She could feel his eyes on her again, but it didn't matter. She was strong – strong for the brother who had nobody else, strong for the friends who'd had their lives turned upside down this past year, strong for the boyfriend she had to believe could still come back to her somehow.

She was too strong to cave to temptation. So it didn't matter that her breath caught in her throat whenever she looked into those piercing eyes, just like it didn't matter that her cheek still burned where he'd touched it when he was patching her up just now. Just like it didn't matter that her first thought when she was scared out of her mind was 'Where were you Damon?'.

Her love life had already brought mayhem and heartbreak and even death to so many of the people around her. One vampire would have to be enough. She was resolved, and she was strong.

Even if it was killing her.

She was Stefan's. He knew that had to be it, why she still wasn't letting him in. Why she held herself back, kept that distance between them even when her could hear her heart pounding every time he looked directly at her. She wanted him, he could see it, but she wouldn't let herself have him. He was even pretty sure that she loved him, but it made no difference.

There was only one reason he could think of Elena's stubborn refusal to admit to her desire. Whatever she felt for him, she loved Stefan more.

He'd come to accept that. He understood loving Stefan. He could see that his brother was the one who deserved her. He'd tried to make it easier for her, been the jackass, done as much as he could bring himself to in order to push her away.

Even when Stefan left with Klaus he'd helped her - he figured he owed both of them that much. He loved her enough that her happiness meant more to him than his own, and if it took being with his brother for her to be happy then so be it.

But it was different now. Stefan was gone, and he knew on a primal level that there was no bringing his brother back this time. Belonging to Stefan wasn't going to make Elena happy anymore, it was just going to make her dead. Now, when he knew it was in her best interests and not just his, Damon finally gave himself permission to do what he'd been aching to for so long.

He decided that, this time, he was going to get the girl.

Life seemed like a bad dream these days, but Elena fought. Sometimes it took everything she had just to put one foot in front of the other, but she refused to let herself retreat from the world like she had after her parents' death. She was older now, and there was no Jenna to lean on. Besides, she wasn't the only one with problems. She looked at her friends and what they had been through, so much of it as a result of her and her choices, and she knew that if Caroline could keep organising pep rallies and Matt could keep pulling double shifts at the grill just to pay the rent on the place he now had to live in alone then she could sure as hell keep getting out of bed in the morning.

Her journal lay closed and gathering dust in a corner of her bedroom. That was the old Elena, hiding in graveyards and lost in introspection. This Elena had seen people she loved lay down their lives for her, and she wasn't about to give up on something which so many people would risk everything to protect. Everything that happened to her just fed her determination to live.

Still she ignored the voice in the back of her mind. The one that told her she wasn't letting herself live life to the fullest, that she wasn't going to until she stopped trying so hard to be strong for everybody else and acted on the thoughts that seemed to be taking up more and more of her time lately.

Then, one day, she snaps. She can pinpoint what is exactly that changes her mind - she's sitting on the couch, listening to Caroline and Bonnie trade horror stories about the boyfriends who are never there. She catches Bonnie's wince as the two of them realise that they're complaining non stop about guys who, last they checked, haven't been trying to kill any of their friends and their pity stops her in her tracks.

She isn't going to be that girl. She doesn't want sympathetic glances and friends walking on eggshells around her. Right there and then Elena decides that she's going to be happy.

And she knows just what she needs to make that happen.

Damon hasn't felt like this since he was alive. Fidgeting, he paces around the main hall of the manse. Elena called to say she was coming over, which is nothing new. She's probably got some grand plan to pull Stefan back from the brink, wants to run it by her most loyal supporter. What she doesn't know is that he's not going to be listening patiently this time, not going to let her maintain that careful distance.

Tonight, he is going to make her face his feelings for him, and thought is giving him butterflies. He didn't think you could get butterflies when you were a century and a half old.

Hearing her car as she pulls into the driveway, he snaps to attention. As he stares at the door he realises that even if he did breathe, he wouldn't be able to right now.

Elena shakes her head as her footsteps crunch across the gravel. She's half terrified, every fibre of her being screaming at her to run, to lock herself away in her room and write in her journal, to take these feelings and bury them deep. But overriding the panic is exhilaration, and the sure knowledge that this – that he – is what she wants.

Reaching the door, Elena squares her shoulders and wipes the palm of her hand on her jeans before reaching out and slowly turning the handle. As she steps over the threshold the sight of Damon brings her up short.

Something's different, she can already tell. Normally when she turns up she finds him lounging casually, pretending to be engrossed in a book, ready with a quip to make her blush. She knows he hears her approaching the house, but he never lets on that he's waiting for her. This time he's standing motionless, a few feet from the door. His blue eyes are burning into her and her immediate reaction is to panic.

"Damon! Has something happened? Is it Stefan?"

At the mention of his brother's name Damon's resolve almost crumbles. Stefan's still the first thing on her mind, evidently. Maybe it's best to leave things as they are – maybe if he forces her to confront what they have she'll decide to reject it. He isn't sure if he can take that.

But the thought of just standing by, watching, as Elena pines for the man who has turned into a monster – that he knows he won't be able to stand. So he summons every ounce of his courage and crosses the space between them.

"No, Elena – this isn't about Stefan!" He's inches from her face now, spitting the words out with venom which surprises even him. Her eyes widen and for a moment he worries that he's frightened her, but the emotions he's been holding back for so long urge him on.

"It can't always be about Stefan," he continues, quieter now but with equal intensity. "I don't know how long you want to pretend that this isn't happening between us, but I can't do it anymore. When you want to talk about us I'll be waiting, but until then I'm not going to listen to your deluded fantasies about a monster who right this second is out there with Rebekah doing god knows what to innocent people."

He begins to regret the words the second they're out of his mouth, stepping backwards as he waits for what he's said to register, for her eyes to fill with pain and revulsion before she runs out of the door. A long silence fills the air as her face remains frozen in shock. He's all but given up hope when a tiny smile begins to tug at her lips. The spark of hope in his chest turns into an all consuming fire as she throws herself into his arms.

She can't believe he's made it this easy for her. All the way here, psyching herself up for a melodramatic speech. She was ready to swallow her pride to bring up the tension between them however awkward it was. She'd expected Damon to torture her, make her beg. And here he was, eyes blazing as he practically screamed his feelings into her face.

She flings herself at him as soon as his words have sunk in. After all this time she can't bear to wait another second – she needs to feel his hands on her, his cool lips pressed against her own. He grins as his arms find their way around her, encircling her waist to pull her close, she wraps her own around his neck. Their eyes meet and suddenly both smiles fade, their faces growing serious as they lean in for this, the first real kiss.

Elena closes her eyes in anticipation as their lips inch closer together. She knows she's kissed him before, but this is a world away from then, when Damon was on the edge of death and Stefan was weighing heavy on her mind. This time they are both wholly in the moment, no distractions, no stray thoughts, no trace of the outside world.

After a millisecond that seems to last an eternity their lips press together. The kiss is gentle at first, but Elena pushes insistently at Damon's mouth with her tongue and he parts his lips to let her in. The kiss deepens into something hungry and passionate, both of them desperate for more.

Damon buries his hands in Elena's hair, spinning her to slam her back against the wall. She doesn't break the kiss as she wraps her legs around his waist, bucking against him and digging her fingernails into his back through the thin black material of his t shirt. Finally, they come up for air and Damon stares into Elena's brown eyes. She's beautiful, cheeks flushed and lips swollen, gasping for breath as she meets his gaze.

"Your room," she says, her voice low and unsteady. It's an invitation Damon's been dreaming of for as long as he can remember, but even now he has to check, has to make sure it's really what she want.

"Elena," he begins, his own voice ragged, "We do this, there's no go-". She leans forwards, silencing his mouth with her own. After another long, ferocious kiss she leans around to nip at his ear.

"Your room, Damon", she murmurs, and this time her voice is steady and insistent.

Knowing he couldn't possibly resist any further anyway, Damon whisks her up the stairs in a heartbeat and lays her down on the bedspread. He takes a moment to admire the woman smiling up at him with her hair fanned out around her before throwing himself down on top of her.

Elena's tugging at his top as soon as he hits the mattress, and in one swift motion he has it over his head and discarded on the floor. Then he reaches for the bottom of her tank. She raises her arms obediently and he lifts the material slowly, reverently, savouring every inch of her. She's trembling as he leans down to lay a soft kiss on her bare stomach, and he can smell her arousal as he inches his mouth up towards her black lace bra.

With a half smile that floods her belly with heat, Damon tugs aside the material and lightly flicks his tongue over the exposed nipple. She gasps at his touch, every nerve in her body tingling as he gently draws her nipple into his mouth and begins to suck. When he nips at her, she lets out a mewling noise which almost undoes him, and it's all he can do not to tear off her jeans and bury himself in her right then.

Gathering his control, Damon lifts his face to hers again for another kiss. He tries to be gentle, but Elena is frantic, fisting her hands in his hair and grinding herself against the bulge in his black jeans. The friction is bliss and he's desperate to, but he knows he'll remember this for the rest of his life. That could be a damned long time, so he is determined to do this right.

He moves his mouth to her neck and kisses the soft skin there tenderly, continuing his slow exploration until Elena makes a strangled sound of frustration and tugs at his hair, forcing him to look her in the eye.

"Damon," she rasps, her voice thick with need, "there will be plenty of time for slow later. I promise. But right now, I want.." her hand drifts to his fly, where his cock is straining at the restrictive denim. He knows exactly what she wants and that promise, the promise that this isn't just a one off, is all that he needs.

Moving with super human speed, he stands and pulls down his pants and underwear, smirking at the soft 'oh' Elena lets out when she sees him before her. Then he reaches forward to rip off her jeans leaving her breathless, lying there in only her bra and her panties, already damp with need. He takes a brief moment to admire the view – ElenaGilbert,beggingforme, before moving forward again.

He lowers himself onto the bed above her, propping himself up on his arms to stare into her eyes at her positions himself at her entrance. She wriggles under him, desperate to feel him inside her and after a moment's teasing, he tugs the flimsy fabric of her panties to one side and complies.

As he plunges into her, Elena throws back her head and lets out a long, shuddering gasp. She's lived this moment time and time again in her dreams, thought about the long, cool length of him inside her and she always knew it would be fantastic but this, this is indescribable. She's finding it difficult to focus, but what she can make out of his face through the mist of sheer pleasure says he feels it too.

It's better than he'd imagined, and he has imagined this a lot. It's all Damon can do not to come on the first thrust. The feel of Elena, warm and tight around his cock, the sight of her, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. The noise, my God, the noise she makes as he fills her for the first time.

He stops for a moment, steadies himself, and then slowly withdraws so that only his tip is inside her. Elena lets out a quiet whimper and he smiles as he plunges back in, watching her face intently as she writhes underneath him. He soon establishes a rhythm, and her body responds, moving in time with him as he slides in and out of her. He moves slowly, but each thrust is sure and deep.

Her breathing begins to quicken, and he knows as he meets her eyes what she wants. He starts to move faster, his thrusts taking on a slightly frantic edge as he feels his own orgasm approaching.

Elena feels like she's flying. She's completely lost in a sea of sensation, his every move sending more jolts flying through her body to gather low in her belly, where a warm weight is building. Those eyes, deep blue, boring into her with a gaze of such fierce intensity, seem like all that is anchoring her to this world. The pressure inside her is building and she knows it won't be long now. She's never felt anything like this before.

He's pounding into her now, and her nails scrabble for purchase on the sweat slicked skin of his back. Finally, when she's beginning to think she can't take any more, that the pure pleasure of it all might actually kill her, he lets out a guttural sound and slams into her one last time. She's tipped over the edge and her vision clouds as she loses herself to the tingling waves sweeping outwards through her body. She doesn't realise that she's screaming until the feeling begins to subside.

Damon is shuddering above her, eyes closed in pure bliss as he spends himself inside her. With one last thrust he lets out a gasp, before collapsing mutely onto her. Elena's arms wrap around him of their own accord, her hand cradling the back of his head as he nuzzles into the crook of her neck. She lays a soft kiss on his damp hair as if it'd the most natural thing in the world, and it is.

She doesn't know how long they like that, in perfect silence, both of them allowing the enormity of what they've just done to sink in. Finally, he pulls out of her and rolls to one side, flopping back against the covers in exhaustion. One pale arm snakes around her, and Elena turns to lay her head on his chest.

After a long beat, Damon speaks, and there's a vulnerability in his voice that breaks her heart.

"You… You don't have to stay, you know"

Elena buries her face in his chest and tightens her arms around him in response.

"I'm going nowhere, Salvatore." Comes the muffled reply. "You've promised me slow later."

Damon's face relaxes into grin as finally he allows himself to believe that, finally, he has what he wanted more then anything in the world. He's still smiling as Elena drifts off to sleep in his arms.