Damon didn't plan this. He didn't think it would be tonight, but now, hearing Elena wrestled with whether she was good enough for him, he knew it should be. It had to be. Even though things were undeniably awkward with Andie present, he loved having Elena at his side tonight. Everything was richer and brighter with her. Awards and honours didn't do much for him anymore. It had never been why he did the things he did, but his chest stuck out like a peacock's accepting that award tonight because Elena was there. Because she saw him receive it.

Damon loved seeing Elena in his world. It made him realize how much he wanted to keep her there, and even though her life was about to become a mess after this meeting about Liam Davis tomorrow, he wanted to be in it with her. No matter what. If he tried to put this into words, he would screw it up. He would scare her away. He would freak her out. But if he told her with his body—with his hands, with his mouth, with any part of him that could reach any part of her—she would know.

"Take me to your bedroom." He left the breath-wrapped words, half plea, half command, in the fragile shell of her ear.

She looked up at him, and if it were anyone but Elena, Damon would swear her eyes were shy. The bodice of her dress hung around her hips, and she crossed her arms over her breasts. Her eyes flitted from him to the floor, then back up and around her apartment.

"You are sure?" She tucked the fullness of her bottom lip between her teeth.

Damon didn't think it would be like this. He was not dumb or blind or stupid. He had known for weeks this was what she wanted, and he could barely walk straight every time they were in a room together, so she must know how much he wanted it, too. He just wanted it to be the right time; when it would mean as much to her as it would to him.

And now it did.

He was glad they waited and didn't just one-night-stand their way to something less than this would be. He turned her in the direction he knew that led to her bedroom, pressing his chest to her naked back, crossing his arms across her waist and walking her down the hall. Her small steps forward were driving him crazy because he couldn't wait to unwrap this gift he had been saving. He contented himself with nibbles at her neck and kisses across her shoulders until they entered her darkened bedroom.

Elena walked ahead of him, using one arm to turn on the lamp and one arm to cover her breasts. Is this the girl who posed for Playboy? Damon thought. The one who, without blinking, autographs the copies horny boys thrust in her face? If they could see her now. Actually, he would want to gouge out the eyes of anyone who saw her now. Not just the half-naked perfection of her body, but the vulnerability of her eyes in these moments before he took her and she took him. He wanted this just for himself and just for her. These were the most intimate moments of his life and they still had their clothes on.

Damon walked deeper into the room and stopped in front of her, pulling her arm away from her breasts. The cool air piqued her nipples to tight, pink points. Or maybe it was his stare that did that, because he couldn't look at anything else for a few moments. His fingers found the zipper at the base of her spine, tugging until the dress fell to the floor.

He was thirty-five years old. He had seen more naked bodies than he could remember, but everything, everyone else, was pale and distant next to this woman. The elegant slope of her shoulders, the full curve of her breasts with their pouty nipples. The dramatic cinch of her waist swelling into the curve of her hips. The long, toned stretch of those famous legs. Damon hated it when they called her the Goddess because she was flesh and blood and bone, and he wanted to know her, not just her body. But seeing her in this faint light, standing tall in nothing but a lacy black thong, he got it. He understood why they had called her the Goddess.

He sank to his knees, looking up to find Elena's eyes soft and hot on him. With their eyes still melded, Damon slid his tongue over the sleek muscles in her stomach. Her indrawn breath spurred him on to dip his head, with his teeth pulling the strips of lace at her hips aside and down. His fingers took over, pushing the panties over her thighs and knees until they landed around her ankles, resting on her shiny shoes. She stepped out of them, standing on one leg and kicking the other back to take off her shoes.

He gave her a gentle push to the bed, prying her legs open and dusting kisses over the insides of her thighs, behind her knees, over the finely made ankles and the high arch of her foot. She was gasping, panting, whispering his name.

Elena tugged at his hair, pulling him up to her mouth and kissing him deep, her tongue pushing into his mouth and across his teeth. She was biting and sucking his lips. Her hands were frantic, pushing at his jacket, sliding it down his arms. She flicked the buttons of his shirt open. Damon's breath stopped in his throat when her nails scraped across his abs and then drifted down to his zipper. She jerked it down, her eyes on him, all shyness absent. She pushed down his pants until they pooled around his knees. Her eyes, hungry, hot, eager, touched on every part of him she had revealed.

"You are so beautiful, Damon."

Her voice was soft, almost reverent. No one had ever looked at him like this, ever said his name quite that way. They were only touched, only kissed, and Damon was already more satisfied than he had ever been with any woman before her, and yet still ravenous.

Elena stood, pulling Damon to his feet and then pushing him to sit on the bed. His pants and shoes came off, her hands caressing, her mouth worshipping the same way he worshipped her. When she reached the band of his briefs, her fingers hovered and a wicked smile took over her sweet lips. She pulled them over his thighs, her eyes widening when she saw him for the first time.

"Oh me oh my." She sighed and wrapped her hands around him, her grip sure and tight. "Tonight had its stresses."

What the hell is she talking about? Damon wondered. He couldn't hold any sane thought with her hands stroking up and then down, up and then down. He grunted in response, his eyes tightly closed.

"It was so stressful," she continued, her breath hot on the most vulnerable part of him, "I skipped dessert."

Before Damon could tell her it may not be a good idea, that he might not last if she did this, she took him in her mouth and down her throat.

"Damn." Her mouth working at him, the pull and suck, wrenched the imprecation from him. "Elena…..."

"That's next"—she let him go long enough to assure him—"I like my dessert first."

Just when Damon was sure he would erupt in her mouth, his fingers fisted in her hair, she released him and stood to her feet, licking her shiny lips.

"You taste better than that cheesecake." A husky laugh passed her lips, and she ran the tips of her fingers over her breasts, down her stomach, and past her thighs. "Do you want to touch me, Damon?"

Damon answered with his hands, running them over the muscles in her butt and thighs, sliding them over her breasts. He slipped his hand into the tight cove between her legs, thrusting one finger into the slick heat.

Her head dropped back, her hips flexing with the motion of his finger.

"Damon, I'm ready. I'm so ready."

"Are you sure, Elena?" he asked hoarsely. "You seemed hesitant before."

Elena captured his eyes with hers, not blinking or letting them go as she settled her knees on either side of his legs. Damon couldn't believe this was finally going to happen.

"Dammit, Elena." He rested his forehead against her neck. "Protection."

A laugh drifted up from her throat.

"Are you going to think badly of me when I reach into my supply by the bed?"

Damon ran his hand up her back, thrusting his fingers into her hair and holding her head still, holding her eyes with his.

"Not as long as that's just my supply from now on."

Little pieces of her smile slowly fell away until her mouth was a sober line. She stretched to the bedside table, took out and tore the foil packet, sliding the condom over him. Breath huffed past his lip at even that simple touch.

Eyes locked with his, she slowly slid down over him, pressing her nose to his.

"Only yours from now on, Damon. I promise."

It was slow at first, a gentle rise and fall of her hips, but Damon was pushing up deeper and harder with every motion. A small line sketched between her brows, and her top lip was hidden in the full curve of the bottom.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked.

"Good grief no," Elena gasped, tipping her head back until her hair brushes his thighs. "I'm just…"

She rolled her hips into him, elbows hooked at his neck, breasts caressing his chest. Every thrust, every brush of their bodies, every slide in and out, stoked something between them. They became frantic, her cries, his pants, their breaths filling the room. Damon loved how hard she rode him, how there were no inhibitions, only a complete immersion into this inferno of pleasure.

"Damon, I…"She squeezed her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed pink, her lip between her teeth. "Ahhhh. Oh. Yes. Oh, yes."

And Damon was right behind her, coming so hard his vision went bright. He gripped her hips, still pumping over him. His hands slid over her sweat-slick thighs, up to her back, pressing her as close to him as he could manage. He crossed his arms at her back, melding their bodies until not even a breath could separate them.

With his head buried in her long dark brown hair, and the soft kisses she left at his neck and over his shoulders as they came down, Damon knew he wanted nothing to ever separate them again.