"We'll be landing in 20 minutes, Mr. Salvatore," the stewardess on the private charter flight let Damon know, keeping her voice low so as not to wake Elena who had dozed off on his shoulder. Being the ever-efficient help, she added, "I took the liberty of letting your driver know. He'll be there to pick you up."

"Thank you, Nicole," Damon replied with a smile and a glance at her nametag.

As she disappeared behind the door marked 'crew only', Damon sat up slightly, careful not to jostle Elena. Her back was leaning against his shoulder, legs up on the loveseat across from them. He tightened the arm that was slung around her middle and let his lips graze her temple.

"We're almost there," he whispered.

She stirred and opened her eyes. Damon watched her as she slowly took in her surroundings and remembered where she was. He watched as she lowered her legs to the floor – barefoot – and as she stretched to reach the shoes that she had removed after they had taken off in the air. Damon had been watching her the whole day. He couldn't not. She was a vision. She always was, but the red strapless mermaid dress did something to him that he couldn't explain. She wore simple yet elegant makeup and had chosen to wear her hair loose, falling over one shoulder in beautiful waves. She looked radiant and regal, even now – worn out after an eventful day.

She strapped the ridiculously high heels back on her feet and sat down next to him again, cuddling up to his side once more. "Thank you for today," she said, not for the first time. "It was amazing." Her hand moved to his thigh and she squeezed lightly.

"I'm glad you had fun," Damon replied and met her lips half-way in a brief kiss.

He wanted to give her a birthday that she wouldn't forget and hoped he managed to deliver. They had gone to Atlantic City in a private jet, watched the matinee performance of a musical show that Elena had been talking about non-stop from VIP seats, and spent the evening in high-end casinos before he took her to dinner in one of the most expensive restaurants with one of the most beautiful views of the ocean. They had topped the night off with drinks and a dance in an upscale cocktail bar.

When they had boarded the plane that would take them back, Elena was exhausted but she was smiling the smile that Damon loved on her best – carefree and happily content that only deepened whenever their eyes met. As the plane approached the landing airstrip, she was already awake and refreshed from her nap.

They landed on the private airfield outside Lynchburg and as advertised, the limo was waiting for them to take them home. As they got comfortable in the backseat of the car, Damon brushed his lips against Elena's ear. "Have I told you already how beautiful you are?"

Elena laughed. "Only about three dozen times or so."

"Well, that won't do," Damon scoffed, clearly of the opinion that it wasn't nearly often enough. He kissed her naked shoulder. "You're a goddess."

Elena looked at him, all heated stares and licking her lips as if looking at a particularly tasty dessert – which, to be fair, was not that far off reality. "God, I want you," she breathed. But the dress was practically molded to her figure – no chance to push it down or ruck it up. There was no way for Damon to get to her fun parts without taking it off completely.

Reading his thoughts, she said, "No, you're not taking this dress off of me here in the car. I'm not wearing anything underneath."

Damon growled and threw his head against the backrest. "I so did not need this visual," he groaned. "I should have gone with my second idea for your special day." He wrapped an arm around her middle and pulled her closer into his side.

"Which was?"

"It was either Atlantic City or chain you to my bed and make you come all day."

Elena had been drawing patterns on his chest with one finger, a little distracted, but following his comment she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him in, lips crashing onto his. For a couple minutes they devoured each other before Damon pulled himself forcefully away. Elena's robe was not going to survive the ride if they continued in the same manner.

"How long until we're home?" Elena asked, chest heaving with every breath.

Damon checked with the driver while Elena stroked his leg in what was supposed to be a calming manner, but the tensed muscles under her palm told her how much control he was exerting to keep his cool. Playing with fire, Elena let her hand travel up and palmed his very hard erection, giving it a light squeeze.

Damon's head swiveled towards her and he bit her shoulder lightly, not breaking the skin but a clear warning nonetheless. "Careful," he said, "or you'll pay for it later."

"Can't wait," Elena replied.

As soon as the door of the mansion closed behind them, Elena was on Damon. She pushed against the closest wall and pressed her body against his, drinking his desperation from his lips. She wanted to wrap a leg around his hips, but the cut of the dress wouldn't allow it. She growled in frustration and pushed away from Damon to finally get rid of the gown. But then she got distracted by the peek of flesh at Damon's throat. She didn't remember when or how he had lost his bow tie or what happened to the top buttons on Damon's dress shirt.

She latched onto the hollow of his throat and, miscalculating her strength in her blind haze of desire, they both hit the opposite wall of the den. After some more pushing and pulling – on clothes and on each other – they somehow ended up on the balcony of the library. Elena ripped her lips away from Damon and turned around, presenting him her back.

"Unzip," she commanded, clutching the wood banister with both hands for support.

Damon, momentarily distracted by her naked back that had teased him all evening thanks to the cut of the gown, eventually found the tab and pulled. The dress gaped open and pooled around Elena's feet. She hadn't been lying; she really was completely naked underneath. Damon encouraged her to turn around and was almost brought to his knees by her sheer beauty. She stepped out of the dress and he noticed that she was still wearing the red satin pumps which made her already long legs seem endless. Damon might have possibly salivated a little looking her up and down. She was about to kick off her high heels when she noticed the expression on her boyfriend's face.

Elena rolled her eyes, but smiled. "You're such a cliché. Don't tell me you've got a thing for women in stilettos. How ever did you manage to keep your hands off of Katherine?" she joked.

Damon leaned in and, under the pretense of stealing a kiss, bit her none too gently on her bottom lip. "I never loved her the way I love you," he said. "Never wanted her the way I want you." He kissed Elena long and hard. "Also," he added, "don't bring up the she-devil when I'm about to make love to you."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Elena teased.

Damon stepped closer and into her space until she was forced to wrap her arms around his neck or topple over the banister. With an arm around her middle, he hoisted her up and she slung her legs around his hips. He sped them to the large leather sofa and lowered Elena onto her back.

Never letting go of him, she fumbled for the fly on his slacks while Damon's palms slid down the length of her legs and slipped off the shoes. Elena raised an eyebrow. By the molten looks he was giving her earlier she'd assumed that he would prefer she keep her heels on. As if reading the question in her eyes, Damon answered, "The shoes do nothing for me. It's you, Elena. God, you've no idea what a look from you does to me, do you? You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

With that, he slipped through the circle of her arms and down to her heated center. He placed one of her legs over the back of the sofa and without further ado buried his tongue in her wetness. One hand in Damon's hair, Elena pushed his face closer and rubbed herself against him, hips working up and down. He let her use his mouth as if it were her favorite sex toy until he felt tiny tremors start in her thighs.

He lifted up a little to ask, "You want to come like this?" He was not at all opposed to make her come with his mouth, if that was what she wanted. In fact, he went right back to pleasuring her.

Elena, coming out of her sex-haze, pulled on his hair gently to lift him away. "No. Inside me. Want you inside me."

With a final swipe up her inner folds, Damon kissed his way up her body until he could sink into her hot mouth. His tongue playing with hers, he lined up his cock with her opening and slowly pushed his length inside of her. Elena moaned appreciatively against his lips and let her hands wander all over his back, following the muscles as they strained with each of his thrusts. When she reached his ass, she grabbed him with both hands and pushed him firmer against her hips. "Deeper," she moaned.

Damon adjusted his position and rose up on his knees slightly to better penetrate her.

"Damon," Elena whimpered, "more."

After another powerful thrust, Damon slipped out of her, prompting Elena to protest. But he simply stood up from the sofa and reached for her hand to pull her into a kneeling position. Turning her around and facing away from him, he pushed her upper body against the backrest cushions and knelt behind her. Using his knees to push hers further apart, he plastered his front to her back and pushed back into her hot channel.

After a few experimental thrusts, he found the perfect angle and impaled her on his rigid cock, sliding deeper than before. "Better?" he breathed into her ear before repeating the motion.

Elena tried to answer, but even as her mouth opened to reply, she found she had no air left in her lungs to do so. She could feel him so deep inside her, her eyes were rolling back in ecstasy at his every push. And then he did it again, and again, and Elena was left gasping helplessly.

Damon paused, cock buried deep within her. "Still with me?" he asked a wrecked Elena.

"Don't stop," she managed to rasp out. "Perfect. It's perfect. You're perfect," she babbled. "Keep going."

Damon picked up where he stopped and Elena's head dropped forward, her whole body shaking every time Damon touched that special spot deep within her, but everything else whiting out. God, how did he always know how to give her exactly what she wanted? She wasn't even capable of making a sound, too focused on the electric feelings running through her. She fisted the sofa cushions and let Damon's hold on her shoulder control the force of his movements.

Damon's skin burned like fire and with the working part of his brain he noticed that he was still wearing his suit, undone pants hanging low on his upper thighs but otherwise he was still completely dressed. He removed his jacket, never slowing his thrusts and threw it next to them on the sofa as he continued to pound into Elena.

They were both so distracted that neither heard that they weren't alone in the house anymore.

"Oh my god," Stefan's voice exclaimed. "Oh, sh… I'm… Oh god. Sorry."

Damon's and Elena's heads both shot to the left where Stefan was standing in the open entryway, eyes screwed tightly shut and mouth opening and closing, but not finding any words to say.

Even though all Stefan could have seen from his vantage point was their profiles, Damon quickly pulled Elena into his chest while at the same time snapping up his previously discarded jacket, covering Elena's exposed front, ridiculously grateful all of a sudden that he was still fully dressed and able to shield Elena from view.

"I'm—" Stefan stammered.

Growling at his brother, Damon hissed, "Leave."

"Right," Stefan said, clearly glad to be ordered to go away. His hand came up to cover his already closed eyes and he turned sideways as he made his retreat, peeking with one eye so as not to stumble over furniture on his way out. "Happy birthday, Elena," he called out on his way out and if Damon wasn't completely mistaken, he heard a chuckle in his voice. Damn his idiot brother and his less than stellar timing. And the things he found funny.

Elena removed the jacket Damon had thrown around her to cover her modesty and buried her face in both palms, mortified. Damon grimaced; he didn't want to think about what Stefan might or might not have caught. He rubbed her upper arms in a comforting manner then slipped his hands to her hips. Holding Elena steady, he slowly made to pull out.

"What do you think you're doing?" Elena stopped him, quickly dropping her hands and turning her upper body slightly to look at him.

"Don't you want to… I don't know… Move this upstairs maybe?" Damon replied weakly.

"I refuse to let my birthday end on such an embarrassing note," Elena gave back.

Damon held up his wrist to check the time. "Technically, it's not your birthday anymore."

"If you stop now, the best night of my life will forever be ruined by the absolutely worst and most mortifying experience of my life."

Damon reared back a little in surprise. His head tilted to the side, he looked at Elena.

"What?" she asked.

Damon shrugged one-shouldered. "Your brother caught us in the kitchen with barely a stitch on. Caroline has walked in on us in your dorm room and this house more times than I can count and on more occasions than I care to remember. Matt and Liz both caught us in my car on two separate occasions. Ric…"

"Okay, okay, okay," Elena almost yelled, "I get it. You don't have to remind me!"

"My point is, Elena. Almost all of our friends and extended family have walked in on us at one point or another. Why is this more mortifying than any of those other times?"

"It just is," Elena returned and moved a little in hopes to make Damon pick up his pace from before, but unfortunately no such luck.

"Because it was Stefan?" Damon asked, apparently insistent on talking it out right this minute.

"Damon! Seriously?" she asked. "You want to discuss this right now?"

"I don't want to discuss this at all!" he exclaimed.

"Great," Elena replied. "So move then."

But Damon remained stubborn and Elena wanted to get back to celebrating her birthday. She meant what she'd said to Damon earlier – she refused to let it end on such a low note. But she knew to pick her battles and that the only thing that would make him let go and return to previously scheduled activities would be the truth.

"I had sex with Stefan, Damon."

"I know," Damon returned, trying not to sound bitter about it.

"Let me finish!"

Damon mimicked zipping his lips.

"It was never like this between him and me. With you and me – it's… It's more than just sex. It always is. Even when it's fast and urgent and oh, god, so good – there's always a connection there that makes it… well, more."

She fell silent, staring at him and looking almost embarrassed. Damon kissed her brow in silent agreement and dawning understanding.

"I already broke his heart. I don't need to rub his nose in it, too." She sank her fingers into Damon's hair and pulled him in for a kiss. "Although, we do need to have a discussion about locking doors or something. I think I forgot how often we scarred our friends. But maybe this can be a discussion for another day. One where your dick is not still inside me. Right now, all I want is to have sex with my boyfriend to make this day perfect. My birthday wouldn't be complete without it."

"What are you talking about?" Damon exclaimed. "We had sex in the shower before you got ready."

"That was rushed and doesn't count."

"You came twice."

Elena took a deep breath. "Damon. I want you to take a step back and realize that this is twice now where I asked you to fuck me and you instead chose to debate with me!" Her voice rose an octave towards hysteria at the end.

Damon grabbed the base of his cock and pulled out despite Elena's protests.

"I meant a metaphorical step back, not a literal one," she complained as she turned around and plopped down on the sofa.

Without another word, Damon climbed behind her, wedging himself between Elena and the sofa cushions and pulled Elena into his lap, encouraging her to straddle his thighs. Kissing a line down her spine he pushed her slowly down on his still erect member. Elena sighed as she was filled again. Damon's hands snaked to her front and caressed up and down the inside of her thighs, the slow caress of his hands in total contrast with the increasingly rapid thrusts. It only took moments until Elena forgot the argument from a few minutes ago. She spread her legs as far as they would go as she kneeled above Damon to take him even deeper and he quickened the pace even more.

She keened, grateful that he could read her intentions so well. His fingertips brushed across her pulsing center and retreated again and Elena was about to grab his wrist to pull his fingers where she wanted them. But Damon snapped both her wrists in one of his hands and held them fast, pressed to her chest, while his free hand returned to tease her. Incapacitated like that, Elena surrendered to Damon completely and let him take her to the kinds of highs that only Damon knew how to reach.