her face, leaning up to press a kiss against his cheek. "It was nice to see you again, Elijah."
And then she was gone.
She wasn't at all surprised to open her front door three days later to find him standing in the hallway outside of her apartment, a bunch of beautiful multicoloured daisies clasped in his left hand.
She'd never noticed before, but he smelled divine, like sandalwood and peppermint and raw masculine power.
She swallowed at the sight of him, looking as pristine as ever in a navy suit and a crisp white shirt. She felt underdressed in her yoga pants and tank top, suddenly hyper aware that she wasn't wearing a bra, and blushed when she realised that he too had taken note of this fact.
He appeared completely calm, a hint of a smirk pulling at his mouth. "Good morning, Elena."
"Well, that took even less time than I thought it would," she observed with a sigh, leaning in the door jam, her arms folded and one of her eyebrows arched. "I'm impressed." She gave him a small smile. "How did you find me?"
"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," Elijah said nonchalantly, leaning down to pick up a small paper bag by his feet and then holding it aloft for her to catch a hint of the scent emanating from within. "I brought croissants."
Elena grinned. "Well, in that case, I suppose I'd better invite you in."
Fin
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