Sarah Nelson sat on the hardwood floor, legs crossed and pressed to her chest, rocking herself consolingly. It had been hours or maybe each minute felt like an hour, but it had been a long damn time since that girl hung outside the window promising she'd return. She hadn't. Maybe she hallucinated the whole thing. She wouldn't put it past her abductor to drug her food. Hostages were easier to manipulate when their cognitive and motor functions were impaired.

The only thing Sarah was really gaining from this experience was learning to tell time by the sun's position. It was early evening, quickly becoming night so maybe it was around six or seven o'clock. Now that spring was here, it stopped getting dark around four-thirty.

She heard a commotion outside her door. Sarah jumped to her feet. Anything that could be used or turned into a weapon had been taken from the room, but she still had the hypodermic needle. It had taken Sarah maybe an hour to wrangle up the courage to stick herself. What if it had been heroine? Well, maybe being high might make this horrible experience more bearable, but no she needed to be aware. Then again what would be worse? Being fully conscious while horrible things were done to you, or being unconscious and having no memory? In either case she had to trust the girl hadn't given her something that was toxic and lethal. Sarah felt fine for the most part. Nothing inward or outward had drastically changed. Maybe it had been a placebo, a fake to give her comfort because…what if she was just hours away from being killed? Sarah violently shook the thought out of her head. No. That woman, Lily, she needed her alive. Yet in the back of her mind she knew how scenarios like this played out. Her story would end in one of two ways: she'd be rescued or she'd be murdered.

Sarah was hoping for the former.

Voices, they were growing louder. She crept closer to the door, straining, listening for the commands of police officers or FBI agents, or the local neighborhood watch, anyone to get her the hell out! Sarah almost wanted to start screaming so she'd be found faster, but what if it wasn't help? What if Lily had invited someone worse than her? Sarah's skin pebbled with goosebumps.

The knob turned. Sarah gasped and flew to the other side of the room, pressing her back into a literal corner. She thought about ducking beneath the desk. There weren't a lot of places to hide in this cramped and stuffy room. Trust, she had tried. Lily always knew where to find her.

The door swung open. Not in increments but in one quick motion. Sarah almost snapped her eyes closed, but kept them open. She needed to see what was coming next, who was coming next. She slipped a hand behind her back and pulled out the syringe. Her only weapon. She wondered if it were true that sticking someone with a syringe full of air killed them instantly. Well, if need be, she'd test it out.

"Sarah?"

It was the blonde girl.

"Oh thank God!" Sarah breathed in relief.

"It's okay. You're fine. I'm here to take you home."

Sarah was too relieved and angry to do more than allow Caroline to wrap a protective around her and guide her out of the room. She stared straight ahead, stoically, but that ended once they reached the living room. There were three guys, two of which were standing in front of Lily who sat dazed in a chair, while the third hovered farther away looking amused. On the sofa was a weeping brunette.

Four heads snapped in their direction. Only one pair of eyes grew round and those eyes were the bluest eyes Sarah had ever seen.

"You don't have to worry. She's never coming near you again," the blonde reassured her.

As far as Sarah was concerned, she was tired of this gotdamn town. Her parents lost their lives here. Her best friend Monique went missing here. She had ended up in the hospital under mysterious circumstances she could barely remember. This town was cursed and evil and no, she didn't think she was being dramatic or naïve. This house gave her the creeps. These people gave her the creeps. They were beautiful but they were…off. They weren't natural in some way that couldn't be explained.

Sarah backed away a few paces, "Can you take me to the train or bus station? I don't even live in this state, and sorry I don't trust you enough to show you where I live. Thanks for helping me but…"

"Sarah."

She jerked her attention to the man with black hair and blue eyes.

Damon stared. That's all he could really do for a moment. Just stare. Map every facet of Zach's progeny into memory. She had his nephew's hazel eyes, Gail's cheekbones. He crossed the room having no idea what he was about to say, questioning if he should say anything at all. He very well couldn't open up his mouth and go "Hey, I'm your uncle and also the reason you were orphaned. Sorry for giving you a fucked up start in life." Yeah, he didn't think that would go over well.

Tongue being stretched, its elasticity tested as it was tied into a knot, he shifted through one poor excuse after another to give to this beautiful young woman whose life—twice had been put in danger because of her biological tie to the Salvatore's. He gaped at her and she gaped right back. Defiant, wary, tired, and scared.

Damon wet the seam of his mouth, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the things I've done in the past that's brought you into this shit. Things I can't explain without having to take it all away afterwards. I just want you to know…I'm sorry."

It was quiet. The girl on the couch had stopped crying but hiccupped every now and a then. There weren't any nervous coughs. No one moved a muscle a part from Sarah who shifted her weight on her feet. What was she supposed to do with an apology from a total stranger? And was his apology supposed to fix or eradicate the scariest however many days of her life?

Unfortunately, being polite had been engrained in her. Sarah wrapped her arms around her middle, took a step away from Damon and Caroline.

"Thanks but I just want to get the hell out of here. I want to go home. That's all I want."

"There's just one more thing we have to take care of before you can leave," he informed.

Sarah recoiled a little. "What? I hope it involves calling the cops and having her arrested."

Damon glanced meaningfully at Klaus who easily got the message, and hauled Mama Salvatore out of the chair, marching her forward.

"Free her," Klaus commanded staring Lily right in the eye.

She turned her head as if she were on autopilot. Once Sarah looked directly at her, she did as Klaus bid. "You're free to go."

Sarah gasped a little at the sensation of whatever had kept her captive finally loosening and unraveling. She unconsciously rubbed her wrists like they had been handcuffed, because the place she really wanted to massage and soothe, she couldn't physically reach.

Damon watched as Caroline ushered his human descendant out of the house knowing this would probably be the last time he'd ever get to see her. And it would be for the best.

The front door opened and closed with a resounding boom. The curtains closed, the actors fled off the stage, and the set changed.

"Touching," Klaus commented. "Am I done here?"

"Just one more thing," Damon pivoted. "Can you tell my mother to take a nice, long nap?"

"You want her to desiccate herself?"

"Yep."

"You've grown soft, ole boy. Then again you've never been particularly hard."

"Pot meet kettle. Just do it already."

Stefan, having grown tired, stretched his arms above his head and traveled across the expansive room, clapping Klaus on the shoulder. "Thanks for the assist, mate. Call me sometime."

The hybrid gave the ripper a considering appraisal but otherwise made no comment whereas Damon rolled his eyes.

"Would you like some advice?" Klaus put his hands behind his back.

"No." Naturally that would go ignored.

"Nothing stays buried forever and vampires have long memories."

The Original left shortly after he performed his last good deed for the day, sparing Damon and the doppelganger an ironic look, but keeping whatever smart remark his brain conjured to himself.

Damon peered down at Lily slumped over on the sofa like a doll. And like a doll he'd put her in another version of a toy chest, a top of the line casket. He'd haul her to the family crypt and maybe in another hundred years he might wake her up.

With that out of the way there was just one thing left to deal with.

"I'll give you a ride back to campus," he muttered emotionlessly.

Elena shot off the couch, red-nosed, wet-cheeked, and with mussed hair. "Do you know what she did to me? Do you even care?" She saw his shoulders rise and fall in very deliberate movements.

"What do you want me to say, Elena?"

"Why didn't you tell me that you had the cure?"

He faced her. "I was going to tell you when things calmed down."

"My memories…they're back." Elena waited for his reaction, got nothing in return. "That doesn't change anything?"

Damon squinted. What exactly was she hoping he'd say? That before he'd merely been confused as to his feelings, but now that she was human and remembered him that it cancelled out what he told her about loving Bonnie? She of all people knew feelings didn't work that way.

But she did have him in something of a bind. Damon unequivocally loved Bonnie, more than he ever thought he would. That had not changed in the last hour. Yet he couldn't deny that there was a part of him that still loved Elena too. Feelings weren't wired like light switches. The only way his feelings would totally disappear would be to shut off his humanity, but even that proved faulty. What really changed was who he wanted to be with and that person was Bonnie.

Elena sidled up to him, stopping no less than inches away. She scrutinized the man she lauded as her soulmate, waiting for that spark that predictably ignited any time they were near each other. Was that heat gone? She remembered the numerous times they broke up, got back together, called things off. They always came back together. In the end.

However things were different. There was someone else in the picture that wasn't Stefan.

"I hated myself because I loved two people at the same time," she said, "and it was even worse because they were brothers. Now you're stuck between two best friends—well former best friends. Welcome to my shoes," Elena shouldered her way past Damon yet halted at the door when he said:

"Being stuck is a choice and I'm choosing not to bullshit around with my future."

Elena lifted her chin while pressing her lips together. She slammed out of the house yet Damon knew her stubbornness wouldn't let sleeping dogs lie.

"It seems no matter what, stories begin and end with this," Bonnie nodded toward the blood bag. "Doesn't it?"

Alaric palmed the warm bag, jaw tensing. He hadn't been a vampire in months, but remnants of that time lingered. He could look at blood and not get a single itch to drink it, even grimace a little at the sight of too much of it, yet Bonnie was right. A lot of their problems had boiled down to blood. Blood that cried for retribution. Blood that reanimated. Blood that bound and blood that broke.

If what Bonnie shared with him was true, blood had adopted a new use. "Considering who's in our inner circle it makes sense this would be the highest currency and commodity. You know we shouldn't advertise this."

"I know. I don't want it to get out either. Not for a while, but thinking it can stay quiet forever would be dumb." Bonnie helped herself to the cup of juice and plate of cookies Alaric had wrangled up knowing both would be necessary after drawing her blood.

"You're gonna tell Damon, right?"

"I have to. For his own safety." At Alaric's peculiar look it dawned on Bonnie he was out of the relationship loop. As far as he knew, Damon and Elena were still together.

"For his own safety? Surely the two of you have gotten beyond the Tom and Jerry stage of your relationship?"

"These days we're more like season six Buffy and Spike."

Alaric stared blankly but made the conjecture. "Oh. Wow. So he and Elena…?"

"Are no longer together. I need to get home. It's been a really long day," she got to her feet, finished off the juice and dumped the cup on the table. "Has Jo gotten in touch with her coven leaders?"

"She has," Alaric answered a bit absently, his mind still breaking down the equation of when Elena obsessed Damon broke things off with her and hopped into a relationship with Bonnie.

"Then I guess the next time we'll see each other is when it's time to get down to business. See you later, Rick."

Bonnie drove home, checking her mirrors every so often. She did notice there was a person on a motorcycle tailing her although keeping their distance. When she made the turn off for her street, eyes glued to the rearview mirror, the rider drove straight by. Her intuition stirred her gut. She uttered several protection spells until she parked in the driveway.

Grabbing her purse, Bonnie's gaze darted around as she let herself into her home.

All the lights were on. Brow furrowing, Bonnie kicked off her shoes, heard thumping from upstairs. She made her way to the master bedroom where Damon was throwing clothes—her clothes—into one of two open suitcases.

"What are you doing?"

"Packing."

"I can see that. My question is why?"

Damon quickly and meticulously folded a shirt, "You're moving into the boardinghouse. I don't like you living all the way out here in the boonies alone. If something happens…it'll be too late for anyone to know and to do anything about it."

Bonnie sauntered to the bed and plopped down. "I'm not moving into the boardinghouse."

"Yeah, you are."

"No. I'm. Not."

Damon almost ripped the pair of jeans he just picked up in half out of irritation. He scowled at Bonnie who glared right back.

"Why is this so urgent and important?"

"I gave you my reasons."

Bonnie stared at him shrewdly. "What happened at the boardinghouse?"

"No one died for a change," Damon quipped. He told Bonnie what went down keeping the story relative to his niece being freed from Lily's compulsion and his mother now residing in the family crypt. He'd reserve Elena being forced to take the cure for a later conversation.

"Your mother is out of the way for the foreseeable future so there's no reason why we need to resume living together," Bonnie toed off her shoes. "I mean, moving in together should be a joint decision, not a unilateral one. On top of that, we've barely been a couple for an entire week! Don't you think that's moving too fast?"

"We've lived together for four months. So excuse me for not seeing what the big deal is," Damon argued peevishly.

"That was a totally different situation and you know it. We barely tolerated each other and only had one another for company. It made sense to live together and yeah, we got closer as a result. If you haven't noticed we're not in the prison world anymore, and we're definitely not the same Damon and Bonnie from a year ago either."

"All I'm hearing is that you don't want to live with me."

"And all I'm seeing is someone trying to run my life yet again without consulting me."

Upon hearing that the scowl vanished and in its place was contrition. Damon dropped the jeans he had been fidgeting with before grasping the nape of his neck. In his way of thinking, if Bonnie lived with him he wouldn't do anything stupid. He knew it was one of his tells. Wanting to have everything at once, in one fell swoop, because if he couldn't have it at once then it would disappear. What happened at Klaus' served as a rude awakening as to what he could and couldn't bring to the table. Bonnie was too big for him, but that didn't mean Damon didn't want her to need him.

Her warm hands sliding across his shoulders snapped Damon out of his reverie.

"You know that kiss with Klaus didn't mean anything." She said as if she plucked his precise thought straight out of his head.

"I know," he replied gruffly.

"And the other thing that was brought up tonight..."

"Forget about it. I was in my feelings."

"You're still in your feelings," Bonnie rubbed his ears and finally felt some of the tension leave Damon.

"It's always been kind of our thing, you know?" At Bonnie's perplexed mien, Damon elaborated. "We're Team Get Shit Done. I guess I just got use to you turning to me, even if you did so reluctantly. I don't want us to lose that."

"I don't want us to lose that either now that I actually like you," she beamed. Damon returned her smile and squeezed her hips. "Everything has changed but nothing's really changed with us. You're still the one I trust more than anyone. I know you'll have my back."

"Is that enough though?"

Bonnie laced her fingers together behind Damon's neck. "Is it enough? Have I given you any reason that it wasn't?"

"Not intentionally. But I understand there're things I don't know and can't help you with that someone else can."

"And that doesn't reduce what you mean to me. Is what we have enough for you?"

Damon didn't have to think long about that. "Yeah, it's more than enough but I also want you," the hue of his irises darkened and the mood changed. He tucked his face in the crook of her neck. "Do you know how hard it was to keep my hands off of you when you'd walk around in your daisy dukes and those lacy tops where you took 'free the nipple' literally?"

Bonnie's laugh was a little coquettish, a little reserved, a little nervous. Their bodies swayed, hands roamed whatever they could touch.

"We don't have to wait," she whispered.

"And you don't have to take the next step if you're not ready. Although I really fuckin' hope you're ready."

A pulse, a beat lapsed and the silence nearly killed Damon until he heard:

"I am. I'm done denying myself what I want. I want you," Bonnie's hand tunneled beneath his shirt, curled inward to tug on his belt. "I want this body."

Damon licked his lips as his pants became increasingly tighter. "You have been a bad girl tonight."

"You have nooo idea."

Pressing their foreheads together, gazes locking, they came to the silent agreement to cement their commitment to one another.

"First I need a shower." Bonnie disappeared in the bathroom.

Damon went off to do his own primping and to get the room ready, wiggling his hips to the music playing in his head. He shut off Bonnie's cell phone. Locked the door and flipped off the lights downstairs. In a minute the bed had been cleared of her personal effects, the windows thrown open and the air conditioner tuned to as low as it could go to offset the heat that was surely to be created with the two of them rolling around on the sheets. Damon decided against lighting a few candles, filled a bowl with ice and grabbed a bottle of bourbon.

He turned on "Back to Black" by Amy Winehouse, peeled off his shirt, shoes, and socks but left his black jeans on. His head snapped toward the opening bathroom door.

Bonnie emerged topless, hair down around her shoulders dressed in the shoes she wore to the masquerade ball and a black lace Brazilian thong with soutache embroidery.

"Woooooow," Damon was mesmerized. He couldn't help but roam her body from head to toe appreciatively, pausing longer than necessary to ogle her breasts. Unbeknownst to him he approached with deliberate slowness.

The look in his eye should have sent Bonnie scurrying for cover. What it did was make her saunter deeper into the room, hips swaying from side to side putting out the message she didn't come to play.

The minute Bonnie was near Damon ran his knuckles along her cheek. He gathered her close, crushing her freshly showered body against his. He dripped his head to sample a taste of her warm, aromatic neck and the upper hills of her breasts.

Moaning, Bonnie's head fell back granting Damon more access to touch and explore that led to full body shivers and her kitten to get moist. It never took a lot of work to bring her to the brink of losing total control, and sometimes Bonnie could hate that about herself. She couldn't deny it came in handy when she needed to get off and only had five minutes to do so.

Her body had gone taut with sensitivity. Bonnie yearned to be reminded of what it felt like to be filled, stuffed but more than that, to come. Orgasming with a partner had been difficult. Coming on her own was easy but often left her feeling dissatisfied and empty. She'd heard the stories about Damon's prowess. On more than one occasion she had seen his dick print. As a result she wondered about its actual size, if it curved left or right or pointed right at you, its taste. On certain days when her 'need to make a baby' hormones were firing, her ruminations went a little farther, and she was curious how it would feel inside her and on her tongue.

Bonnie was about to find out.

They kissed and born out of that kiss was a new kind of urgency. Damon's goal was to shatter, eviscerate all memory of those before him: Hayden, Jeremy, Jamie, anyone else he didn't know about, and the one tonight, Klaus. Yet he would have something different with Bonnie that she hadn't shared with anyone.

He brushed her hair out of the way to whisper in her ear, "Show me how you get off."

Bewildered, Bonnie eased back, "What?"

"You heard me. I want to see you touch yourself."

"Damon…I don't know if I can. I don't know if I can with you watching me."

"You preferred to do it in the shower, right? I want to see what you like."

Bonnie couldn't stop blushing if you paid her. She had taken care of her needs specifically in the shower so she wouldn't be overheard. The fact Damon had anyways was slightly mortifying, but how did he hear unless he had his ear pressed against the door.

"There's no masking that scent, doll face. Didn't take a genius to figure out what you were up to."

"Yeah but that doesn't mean I need that fact thrown up in my face."

"We're about to be as intimate as two people can get. Knowing you like to touch yourself is making my mouth among something else water."

"I'm not into exhibitionism."

"Exhibitionism entails exposing yourself to strangers. It's just you and me. Will wearing this make things easier?" Damon presented a blindfold. Where he got it from she'd question later.

Bonnie looked at the blindfold then at Damon. She flexed her fingers. Self-pleasure was a private matter. The idea of being watched by Damon…her nipples beaded. With the slight nod of her head, Bonnie gave her consent to have her vision restricted.

He placed her back to his front and covered her eyes with the blindfold. Damon circled her and took in the picture she made. His dick was certainly excited by what he was seeing.

She was led over to the bed by the hand that Damon dropped a kiss on, and in the next second was bent over, face pressed into the mattress, ass jutting high in the air. Her breath shook and disappeared at the feeling of kisses trailing down her spine. Damon paused to plant two smacking open-mouth kisses and bites to the fleshy mounds of her ass. Seeing Bonnie with that blindfold on, the sinewy muscles in her back…it took everything in him not to take her right now.

"Turn over," he directed huskily.

As she did so, positioning herself, Damon pulled up a comfortable chair, unfastened his jeans and pushed them down far enough to free himself. His dick popped out, hard, angry with veins. He sat down and waited for the show.

Bonnie scooted back, disbelieving she was about to do this, touch herself where she preferred another pair of hands to do so. Fingers frozen with stage fright Bonnie couldn't make up her mind on what to do first. Her nips were desperate for attention, as hard as they were but so were other parts of her. Shyness began to siphon her desire. The idea of being watched was unnerving but had her growing wetter and hornier.

"If only you could see what I'm doing to myself right now, Bon."

Her ears perked up. The tension was unmistakable in Damon's voice.

"If you could see how fucking hot you look right now. Those perky tits and nipples rising and falling every time you breathe, that dark middle that I know needs a good tonguing you're trying to hide with your knees drawn together. Your feet in those heels," he groaned and stoked his shaft. "You're the total package. Unwrap it for me."

Bonnie emboldened by his words stopped straddling the fence. It was now or never do or die. A puff of air released between her lips at the feather-like touch she applied to her stomach. Her abdominal wall clenched, which mimicked what those deep inner and, by now, well-lubricated muscles were doing. Her pussy wanted cock but her hands would have to suffice.

She brushed the tips of her fingers an inch above her pantyline, went down a bit farther, and smoothed her open palm across her mons. Lightning manifested right there and struck as she teased her clit through her soaked panties. Her touch may have appeared experimental but this was the way she liked it. Slow, delicate, the bare hint of pressure on the right spot. She licked her top lip followed by the bottom before digging her teeth in the corner of her moistened lip. Her other hand, well that kneaded her breast.

Damon's dick jumped. Bobbed and oozed one bead at a time dewy precum. He was right there with her, giving his undivided attention to Bonnie. She hadn't gone straight for the prize by making skin-to-skin contact which he liked. She teased and fondled herself, encouraging her body to become one massive pool of arousal. The scent of it imbued the air that was also turning balmy.

Damon's pupils dilated when feminine brown fingers slipped inside that lacy barrier. The erotic sight of seeing Bonnie play but not getting the full unrestricted picture had him once again wrapping a hand around his erection and pumping. She was into it now seemingly forgetting he was in the room. Her rubbing became more vigorous, sighs and moans louder and deeper. Her stomach quivered, knees fell apart exposing everything. The temperature climbed and both witch and vampire was covered in a film of sweat. The ice cubes had all melted, the bourbon in the bottle was bubbling. The sound of Bonnie's fingers manipulating that flap of distended flesh had Damon gripping the arm rest of the chair that he was ready to catapult out of.

Not yet.

"Are you close? I know that pussy's dripping."

Bonnie couldn't really answer. She was a guitar string about to snap from over tuning.

"Are you close?" Damon asked again, tone suggesting he wasn't in the mood for lies.

"Y-yes."

"Stop."

"What?"

"Stop."

"But I'm about to…"

"I know. Stop."

Bonnie blinked in confusion behind the blindfold. Her fingers stopped despite the fluttering in her core. She didn't hold back her groan of frustration.

"Have you ever fingered yourself?"

Saliva went down the wrong pipe but she didn't start coughing. "I…no."

"I want you to taste yourself, Bonnie."

Her embarrassment was becoming a problem again. "Damon."

"I want you to tell me how good you taste before I find out for myself."

As keyed up as she was he was pressing buttons Bonnie had had no idea existed until tonight. She needed to come yet could she do what Damon commanded? She had never done anything like that before. You had never stopped a heart until you did it, never dropped a veil to another realm until you did it. You can do this too, she mused.

Bonnie slipped her panties off.

Her ribs expanded, oxygen became scarce, and her heart thumped wildly. Scorching heat and wet muscles entombed her uncertain fingers. But it took no time at all for Bonnie to discover what worked for her, what made her forget to take a breath, and what made her toes curl.

"How does it feel?" Damon's chest was getting a workout doing everything he could to consume air he didn't really need.

"Tight…hot."

"Taste yourself."

She did. Those two notorious fingers slid into her mouth but only for a moment before she was back at it again.

Damon couldn't believe his eyes despite setting this whole scene in motion. When Bonnie's hips started bucking he couldn't take anymore. He had to be inside of her, had to evict her fingers and become the new tenant. Kicking his jeans completely off, he rose to his feet, a hulking mass of preternatural brawn and virility.

He prowled the short distance from the chair to the bed and loomed, staring down hotly at the writhing temptress. Damon joined her on the bed, breathing encouraging words in her ear that he'd like to think had Bonnie trembling, but that honor belonged to her pistoning fingers. She was barreling towards a long needed release.

The witch's hips arched off the bed, back taking on the shape of a bow. Her loud shouting cries were a melody sweeter than falling snow and went on for a full minute. Old Norse, Latin, and English spewed from her lips. Bonnie had never gotten herself off that hard. She tingled from head to toe and twitched sporadically. Body loose and liquid she panted, recovering from coming.

Smiling lovingly, Damon gently pulled her hand away, arranged it just so and slid her slick fingers into his mouth. "Mmm, mmm, mmm. Delicious but I need a little more."

Bonnie's legs were pushed up, knees touching her chest. She cursed the four corners of the earth at the feel of Damon's mouth on her, tongue mining for buried treasure. What was currently happening to Bonnie she wasn't a novice to, but oral never felt this mind-numbingly incredible.

Her fingers volleyed between clutching the sheets to grabbing fistfuls of Damon's hair before settling with gripping the back of her thighs. Every flick ushered her to the precipice, every suck sent her hurtling forward, every humming vibration threatened the coming of an internal earthquake. She was putty, being formed, reformed, pulled apart, and mended together. The blood pumped in her body at such a dizzying speed Bonnie was positive her heart would rip apart by the strain.

On the other side of the world where sunlight dominated the sky, a discernible thing happened. A flare of brilliant amber light flashed drawing attention to the sky.

Bonnie came on a gushing wave that was plugged with nine inches of erect cock.

"Fuck," Damon and Bonnie hissed simultaneously.

He didn't move not because she was clenched so tightly around him that he went cross-eyed, or waited for her inner contractions to settle down, but so he could take the blindfold off. So they could be truly an unequivocally connected. Mind. Body. Soul.

Her lids fluttered open. A burnt-orange sunset stared languidly at Damon. He dipped his head for a taste of her mouth and so she could get another hit of herself.

Bonnie lifted her knees, crossed her ankles across Damon's back, breathing evenly as her body adjusted to the intrusion.

"You okay?" he whispered.

It was a little painful being stretched so wide and deep but she nodded and undulated against him. Pulsing sensation went through them both.

Damon gathered her hands and wrenched them above her head, and planted a kiss so deep and thorough on Bonnie she didn't know up from down. Their tongues were magnets, their lips sucked and heads bobbed. The vampire rolled to his back and broke the seal of their lips. Hands on her hips, he rose Bonnie a little and brought her down.

"Uhn," Damon grunted. "Fuck me, Bonnie and don't stop until I beg to cum."

So she did.

Hair a mess, completely unsalvageable without the use of a flat iron and a comb, Bonnie lied boneless against the stack of pillows on the rumbled bed. She hummed a little melody that broke off into a burgeoning smile once Damon reentered the bedroom carrying a frosted glass of water and a plate of pancakes.

"Thank you," Bonnie sat up and accepted the glass of water. She drank about half before offering Damon the rest.

She smiled at his post coitus visage. Ruddy cheeked, hair flying in every which direction. Bonnie lingered on the tiny but noticeable drops of dried blood on Damon's shoulders, biceps, chest, and the top of his ass. Guess she got a bit carried away. Her nails had used him for leverage. The sex was fucking amazing but also nerve-wrecking for Bonnie because, as much as she enjoyed it, the whole time she had to be consciously aware of not burning Damon to a crisp. She singed him a few times, but he made no complaint. He barely even noticed since his attention had been on driving in and out of her.

And she certainly felt that pounding, though to be fair, they finally came up for air about half an hour ago. Exhaustively ravished, Bonnie had no idea how she'd be able to walk in the next twenty-four hours.

Damon wedged behind her. Bonnie had no problem using him as a pillow.

"What time is it?" she drank her water and devoured three bites of pancake in quick succession.

"A little after four."

"Really?"

"I think we can go again, get one more in before sunrise," Damon leered.

"Ummm, let's circle back to a little later."

The eldest Salvatore pouted playfully but kissed the crown of Bonnie's head. Contentment flushed through him and he just wanted to soak in it. "Everything is amazing."

"It is," Bonnie concurred wistfully. "Who would have ever thought you and I would be here?"

"I certainly didn't see that one coming but I'm glad it happened."

"Me too."

"Good," Damon kissed her temple, "because I hope you know you can't get rid of me now. We've imprinted and it's official."

Bonnie smothered a yawn, snuggled deeper into Damon's chest, and fed him a piece of syrup saturated pancake.

One more thing needs to happen before I have everything I want, Bonnie thought with a grin on her face.

A/N: As always thank you for reading. Reviews are love just like the love I put into keeping these fics going. Thank you again!