I do not own anything, I'm just borrowing them. This is my first fanfic submission, so I'd love reviews and feedback! Hope you enjoy - it's my intention to make this a full story.
Elena sat down next to him on the bed, set the bloody bottle on the nightstand carefully, and turned to him. She took his hands, leaned down and cocked her head to the side to meet his eyes.
"Did it really work? Are you..." She let her words trail off, feeling the sweat that still covered him, his hands clammy. She touched him delicately, as if he could break at any moment. He looked at her, his eyes wide, his face expressionless, and rolled up his left sleeve. They both let out a deep, gusty breath.
"It's gone." Damon said, running his fingers along the inside of his elbow. He felt strange, ill at ease in his own body. "Something still isn't right." His words were almost a whisper. Elena pressed him back down into the pillows. She wiped the sheen of sweat off his forehead, looked at him quizzically for a few moments.
"You look," she paused, searching for the right word. "Normal." Well, she thought to herself, normal if vampires could look like they had just gotten over the flu.
"I'm hungry," he drawled. He ran his tongue over his lips, wishing desperately for something warm to drink. Elena touched her fingers to his cheek and found him warm.
"Here," she murmured, curling into his body and sweeping her hair to one side. The sensitive skin of her neck rested just a breath away from his lips.
"No." His voice was a horse whisper. "Elena, I -"
"I trust you, Damon." She looked him in the eyes, and he could see the pain there. "I can't lose you tonight, too." He returned her gaze, searching for something then, finding it, he nodded.
"Relax while I do this, 'Lena. If you can relax it won't hurt. I'll be as gentile as I -" She shushed him by pressing her throat closer, making contact between her supple flesh and his hungry mouth. He couldn't have resisted in that moment if he had wanted to. The smell of her, the feel of her curled into him, was more than he could bear. He snaked his fingers through her hair, maneuvering her head subtly into position. His canines had already elongated, searing like fire as they extended, then made contact with her neck. With the gentleness of a lover he punctured a vein, her blood flowing like a fine wine onto his tongue.
Elena went still and soft in Damon's arms, careful to keep her head position just so - to make it easier for him to drink. Her mind was still reeling from the events of the evening. She had almost lost Damon without a word, without even a goodbye. He would have died protecting the people she cared about, without the forgiveness he had so earnestly ask for. Damon, she thought to herself. Oh Damon. She knew now that it was his love for her that had brought him back from the loss of his own humanity.
She had chosen Stefan, had fallen in love with him before she had really known who he was, or even what. She took a deep, slow breath, feeling the soft lapping of Damon's tongue, and pressed the hand that she had wrapped around him more firmly, nestling her body deeper into his embrace.
She hadn't been lying when she said she liked him just the way he was - he may not have been the most compassionate of the Salvatore brothers, but he had always been the most loyal, the most honest. Unlike Stefan, Damon had never hidden the darkness inside, never pretended that he was only one facet of his personality. She smiled sadly with her eyes still closed, and just was.
In the trance of the feeding he could almost see into her mind, feel how dangerously close she was to despair. While he drew the blood gently, oh so gently from her, he opened his mind, enveloped her with all the love that he felt for her. He wished powerfully that he could take away the heartache. If what Katherine had said was true, Stefan was never coming back - at least not any time this century. There would be time for them both to grieve Stefan, but for now... Damon couldn't even put together a coherent thought. All he knew was that the woman he loved was in his arms, warm and safe, and that he was never letting her go.
When he slowly pulled his fangs from her neck he kissed the little marks he had left there.
"Thank you, Elena." Damon gathered her body up and held her closer still. She sighed comfortably and smiled at him, her eyes heavily lidded and soft. "Everything about you is just so, so soft." He let his long fingers trace circles over her cheeks, down her neck, and he could hear her heart begin to race as he let his hands travel down her sides, just skimming the sides of her breasts. Again she was still in his arms, her eyes wide now.
When his clever fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt, then slipped beneath it she gasped, and pressed herself closer. When his palms caressed her hips, the flatness of her stomach, she sighed his name, then her hands began to wander too.
"Elena, you should –" She stopped him with the soft press of her lips against his.
"This night, just this one, is for us – a gift from Stefan. Don't waste it." Elena's voice was a thick mixture of pleasure and despair.
"God, Elena, I just wish I could take the pain away." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, stilled his hands to look at her.
"You can, Damon. Tonight, for me, you can." The stillness erupted into movement as he pressed her body down into the bed, pulled off her shirt, helped her pull off his. He kneeled over her, his eyes blazing, and just looked at her. She was his angel, his redemption. He blinked back tears, felt her slender fingers loosening his belt, unbuttoning his tight black pants. He gloried in the feeling of her fingers as they teased beneath the waistband of his boxers. He groaned, felt her skin cool against his own.
In one quick jerk he has smoothly pulled her pants down to her ankles - he cursed as he fumbled with her sneakers. He still felt strangely weak, clumsy even. Finally he managed to tear them off, along with her pants and a delicate pair of emerald green panties that matched the bra she was wearing. He flashed her a quick 250 kilowatt smile, his expression one of amusement as well as appreciation. Could this really be real?
But she was real, moving beneath him, running her fingers appreciatively over his well muscled chest, letting them play down his flat belly, to the soft patch of black hair below. She pulled roughly at the waist of his pants, effectively shucking them off after he shifted to kick them to the floor. Then there he was, gloriously nude in front of her, a dark god.
"Oh Damon," she pulled him down on top of her, showering him with frenzied kisses and stroking his back. With his name on her lips he plunged into her, filling her utterly. She arched her back, bucking her hips wildly as he pumped his length into her.
Her body was electric beneath him, moving in ways that made him ache. He had never been with anyone like her before. It was as if she was meant for him the way their bodies melded together. He reigned hot kisses down on her, pressing his lips against hers until hers were swollen and thick. Then he trailed them down her neck and shoulders, pleasing himself by sucking her erect nipple, bringing her closer to climax with his teeth and tongue.
"'Lena," he whispered, everything inside him building up, pressing forward toward release. He could feel, too, the pressure building in her, two bodies struggling toward one another. "My 'Lena," his words were an oath, and he brought her home, feeling her spasming, pulling at his manhood. Elena threw her head back beneath him, moaning throatily.
"I love you, Elena." He pressed his body over hers, needing her skin on his.
"Damon, I -" Elena voice was a murmur. He pressed her into his chest, suddenly terrified at how she would end that sentence, and the words were lost in the quiet sounds of the bed shifting beneath them as Damon rolled across her and drew her up again in his arms.
###
"Good morning, sunshine." Damon was up and awake before Elena the next morning, and he was in a strange but good mood. He held out a cup of coffee to her and she blinked repeatedly, trying to orient to where she was and how she had gotten there. Her heart skipped in her chest when she remembered what had happened the night before.
"Hi," she replied shyly as she accepted the steaming mug. A slight smile touched the edges of her mouth and Damon had to stop himself from kissing her. She took a pensive sip of coffee, wrapping both hands around the warmth of the cup. She made an appreciative 'mmm' noise and swallowed, then looked up at Damon, met his icy blue eyes with her deep brown ones.
"Come on downstairs," Damon raised his eyebrows and smiled. "I made breakfast." Elena raised one finely arched brow at this, then shrugged into the warm robe that Damon held out for her.
When she was seated at the cozy, round wooden table in the kitchen, Damon served her up a plate of eggs, bacon and toast. She smiled at him, and he slid into the chair across from her, his own plate in his hand.
"How are you?" She asked him, a little puzzled. "I don't think I've ever seen you eat before."
"Well, Elena," he held up a thick piece of meat, took a bite. "Not even vampires can resist bacon." He faltered for a moment, surprised at how good the bacon tasted. Generally food tasted like – well, like cardboard. He chewed thoughtfully, enjoying the subtle flavors, then shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. His eyes narrowed as he ate, the eggs – simple scrambled eggs – were so creamy and salty.
"What?" Elena asked over a mouthful of toast with grape jam. He looked suddenly suspicious, as if the food had been laced with vervain.
"I'm – I'm not sure. This tastes so good. I don't think I've tasted food like this since –" Damon threw down his fork suddenly sprang up from the chair and paced across the kitchen. Before she could even get up he had pulled a knife out of the knife block on the counter and had sliced a thin gash across his forearm.
"Damon!" She shouted, jumping up from the table. "What are you doing?" He set the knife on the counter with his back turned to her, then turned slowly, his eyes trained on the cut he had just made.
"Elena, it's not healing." He pressed his other hand over the wound, his eyes wide with terror. "I – I think Klaus' blood made me human."
"That's not – is that possible?" Elena's voice trembled violently as she crossed the room to touch Damon's shoulder. She took his hand and uncovered the angry gash on his forearm. She pressed the fingers of both hands to her lips with a look of horror.
"This is so, so bad." Damon muttered. Then his eyes fluttered and he sank to the floor.