Chapter 2
Two nights.
It had been two nights since she had been in his room, since he'd forced her to look at him as she climaxed. It might have been too much for her, she had mostly avoided him during the day and at night had retreated to her own house, her own bed.
The house now was empty and echoed with each step into each room. The first night he lay wide awake till morning, jumping at every sound the old house made, hoping she would come in. By the second night his bed repulsed him. It should have brought back pleasant memories of all the times he had lain with her there, made love to her all night. Instead it was a hated thing, a reminder of everything he couldn't have. Now that was a long list. On top, of course, was Elena, his brother's girl. It worked its way down to Katherine, another of his brother's girls, but at least one who had the guts to finally tell him he would never come first. Jesus, when had he ever come first, other than birth order. Stefan was always the golden child, the great redeemer. While he was the dark horse, the troublemaker and troublesome one.
Bah, he thought, filling his Scotch glass again. None of it matters anymore. Stefan's gone, Elena's gone, Katherine better be gone. He could start fresh. Maybe move out of town, California maybe. Hadn't been there since the Depression, when starving migrant workers were ripe for the picking.
He sat down on the couch and stared into the empty fireplace. It was useless. He could never leave her. He'd hang around, pining after her until, hopefully, she died after a long and peaceful life. He'd be the loving uncle to whoever was lucky enough to snag her and give her children. He smirked. Even Stefan couldn't fulfill that need. The thought made him feel marginally better till he imagined the kind of idiot she could end up with who would be worse than his brother.
Another drink was in order. And after that, another one.
The clock struck midnight with dramatic chimes that seemed like a bell tolling for all his past wrongs and future indiscretions. It also marked the time of night when he could expect her to tiptoe into his room, into his bed, pulling him into, around, and all over her.
Who knew she could be so insatiable. And that he would have the staying power to fulfill her every need. Was she like that with Stefan? It would explain why he was so pussy-whipped. And did Stefan give it to her as hard as he did? He shrugged. That, he was certain, he would never know, and if he had to guess, he'd say he was definitely the stand in.
Elena hearts Stefan. 4-eva.
Ugh.
That first moment she had appeared in his room he thought he was seeing a ghost or maybe an angel. She floated in, seemingly without walking, her white nightgown almost transparent in the light of the hallway. He could make out the outline of her body, the curve of a pert breast, and the swell of her hips. He spied the small gap between her legs as she walked across the room and it made his mouth dry and his cock stiff.
She was a vision.
He opened and closed his mouth, all sorts of sentences trying to issue forth: what's wrong? What do you need? Is it Stefan? But no words came. He knew she wasn't there because of any of the obvious reasons. It was crystal clear from the look on her face when she drew close enough to the bed.
She wanted him.
He propped himself up on an elbow and watched her. She bit her lip, suddenly losing her courage. But then she seemed to gather it up again and with one fluid motion, pulled her nightgown up and over her head.
He was like a deer caught in headlights. She was far more beautiful naked than he had ever imagined in his day/night/all-the-time dreams. Her nipples were already hard and pointing at him as if asking for attention. The planes of her flat stomach went on forever, her thighs looked soft and creamy and the hair between her legs was sparse and trimmed. In short, she was perfect.
Wordlessly, he flipped over the covers on the bed inviting her inside.
She slipped in and without touching him turned to her side facing him. They lay like that for a long time. She contemplated him while he tried his best not to say something stupid and fuck it up.
Finally she reached out and with one finger traced the side of his face, moving from his temple to his jaw. She trailed her fingertips to up the over side, touching his forehead, both eyelids, his nose, and finally his mouth. She outlined his lips, her eyes never leaving her task. He opened his mouth slightly and sucked her finger inside. It was just a bit, but the sensation of his tongue touching her finger made her gasp. Her eyes rose to his and he could tell she was his.
For the night anyway.
With a growl he drew her to him tightly and smashed his mouth down on hers. She flung her arms around his neck and drew them together. The tips of her nipples scraped his chest as she circled a leg around his hips, pulling him in like a python. His hands coasted over her body, but he was afraid to touch her too intimately, she would have to set the pace. He didn't have to wait long. She pressed herself against his erection and began to move slowly up and down, clinging to his shoulders and her mouth never leaving his. He groaned into her mouth and allowed his hands to move to her breasts, then to the swell of her ass where he ground her against him.
He shifted her onto her back and trailed a line of kisses from the back of her ear to the nape of her neck. He moved lower, kissing both shoulders, the flat plane of her upper chest to where her breasts began to rise. There he spent a long time teasing her, lightly kissing, and kneading her before finally sucking down hard on each tight nipple. She mewed and whined beneath him. He was working her up into a froth, and he wasn't even halfway done with her yet.
He kissed her stomach and hips, down each leg to every toe, then moved back up to nuzzle her inner thighs, loving the way she was panting, trying to be patient for what she knew would come. He gave her one experimental lick and felt her shudder. He propped her knees up and began slow circles of kisses from her outer labia up past her clit, each concentric circle narrowing in on that tiny bud. Her hips circled with his tongue, her hands now deeply buried in his hair, trying to guide him back to the most sensitive spots. To no avail though. He just chuckled and kept up his slow journey. He added a finger, then two, that circled her passage before dipping in to test the waters. Holy fuck, she was tight. He began to pump his fingers in and out slowly, his tongue settling on her clit to flick it in time with his fingers. Soon she was out of her mind, babbling "Faster, faster!" "Oh God, don't stop!" "Ughghgh…" As soon as she began to climax he sucked in her clit as hard as he could and he felt her explode beneath him, riding his fingers and his face like a bucking bronco. He dipped his tongue into her to taste her juices. She was so fucking sweet. He knew after that he would never taste anything in his life as sweet as her.
When she settled, she grabbed him by the ears and drew him up to her. His mouth was shiny and wet from her, but she obviously didn't care. Propped up on his hands kissing her, he could feel his cock, of its own accord, seeking her center. He wasn't sure if he should assume there would be more and rejoiced when he felt her open her legs to allow him to nestle inside.
His eyes met hers, giving her one more chance to back out, but she looked at him steadily. She knew what she was doing. She wanted this as much as he did. With one hand on his cock, he guided it to her entrance, swiping it up and down a few times then slowly entered her. God, she was hot and wet and amazing. As soon as he was sheathed within her, he wondered how he could ever be with another woman. She fit him so perfectly, each part of their bodies fitting together like an old puzzle, or Lego pieces. He kept himself propped above her, loving how she moaned and writhed beneath him, her fingernails scratching his chest, loved how she arched her body up to ask for his kiss.
He fucked her for a long time that night. And when she finally came again, on his cock, and with a scream that would have awoken anyone else in the house, that was when he knew he was well and truly screwed. There was no question she was the love of his (un)life, whether she knew it or not.
Putting down his drink, he ran a hand over his ragged face. He had to see her. He had to touch her. Even if he risked it all ending now, which was probably what was going to happen if he confronted her. But he had to see her right now.
With inhuman speed he grabbed his jacket and raced to the front door. When he opened it Elena was standing on the other side, her hand poised to knock, although she never bothered any other time.
Damon stood there stunned and speechless as she lowered her hand and looked at him solemnly.
"Hello Damon."
"Hello Elena."
It was just after midnight.
A/N 1: This is taking place between Seasons 2 and 3 so I think it might go wildly off canon at some point. Just so's you know.
A/N 2: Please review. Pretty please. With Damon Salvatore on top.
