a/n: I just couldn't wait to write this story, and even though I'm only uploading it now, I wrote it at the end of October before 'Trick or Treat'. The idea was haunting me and just needed to be written. For some of my readers thanksgiving was last month, and for some it is in November. As a girl of both Canada and America I celebrate both. Anyways, here goes…the newest installment to my Holiday series. Happy Reading!
Dedicated to my wonderful readers that welcomed the idea of our favorite couple on the kitchen table and especially to those that demanded I write the love scenes slower and with more detail. I have been working on that lately with this story and my last few and I hope it's been noticed!
Damon continued to glare at the ceiling of his bedroom as he had for the past hour. He'd always ripped on Stefan for being brooding, but dammit sometimes a good pity party was all that someone needed. The Rippah and Psycho Baby Sister had high tailed it out of Mystic Falls on Klaus's request for them to join him, but even though he and Elena had grown closer in the few weeks of alone time, there had been no real developments. And now he would have to get through tonight with a smile and the patience he'd been practicing so well for months.
Jeremy had gone with Bonnie to her father's for thanksgiving weekend and Ric had decided to drown himself in a bottle of whiskey. While Damon and Elena had seen improvements in the vampire hunter, Damon had forced her to agree to let him have this one day to wallow. As a recently recovering alcoholic, Damon could understand the pull holidays could have on one's needs. Damon had nearly convinced himself to staying in bed until dinner was ready, but a loud crash from below had him up in a instant.
Elena wasn't supposed to be over until noon to start dinner. With a click glance at the clock he confirmed he still had at least another hour before the temptation of a human entered his house and began stirring his emotions. In a blur he was down the stairs and across the living room to the entrance of the kitchen where he discovered the loud clatter had been Elena after all. She'd tried to grab a pan from the hanging display above the island and ended up sending it all crashing.
There was a streak of flour across her face, and gravy stains on her shirt. She looked incredibly adorable and to keep from reaching out for her I turned the attraction I felt to frustration. "What the hell are you doing?"
Her look of apologetic surprise faded to defensive anger as she stood straight. "The recipe called for a longer time to cook than I thought, so I figured I would come over earlier." Her tone was short and clipped as she turned from him to clean up the mess she'd made.
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Incredible, they'd been in the same room for thirty seconds and he'd already made an ass of himself. If he kept this up it was going to be a long tense night. "I'm sorry, the sound just shocked me. I knew you weren't supposed to be here yet so I thought it could have been another visitor." He remembered the altercation with Mason a few weeks ago and didn't feel like going through anything like that again.
"It's okay." She nodded, but didn't sound very forgiving. Wanting to change the subject, she pulled the recipe card from her back pocket and continued to read the instructions. "I have a lot of things to do in here so…"
He could tell that she was trying to dismiss him, that she was still hurt and that she wanted to be alone. Which is exactly why he came around the counter and grabbed the knife she'd been reaching for. "I never said you had to make this dinner all by yourself."
She gave him a long sideways glance then shook her head. "If you want to help than get the pie crust out of the freezer for me." Then she took the knife from him and began chopping the carrots and celery for the stuffing.
He stood with his back to the fridge for a few minutes just watching her, the way the late morning sun hit her hair through the windows, the way her hips moved slightly to the music he'd recently noticed she'd had playing low. He smelled the shampoo she'd used that morning and the unique scent that always seemed to follow her. Then, he heard her quick intake of breath and soft curse, quickly followed by the always more tempting scent of blood.
"Are you alright?" he asked, stepping forward.
When she turned to face him, he saw she'd sliced a small cut in the tip of her ring finger. The amount of blood wasn't enough to satisfy any of his cravings, but that didn't stop him from taking a step toward her. She didn't move away from him when he took her hand in his, surprised she didn't shrink away from his vamped out features. "I'm sorry." She said instead, looking down at the cut.
"You don't have to apologize for bleeding Elena." He said comfortingly, using all his self control to remain calm.
"It's affecting you." She lifted her uninjured hand to his face and smoothed her thumb over the veins under his eyes. There seemed to be a spell around them, holding them together, pushing them closer, and she wasn't sure what came over her, but she stepped into his arms.
"Everything about you effects me." He answered honestly and licked his lips. "Does that hurt?"
"A little." She shrugged, but not really able to feel anything but the tingling from where his fingers wrapped around her wrist and his hand found the skin at her back. "I should go rinse it off." But she didn't move away and neither did he.
Their eyes locked and she felt the air around them thicken as he pressed her closer to his chest, bringing her finger to his lips. At first he barely touched the cut, letting the scent envelop and stimulate him. The red trail had trickled down the length of her finger now, and she watched as his tongue trailed up, capturing the blood. When he reached the cut, he kept their gaze together as he slipped her fingertip between his lips.
She could have moaned then and there at the sensation. His tongue swirled around the tip of her finger lapping at the last few drops her wound would give. When he let her hand fall, she thought the spell would have ended, but it didn't. He trapped her with his arms between him and the counter, leaning over her almost menacingly. "Why did you let me do that?" he asked, confused and excited at the same time.
"I don't know." She answered honestly, loving the feeling of being so desired by him. "It just felt right." Her words shocked him, unfortunately enough to bring him out of the haze they seemed to be trapped in, and when he pulled away suddenly she felt reality crash back down on her.
"You should rinse that." He agreed and turned back to the fridge to pull the crust out.
Elena felt the tingling sensation all over her body, but she repressed the shudder of pleasure and turned back to the carrots, especially careful of the knife this time around. "We should put the oven in the turkey in about an hour." She said, hoping her voice sounded calm and light.
Damon noticed the slip of her tongue, but made no response to it other than a smirk behind her back. "I suppose I'm in charge of stuffing it."
"Well, you are the man and it's the most disgusting job I've ever heard of, so yah."
"Technically I'm not a man anymore." He offered, trying to get out of the assignment.
"I'll remember that the next time you try and get me into bed." She laughed and glanced at him over her shoulder, glad to see that his eyes had returned to the normal shade of blue. There was something about him when he looked all vampy that set her blood boiling, and not in the way she wished.
When he only smiled she turned back to the chopping. Thirty minutes later she'd finished the stuffing and had placed the bowl in front of Damon and a very bare looking turkey. He looked at her with disgusted eyes and spoke for the first time since they'd gone back to work. Apparently, they'd decided mutually and with silence that it was best to put what had happened on the back burner for now. Dinner had to be made and since they were the only two people in town available to spend the holiday with, they had to make it through the night.
"This is not what I had in mind when I agreed to letting you make me dinner."
"Getting your hands a little dirty won't kill you." She gestured toward the bowl with her hands as she set to kneading out the dough for the pie covering.
"I don't mind getting my hands dirty." He looked over at her, a wonderful glint to his eyes and a wicked smile on his lips that tempted hers.
She knew clearly what he had meant, but she decided it best to ignore him at this time. "Then get busy."
With a sigh, Damon glared at the raw bird and muttered curses under his breath as he began the simple, yet disgusting job. Then, a marvelous idea came to his mind, and he began taking large handfuls and pressing them flat against the bottom of the birds insides, completely destroying the fluffy stuffing she'd worked so hard on. Just as he hoped, so looked over to check on his progress and cried out, rushing over to his side of the counter. "Am I doing something wrong?" he asked, doing his best to play stupid.
"Haven't you ever done this before?" she asked as she tried to repair the damage he'd done.
"Not exactly."
With a sigh she moved to stand behind him and took a handful of the stuffing, showing him the right way to do it all. When he tried to copy her, he made sure he fumbled the attempt, forcing her to wrap her fingers around his wrist and show him exactly what he'd been doing wrong. Her hands were so small compared to his, her skin warm and lighter. "See now?" she asked, leaning over his shoulder.
"I was always more of a hands on kinda guy." He smiled and turned on the stool to face her.
She saw the menacing look in his eyes and backed away, her hands covered in stuffing were raised in self defense. "What are you doing Damon?" she asked, walking backwards until her back hit the fridge. She wasn't sure how she kept getting herself into the same position, trapped between him and an unmovable object.
"Getting my hands dirty." He smirked and took another step toward her. She stepped aside and grabbed the pecan pie that sat next to her waiting to go into the oven.
"Don't come near me." She warned looking between his eyes and his stuffing covered hands.
"You won't throw that at me." He dared and attempted to corner her again.
"Try me." She teased, unable to help the smile that slipped onto her lips. "Having no dessert might be worth the look on your face when I ruin that shirt."
He looked down at the black t-shirt that probably cost more than everything she was wearing. "If you even think about, you'll be paying for it."
"Ha!" she laughed and dodged him again, moving so the island was between them, the pie still raised in her hand. "I wouldn't even pay for the dry cleaning."
"I wasn't talking about money Elena." One step towards her equaled one of hers away from him. They made their way all the way around the counter again, the excitement of the chase taking over him.
"Don't make me ruin dinner Damon." She grinned and pulled her arm back a little, aiming for his chest. "Just give up and we can get back to work."
"I'm not really a fan of giving up."
"So I've noticed." She teased and he feigned hurt.
"That was a low blow."
"You deserved it. Now give it up and finish stuffing the turkey."
"What happens if I do?"
"You get a delicious dinner and a nice quiet, normal night with me."
He had to admit the offer did sound tempting, but a loud, incredible night seemed a lot more appetizing. "If I promise to sit down and finish can you agree to reconsider the terms?"
"Perhaps." Carefully and with caution she lowered the pie. "But I warn you, one more wrong move and we'll be eating dessert off you."
He slid back onto the stool and began again. "I'd rather it the other way around."
"I'm sure you would." She answered simply and grabbed the rolling pin from the drawer.
When the turkey and the pie were both in the oven Damon went to the living room to pour them both a glass of wine. He was craving bourbon, but it just didn't seem to go with the mood she was creating. When he went back to the kitchen, glasses in hand he found her setting the table and humming again. Elena in his home was definitely a sight that he could get used to, and he wondered how nice she would look in his bed. When she turned from smoothing the table cloth, the look in her eyes startled him and awoken the desire he'd only been toying with all day.
"How long do we have until dinner is ready?" he asked, setting the glasses down and stalking towards her, never dropping her gaze in fear that she would lose the obvious desire held there.
"The pie will need to come out in about an hour. The turkey at least four more."
"That's plenty of time." He stopped directly in front of her, their bodies whispers apart.
"For what?" she asked, her voice trembling even though she already knew the answer.
"For whatever comes after this." He said quietly, placing his hands on either side of her face and wrapping his fingers through her hair.
She didn't move away, she didn't hesitate and if he really thought about it, she was the one that closed the rest of the distance between them. Their lips met softly and carefully, tentavily as if they were afraid the other would break if they moved too much. Then her fingers were in his hair, tugging him down and closer to her. Her tongue slipped between his teeth and he heard the first moan come from low in her throat. He had to have her closer, he had to be inside her, and he didn't think he would be able to wait much longer.
Sliding his hands down her waist, over her hips and under her ass, he lifted her up; relived when she wrapped her legs around his waist. He was surprised when she pulled her shirt over her head, letting it drop somewhere behind him. Perhaps she was just as desperate for him as he was for her after all. Then he set her on the table, wrinkling the tablecloth she'd just set up. Thankfully she hadn't put the plates down yet or they would have ended up shattered on the floor as he pressed her against the surface.
"Damon." She moaned his name, breathing in his scent and tightening her hold on his waist when he seemed to pull away.
"It's alright." He ran his hands up and down her thighs once to soothe her, glad when she relaxed enough to allow him to undo her jeans and slide them from her legs.
His palms were rough against her smooth skin, but she didn't mind. Somehow it made his touch feel all the more real. "Don't stop Damon." She pleaded as his lips and tongue trailed up her bare stomach and over the rise of her breasts.
"I've waited so long to hear you say that." He would have been teasing had he not been being serious. "I love the way my name sounds on your lips."
She arched up into him as he slid his hand up her torso and between her breasts, up to her neck, pulling her chest against his so he could kiss her again. It seemed as though he would never be able to get enough of her. He'd hoped that once he'd kissed her some of the longing and pain would subside, but the lust and need to be with her only deepened. With a noise somewhere between a growl and a sigh he crushed his lips to hers, relishing in the feeling of having her complete attention. Their eyes locked as he slipped her bra from her arms, leaving her in only a piece of lace that didn't leave too much to the imagination.
He looked from her panties to her, quirking an eyebrow and curling his lip into a smirk. "Nice of you to dress up for me." He teased, bending down to run his tongue along her hips.
"Who says I did?" her voice was strained and breathless, her fingers tangling in his hair, pushing his head lower.
Damon could feel the heat of her arousal, smell her need for him and it was almost enough to cloud his mind. Hooking two fingers into the straps at her hips, he tugged the lovely excuse of underwear down her legs and let them drop to the floor. She cried in pleasure as he slipped one finger inside her, marveling at just how wet she was. Her body seemed to hum from his touch and he wondered how incredible that would feel if he was inside her. As she was about to fall over the edge of ecstasy, he pulled away and stepped back slightly.
She very nearly whimpered at the loss of contact and sat up on her elbows to see what he was doing. "Why did you stop?" the pout on her face didn't blend well with the sex hair or the flushed skin, but she looked adorable either way.
"Evening the playing field." He said and quickly shed himself of his shirt. When his hands came down to unbuckle his pants she stopped him, and slid forward on the table.
"I thought undressing you was my job." She smiled, almost a smirk and placed wet, warm kisses to his chest and stomach as she worked the pants open and down over his hips.
She'd assumed he would wear nothing beneath, that's just the kinda guy he was, but that didn't stop her from looking. When her small hand wrapped around him, Damon's hands gripped the edge of the table so hard he made dents in the wood. She smiled in satisfaction at his reaction and stroked for a minute, glad to see she wasn't the only one not in control of themselves. Damon stepped out of his pants and kicked them aside, pressing her back onto the table in one fast movement. Elena didn't have time to settle her equilibrium before Damon was on top of her, teasing her entrance with the tip of his hardness.
He could feel her wetness all the more now and as she moaned under him and rolled her hips up towards his, he couldn't help the chuckle that slipped from his lips. She didn't react to it, if she noticed the laugh, but she did reach around them to grab his ass and push him closer to her. "Impatient are we?" he teased, trailing his tongue up one side of her neck, then bringing her earlobe between his teeth.
"Very." She nodded and bucked up against him, relishing in the sensation of gaining another few centimeters of his length inside her. "Don't be mean Damon."
"Hardly." He pulled back to stare at her, the gleam in his eyes. "This slow torture will only make it feel more amazing when I do finally give you what you want."
"I thought it's what you wanted to." She offered, not sure how much longer she could stand the boiling of her own blood in preparation for him.
"I've been waiting a long time for this Elena, for you. You can deal with feeling a little of my pain." He bent his head again to suck at her neck, letting the vampire take over the man for a moment.
He could hear the rush of blood in her veins as her arousal set her body on fire. He knew how sweet she would taste in her current state, but he also knew that if he waited until she was cumming, that the sweetness would taste all the more. "I feel like I'm going to explode." She admitted, her nails digging into his back and her legs forcing him closer to her. Another few centimeters, would this never end?
"Let me know when it's gonna happen." He laughed again when she very nearly growled in his ear. "Elena, you are so much different than I imagined between the sheets."
"You can hardly call my mother's favorite tablecloth a sheet." She grimaced, realizing exactly what they were making love on.
"And while my great grandfather's table isn't the choice I'd had for taking you the first time, it's thankfully strong enough to hold us up."
"I'm sure you've tested it out before." She sighed, then gritted her teeth when he voluntarily slipped an inch inside her.
He felt her walls tighten around him at the gain, but he knew it was far from over. "You don't really want the answer to that right now do you?" he asked, tickling her sides lightly.
She shook her head and lifted up a little to pull him back down, flush against her. "I don't want to think about anything else right now, other than you and me and how fucking incredible you feel inside me."
Her words did something to him he hadn't expected. He was all that she wanted right now, and even if after the euphoria of the moment ended and she regretted this, he would have the memory that she belonged to him in these few minutes. She gasped and screamed when he gave her last few inches she'd been so desperate for. Sure that he would make love to her now, she whimpered when he pulled out of her, only his tip remaining. She didn't think she would be able to take the slow torture again, but then he thrust into her quickly and she clung to him from the force.
The pain she'd expected never came, and she was glad that he'd waited so long to slip inside her. Her aching wetness tightened around him, pulsating from the pleasure of finally being full. He couldn't believe that they were here, locked together and finally becoming one. She pressed up into him, her breasts tight against his chest, her breath hot on his face. It was all too real, and all to like a dream at the same time. "Fuck Elena, you feel so incredible. So tight, I can't believe I waited this long to have you."
She was sure she'd had an answer for him, but when he rocked his hips against her and placed some of the pressure onto her clit, stars erupted in front of her eyes and she was lost to the pleasure again. "Don't stop Damon." She pleaded, scratching at his back and shoulders. "Don't ever stop."
He brought her closer to him, somehow that was possible, and set her legs on his shoulders. The new angle turned her moans to screams and when he felt her contract around him, he bent down and bit into her thigh. She cried out again, but there were still no traces of pain on her face. Her blood was sweet and salty at the same time as she rode out her orgasm under him. The scent of her, from her wound to her wetness was overwhelming him and he bit back on the instinct of draining her. Being with her was definitely dangerous, he decided and even then knowing he would never be able to give her. Even if it was for her own good.
When he heard the pounding of her heart begin to weaken and slow he pulled back and thrust into her again, tapping into his vampire powers and using the speed he'd practiced. Not too much so she wouldn't feel him, but enough that he brought her back to the height she'd slowly been drifting down from. He felt her legs clamp tighter around him and watched her head tilt back, exposing the long, tempting lines of her neck. He wasn't sure if she would able to take anymore blood loss, but she'd tasted so good.
She turned her head to the side, as she moaned his name. It was as if she was offering herself to him and that he couldn't resist. As one hand massaged her clit, the other teased her nipple and she barely could stand him seeming to be everywhere at once. His lips found hers again, and then went back to her neck, attacking as he'd done before. This time she was certain he would bite though, and when she felt his fangs cut into her skin again she arched into his body, clawing at his arms.
"I love you Damon." She moaned as the new waves of pleasure crashed over her senses. She barely heard his reply over the rush of her orgasm.
"You are mine Elena, forever."
A few minutes later the timer went off and Elena pushed a sated Damon off her. He pushed himself up from the table and watched her naked form run to the oven and pull the pie out. Yes, Elena in his kitchen was definitely something he could get accustomed to seeing.
a/n: there you go my darling readers. The fifth in my Holiday series. Not sure what else I could come up with for Thanksgiving, but I'm sure gonna try to come up with another smutty plot. Perhaps something to with Delena telling the other what their thankful for and one of them spills the already obvious love beans. Hehe ;) comment please!