A/N: Hey-ho. ;D It's Jackie and Steph, here again to send you another chapter of the story. Firstly, we'd once again like to thank all of you for your support and reviews. (Seriously guys, your reviews mean soo much to us!) So, again, we ask you keep reading and reviewing and we'll do our job, which is writing. Also, all suggestions for future chapters/guesses are welcomed. ;D Enjoy!
Chapter 6: Careless Whispers.
A strange sound escaped Elena's lips upon hearing his hushed reply - a puerile giggle. Her teeth bit down lightly into Damon's bottom lips; she continued to smooth her palm over Damon's chest, basking in their kiss whilst granting herself to a vast knowledge of his well-toned torso. Her tongue lingered within the confines of Damon's mouth, rolling over and tangoing with his own as soft whimpers of pleasure escaped the brunette's mouth, as their kiss began to become more intimate than perhaps Elena had first intended it to evolve to. Despite the surprise, Elena was not, by any means displeased and nor was she intent on pausing their soon-to-be steamy session anytime soon.
The skin at Elena's thigh pricked as goose pimples decorated the skin there, continuing to infest every contour of skin in which Damon's hand shaped over; the way he made her soul rejoice in such an euphoric manner, coupled with the defined ability Damon seemed to possess in regards to heightening every single sense in her body - was truly an experience Elena would not soon forget, nor would she suddenly stop craving. Elena's centre hesitantly hovered over Damon's own - tracing the tip of his manhood occasionally, as she teased its final destination whilst moving her lip constantly and in utter synchronization with Damon's. But, at his latter statement, Elena had next to no time in which to react before she found herself suddenly underneath the immortal, his mouth soon beginning to migrate southward.
Once again, the unsatisfiable cloud of lust soon encapsulated both Elena and Damon, causing the lascivious emotion to loom over the both of them; his kisses became more potent and increased in speed as Elena became utterly overcome with sheer desire. Her previously roaming hand fixed at his hip as her other remained locked in position against Damon's whilst her moans channelled through her body - wanting him more and more, again and again. However, her pleasurable paradise was short-lived as she soon felt Damon flinch against her and evidently pull back.
"What's wrong?" she whispered a gasp, before hearing Damon's new found knowledge; her eyes widened a degree or two before her eyes darted around the tomb, searching for scraps of clothing torn off of her being from the night prior; grabbing at her underwear, she dragged the fabric up the length of her slender legs before searching for her shirt "How far away is she?" Elena asked, the feeling of anxiety bubbling inside of her.
"A little less than a mile," informed Damon leniently, as his eyes raked over every inch of this specific section of the tomb in search of particular wearable garments dotted around the area.
It was a frantic rush in those few moments that it took Damon to find all items of clothing scattered across the tomb's floor. He found his jeans with no trouble, and tugged them on after pulling up his underwear, buckling his belt with fumbling fingers. He located his black shirt a few steps away, but discerned the fact that it was twisted loosely with something red; Elena's shirt. The two colours meshing together effortlessly were endearingly handsome. After a hasty glance at Elena over his shoulder, Damon scooped up both bits of specially shaped fabric and separated them; black dangling from one hand and red from the other. He then buried the red one in his trouser pocket, slipping the black onto his own flat-muscled build but left it unbuttoned.
He spun on his heel to face Elena, the notoriously playful smirk still prominent upon his lips. He sauntered over to her, slowly and deliberately, his eyes on the wonderfully bare section of her midriff; athletic Elena certainly knew how to take care of her body – it was in times such as this that it paid off.
Damon bent down to pick up Elena's jeans as she continued to hunt for her shirt – little did she know that it was buried within the confines of his pocket; Damon suppressed a snigger. Instead, he handed her jeans over. Of course, a tentative touch didn't go amiss; at her rear, Damon laid his hands upon her bare shoulders, before dragging them up and down the smooth structure of her arms, all the while placing teasing kisses to bridge between her neck and her collarbone. Apparently, the fact that Bonnie was mere metres away had escaped his mind, replaced only by thoughts of ways to distract Elena from making herself look innocent.
He cared not for getting caught – he just wanted to hear those pleasurable giggles erupt from Elena's lips again. He couldn't help but grin at them.
"You're even more beautiful when you're anxious," Damon remarked cheekily.
It was a cheap shot, but that was Damon; flattering and undyingly charming even in the most risky of situations. Damon looped his arms around Elena's tiny waist and pulled her close to him, squeezing her form in a playfully gentle manner.
"Looking for something?" he mused, swinging the red shirt around in front of her eyes after yanking it from his pocket. He held it just out of her reach, grinning at her jokingly "A kiss for a cloth?" he bargained, his eyebrows lifting expectantly.
'A little less than a mile,' came the answer to Elena's rushed query as her frantic bambi's continued to search the tomb, in search for her garments of which seemed to have disappeared so miraculously. Although, Elena did not by any means regret the passionate encounter she'd found herself involved in with the elder Salvatore; despite this confirmation, she did wish, however, that she hadn't stripped herself so hastily - thus leading to the brunette to toss her clothes to the ground in such a fit of passion, that the next morning she was unable to retrieve them again... That realisation was beyond discourteous. Building upon this fact, Elena's eyes once again discovered Damon's flawless figure; for a second or two, the mortal found herself utterly awe-struck at the sight of his naked chest, but pouted instinctively the moment Damon cloaked himself in his black attire.
Albeit, the act was performed to cover Damon's defined muscles - the buttons failed to join each side of his shirt, and, in true Damon fashion the majority of his chest remained revealed. Still troubled rather tremendously, Elena raked a full set of dainty digits through the obvious disarray of which was her hair. (Which strangely had only been brought to Elena's attention then). Elena's head tilted to her right ever so slightly as she took in the undeniable mask of intrigue Damon's face now wore, as well as the extremely complimentative smirk. Uh-oh. Elena gulped back an emotion she didn't recognise as her eyes continued to further analyse his slowly stalking saunter. No reaction time was given to Elena during the period of her hand clutching at her newly-found jeans, and the attack of kisses Damon's mouth had ordered upon her being.
She bit into her lower lip, hard, and clamped a single hand into his hair, keeping Damon's face there as her eye lids began to flutter; she somehow managed to forget the burden of the vastly deteriorating time they were regrettably limited to, in which they were able to pledge themselves to enduring before the passionate pair inevitably parted ways. She shuddered against his practised touch before unwillingly opening her brown orbs to reply to his seductive suggestion. She gasped out of mock-horror before mirroring the grin across his lips and portraying it with her own.
"Mhm... I suppose I can deal with that scenario," Elena whispered before locking the arm of which was still clinging to her jeans around his neck and sliding the hand on her opposite arm through his hair.
She kissed him mercilessly and hungrily.
Genuinely pleased with Elena's co-operation with his negotiation, Damon tangled his own hand within the confines of Elena's disarray hair and hooked his other arm around her waist, hoisting her closer to his nearly fully-dressed form. Unless his extravagant ability to hear goings on around a mile away was inaccurate, Damon could hear Bonnie getting closer, repeatedly calling out the names of both vampire and human, demanding to know where they were. Every so often, her footsteps faltered, declaring that she had stopped to examine her surroundings or listen for responding calls. But when she carried on walking again, crushing leaves and snapping twigs at every abrasive stamp of her feet, it appeared that she had gotten no response in the slightest. The witch wasn't far away now – Damon could sense her aura edging nearer and nearer to the tomb as seconds went by. But he was so enwrapped in Elena's smouldering kiss that all cares were tossed to the wind.
A pleasure-driven groan erupted from Damon's orifice; it was an unusually gentle sound – more an expression of satisfaction from a puppy than the usual lion-like personality. The moment was pure bliss, just like the previous ones they'd shared. He still considered the idea of Elena's body being carved to fit against his perfectly – it certainly seemed that way, so he decided to keep it in his mind. She was made for him, and he was made for her. It was how it had always been.
Due to being so utterly transfixed by the taste of Elena's tongue and by the sensation of her dainty fingers through his silky black hair, he'd completely forgotten where they were and what risk they were in. They couldn't afford being caught by Bonnie – she hated Damon enough, and this was just another reason to add to her list of incentives. Elena belonged with Stefan, and if Bonnie was to see Damon all over Stefan's girl … She'd fry him for it. Literally.
Just then, Damon heard Bonnie's anxious voice ring out clearer than ever, thus forcing him to reluctantly pull away from Elena. Mentally, he cursed, and then handed over the crimson shirt, buttoning up his own. He then devoured the ground with his icy stare for a sight of his boots – he spotted them, pounced on them, and then yanked them on, one after the other. He then scooted back over to Elena, swiftly placed yet another benevolent kiss to her lips (unable to resist), then finally – to complete the look of pure innocence – swung on his beloved leather jacket, a smile upon his lips.
Elena allowed a wide-stretch grin to etch across her lips, continuing to grow more profound as their kiss increased in length as well as speed; Elena had developed an un hidden taste for Damon's kisses, and she was sure that if Damon were to offer them to her at a later date, then the task of denying them would be next to impossible. Elena could feel herself changing both in the way she perceived her actions, as well as how she chose her words, which were plucked considerably with care; a trait she'd easily borrowed from the elder Salvatore. And, perhaps, the uttermost dishonourable factor of all was that Elena had taken a profuse liking to their stolen, scandalous session and although she momentarily searched the realms of her mind for an ounce of guilt... Elena hadn't been able to find a minor trace.
At Damon's hoist, Elena's body immediately complied and allowed itself to be moulded against his faultless form; it was a mystery to Elena how it was possible for each of their body's to fit together so elegantly and their hands, as well as their mouths to move so fluently with one another's. It was no secret that this was another element of Damon and Elena's newly evoked romance that she relished within. The gentle whimper escaping Damon's mouth set of a frenzy of emotion in the pit of Elena's stomach; triggering a groan of yearning of her own as she kissed him with a slight up in intimacy. However, that action being prior to the recognition of her best friend's aimless calls. With obvious reluctance, Elena un hooked her arms from around Damon's neck as she began fiddling with the dark fabric of her jeans and attempted to drag them over her slender legs.
After a series of almost endless efforts, Elena had finally managed to dress her lower half, with the notable partaking of Damon's brief distraction. A wicked smirk captured Elena's lips as Damon regrettably handed her the crimson fabric in which she had dressed herself in the day prior; she took it slowly, not missing the interaction of their skin's surfaces and threaded her arms neatly through the allocated holes. Although, after tying two buttons, Elena flicked her pale pink tongue over her bottom lip and reached out, pulling Damon towards her body whilst scooping up her jacket with the other.
"You can't just kiss me whenever the time suits you, Salvatore; that wasn't our agreement," she teased before placing a full kiss upon his lips.
It seemed Elena was all for using as much time left to them as possible to devour in all that was Damon Salvatore, to which Damon himself had no complaints. The way she voluntarily grabbed him sent electricity charging through his body – oh, he liked his women feisty – and the way she feasted on his lips all but heightened his infatuation with her. There was no position he preferred to be in, in risk of getting caught or not. All that was on his mind right now was Elena; indigent Elena incessantly throwing herself at him. What more could he possibly want?
A dark, elfin chuckle emitted from his occupied lips at Elena's audacious words and, god, the way his surname sounded when she verbalised it … It made his insides melt.
"Try and stop me, Gilbert," he growled playfully against her pout, gently plucking her bottom lip between his teeth before ravenously kissing her, his finger lifting her chin up to impeccably meet his orifice.
It was eccentric to think that all this had happened pursuing Damon's famishment, which then led on to him nourishing on Elena's bittersweet blood. Who would've thought that a typical parasite, such as himself, would ever truly delve in his feelings for his victim? Of course, he knew he felt something for Elena, something close to love, before any of this had occurred, but he hadn't been definite. But after saving her life, killing another in the process, then finding themselves imprisoned uncannily in the tomb, he'd come to realise that he really did love Elena – and with all that he could possible muster. He loved her. And he always would. Nothing would ever change that.
"As much as I prefer you without this on," drawled Damon, reaching out to grasp the material of her shirt between his fingers, "I think we'd better take precautions and do it up."
Slowly, seductively and without leaving her lips, Damon did up the remaining buttons left undone on her shirt. By now, Bonnie was dauntingly close – man, the girl walked fast – for Damon could hear her shrill calls from levels above. Not a trace of panic fluttered through Damon – in fact, he cared not if the witch were to catch them – but he reluctantly pulled away from Elena, but only so much so that the tiniest of gaps were left between them. He would get a beating if they were to be spotted, but he wasn't scared … Much.
"Elena?" called the apprehensive voice of Bonnie, Elena's best friend and Mystic Falls' witch, "Damon?" Ugh, the place was gross.
It smelt absolutely terrible down beneath the ground. It was dark, damp and utterly confusing – she wasn't entirely sure if she was going the right way. After all, she'd only been down here once before … She had put the thought of the tomb out of her mind since then, what with it being such a horrible place.
Because of that, memories of routes had fled her mind, "Are you down here, Elena?"
From nearby, she heard the rustle of what she interpreted to be clothing, and a husky whisper in male tones. Suspicious, Bonnie sped up her pace; heading towards where she thought these sounds had come from.
With a heavy sigh and a repentant look at Elena, Damon took a step away from her, generating a larger gap between two bodies that seemed to always want to connect, much alike a jigsaw. He leant nonchalantly against the wall of the tomb, his eyes not leaving Elena until; at long last, Bonnie appeared at the tomb's entrance. She almost fainted at the sight of them.
"Thank god!" she gasped.
Elena's black leather jacket remained dropped over her forearm as her right hand remained fixed onto Damon's; her finger's hold was firm, the smooth material felt good against her hot tips as her thumb began caressing out invisible creases. Their kisses were as passionate as they were drawn-out, as if they had all of the time in the world in which to ravish one another, again and again, until neither could breathe within the heavy veil of love and lust, binding them so wholly, and completely. It was, of course, needless to say that the doppelganger was currently blinded with rose-coloured visions and dreamy delights; her judgement as of this present second would quite possibly differ to a latter, or a prior date, but allowing herself to care about that fact would destroy the moment both Damon and Elena had carefully crafted...
That thought alone persuaded Elena to no longer ponder a single negative of the scenario she had all-too willingly fell into; instead, Elena focused her mind's attention fully on the here and the now - that being the constant kisses Damon only too eagerly supplied her with. (Not that Elena was particularly complaining at that... Merely stating.) A helpless giggle of glee slipped effortlessly from Elena's mouth as Damon growled against her; it was only after the sound had echoed around the passionate pair, that Elena came to the realisation that Bonnie, to, may have been within ear-shot. Oh well, Elena could always fabricate a story, could she not? After all, it wasn't as though that once the vampire and human were free from the confines of the dismal tomb, their priority would be to make their steamy sessions public knowledge. In fact, that was the exact opposite of what Elena wanted... No, not wanted. Needed.
But leaving that thought at bay, she once again refused to revisit a subject until it was imperative to; Elena's concentration averted to the immortal within her arms. His latter, rather suggestive comment triggered not only her eyebrows to shoot up a degree or two, but also, for her lips to break their hold on his own and graze along his jawline; his hands, unfortunately dressed her torso, opposing to the reverse action of which both Damon and Elena would've enjoyed undoubtedly more.
"And although i hate to admit it, I suppose you're right," Elena said in a whispered, contented sigh before releasing the intense hold her fingers had upon his jacket and frowning; was that really Bonnie out there or was it just Elena's conscience playing tricks upon her?
Whichever it was, Elena didn't favour it even mildly. Damon seemed to note discreditable turn of events and, with an apologetic glance of which Elena noted; Damon backed away.
In one swift movement, Elena's over-coat was now fixed in its rightful position on her frame, as did her socks and then her trainers soon follow; deciding it was now or never, (and if Elena could, she would've seriously considered the never...) Elena sucked in a huge intake of air before stealing one rash glance Damon's way and stepping out into the light, immediately shielding her orbs from the sun's rays and allowing Bonnie to see her full form. She plastered a huge, fake smile across her lips.
"Bonnie! I'm so glad you found me!" Elena called before squinting into the distance and adding "Is that... Stefan with you?"
With a frown upon her soft, mocha skin, Bonnie looked from vampire to human and back again, as if trying to figure something out. But when she came to no conclusion for her suspicions, she blinked hard and turned to Elena, who was peering curiously towards the spring-time drenched forest.
"Uh, yes!" she replied distractedly, "Yes, Stefan's over there. He wanted to come with me to make sure I was safe and whatnot, um-"
She spun on the spot and copied Elena's searching gesture; a hand shielding her eyes from the sun and her chin raised in observation, "Stefan!" she yelled at the top of her voice, though – what with Stefan possessing the incredible ability to hear from a mile off – it wasn't needed, "Over here! I've found them!" She waved frantically to capture his attention, and within minutes, the younger Salvatore was at Bonnie's side, a look of pure relief coaxing his handsome features.
"Elena, thank god you're OK," he whispered.
"Don't worry about me, brother, I didn't almost die."
Relatively annoyed at the appearance of his brother, Damon did not move from his lean against the wall. He merely watched the panorama with mild interest, growing steadily impatient by the second.
"As much as I love to witness such dreary reunions," he commented cynically in cold tones, looking from Stefan, to Bonnie, to Elena (where his eyes momentarily lingered) and back around the circuit of people, "I'd very much like to be liberated now. As I'm sure would Elena."
He gestured languidly in Elena's direction, a hint of expectation about his poker-player expression. Once again, his face was solid, resembling no emotion whatsoever. It was an uncanny trait of his, to keep others out, to barricade anything in. When wearing an expression that so marvellously resembled stone, nobody ever asked questions; that was how he liked it and that was how it would stay.
But … It appeared that these robust barriers seemed to falter whenever he was graced with Elena's presence. It was like she was the blazing fire to his resilient metal blockade, wielding and melting the obstacle that separated her and his heart. How she was able to get inside with such flair, he didn't know. He preferred to remain oblivious to further knowledge concerning the weakening of his humanity's fortification.
Upon Damon's buoyant request, Stefan turned to Bonnie, looking highly optimistic.
"Can you get them out, Bonnie?" he asked, "Can you hold off the spell?"
Stefan's voice wavered as he asked Bonnie these two very important questions; maybe it was because last time they lifted the spell on the tomb, Bonnie's grandmother died. It took an awful lot of magical power to do such a thing. Nevertheless, Bonnie nodded confidently, staring into the jewel-bright eyes of the youngest Salvatore sibling.
"Yes, it shouldn't be too hard. They're not far into the tomb, and there are only two of them. Just as long as they come straight out as soon as the spell is performed, nothing bad will happen."
This answered seemed to comfort Stefan. He gestured for Bonnie to go ahead with it, and took a step away, standing in the shadows of the confines that surrounded the tomb. His eyes never seemed to leave the little witch, who was now bracing herself. Bonnie lifted both hands in front of the tomb, palms facing away from her, and her eyes fluttered to a close. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, fixing her concentration, before muttering fluent Latin under her breath. The string of words that erupted from her lips were as smooth as poetry and were spoken with apparent competence. They gradually increased in volume and frequency, in brusqueness and in energy, until suddenly, Bonnie's eyes flew open.
"Quick!" she gasped at Damon and Elena, "I can only hold for a few seconds."
Grabbing Elena's hand, Damon fled from the confines of the tomb, at long last bathed in inviting sunlight.
The well-tailored smile remained dominant on Elena's lips as her eyes rested upon her best friend's African American features; it was much easier to concentrate on the witch than it would've been if Elena were to break her gaze and allow it to linger its way directly back to the Salvatore she'd spent much of last night passionately kissing. Only a minor piece of Elena's attention, however, was focused upon her best friend as she replied in a half-hearted tone.
"Good, it feels like I've been stuck in here for days - and I seriously need a shower," she muttered before, betraying her self-control, averted her eyes towards Damon; she inhaled a sharp breath as she felt his mental pull - she wanted to badly to connect her lips with his own, have his hands all over her right now it was insane...
But Elena knew she had to keep a handle upon herself for the second they stepped out of this tomb, everything would change; Elena would be forced to swallow her fiery feelings for Damon and banish any thought of the two of them intimately connecting, thus leading to two rather unsatisfied souls. However, although the emotions of which emitted from Elena when around the blue-eyed immortal were severely stronger than that of Stefan, Elena simply could not afford to cause the younger brother, nor herself any unnecessary heart break. Unbeknown to Elena, her gaze was still locked onto Damon's, fantasizing about their time together the night prior when the voice of her boyfriend broke her concentration. Her eyes flickered to Stefan, and this time when she smiled - it was out of relief more than anything else.
Perhaps if she were to spend time with the said boyfriend once again, she would be able to merely dismiss her intimate interaction with Damon as a misplaced mistake. If the assumption hadn't been so vastly into the realms of wishful thinking then Elena would've considered it; but due to the fact Elena was twitching with anxiety, she wouldn't bank on the prediction.
"Oh, Stefan! I'm fine," she whispered back, her voice evident in glee as she took a step forward, but found herself dumb-founded by the invisible barrier.
Yes, that was correct - the sole reason Damon and Elena had found themselves in their joint steamy session in the first place was because of their imprisonment within the tomb... Bearing witness to the conversation between both Bonnie and Stefan, Elena chose to ignore the obvious cynic within Damon's tone.
That was not the Damon she had pledged herself to last night... Not by any means. And despite her obvious distaste in Damon's miraculously adopted behaviour, Elena registered the bitter tone of envy of which seemed to inflict every word using the elder brother's tongue. And truth be told, deep down within the small, but shallow segment of Elena's being... She liked it. No, she more than liked it; the flattery of having two brothers helplessly in love with the human girl had her frustrated, no doubt, but flustered also as she recalled each of the brother's promises of love and affection. Whilst her mind continued to analyse the situation she'd found herself ensnarled in, she became blissfully unaware of the goings-on in the environment around her; she was, however brought back to reality at the touch of Damon's hand. It shot numerous electrical jolts through her veins and coursed throughout her entire body.
Once their sprint had dispersed Elena's eyes immediately snapped to Damon's, holding them for the smallest of instances before, self-consciously, she dropped his hand, hoping neither Bonnie nor Stefan caught the red-hot sexual tension between the pair. Appearing not to have notice, a new set of arms wrapped around her, these a familiar, homely feel as Elena sighed with content. Stefan released her, only slightly before claiming her lips in one, long, passionate kiss.
"I'm so glad you're here... That you're okay," he murmured
Within that split second that Damon and Elena caught each other's eye, Damon could've sworn that everything inside of him quivered. He wanted to hold that gaze forever, to just lose himself in those beautiful eyes. It was a shame it didn't last long; before he knew it, her fingers were slipping away from his, and she'd run into the open arms of Stefan. He couldn't help but watch in envy as they shared an embrace – one that clearly demonstrated how relieved and happy they were to finally be reunited. Damon suppressed the urge to scoff in repugnance. To distract himself, he turned to Bonnie and slapped her heartedly on the shoulder, forcing a grin.
"Thanks for that, Bonnie."
Bonnie merely glared at him. Damon recoiled slightly, but nonetheless took it as a, "You're welcome", and then turned back to the previously interlocked pair. His heart plummeted to find them now kissing passionately, and this time he couldn't conceal his blunt resentment.
He eyed the intimate lovers with malicious envy, wanting nothing more than to tear them apart and take the female part for his own. But he couldn't. He knew that he couldn't, no matter how much he yearned to. He should've known, when trapped in the tomb with Elena, undergoing numerous forms of volatile interaction, that it was too good to be true, no matter how real and how right it had felt. Elena belonged with Stefan … Damon was just a replacement. Or at least, that's what he felt like. Nothing more than a standby.
What the hell was he thinking? Elena belonged with him, no matter how much a part of his brain was whispering otherwise. It literally pained him to see them so affectionately involved with one another. He should've seen this coming. He should've known that, once out of the time, he would be forgotten. Damon clenched his teeth, forcing his eyes away from Stefan and Elena and instead let them linger on the dirty ground.
"Let's just get out of here. If I see another human skeleton, I think I may just burst into flames."
Steph+Jackie