A/N: Lemons. Graphic descriptions. Not your thing? Skip those parts. If it is, happy reading!
**This chapter is also dedicated to voicegrl**
Act VIII Scene 9
They were cocooned in one another. In sheets that were cool in some places, damp in others, scorching where they were intertwined together. Damon couldn't stop running his hand across Bonnie's back. She snored softly, wiggled occasionally seeking out a spot to get comfortable, to get closer.
His sleeping had been disturbed. Nightmare. It was different from the ones following trials and escapades in Salem. Damon tried to think about everything but it. But as nightmares were wont to do, it stuck around, clung to him like a web you could feel but couldn't see.
Now in the morning light, Damon let it fade away. He clutched Bonnie tighter scared he might be on the verge of a relapse. Two weeks was hardly long enough to call himself "cured". He was always going to want blood, as much as he could get his hands on. Controlling the impulse to kill, maim—that would take longer still. For now, the urge was a simmer, undulating in the fibers of his id.
Eating and killing were the last things on his mind with Bonnie's naked breasts cushioned against him, her scent imbedded in everything, the locks of his hair included.
Damon gently Eskimo kissed Bonnie's forehead and slid out from under her. She whimpered but didn't wake up. Her hair was a tousled cloud around her head while tiny beads of sweat pebbled in the middle of her spine. Staring at Bonnie, a surge of fierce love and adoration pounded in his veins to the point he released a shuddering breath.
You lucky son of a bitch, he thought of himself. Don't screw this up.
Leaning over, Damon kissed the birthmark on Bonnie's left shoulder and rose from the bed. He didn't bother pulling on his jeans. Padded bare ass to the bathroom, flicked on the light, turned on the faucet. He filled his hands with ice cold water and splashed his face, rinsed his neck, and winced. There were a few scratches compliments of Bonnie's nails that had yet to heal. Damon smiled crookedly and stared at his reflection.
A few hours ago a part of Damon felt like he had lost his virginity. The thought was absurd on account of how much sex he's had, but he rarely made love to anyone. That's what he did. He didn't fuck or have sex, he made love to Bonnie. Feeling her tremble, looking into her trusting eyes, Damon felt pressure to not only make her first time good, but to make it special. He bypassed his usual route of seduction by cunnilingus despite Bonnie's order to do just that. No. It had been a slow burn as he massaged her from head to foot making every spot in between pliant and malleable.
The piercing hiss Bonnie let out when his nimble fingers massaged her dripping wet folds still echoed in his ears. The way her body arched when he pinched her pearl between index and middle fingers had been erotically beautiful. And the cry Bonnie let out as he sunk his thumb into her…his hands gripped the sides of the sink. Damon had worked his thumb in and out, first at a torturously slow pace and then faster.
"Please, please, please," she had begged with her eyes screwed shut, fondling her impossibly hard nipples.
He didn't stop until she came and when she did, he replaced his thumb with two fingers and started all over again.
Sensing her readiness, Damon had lined up just right and slid granite hard into Bonnie.
That was probably the single greatest moment of his life.
Her entire body had clenched him from inside to out. Pussy walls suffocated his shaft, her arms and thighs had squeezed him to stave off the bristling ache of penetration.
"Damon," Bonnie called him sleepily.
Shattered out of his musings, Damon turned off the water and groaned at his erection. He stepped out of the connecting bathroom, methane-blue irises blazing. "Morning."
"Hi," she replied softly.
Bonnie in rumpled sheets that she hiked up to cover her naked breasts was his new favorite thing. He had never seen a more adorable sight. Damon resisted chuckling as he observed Bonnie's cheeks turn rosy as she stared, unabashedly, at the corded veins protruding from his hard on.
The air became charged.
Bonnie doubted she'd ever get tired of looking at Damon naked or fully clothed. She had done her fair share of drooling over guys with six packs and bulging biceps, but never really gave much thought to penis size. Staring at Damon's made her core throb which it hadn't stopped since last night.
He stood there and made a show of dragging a hand down his pecks. Bonnie's tongue burned with thirst the moment Damon wrapped his fingers around that turgid muscle and stroked.
"See something you like?" he smeared a bead of pre-cum around the darkening head of his cock.
Her womb strummed to life. "I do."
"Want it?"
"I do but I don't know if I can do it again."
The scent of her arousal said otherwise; nonetheless, Damon pouted and dropped his hand. He rejoined Bonnie in bed who wasted not a second to snuggle into to him.
Wrapped around Damon, Bonnie let out a breathy sigh at the feel of his skin on hers, and hissed when he carefully slid his thigh between her legs.
"You okay?" he felt her flinch.
"I'm sore which is to be expected."
"How bad does it hurt?"
"Not as bad. Not like it hurt after you…after we finished," blood scorched Bonnie's cheeks. The memory of Damon sliding out of her, post-coital, made her gasp so abruptly, she literally stopped breathing for a second.
Soon though, she had been distracted seeing his still erect penis covered in their combined juices as pearly beads of cum spurted from the tip seemingly each time he exhaled. Damon had smirked cockily, of course, since he caught her staring, but kissed Bonnie on the forehead, nose, chin, and lulled her to sleep by murmuring how she'd always be safe with him.
Bonnie didn't think it was possible to feel so close to someone, and yet still experience a twinge of fear they might hurt her. Her feelings were twisted, contorted into a knot she wasn't sure how to unravel. Her heart seemed packed too tightly with new and converging sensations. Bonnie blinked away tears. It was too much and at the same time, not enough. The love she carried in her heart for Damon doubled, tripled in one night and for a second, Bonnie really felt insane. She remembered the fear she felt after his attack in Atlanta. If anything were to happen to him now…she rebuked the thought. No one and nothing would take Damon from her.
Despite her fears, it couldn't eclipse the happiness beaming from every cell of her body. Bonnie was surprised she wasn't glowing like a pregnant woman.
She had sex! Amazing sex and she wanted to do it again. Eventually.
Bonnie rolled atop her boyfriend planting open-mouth kisses across his torso. Damon brushed her hair aside so he could watch, and grunted at her teeth tugging his nipple. His soldier was ready to march, but he acknowledged Bonnie was too sore to try again.
"You should soak in a hot bath."
"Did you mean it last night?" they spoke simultaneously.
"Did I mean what?" Damon angled his head to get a better view of Bonnie.
She placed her chin on his chest, drew little designs absently on his shoulder. "When you said that I would always be safe with you…did you mean it?"
"Of course. Everything about you is important to me. Safety included."
Those words sent flurries of heat convalescing through Bonnie. "When you say safe what do you mean?"
"I think we both know I'm not going to drain you, but," Damon stopped to gather his thoughts.
Being sappy and syrupy was not his strong suit, and opening up made him feel itchy. It had been his long standing rule never to let anyone touch or even discuss his emotions. If he didn't outwardly show how he felt then don't fucking waste your time asking. That's how he used to be and, yeah at times he missed being a purposely closed book. Damon had reformed making the conjecture that being vulnerable wasn't synonymous with being weak. Conversely, he had to ask: what did he really mean when he said those words to Bonnie?
He was always going to protect her. That was given. He wouldn't take her heart for granted—or at the very least try his very best not to. Regardless of the centuries spent on the planet, he was essentially a novice at being a boyfriend. He knew he was bound to make mistakes.
Damon shifted until they were facing one another. He played with a tendril of Bonnie's hair, brought it to his lips and kissed it. The gesture made her smile.
"I don't ever want to make you regret being with me," he finally said.
Bonnie countered, "What if you end up regretting being with me?"
"I don't think that's possible."
"How would you know? Are you the psychic between us now?"
"I know, witchy because I may have met a lot of people but none—"
"—oh no, don't hit me with the 'no other girl like you'. I am like other girls, other women but with subtle differences."
Damon resisted rolling his eyes, "Aren't we smelling ourselves? I wasn't going to say I've never met anyone like you. I have and her name was Emily Bennett. What I was going to say, you rude little interrupter, is that I've never met anyone who made me feel entirely human…until you."
Bonnie's half-lidded orbs were wide open now.
"Anytime I fucked up around you my first response wasn't to go out and kill someone, but to make up for the mistake," his tone became a bit embittered that Damon would argue was a playful kind of embitterment. He continued, "I didn't always do it, but the urge was there. Coming from someone who used to not give a single shit when my flaws were pointed out says something. I guess what I'm trying to say is, for the first time I'm with someone who inspires me to be a better Damon…for me."
Bonnie had to admit she did not see his confession coming with a pair of binoculars. "I do that for you?"
"That and more."
"I…really had no idea."
In the last few years Bonnie felt her existing only inspired those to develop superiority complexes. Her "friends" had a powerful witch at their disposal activated by certain trigger words. They could mouth off at beings more powerful and deadlier expecting her to come and clean up the mess. She never figured anyone saw her as something more than a tool or that she inspired anyone to be better. The fact Damon said she influenced him to be better for himself made her fall even more in love with him.
Damon traced the shell of the petite witch's ear. "I keep a lot of things close to my chest. Just because I don't show it, doesn't mean I'm not thinking about something or in your case, someone."
Bonnie let that soak in. That was another common thread she and Damon shared. There used to be a time where Bonnie couldn't keep anything locked in. But it changed when vampires plunged into her world, demands were made, and she felt she had no one she could talk to or trust with her emotions. Even when she had been with Jeremy, Bonnie limited what she shared with him because she wasn't convinced he'd really understand, or would tell those she didn't want to know anything about her. Now, she couldn't see herself holding back with Damon, and she didn't want to. She wouldn't. She was determined that he would know everything about her, and she him.
Bonnie sat astride him. Damon hummed his approval. "When I think about how much I love you," she began, "how much I enjoy being with you it makes me dizzy, but scares me at the same time. I've never been this happy before, Damon. And it might seem like a dumb thing to say since I've only been alive for 18 years, but what I remember from my childhood…I remember there being a lot of loneliness and isolation. Part of me sort of accepted that my life wouldn't get any better, and to just be okay with it. I was on life support and didn't even know it," she paused for a breath. "You've helped me in more ways than you're even aware of. You've pushed me to understand I don't need to carry weight that's too heavy, and for that I'll always love you."
Damon cupped her cheek. "After everything I've done, I can't believe someone like you could love me. But I'm glad that you do. I love you, Bonnie Bennett. Never let me forget that."
"I won't."
In the quiet that ensued, snuggled chest to chest, they fell back to sleep.
Act VIII Scene 1
The weather outside gave no indication as to how tonight would end. It was a gloriously sunny day with temperate weather, blue and clear skies with the occasional burst of wind. It was the perfect fall day, a day for picking apples and watching the leaves change color.
However it would take C4 and a crowbar to get Bonnie to leave her bed and Damon's arms.
Waking up from a short nap, they were once again all over each other. Bonnie giggled at the pleasant feel of Damon's lips and blunt teeth suckling her neck. Her hands explored the taut muscles of his back and arms, her feet were planted on his hairy thighs as he subtly began to piston his hips, his python hardening and rising to action.
"I want you," Bonnie whispered in Damon's ear.
"You sure?"
She nodded.
He didn't need to be told twice. Damon was happy to oblige.
That was until pounding started on the front door. Damon let out a frustrated growl, and somewhere in his grumble, Bonnie heard him mumble unintelligibly. He paused for a moment, and whatever decision he came to, she was rewarded the benefits because his mouth was back on hers.
Yet their lips separated with a resounding smack because the knocks on the door turned into incessant bell ringing. Damon was off the bed and jumping into his jeans. Whoever was at the door was about to fucking die.
"Where are you going?" Bonnie frowned.
"Someone can't tell that you don't want to be disturbed. I'm getting rid of whoever it is and then," he leaned forward, kissed his girlfriend, "I'll be crawling into you…dick first."
Bonnie shoved him.
Bounding downstairs, Damon threw open the door the least bit surprised Jeremy effing Gilbert would be the cockblocking urchin. Affecting a Cheshire cat grin, Damon folded his brawny arms and stood, feet shoulder length apart in jeans that were barely done up. He wondered if the boy's human nose could scent Bonnie on him. Damon was curious how long it would take the kid to make the connection of what he and Bonnie had been doing before his chest puffed up with self-righteous indignation.
Jeremy's chocolate eyes narrowed but then widened marginally as he got a good look at Damon. He knew that smirk. Had seen it often enough when the bastard would come strutting into the Grill after fucking some random chick. Jeremy's heart began to pound in tandem at the implication, but a part of him refused to believe Bonnie would actually sleep with Damon. Maybe that made him naïve, but Jeremy still carried a small sliver of hope that Bonnie would come to her senses and realize Damon wasn't right for her and dump him.
He knew something had gone down. In the last two weeks the witch and vampire were rarely seen together. Anytime young Gilbert saw either of them, Bonnie wore a crestfallen expression whereas Damon had been moodier than usual. Through Elena, Jeremy knew Damon had been attacked, nearly died, and that his sister blurted out being in love with Damon not only to the vampire in question but to Bonnie as well. Jeremy thought for sure that Damon would have ditched Bonnie to be with Elena, but nothing of the sort happened.
So the only conclusion left to make was Damon genuinely loved Bonnie.
Jeremy's neck grew hot; armpits began to sweat as the two stood there silent and posturing.
"What the hell do you want?" Damon said.
"Bonnie," and Jeremy deliberately paused. Damon made a fist. "Is she here?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Is she here or not, Damon?" Jeremy reiterated testily.
This would be the point where Damon would make a crude reference to something sexual, but he refrained out of respect for his girlfriend. Who he heard approaching.
Bonnie rounded the corner, strolled into the foyer in her robe. "Damon, who is…Jeremy! What are you doing here?"
The sour expression on Jeremy's face didn't melt. In fact, it became stonier. He gave her a once over, absorbing Bonnie's flushed complexion, wild hair, raw and swollen lips. He turned a bit green. "I…never mind. I see you're busy. I'll talk—see you later."
Damon snorted and thought good riddance as Jeremy pivoted and stomped down the porch steps to his car. Bonnie closed the door, locked it.
"Did he say what he wanted?" she asked Damon.
"No, but I think it's kind of obvious. That kid wants my girl," he laughed.
"I don't see what's so funny."
"Well," Damon slithered to Bonnie, hooking his pointers underneath the satin lapels of her robe. "This is a first for me. For once someone is envious of me and what I have."
"And you're taking joy in it?"
"Don't sound surprised."
"I'm not surprised. I just don't want you to take what we have and rub it in Jeremy's face."
"Fine, after you."
"What are you talking about?"
Damon leaned closer, "Like you don't want to parade me around Elena like a new handbag."
Bonnie's mouth opened, closed, opened again. "That's irrelevant."
Damon tipped his head back and bellowed. "Please do. I like being treated like meat," he widened his eyes.
"If that's the case…take off those jeans."
"Yes, ma'am," backing up a step, Damon's hand was already on his zipper. "Wait. I have a better idea. I'm taking you out."
"Where?" Bonnie tried not to hop from foot to foot like an eager puppy. Failed.
Damon ran through choices in his head. "I know just the spot. It's upscale so put on your best dress. I gotta run a few errands." He zipped from the living room and returned seconds later fully dressed. He kissed Bonnie roughly. "See you in two hours."
Bonnie put on some Prince and danced to the shower. The tub needed cleaning, but she wasn't in the mood to clean it yet she really wanted to soak knowing it would make her loins feel better. Huffing, Bonnie ventured to the laundry room to gather the necessary supplies. Ten minutes later she was soaking in her bath salts and steamy water.
Half an hour later, Bonnie toweled dry and trailed inside her closet. She stared at the array of dresses and knew at which event she had worn each one, but they screamed high school, and she was no longer in high school. A black garment bag hanging in the far back drew her curiosity.
Unzipping it, recognition hit. It was the dress she purchased for Tyler's graduation party that she never got to wear since she skipped out of town. It was the dress she splurged on to make up for the ill-fitted gown she wore at prom. Bonnie checked the size. It should still fit. She had regained some of the weight she lost during her illness, but remained a few pounds shy of her normal weight.
Bonnie found the shoes she bought to go with the dress, snatched those and the garment bag out of the closet, and tossed them on her bed. She lost the towel and went to work on moisturizing her skin.
Her phone beeped. Bonnie frowned. It was a text message from Jamie. First Jeremy, now him? Did boys have a special sensor when a girl was deflowered, she thought and read what her mom's unofficial stepson had to say.
Hey, we haven't spoken in a while. Hope ur doing okay. Hit me back if ur not doing anything.
"Sorry, bud but my nights are all booked," Bonnie deleted the text and his number and finished getting ready.
She had about five minutes left in the two hours Damon said he would be away. Her brain swam with ideas of where he might take her, but no matter where it was, Bonnie knew she'd enjoy herself.
Capping her perfume, the young witch gave herself one final once-over. She had painstakingly pinned her hair into a messy bob. Her excited pulse beat faster because Bonnie was such a minimalist when it came to makeup. Hopefully I haven't overdone it, she thought taking a Q-tip to wipe away any smudges of her luxe eyeliner. She blotted her matte lipstick to even the coat.
Bonnie stilled at the sound of Damon's car pulling into the driveway. She ran around her bedroom throwing essentials into her clutch then took a moment to inhale and exhale. Bonnie shook her hands. Why was she more nervous to go out on a date than she had been having sex? Maybe because it was their first real date since becoming official.
"Bonnie!" Damon yelled from downstairs.
"Coming!"
The swish of her chiffon skirt tickled her bare caramel thighs as she navigated the staircase in five inch heels.
She smelled him before catching sight of her boyfriend standing in the foyer. Green eyes took the scenic route of his form. When he wanted to Damon could show his fashion tastes extended beyond tight t-shirts, jeans, and leather jackets. Tonight he was the epitome of sensual sophistication with a hint of animal magnetism. His black suit was fitted and European cut, shirt unbuttoned revealing a lot of chest. Bonnie was surprised he was wearing actual loafers and not his motorcycle boots.
Damon tugged on his blazer sleeve, and had to resist palming himself at seeing Bonnie wearing cardinal red. The sweetheart neckline molded perfectly to her amble breasts. She twirled for him revealing the low back of the dress that flared out into a layered chiffon skirt that hit her mid-thigh. Damon wasn't too sure they'd make it to the restaurant. The only thing her strappy footwear was saying to him was: fuck me.
"Damon?"
"Hun?" he said distractedly, eyes on her feet.
"I'm ready."
He finally lifted his gaze. "You are the shit."
"Thank you. How did I manage to get such a hot boyfriend?"
Damon grinned and tugged her to his chest for a kiss that went on and on and on. Most of her lipstick ended up on his mouth, but he was grinning too goofily for Bonnie to care.
They were outside after Bonnie locked down the Bennett pad. Damon opened the door to his Camaro for her. As he drove them out of Mystic Falls to Cape Charles, Virginia, which was an hour away, he alternated between holding her hand and clutching her knee.
The architecture of the restaurant looked like a complicated dessert to Bonnie. She couldn't read the name emblazoned in gold block lettering because it was in Greek, but the establishment offered valet parking, a door man, no waiting lines, and a smartly dressed staff that greeted them like esteemed guests.
Bonnie took in the surroundings as Damon spoke in dulcet tones with the hostess. Overhead lighting beamed on chocolate tile reflecting rainbows of gold, and lit the near billboard size impressionists' paintings. The seating area held two contemporary ottomans big enough to sit six people comfortably. Just to the right of the hostess booth was a fountain that emptied into a small pond stocked with live Khoi.
"Right this way," the hostess grabbed two menus and led them to an elevator.
Down they went.
Fingers entwined, Damon dipped his head and sang lyrics in Bonnie's ear they had just finished listening to, "Oh how I love being inside your love..."
Bonnie flushed and failed in her attempt to jab her boyfriend with an elbow. The threat to behave she was about to issue died the minute they disembarked the lift and sauntered into the belly of the restaurant, which actually turned out to be…
"Ohmygod we're inside of a cave! A cave! Really?" Bonnie's astonishment reverberated off the cavernous walls. Green eyes traveled upward. Several hundred stalactite formations in varying sizes hung overhead, but the larger ones dubbed as chandeliers. They crossed a ramp that was built over a pool of clear water, colorful natural stones resting at the bottom, small silver fish swimming jerkily here and there. Bonnie counted the number of tables once they reached the dining mezzanine. There were only fifteen tables adorned in chocolate linen, red votive candles acting as centerpieces. Peppered throughout the space were potted cherry blossom trees and dwarf radicands gardenia bushes. Instrumental music droned quietly in the background.
"Is this real?"
"It's real enough," Damon pulled out her chair once they arrived at their table. He pinched her bottom before taking his seat. Bonnie was too mesmerized by the ambiance to notice.
"Your server will be right with you," the hostess announced, handing Damon and Bonnie their menus. "Enjoy your meal and thank you for dining at Elysium."
"Thank you," Bonnie murmured. "Elysium…I've heard of this place before, but I thought it was just a myth."
"Why'd you think it was a myth?" Damon whipped out the table napkin that had been intricately folded in his wineglass, draped it across his lap.
"There was this girl in my class Giselle Chisholm… she said her mom was a private shareholder of a restaurant that was super exclusive because it dwells inside of a cave. I thought she was making the whole thing up," Bonnie took another visual tour of the restaurant. "I stand corrected. This place is beautiful."
Inwardly, Damon was pleased Bonnie liked it so much. "Giselle's mom might be a private investor, but this little slice of paradise belongs to my family."
Bonnie stared at him blankly for a second then hitched a shoulder. "Of course."
"Why do you have to say it like that?"
Opening her menu, Bonnie perused her entrée choices. "No reason. I just figured…the numerous homes, the classic cars you and Stefan drive, not to mention your bourbon collection, you'd have to generate income some kind of way," she made eye contact over the top of the menu. "So you're a private investor, too?"
"I am. A distant relative actually owns and operates this place. I get a cut in dividends. And since we're on the subject of how I can afford to keep myself in jeans and t-shirts"—Bonnie giggled—"I'm also the proud owner of a bar. Well, it's more of a tavern in Little Italy, New York."
"Stocks and bonds?"
"I have those, too," Damon saw their server approaching.
They were given complimentary bread and pesto to dip. Damon ordered a bottle of wine that cost more than Bonnie's car payment. She could say it was a bit overwhelming to be in such an upscale restaurant where the bill would be more than anyone should ever spend on two plates of food.
Bonnie sighed contently, nonetheless. "Are you doing all this so you can get laid?"
"Yeah," Damon shrugged nonchalantly. "Is that bad?"
"Why do you think I went all out tonight? I'm trying for the same thing."
Damon laughed loud enough to draw stares.
"You should know all you have to do is say 'hello' to me, and I'm ready to give it up," he waggled his brows.
"I'll remember that."
Their server returned inquiring if they were ready to order, which they did. Filet mignon for Damon, crab cakes for Bonnie.
She tapped her nails on the foot of her water glass. "You know, hearing you talk about where your money comes from made me realize that I have no idea how I would support myself if I really had to. The bills at my dad's house were automatically withdrawn from his account. All I had to do was keep track of it. The only job I had besides the occasional babysitting gig or being a lifeguard, was working part time as a sales associate, and you know how that turned out," Bonnie swiped her fingers through the flame of a candle. "I know fifteen ways to disarm a vampire, but don't know if I'm good with numbers to be an accountant, or if I'm really interested in science enough to study medicine."
"You're eighteen, you'll figure it out. Before the bullshit started, did you know what you wanted to major in college?"
Bonnie broke off a piece of bread, lapped up the rest of the pesto. "Yep. Besides Occult Studies, Whitmore has a very good public relations program. At one point I had been ambitious enough to decide I wanted to be a double major. I was going to pledge the sorority Grams had been a part of, join the student council, be an ambassador," she shook her head in bemusement. "Before the bullshit I wasn't that great of a student. I figured college would be my do over."
"Part of me feels like I messed that up for you."
Their gazes caught and held. "You didn't. I'm just as responsible for letting important pieces of my life fall through the cracks."
Damon remarked, "You and I have something else in common. I hated school. The lessons were repetitive. The teachers were dumb and strict with a severe lack of imagination."
A gleam came into Bonnie's eyes. "How were you with the ladies?"
Damon stared off for a moment, unbeknownst to him turning a bit pink in the face. "I…well you see the thing is…I had no game," he admitted sheepishly. "There wasn't much you could get away with doing without a contract back then. I didn't date or court anyone."
"No one caught your eye? You never had a crush on anyone?"
"Sure there were a few I thought were beautiful, but they were shier than I was. Two shy people trying to have a conversation is one of the most painfully awkward situations in the world."
"Wait a minute, you were shy?"
Damon's orbs went heavenward. "Yes, Bonnie I haven't always been this overconfident asshole you see before you today. As far as having a crush, there was someone. Before Katherine."
"Tell me about her."
"You want to know about her?"
"I want to know everything about you."
Damon patted his lips with the napkin. She was asking him for an exclusive, and as much as his innate need to be tight-lipped reared its head, Damon peeled back the layers and let Bonnie in. Didn't make it any less uncomfortable for him, though.
"Her name was Jessalyn. Jessalyn Montgomery," he recounted slowly. "Her mother was a seamstress and her father was a merchant who died of typhoid fever a year after they moved to Mystic Falls. My mother had sent me to the shop where Mrs. Montgomery worked to pick up some lace, ribbons or something, and there she was, sitting next to the window doing her needlework.
"She had black hair like me, brown eyes. I just remember looking at Jessalyn and feeling like a mule kicked me in the gut. I found out that she taught French as a side business. So I hired her as my tutor, paying her with my allowance," he snorted depreciatingly. "We met every Tuesday from two to three, where I'd pretend I didn't know a single word of a language I was already partially fluent in."
Bonnie smiled, unsurprised. "You liked her that much you pretended not to know French."
"Shameless, right? My dad reared Stefan and I the same as he was brought up. We knew the modern languages. I could read and write it, but pronunciation is where I ran into trouble. Her lessons helped me out a little."
"You never asked her out?"
"Once. I asked her to go night swimming. She declined because it wasn't proper, but agreed to a picnic. We ate by the creek. She took off her boots and hose, and I got to peep her toes and ankles," he smirked wickedly.
Bonnie guffawed. "Wow, so naughty."
"For the 1850's it was."
"Did you kiss her?"
Damon shook his head. "No, things never got that far between us. I think she sensed I liked her, but treated me like a little brother. She was older than me by a year or two. Plus, she was terrified of my father."
Bonnie found that more than understandable, "What happened to her?"
Damon looked reflective for a moment, answered, "I don't know. My mom got sick and everything else took a backseat. By the time my mom was dead and buried, Jessalyn and her mom had moved up north according to the gossip," reaching for his glass, Damon drained the contents. "That concludes part two of my sordid human past, witchy. What about you? Who was your first crush?"
Their food arrived before she could answer. Bonnie inhaled the decadent smell of her broiled crab, picked up her fork and dug into her meal. Damon sliced into his steak.
Bonnie moaned after the first bite and licked remoulade sauce from the tines of her fork.
"Good?" Damon drawled.
"Very. How's your filet mignon?"
"Bloody, the way I like it. First crush, judgy don't think you're off the hook from spilling."
She sighed, "My first major crush...it's a little embarrassing but…Zach Salvatore."
Damon swore the blood drained out of his head. "My nephew!"
"Shush!" Bonnie glanced around to make sure Damon's outburst hadn't drawn any attention. Satisfied people were engrossed in their own meals and conversation, she resumed speaking. "He reminded me of a young Paul Newman. You were around when he first came on the acting scene so please don't hate."
The immortal pressed his lips together yet conceded. "Fine. Yes, I agree young Paul Newman was a fox, Lolita."
"Shut up."
"How did that twisted crush come about? Do I even want to know this?" he muttered to himself.
"I was thirteen and my feelings were…changing. I was becoming more aware of things. What I was attracted to, what grossed me out. My English teacher had to take a leave of absence. Zach was the substitute. He helped me conjugate my verbs."
Damon didn't appreciate the innuendo. "Who came after Zach, or are you still carrying a torch for him?"
Though the question may have been asked flippantly, Bonnie could detect a hint of jealousy in Damon.
Her lips twitched. Bonnie ran her foot up the side of Damon's leg. He sat up a little straighter, gaze filling with lust.
"The next person I crushed on was someone age appropriate," she revealed. "Connor O'dair. He was a year older, captain of our middle school varsity football team, and the primary reason I tried out for cheerleading. Though Caroline and Elena believed it was for girl power solidarity. I was just trying to get a date. Did I get a date? Yes, and I found out sometimes fantasy is better than reality."
The dark-haired vampire snorted. "He tried to kiss you?"
"We did kiss and but he tried to shove his hand up my skirt. I kneed him in the balls."
"Atta girl," pause. "What would you do if I attempted that move on you?"
Bonnie bit down on her fork. "I wouldn't stop you."
Damon lifted a finger in the air, "Can I get the check?"
"We just got our food! I'd like some dessert."
"Who needs dessert when there's me." To that Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Hey, we need to commemorate this moment. It is our first official date," Damon plucked his cell from the inner breast pocket of his blazer. He hopped into the chair next to Bonnie, pressed their cheeks together as he held the phone—arm length away—ready to snap a selfie. At the last second Bonnie moved and kissed him instead. The picture turned out blurry prompting a do over. The second time the image of their gorgeous, smiling faces came out perfectly. Damon set it as his lockscreen wallpaper.
"There's something I'm curious about," Damon moved back to his seat.
"What?"
"What you did during those weeks you were MIA. You never told me."
"I thought I had."
"You didn't," Damon insisted.
"All right," Bonnie scooted her chair closer to the table. "The first place I went to was Virginia Beach. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen the ocean, felt sand between my toes. I stayed for a week. Went swimming every day, found this little bar that didn't card. I didn't really talk to anyone, didn't want to, didn't want to get attached because I figured I was dying. Next was Ocean City, Maryland. I was there for two weeks contemplating getting a job in a casino. There I did meet someone. Another girl running from her problems. She won two thousand at the slot machine and invited me out to dinner. I had lobster for the first time and sushi. Must say I'm a fan of both now.
"After that I was on my way to New York, but I was running low cash. While stopped at this dive I thought about calling my dad, and asking him to wire me some money. I changed my mind because I knew if I heard his voice I'd come home and if I didn't...it would remind me why I left. And that was the night I was robbed. Followed by this douche and douchette who figured I must have a large wad of cash on me. They walked away very disappointed. I literally licked my wounds in this crappy motel where I cried my eyes out, but I don't remember much of anything. I got so drunk.
"Two days later I ran into you."
A brow arched, "Now here we are. Together."
"Yep."
Damon reached for Bonnie's hand, kissed her individual knuckles. Warmth funneled everywhere inside of her.
After slices of cheesecake were devoured, the bill paid, tip settled they walked around the pavilion and the manmade lake whispering secrets. The air had turned chilly and Bonnie shivered. Damon tossed his jacket over her shoulders.
"Thank you."
"My pleasure."
Bonnie stifled a yawn but Damon caught her anyways.
"Tired?" he stuffed a hand in his pocket.
"Yeah. I am a bit worn down from last night's activities."
His grin was filthy. "I guess I better get you home, then. Tuck you into bed."
"I'm not that tired! Give me a coffee fix. That's all I need."
Extracting his keys from his pocket, Damon grabbed Bonnie's hand. "Let's go!"
Act VIII Scene 2
Heading to the Bennett residence was out since Papa Bennett had returned from an overnight trip to Richmond. Damon rerouted to his casa, texting Stefan telling him to find somewhere else to sleep for the next twenty-four hours. Chasing Bonnie upstairs who laughed and sprinted like a spooked rabbit into the bathroom, Damon emptied out his pockets.
A piece of thread got snagged in his daylight ring. It had also got caught in Bonnie's hair earlier this morning. He studied his sunlight talisman carefully, seeing it was damaged. A piece of the gilt had broken off. Hmm. It occurred to Damon that he never got around to telling Bonnie the rest of what happened to him, never got around to informing her that he saw and spoke to her grandmother. One thing had led to another. Tomorrow, he'd tell her the rest tomorrow. He took off his ring and sat it atop his chest of drawers. Damon flexed his naked hand and waited.
By the time Bonnie emerged, her hair was down and she was dressed in nothing but a tiny pair of itty-bitty panties. Damon stood on the opposite side of the massive bedroom, glass of white wine in hand, lighting a candle with the other. He turned his head in her direction.
His gaze dipped below her neck, sharpened as the cold air stimulated her areolas. They shrunk until her nipples were points. Lower still he journeyed down her toned body memorizing her quivering abdomen, the thickness of her thighs, the bulge of her calves, and the sexiness of her toes. Damon was convinced that just looking at Bonnie could get him off.
Bonnie loved the way Damon looked at her. His gaze went beyond making her feel sexy, wanted, loved, but uninhibited.
"Come here," she crooked a finger.
It was a summons he obeyed.
Bonnie touched his chest, his skin warmer than expected, hard as one would think a vampire to be. Her hands burrowed in the inky strands of hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer for a kiss that left the both of them hungry for more.
She barely touched him and he already carried a tent in his pants. Damon's mouth watered at the thought of impaling Bonnie's hot pink folds with his tongue. He was going to spell his name on her twat, suck her clit between his lips, make her come until her voice grew hoarse.
Damon picked up Bonnie up right beneath her plump ass, carried her to the bed. Pulled her panties off.
The intensity of his provocative stare was beginning to make Bonnie feel more naked than she currently was. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. She waited and watched as Damon first, pushed her knees to her chest, then pressed his mouth to her triangle of pulsating flesh. His tongue separated her folds, jimmied the hood of her clit.
"Ugnnnn," she cried and panted.
Damon stayed there for quite a while, delivering long, toe-curling licks, inserting his stiff tongue in her canal. He backed off when he knew Bonnie was about to come, teasing the little nubbin hidden beneath the hood of her clit before going hard to work her up once more.
"I need to come," she wheezed. "Make me come."
Hearing those magic words, Damon inserted his middle finger, found her G spot and rubbed.
A crow perched on the thatched roof of the boardinghouse squawked at her high-pitched scream.
Damon patted himself on the back for his oral calisthenics. "Your cream tastes so good, babe."
Bonnie looked away, embarrassed. It died almost instantly a second later. Damon tongued her leg from thigh to foot, sucked on her big toe before sliding that same foot down his chest to his cock that was violently engorged. His upper lip got lost between his teeth as Bonnie massaged him through his pants. He grew harder, thicker while Bonnie's wetness leaked out of her.
Damon shirked his trousers, dick springing free.
She had touched it, fondled it, it had been inside of her but she hadn't tasted it. Bonnie sat up and touched Damon the way she was learning he liked. Damon read the intent in her eyes. Of course he was bursting at the chance to feel Bonnie take him in her mouth, but he wouldn't pressure her to give him head. So he said:
"You sure you want to do that?"
"Yes."
"Slow. Go slowly."
She wrapped her lips around the head, sucked. She was feeling a smidgen more confident and a lot less self-conscious as she touched his body, growing addicted to the low groans and soft growls he made at her ministrations.
Damon cursed.
Bonnie found her rhythm, bobbing occasionally, staring up at him making eye contact, which made Damon hornier and groan deeper. He buried his fingers in her hair.
Saliva dribbled from the corners of her mouth as she engulfed as much as she could take. She nearly choked when the head teased the back of her throat. Bonnie pulled him out of her mouth, coughed, and took a breath.
"Enough for now?" Damon had to restrain himself from blowing. Her mouth had felt incredible.
"I think so. Did you like it?"
"Babe if I was any harder I'd be a fossil. I loved it."
She smiled crookedly.
"We don't have to go any further than this," he said, stroking his shaft.
"I want to."
Damon coaxed Bonnie to lie back, kissing her sloppily and noisily, seizing her mouth with no regard for her need for air. He propped her butt up on a pillow, braced her left knee over his arm, and eased his engorged head inside her slippery and tender opening.
Bonnie immediately tensed and Damon stopped.
He kissed her throat, "Don't freeze up. It'll hurt more if you do. Relax."
Bonnie made an indecipherable noise. Having sex was still so foreign to her, alien, and the pressure of being impaled made her want call the whole act off. Rallying her nerves, Bonnie took a deep breath and unclenched the muscles she unintentionally clenched.
Damon was breathing very hard as he pushed in and pulled out; pushed deeper and withdrew, charged farther and retreated. His eyes crossed and closed at the exquisite feel of Bonnie's twat. Damon grunted and thrust one final time buried almost to the hilt but not quite. Bonnie cried out, back arched. That felt good.
"You like that?" he kissed the corner of her jaw.
"Do it again."
He did. Churned his hips in a provocatively sedate pace, plunging into her unchartered depths.
Connected on all levels, they looked deeply into each other's eyes never wanting to move from this spot. Bonnie reveled in having Damon's weight on her. She didn't feel small or smothered but blanketed. The friction down below made her say things she thought she'd be too shy to say. She had no filter now.
"Fuck me," she rasped.
Damon took her from behind. His left hand clamped on her shoulder, her right holding his wrist, ass jiggling, tits bouncing with each thrust. Bonnie buried her face in the duvet, mouth open but not a single sound escaped.
Red spidery veins bottlenecked to Damon's irises. The snug fit of her pussy around his dick was going to turn him into a fiend. He could feel it.
Bonnie squeaked when she was flipped to her back.
Arms around her thighs Damon jerked Bonnie to the edge of the bed as he climbed off it. Realigning himself, he slid back in and rutted away in a hypnotic rhythm that was definitely shaking some screws loose in the bed. Hitching his foot on the box spring for better leverage, Damon held on to Bonnie's hips driving them both closer to a mind-numbing climax.
The heat became so much Bonnie was dripping with sweat. Damon, too. The lightbulbs brightened to a higher wattage surged with an influx of power. Their electric hum buzzed in Damon's ears. One blew setting off a chain reaction. Shards of glass hit the floor. If it weren't for the candles, the bedroom would have been plunged into darkness.
But Damon never stopped rotating his hips. He bent, latched on to a nipple, pushing the bud around with the flick of his tongue then switched to the other. Bonnie writhed and gripped him, driving more of her breast into his willing mouth. The telltale pressure began where she thought she was might induce an aneurysm on herself. She could barely think which meant she could hardly breathe. Bonnie didn't care about that so much than the fact her pussy as being fucked raw.
Eyes screwed shut, her entire body was a string stretched between two points. Her hips moved faster, nails dug deeper into Damon's ass, and she chanted in a language that was a hybrid of English, Latin, and nonsensical gibberish.
Bonnie lost it when Damon bit her. She screamed, slung shot to the stratosphere, Kegel muscles contracting like a son of a bitch as she came.
Shit, shit, shit, he couldn't decide what tasted better. Her honeyed essence or her blood? Both? Gulp after gulp, her spicy O negative filled his belly. With whatever tethered willpower Damon had left, he stopped drinking before getting carried away.
Damon tossed his head back, his girlfriend's blood sluicing down his throat. His balls tightened signaling his end was imminent. Damon didn't fight it. A rush of cum burst from his cock and Damon released the loudest, most predatorial howl of his life.
His entire body went lax.
Pressed together they breathed in syncopation. Damon cleaned away the blood that beaded from the bite wound on Bonnie's neck. Kissing her chin, he slashed into his wrist and offered it to his spent little sorceress. Her head rolled on the mattress staring at him quizzically. Bonnie's confusion evaporated the second she caught sight of his bleeding limb. She took what she needed, and after getting her fill, licked the tiny trails of blood that rolled down his forearm. Damon watched with rapt interest growing hard again.
Bonnie felt that special nudge. She smiled—tiredly. "I love you, Damon."
He kissed her. "I love you, too."
She motioned to get up and Damon lifted off her to give her room. Bonnie shifted to her side, and looked at him over her shoulder, wiggled her bottom.
His eyebrows lifted as he happily accepted her invitation.
Act VIII Scene 3
Bang! Damon jolted awake. With one eye barely open he surveyed his surroundings. He was under his own roof, a nice warm body cuddled into him. The dazed vampire listened and heard the unmistakable sound of Stefan's boots clumping upstairs. Damon wondered what the time was, and grimaced at the sunlight pouring into his room.
Bonnie rolled over, taking the covers with her leaving him ass out. Chuckling softly, Damon kissed her temple.
Feet slapping lightly against the floor, Damon strolled to the windows to close the curtains. He admired the view for a moment, soaking in the UV rays. Reaching for one of the drapes, Damon froze as he realized he was standing in direct sunlight without his ring and he wasn't burning.
He waited for the sizzle of singed skin, the curl of smoke as his flesh ignited. Waited for red splotches to appear, his dermis to splinter and splay open. Stood in front of his adversary—the sun for it to char him to death. Waited to feel inexplicable pain. Waited and waited. And then…
Absolutely. Nothing. Happened.
A/N: What's going on now? In my last A/N I said I would go back and show how Damon "sobered up" but well Bamon's date took over, so I'll be saving that plot point for another time. I purposely didn't show their first time mainly because I didn't want to, lol. I have to be in a special mood to write smut these days then when I first started writing fanfic. But I do believe I made up for it. Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think.