Chapter 7
Seriously, where is my underwear.
Elena scanned the floor, looking for any remains of her panties, all the while doing her very best not to look at him. Because he would look gorgeous. He would have that sparkle in his eyes. That sparkle that did her in every time. And she couldn't have that. She had to get out of there. She had to get back to her friends.
To her party.
To her sanity.
"Elena, can you stop for two seconds?" Damon rumbled from behind her. "We need to talk."
"I think we've talked enough for one night, thank you!" she snarled, ignoring that tickle in her stomach at the sound of his deep voice. "And where in the hell is my underwear?"
"You mean this?"
She looked at him then, for the first time since she'd struggled out of his touch. He'd put his pants back on, but his chest was still exposed...and glistening with sweat...and she hated how that was the first thing she noticed. Especially since what she should've noticed first was the red lace dangling from his finger.
"Give me that!"
He smiled, wiggling his eyebrows. "Make me."
"Can you be serious for five seconds, please!"
He sighed, the smile dropping as he shoved the red fabric in his pocket. "Calm down, Elena."
"Easy for you to say!" she fumed. "I just had sex with my boyfriend's brother! A brother who, until about a month ago, I very much hated!"
"Hey," he sang. "You weren't exactly my favorite person in the world, either."
"So how the hell did we get here, Damon? How did you do it?"
His eyes narrowed into slithers. "How did I do it?"
"Yes! How did you get me from hating your guts−"
"To screwing me in a library?"
She huffed, rubbing her forehead. "Oh, God, he's never going to forgive me for this."
"Forgive you?" he bit out. "Why would you need him to forgive you?"
Damon could hear her heart speed up and, at once, he knew the answer to his own question.
"You're going back to him, aren't you?"
Tears welled up in her eyes when she whispered, "He loves me, Damon."
"So, you're just going to pretend that everything we've been doing here means nothing?"
"I don't know what it means."
To you, she added in the privacy of her mind. Because when everything was said and done, she still didn't know where she stood with him. They'd had sex, yes. And it had been amazing, yes. But there had been no promises for the future. No whispered words of affection. Just primal, animalistic, mind-blowing sex.
"Damn it, Elena!" Damon yelled, grabbing his shirt of the floor. "We're back to this?"
"Back to what?"
"Back to you running away from me, from what you feel!"
"What I feel? This coming from the love is a trap-guy!"
"And yet, I'm not the one bolting from the room!"
"I'm not bolting−"
"You don't want Stefan, Elena!"
"Oh, I don't?" she screamed, crossing her arms stubbornly.
His eyes darkened. "No! You're just scared of what's going on between us and he's your safe choice!"
"Don't pretend you know anything about me and Stefan, Damon!"
"I know he doesn't make you feel the way I make you feel!"
"Oh, please!"
"Don't deny it, sweetness. I felt it when I was inside of you."
Her eyes widened, then narrowed. "You arrogant bastard!"
"Annoying brat!"
"Screw you, Damon!"
"Why? You already took care of that!"
"Oh, my God!" she hissed, shaking her head. "I'm done talking!"
"Same here!" he hissed back.
"Good!"
"Good!"
"GOOD!"
They stood there, breathing heavily, glaring at each other, ready to rip each other's throats out. And then, in the space of a heartbeat, everything changed. Anger turned into a desire so profound it filled the room. Electricity crackled between them. In one swift move, he'd swooped her up against him, his lips crashing into hers, slanting into a scorching, possessive kiss that made her ache all over again. How could her body possibly want more? Need more? Take more?
"You're driving me mad," he groaned into her mouth as he grabbed her hips and pulled her even closer. "You know that, don't you?"
His tongue slid inside her mouth again before she could answer, his hands pushing the filmy chiffon of her dress up her thighs.
"Barking mad," he growled, his warm breath moistening her lips. "And you do it on purpose, don't you? You want me like this. Out of control."
Yes! She thought, suckling his tongue, tasting him, savoring him. The taste and smell and feel of him made her light headed. Biting his lower lip, she slipped her fingers under his shirt, feeling the muscles contract underneath her touch.
Wait, her mind screamed when she felt him lick that sweet spot behind her ear. I was going to do something.
"This is how it will always be with me, Elena," he moaned, his hot breath on her neck. "With us."
Yes, just like this.
Always.
You and me.
Thoughts of the future and memories of the past all dimmed under his touch. This was what she missed with Stefan. It wasn't just that he made her desire him; he made her feel like he needed her. Or something from her. And she was desperate to give him whatever he wanted.
Wait.
No.
Roughly, she tugged his hair, forcing his neck back so his lips no longer touched her skin. A move that felt so unnatural.
"No," she breathed. "I'm not doing this. Not again."
He glanced up, eyes dark, nostrils flaring. "I'm not letting you go back to him!"
"Damon−"
"I can't ," he groaned, straightening up. "The thought of him touching you like this−" His hand slid up to the wet center of her need for him. "I can't stand it. You're mine, Elena."
"I'm not yours. I'm−"
She sucked in her breath when his fingers parted her, teasing and stroking her flesh, making her melt for him, until she was already on the verge of release. Again.
"You were saying?" he rumbled against her lips.
Was I saying something?
She threated her fingers through his hair, clutching it, using it as a lifeline. A lifeline she needed to get back to reality. Her reality.
"Enough," she whimpered, her voice lacking the strength it needed to sound convincing.
"Enough?" he growled, feathering her jawline with kisses. "I don't think so, sweetness. Almost, but not yet."
"Da−"
His lips dropped to her neck.
To her collarbone.
To the path between her breast.
"Lie down, Elena," he growled, his thumb finding her clit. "Lie down so I can take you again."
She shook her head, although it was more a thrashing than a shake.
"You need it, Elena" he rasped, his lips resting on the pulse point in her neck. "Your body needs it. Can't you feel it? How it's craving me?"
Yes.
"Damon, please," she grated, feeling her insides tighten. "Stop."
He smiled a heated smile. "Once more with even less feeling."
He slipped his middle finger into her wetness, and she moaned, her hips moving to meet his frantic pace. His kisses became slow and devilish, his lips firm and carnal as he rubbed her insides faster, harder.
"Damon?" she gasped out, astonished she could still think straight.
"Yes, sweetness?"
"Do you remember that night in the Grill?"
"God, yes," he growled. "How could I forget? I wanted you just like this. Close. Warm. Wet."
I wanted you, too.
"Do you remember the game?"
He nodded, retreating his finger only to plunge it back in with a friend. " You were amazing. You are amazing."
"I won."
"Yes, you did."
"Do you remember my prize?"
His fingers froze inside of her, his kisses seizing their warpath down her chest.
"I can ask you anything and you have to do it, right? That was the prize?"
"Elena−"
"I'm collecting."
"No."
"If you're a man of your word, you'll let me go. Please."
She couldn't have said anything more convincing. His word was precious, not given easily and if there was one thing he prided himself on, it was the fact that he always kept his word. No matter how hard it was. And this was beyond hard. This was nearly impossible. Growling, Damon shook his head and smiled, but on the inside, he was anything but smiling. He was livid. Off all the women out there, he just had to have this one, didn't he? Off all the willing, uncomplicated, easy women, he just had to go for Elena Gilbert.
Cursing under his breath, he finally released her, stepping away from her trembling, unsatisfied body. "You're really bad for my ego, sweetness!"
"I'm sorry, Damon," she whispered in that soft voice that made letting go of her even harder. "I can't do this."
"You mean you won't do this, right?" he snarled. "You can, you just won't."
She shook her head, her eyes searching his for something he couldn't put his finger on.
"What do you want me to do, Damon?" she asked, her gaze deepening.
"I told you," he rumbled, his eyes dark again. "I want you to lie down."
"Do you want me to leave Stefan?"
His face turned serious then. "Yes."
"Why?"
"Why? You're kidding me, right?"
"Yeah, Damon," she sighed. "It's all just one big joke to me. Can't you tell?"
After a long hesitation, he took a deep, seemingly calming, breath and grabbed her hand, placing it over the bulge in his pants, almost spilling his seed again at the touch of her warm palm.
"That's why, Elena," he groaned, his voice hoarse, his blood pulsing painfully in his groin. "I want you. Desperately. In every which way. What more do you want?"
Her eyes turned soft then. But it wasn't a look filled with desire like before. There was something else slumbering in those brown depths. Something he couldn't quite define. All he knew was that there was suddenly way too much pain in her gaze.
Slowly, she removed her hand from his jeans and put it over his heart, her eyes dropping to where she touched him, a sad smile playing on her lips. "Nothing, Damon," she whispered, softly removing her fingers from his chest. "Absolutely nothing."
She walked away then and he didn't try to stop her.
Not this time.
Although every fiber in his being yearned to pull her back, to convince her to stay, to take her again and again until every thought of another man, every thought of leaving him would vanish into nothingness. But he knew the end result would be the same. When they would be done, when they would be spend, breathing heavily on the floor, they would be right back here. She would be angry at him, at herself and she would walk away just the same. He would never truly possess her…unless she came to him, first. Willingly. Driven by her own desire, not just his.
"Fine, you win, Elena," she heard him say when she reached for the doorknob. "I won't bother you again. No more kisses. No more repeats of what happened here. I'll back off."
She closed her eyes at his words, her insides screaming at her to run to him, to take it all back, to lie down on that floor.
But she couldn't.
She wouldn't.
Suddenly, he was closer behind her.
Close enough to feel his breath on her hair.
Close enough to smell.
"But you're going to find that you were wrong, Elena," he rumbled. "The longer you're away from me, the more you're going to find that you belong with me. And deep down, you know it. Deep down, you know I'm not the only one who got us to this point. You want me as bad as I want you, Elena."
No, she thought, fighting the urge to lean back and rest against him. I want you more. Because I want all of you. Not just your body. I want your heart. Your soul. And you will never give me that. Which makes being with you like this, so close, so exposed, unbearable.
"Goodbye, Damon."
"Until next time, Elena."
She opened the door, half expecting…and hoping…he'd do that hand on the door-thing again like he'd done the last time she tried to walk away.
But he didn't.
He just let her leave.
Back to her friends.
Back to Stefan.
Back to her resemblance of a normal life.
Her life without him.
She'd had one without Damon for almost seventeen years...so why did it seem unimaginable now?
Hey guys! I know, it's a shorter chapter than usual, but there's more on the way! I've just been very busy and I didn't want you to wait for over a week to see how Elena and Damon were going to deal with the aftermath of what happened. Please, let me know what you think!
X me
