Note: There is some delena sex in this chapter, please bear with me. I really had to. I used one song through the whole chapter and that's "Dark in my imagination" by Of Verona.
#
When her phone rings and the display lights up with Stefan's name she's lying on her bed, an old teddy bear pressed to her side and legs crossed. She must force herself to wait before answering, so at least she won't feel that pathetic.
His voice is endearing and low, and she instinctively bites the inside of her cheek when he asks her, "How are you feeling?"
She grimaces, shutting her eyes . Horny, for a start, but that's not something he needs to know.
"Did Caroline take you home safely?" he continues.
"Yeah, of course," she answers, rolling on her side and letting the stuffed bear fall from the bed, "She was all excited about the dance, we chatted a bit. She's so busy lately we never have the time to."
"What did you chat about?" he asks. It takes her a moment to reply, but she does, calmly so, "Seduction."
"That's a very interesting subject."
"Stefan," she gently calls his name to have his full attention, "Do you think anyone can be seduced?"
"In theory, yes," he says, and it sounds very much like a 'no' to her ears, "The true victim of seduction is the one who's void you can fill," he explains. "People completely satisfied with themselves and their lives can hardly ever be seduced. The perfect hunt is all about finding the perfect prey."
His approach to the topic is so meticulous and rational, so dedicated to the human psyche, that she feels like he could decide a country's destiny while sipping on a scotch in his sitting room. Maybe he should consider being a mediator between the Israelis and Palestinians.
"The perfect victim will react in a certain way, unconsciously so. You shouldn't give importance to the conscious behaviors because they are planned, and that means that person wants something from you; instead, a blush, an unaware repetition of a gesture you did, a slip of the tongue—that means you have a power over them. And in most cases, it means they have it over you, because the effect they have on you will change your next moves. It will reflect the way your eyes light up or the way your hands move, and that will make you all the more fascinating. It will make you irresistible." Her mouth curves when she hears him say, "Desire can be contagious."
"If I understand correctly," she says, almost purring, "Seduction is… a blood sport."
There's something in the look you give
I can't help myself I fold
I can't help myself at all
"Absolutely," he confirms, "The Black Plague didn't take half the victims seduction did," and there's something terrible and thrilling about this simple truth.
"So, who wins in the end?" she asks out of the blue.
She can hear his smile on the other side of the phone, "The one that knows when and how to contain themselves," he answers rationally, "But I surely hope both do," he offers then, in a lower tone.
#
When he rests against the seatback and raises his eyes in front of him he sees her as she gracefully rushes in front of him to sit in her place, one seat ahead on his left while the teacher reminds everyone the subject they're going to go over during the lesson.
She's wearing a cream white loose top that falls gently off her right shoulder leaving it naked to his sight. Her hair is braided on the side so that it doesn't prevent him from admiring the sweet, caramel-like curve of her slender neck.
Bonnie turns to him to offer a light smile and raises her hand briefly to mutter a muted 'Hi' while the teacher goes on and on about something Stefan is not interested in. He nods in her direction to reciprocate her greeting and watches her turn away to pay attention to the lesson.
There's something in each touch when we kiss
I scream "God forgive me please,"
Because I want you on your knees
The most innocent curves make men think of the soft, welcoming places a woman possesses – he had explained – knees and shoulders are more enticing than you'd think, and now he wants to know how fair she's going to make this game—if she's simply taking gratification from the power of her femininity or a particular pray has caught her eye.
He looks up front, tries to listen to the teacher in hope that he'll say something new or at least interesting, in hope that his mind will chose to dwell on something other than the way Bonnie plans to use her newly discovered confidence, but in the corner of his eye she moves her hand, placing it at the base of her neck to massage it, and he can't help but turn his eyes to her to watch.
She tilts her head to the side, pressing her fingers on the muscle she wants to loosen up and releases an almost inaudible sigh. Stefan's eyes move to scrutinize the faces in the class, to make sure that he's the only one who heard that. The sound was so elegantly erotic that he doubts any boy in class could have faked ignorance if they heard it.
He himself must stretch in his seat and bring a pen to chew on the cap, just to let some tension out. Instinctively his nostrils search for the smell of her, he can recognize it easily because she wears the perfume he gave her, and under that there's her skin. Oh, her skin.
But I don't wanna think about it now
I know I wont get out if I'm falling
His eyes flicker back to her, find the inch of skin under which pulses the jugular vein while he distances the pen from his mouth and his tongue brushes against the back of his teeth, itching to press there and feel it, pumping with all its power. Fuck. He feels himself grow harder at the thought and he must look away and concentrate on something else. He starts listing the wars inside his head, in chronological order and he stops only when the bell rings and the movement she does to stand from the seat forces him to admire her body and smell her again in the air.
So I don't wanna think about it now
It's dark in my imagination
It's dark in my imagination
Bonnie turns and smiles at him, holding her book to her sweet breasts and leaves. He waits for everyone to leave before actually managing to relax. He sinks into his seat, and looks up at the ceiling releasing a breath.
Oh, she learns fast.
#
They are all at school, playing at the nice teenagers while he's home bored out of his mind, in the perpetual struggle to not think about the stupid insinuation they go around making, that he cares about the witch any more than he cares for the floor cleaner he uses for the kitchen.
The idiots are trying to make him paranoid but he dismisses it with a shrug and a brilliant decision. Since he's got nothing to do and has no interest aside from Elena, he'll drop by Mystic Fall High, charm his way inside and have a quickie with his lovely girlfriend.
It's a perfect plan, there's no way it can fail, and banging Elena always cheers his up anyway.
The parking lot is almost empty because it's late afternoon and only Caroline's slaves and a few athletes are still there. He can't begin to understand why Elena would feel the need to humor her friend when there are better things to do with her endless time. Yes, she said that it was tradition and it was important for them, but there are still more pleasurable traditional things, like the old in-and-out, just to name one.
Luckily for her he's ready to let her enjoy both.
He finds a girl hiding behind a pair of thick glasses – in what seems to be a bad-hair-day in probably a long line of bad-hair-days – almost choking on a balloon as she tries to blow it up. She stammers a "W-W-What?" when she hears his question and his smiles graciously at her.
"I'm looking for Elena Gilbert," he repeats, but she explains to him with a little difficulty that, "I'm a transfer student, I don't know her."
But he doesn't lose his patience, because, "That's an easy one to figure out. She's a pretty brunette, best friends with Caroline Nazi-of-the-school-dances Forbes."
"Oh," she utters with a nod, "Yes, her best friend," she says, "She's doing the most annoying part actually. She's in the hallway that goes to the gym, in that direction," she explains pointing out the way for him.
He thanks her, even calls her darling because chances are her self-esteem is lower than her position in the food chain. It should actually be considered a good deed. Bonnie would be proud of him (if he cared about what Bonnie thought and if it was scientifically possible for her to associate any positive emotion with him, that is).
He catches a glimpse of her toned legs from the reflection on the glass of the ajar door and when he pushes it to enter he stares at her ass, briefly, while the door closes behind him. It's a remarkable view but it's not Elena's. In fact, the one sweating and reaching up to the ceiling, trying to hook the "We will make history" banner while standing on an old metal ladder, is the annoying witch he has no intention of thinking about.
He's turning on his heels when, from the corner of his eye, he sees her pushing herself onto the tips of her toes and losing balance. It happens so fast that he has no time to consider how many bones she'd break if he just went on his merry way, no time to actually talk himself into minding his own business since she's a witch and can actually save herself (if she doesn't worry about someone seeing her). The thud they make when they end up on the floor isn't worse than the pain he actually feels when he breaks her fall with his body to find her staring at him wide-eyed and perfectly intact. She just trembles against him when the ladder crashes to the ground, luckily away from them.
She's wearing a new perfume but he likes her skin better, he thinks, while her braid falls against his cheek and her bare neck is close enough that it would only take him bending his head a little to brush his mouth against it and feel the texture of the skin. If he wanted to, which he doesn't. Of course he doesn't.
Bonnie has both her little hands open and pressed on his chest and when she blinks he finally manages to regain his speech. "I always knew all that hostility was just repressed sexual tension but I didn't imagine you would have jumped my bones so literally," he jokes, offering a grin so that they are back to their usual banter.
She pushes hard against his chest so that the leverage helps her get away from him. She stands next to him and he's left watching her from the floor. The only reply she concedes him is, "You wish," with just the right tone of voice so that he thinks she's learning a thing or two about her allure.
The fact that she still blushes as she rolls her eyes makes him smile. That's a good thing because she might learn confidence but she should never change. He likes his Judgy unadulterated and straight, thank you very much.
Well, not likes as likes-likes, and it's not like she's his either, no; he just- oh, whatever.
"We're growing some self-esteem, are we?" he asks, propping himself up on his elbows. "It works like a muscle, you have to use it or lose it," he says, stretching his arm, silently asking for her help to stand up – she does, and it's only right considering he's in this position because he saved her neck. "And dumping some boring ass is exactly the exercise you needed," he says, but Bonnie glares at him and kicks his ankle, using magic to knock him down to the ground once again.
"Ouch!" he chuckles in his pain and smiles up at her. She looks quite cute when she's angry at him, so what luck that he can get on her nerves simply by breathing.
"What are you here for, Damon?" she asks, looking down at him with her fists pressed to her sides, "Other than to annoy the hell out of me."
The answer to that question rolls easily off his tongue, because that's really what he came here for and it's the basic drive any man has after all, "Sex."
Bonnie is taken aback for a moment, her cheeks flush slightly as she looks away annoyed. It's been just a slip of the tongue. He wasn't trying to flirt with her but he can't think of Elena either, right now. He's lying on the floor, looking up at her like any eager lover should, and he wants her to straddle him. Oh, Fuck.
I know I wont get out if I fall in
So I dont wanna think about it now
It's dark in my imagination
His own sudden desire slaps him awake and he stands, irked, brushing away some dust from his jeans, like he can get rid of her too with that simple gesture.
"Dog," she addresses him, careful to show herself disgusted at his bluntness.
"In flesh and teeth," he agrees, passing his tongue over his teeth.
Yes, he's a dog, he thinks, he will fuck anything pretty enough to arouse him so it's no wonder that for a moment – a very brief moment – he wanted her. It does not mean a thing.
"Now, if you'll excuse me," he says with a grin, "I have someone to do."
"Do you see anyone trying to stop you?" she asks back, chin high and daring eyes, before turning on her heels to go back to whatever the fuck she was doing before messing with his mind.
He walks away knowing she won't even bother to look back, and it doesn't annoy him. At all. In fact, he's too eager to find Elena.
He's hard even before he spots her, his skin still burning even after he touched her.
It's dark in my imagination
It's dark in my imagination
"Don't say a word if you don't want me to stop," he whispers against her ear, hand wrapped around her neck, before he pushes her to bend over the nearest flat surface he can find.
She moans but that too upsets him because his mind has not been quiet for days and he needs silence.
"Shhh," he repeats, as he enters her from behind and she bites her tongue obediently. He drives ruthlessly into her, chasing a quietness that escapes him, desperately trying to empty his mind into her willing body.
He can't stand the image of Stefan's smug face that pities him like he knows him better that Damon knows himself. It riles him up so much that he slaps Elena's ass like it would slap the grin off his brother's face.
He doesn't want to remember Elena's light tone when she told him he loves Bonnie, like that's just simple and inconsequential – another slap and another thrust and Elena hardly swallows a moan but he doesn't care.
Most of all he can't think of Bonnie and the smell of her skin under that damn perfume Stefan bought her, and her blushing cheeks and her biting mouth.
Are you somewhere waiting for me
I don't wanna think about it now
He won't think of that, he thinks, as he pounds into her, no he won't. He's happy, he's in love, he loves nothing else but this girl bent to his pleasure.
It takes him awhile to find the silence he needs and his release, and when he looks down from his high Elena is breathless on the floor, laughing out of euphoria and pleasure. He adjusts himself inside his jeans and she pulls down her skirt to hide her wet skin.
Damon helps her stand and she kisses him taking his face in her hands. He kisses her back, with his eyes open, like he's waiting for something bad to happen.
"What's gotten into you?" she giggles, flirty and satisfied. He's been waiting for so long to have her like this, eager and free to enjoy each other, and he truly loves her, because he never remembered to do anything else but that after he met her again.
"Nothing," he replies with a shrug, "Didn't you like it?"
She nods her head and assures him. "Actually," she says, caressing his chest, "it's never been so good," and he smiles as he feels his stomach sinksinksink.
All these secrets that you keep
But I don't wanna think about it now
I don't wanna think about it now
I don't wanna think about it now