This can be read as a stand alone but if you want to see how DE met and fell in love, you'll want to read 'Painted On My Heart' posted last year on this date.
Happy Birthday Aisha! You are a genuinely awesome and utterly beautiful person both on the inside and out, a true gem. It's my honor to call you a friend.
On holiday in Santorini, Greece, Elena and Damon lean over the yacht railing, his arm slung lazily over her shoulder while catching a breathtaking view of the caldera. It's a brilliant turquoise pool of water that serves as the nucleus for the varied isles of this archipelago.
A massive volcanic eruption around 1650 B.C. forced the center of what was then a single island to implode and succumb to the sea. Some say that this was the original home of the lost city of Atlantis, which long ago disappeared into the ocean's depths. Whatever remains of this mythological metropolis is now guarded by beautiful beaches and stately whitewashed homes. Today, Santorini consists of two inhabited islands and several islets.
The sea here is nothing like the murky green-blue waves of the English coast. The Mediterranean waters are so clear that they can see the sea bed below. Elena points at the starfish, watching as the crabs scuttle and the shoals of fish dart all around.
"Are we ready?" Damon winks at her from above then climbs down the ladder and plunges into the water.
Elena slips on her face mask and snorkel then looks up at Matt, Vincent and Marcel too before dropping in and kicking her flippered feet so that she swims parallel to the beach. She could stay like this for hours observing the sea life around her, breathing steadily through the plastic tube. Through her mask, she watches the abundance of sea flora and fauna circling and skittering around her.
Damon comes up from behind, tugs on her leg then swims up beside her. She tries swatting him for scaring her, it's all but impossible under the water. He leads her to hidden inlet then pulls her into his arms and kisses her fiercely, moaning at the feel of her soft skin under his fingertips. With their mouths still attached, he reaches up and unties the string around her neck.
As the bikini top falls, she feels the ocean breeze on her bare breasts. Her nipples harden in response. Damon's eyes darken as he brushes his thumbs across the taut peaks. Her body jerks in response, thrusting against him. His hard length rubs against her, making her need for him begin to burn white hot.
He dips his head and captures one of her nipples in his hot mouth, swirling his tongue around it, before turning his attention to her other breast. Her head falls back as he feasts on her. One hand continues to stroke her breast as the other moves down to cup her sex, caressing her through her bikini bottoms. He moves the material aside, so he can touch her better. He gently plays with her, caressing and stroking softly at first, then faster and firmer, sliding his finger inside of her. She stops moving altogether, drawing in short shallow breaths as the sensations in her body build, her heart beats uncontrollably as she closes her eyes and waits for the release that's so - so close.
"Oh God, Damon," she cries out, her hips jerking spasmodically as her orgasm crashes over her. He covers her mouth with his, kissing her deeply. She can barely breathe when he wrenches his away from hers.
"I need to be inside you, Elena."
"Yes," she clings to him, feeling completely and utterly liquefied after that orgasm. Her husband never fails to elicit burning desire and hunger in her, she's certain she'll never get used to it, she's not really sure she wants to.
Damon helps her tie her bikini string making her wonder for a moment what he's up to. Taking her hand, they swim back to the yacht, she watches him pull himself out of the water with little effort. Sitting on the ledge, he holds his hand out to her. She swims over and takes it, letting him pull her out too.
He stops for a moment to give her a particularly bone melting kiss, before he stands, picks up a discarded towel on a pool chair and slings it over her shoulders, attempting to dry her a little before he picks up a second one and wraps it around himself. They hurry to their stateroom, her body still hot and aroused from his touch, her insides aching fiercely for him. They barely make more than a few feet at a time without him grabbing her and kissing her.
"Should we shower first?"
"Can't wait," he tells her, the undisguised raw need in his voice sends a fresh wave of pure lust slamming through her.
She lets her towel drop to the floor, and watches as his eyes rakes over her, heating every inch of her bare flesh. With her tongue poking out seductively, she unties her bikini top, unhooks in the back and lets it drop to the floor. She then slides down her bikini bottoms and steps out of them. Now she's naked and more than ready for her husband.
"I can't wait either."
Then his hands are on her and his mouth is possessive and hungry, and all she can do is feel; feel how much she wants this, how much she wants him. She puts her mouth to his shoulder, brushing a kiss there, before letting herself taste his flesh, loving the way he says her name so roughly. She strokes his upper body with her hands, before flicking her tongue over one of his nipples and blowing on it. He rewards her with a quick intake of breath.
Elena hadn't even been aware that Damon's been moving them towards the bed until she feels the mattress behind her knees. She falls backwards with Damon following her onto the bed. He kisses her deep and hard on the mouth before he licks and nips his way down her body. She trembles, when he licks around her navel, and can't stop the small moan that escapes as his mouth moves even lower until he's between her legs giving her a far more intimate kiss.
She tries not to twist and buck, as his tongue works her up to another climax. She looks down her body to see him staring at her as he does exquisite things with his tongue. She comes harder this time, and when he re-emerges, he crawls up her body and kisses her fiercely, allowing her to taste herself. Wrapping her arms around him, she lowers her hands to run them over his firm ass, relieved that somewhere along the way, he'd shed his own shorts.
He gives her another hot lingering kiss before positioning himself between her legs. No matter how much many times they done this now, every time is new and wonderful. She's never prepared for the swift flood of emotion that lodges in her throat as he thrusts into her, joining them so completely. The way he moves inside of her makes her feel everything so acutely.
Her man is a gem- rough on the outside but once it's polished a bit, he shines.
The coil inside her body begins to tight as her walls start to squeeze and ripple around him. They come together with his next powerful thrust and he cries out her name. The feeling is so shattering that Elena's surprised to find herself still in one piece at the end of it.
Several minutes pass before he withdraws. Goosebumps erupt on her flesh and she curls up. Noticing her shiver, he tucks her in against him and pulls a blanket over them. Neither Damon's body heat, nor the blanket, however, can shut-out the chill she's experiencing. Sex with her husband has always been mind-blowing - she hopes it's always so.
"Ladies and Gentleman, welcome. Today we're here to dedicate Elena's Playground. Joining us is Prince Damon along with Lady Caroline Forbes-Mikaelson. Would you like to say a few words, Your Highness?" Mr. Gerard beckons them to the podium.
Damon urges Caroline to stand beside him, steps to the ribbon and looks around at the crowd. "Hello everyone. Thank you for coming. My wife will be none too pleased with me if I don't convey her apologies for not being here. She has a touch of the flu otherwise wild horses couldn't have kept her away," Damon smirks at the people gathered.
"We're here today to dedicate this playground. New things need to be recognized and appreciated – that's what we do with a dedication. To dedicate means to set something aside for a particular purpose," Damon nods for Caroline to step to the microphone and continue.
"What is the purpose of this playground? PLAY! And joy! We are blessing this space, wishing for all the good things we can for its future, praying that delight and joy will always fill it." she smiles at her best friend allowing him to once again take over.
"We dedicate this space to the children here and to all those in the future who will use the playground. My wife hopes this is only the first of many. She has a dream to build them all over, to give young children a place to be just that - children. A place they can be safe and have fun. Caroline," he motions for her to join him when Mr. Gerard hands him a large ceremonial scissors. Together they open it up enveloping the ribbon between the two sides.
"I now declare Elena's Playground open for business," they cut the ribbon to the sounds of thunderous applause. Children and their parents enter, hurrying down the path to the many swing sets, sand boxes, teeter totters and a host of other equipment suitable for both the young and not so young.
Damon takes Caroline's arm, linking it with his and together they walk through themselves to chat with the throngs of people that came out today.
Walking into the dining room the next morning, Damon pours himself a cup of coffee and when he turns, he sees his mother staring at him, her legs crossed with the top one swinging back and forth. He wonders what has her so animated.
"You're so obvious when you're upset. Please tell me what I did this time," he breathes in the vibrant aroma, penetrating deep into his nose and then he takes a long swallow.
"You didn't do anything, it's your son again!" she pours a teaspoon full of sugar into her tea cup.
"What has he done now?" Damon looks at her aghast.
"He's his father's son, that's enough," she huffs.
"Well yeah," Damon waggles his brows, teasing her.
"Yesterday at the beach, he got away from Alaric and kicked over a little girl's sand castle," she glowers as she takes a sip of her tea.
"Can we go back to Greece?" he pouts dramatically when Elena appears next to him.
"Say the word," she winks at him as he pulls her chair out for her to sit.
"Did you tell her?" Damon shoots a look at his mom while stuffing some eggs into his mouth.
"No, I didn't see Elena yesterday."
"Is something wrong?"
"It seems our son is a normal little boy."
"Damon, there is no place for normalcy amongst royalty," the Queen retorts.
"What did he...?"
"Mommy," four year old Prince Oliver screams as he runs into the dining room.
"Well good morning," Elena pulls him onto her lap. "Did you sleep good?"
The little moppet bobs his head. "Hi daddy, hi Grandma."
"Hey chief, Grandma says you were naughty with Alaric."
"I'm not naughty," he scowls at his daddy.
"Did you knock over a sandcastle?"
"She wouldn't let me help," he crosses his arms over his little chest defiantly.
"Well you see grandma, she wouldn't let him play too?" Damon fights the urge to laugh at his mom's expression.
"Some day your son will be king. He needs to learn manners and you need to teach him," she arches an eyebrow at the little boy.
"Just like you taught me?" he winks at his mom.
Glancing at her watch, she stands up. "I have an official duty that requires my attendance. But you see this grey hair?" she tugs on a loose strand. "It's all from you," she snaps and walks away, letting the dining hall door swing shut behind her.
The Queen looks over the food table as she waits for her guests. There's a punch bowl, tea cakes, petit fours, among other delicacies. Dipping the ladle in, she pours some in a tea cup to taste. "Mmm," she mumbles to herself.
"This is exceptional Amara," she hands her the cup to get it out of the way. A short time later her guests arrive. "Hello Liz, it's so good to see you. You must thank Caroline for helping Damon out at the playground dedication."
"She was glad to do it. You know Damon's like a brother to her."
"Before Elena, I was really hoping the two of them would...," the Queen mentions to her friend.
"I can't deny I would have liked that too but I think it's wonderful that they're such good friends to this day."
"You know what?" Lilly whispers in her ear. "I am too. Damon's deliriously happy with Princess Elena and Caroline's happy with Lord Mikaelson."
"Yes, he treats her like a queen," Liz smiles at her friend.
The two women chat a little longer then the Queen moves to greet the rest of her guests. Once they've all arrived and are seated, she begins talking about fundraisers for a couple of her charities. An hour later, she invites them to have some refreshments. She steps to the table near the punch bowl watching as Amara fills each tea cup when the women pass by her. Suddenly there's a commotion, the sound of little footsteps and a dog barking.
Oliver is screaming happily while chasing after Chopper in and among the tables, pulling one of the cloths to the floor, shattering the dishes into tiny shards as soon as they hit the tiled floor.
"Oliver, you stop that," the Queen is aghast at her grandson's behavior.
"I gotta catch him grandma, he's got my ball," the little boy continues to run after the dog, when he gets close to her, he darts under the table to evade her arms. Chopper in the meantime circles around and makes a mad run for the Queen whose eyes grow huge as the animal gets ready to leap, somehow she manages to step back but the dog lands on the table. Immediately the food and punch bowl go flying. When all is said and done, his grandmother is soaked in red punch as if she had gotten caught in a deluge.
Oliver's eyes widen to the size of saucers. He grabs Chopper's leash then runs out of the room with the Queen's voice booming behind him. As soon as he reaches their living quarters, he runs inside, slamming the door shut behind him. After locking it, he unleashes the dog and then hurries to his room and dives under the bed.
Furious, the Queen summons help to clean up the mess and see her guests out. Still drenched with her hair sticking to her forehead, she reaches up to brush some out of her eyes when it crunches under her fingers due to the sugar in the punch.
This incident is a breaking point. At this moment, she's blinded by a five-course serving of rage that tastes bitter, yet surprisingly satisfying. Exhaling sharply, she marches up the stairs directly to her son's quarters and pounds on the door.
Moments later, Damon appears, tying his robe as he opens it. "Mother!?" His brain stutters for a moment and his eyes rake over the woman's disheveled appearance. His mother is always the picture of decorum. The lady in front of him looks like a drowned bilge rat - a red one.
"What happened to you?" Damon steps back and lets her inside.
"Your son is what happened. I want to see him now," her hands fist at her sides.
Damon's never in his entire life seen her this angry. "Oliver did this?" he turns suddenly when he hears his wife's voice.
"Your Majesty," Elena's just as shocked by her appearance.
"Where is your son? I demand to see him right now," she fumes, her eyes shooting daggers at both of them.
"I'll see if he's in his room," Elena shares a look with Damon then walks away.
Chopper runs into the room and starts to rub against Damon's legs. Looking up, he notices his mother's face getting redder by the second and she's shaking her fist at him. The dog whimpers and makes his escape too.
"I don't want to see her, I'm scared," Oliver's tense voice comes over his shoulder. He turns around to see Elena practically dragging him into the living room.
"You need to tell us why Grandma is so mad at you," Damon picks him up. Despite his kicking and fighting, he manages to hold onto him. While he struggles, Elena comes beside him, her own eyes darting between her son and her mother in law.
The queen is standing rigid as a board, her hands on her hips, her face incredulous and her stare unblinking.
Blood drains from Oliver's face when he looks up at her.
"Tell them what you did," she somehow manages to keep her voice even despite her rage.
"I was just playing with Chopper, it wasn't my fault," he looks at his mommy with his big blue eyes and trembling chin.
"Mom," Damon raises his hand although he knows better than to try and placate her. "Tell us what happened."
"He and that dog ran into the Rose Room, and I've never been so embarrassed or angry in my life. They shattered china and sent my guests scrambling. And the pièce de résistance - you ask? That animal leapt and landed on the refreshment table, soaking me with fruit punch. Then your little scoundrel," her glare at the little boy is enough to level a city, "ran to hide."
"Oliver!?" Elena exclaims, her mouth dropping open.
"I didn't mean to," he starts to tear up.
"Tell Grandma you're sorry," Damon eyes him firmly.
"I'm sorry," his lower lips sticks out prominently.
She blows out a frustrated breath and finally relaxes her posture. "You need to teach your son some manners, perhaps get him a tutor to keep him a tight leash until he does? We have a State Dinner next month and if he can't behave himself, he will not be permitted to attend. Your father will back me up," she shakes her finger at her son, collects herself then leaves their quarters with a hard slam of their door.
"He and Chopper are asleep," Elena mentions walking into the living room. As soon as she's comfortably seated, Damon hands her and Caroline a wine flute before pouring a glass of bourbon for himself and Niklaus.
"You should have seen her, Care," Damon laughs, "her hair was stuck to her head, punch trails were on her face and her dress! She'll murder me if she finds out I'm laughing at her."
"She will," Caroline agrees and takes a swallow of her wine.
"We have to do something Damon or she'll kick us out of the castle," Elena sighs, raking a hand through her hair. "She wants the dog to take some obedience training too - telling me we should've gotten one from a reputable breeder rather than the pound."
"Chopper's a good dog. There's nothing better than rescue animals."
"I agree with that actually," Niklaus interjects. "I have four pure bred Afghan Hounds and I love them but my Bobby, a mutt if you will is my buddy."
"That's the way it goes," Damon blows out a breath.
"Have you looked for anyone yet?" Caroline asks, her eyes drifting to the ocean through the big picture window overlooking Damon and Elena's seaside retreat.
Damon suddenly sits upright. "I have an idea."
"Well speak up," Elena looks at him searchingly.
"Sheila Bennett, she was my teacher growing up. She'd be perfect if she hasn't retired."
"Why am I not surprised you were a little troublemaker at that age too?"
"Ha ha," Damon deadpans.
"When we get back to the city, you can give her a call," Elena snuggles in next to him, smiling when he palms her still flat tummy.
With a plan forming in his head, he sets his drink down and turns on the TV. Together the four of them watch 'The Fugitive' before turning in for the night.
"It's so good to see you Sheila," Damon brushes off royal decorum and gives her a hug.
"Prince Damon, it would appear you turned out okay after all," the woman teases.
"I remember the last time I saw you... I cried because I knew I would miss you. It was a breezy day, I let your voice soak in, your parting words that I'd find my way someday."
"I told you so," she chuckles.
"You certainly did. I gave my mother a run for her money until I met Elena. Of course, she hasn't completely tamed me but I let her think so," he whispers conspiratorially.
"Ahem," comes from behind causing Damon to step back but not before winking at his old friend.
"Elena, this is my dear friend and former taskmaster, Sheila Bennett and this young man," Damon gestures with his head when he catches his son peaking out from behind the door. "Come here, Oliver. This is my son."
"It's a pleasure, Princess Elena," Sheila shakes her hand before running her eyes over Oliver, noticing his mop of dark hair. "He certainly bears a strong resemblance to you at this age," she shifts her attention to Prince Damon.
"Say hello to Miss Sheila," Elena nudges him forward.
"Hi," the little boy clings to his mother's leg.
"Prince Oliver," she stoops so she's at his eye level. "Your mommy and daddy asked me to help you learn some rules. We can play nice or we can play the other way, it's your choice to make."
"Daddy?" his eyes dart to Damon's then back to Sheila's.
Damon remembers hearing those very same words himself once. "Sheila will either be your best friend or...," he lets the words hang in the air.
"I'm scared," he backs away from her.
"You don't have to be scared, little Prince, we're going to get along just fine. How about you introduce me to your dog?"
"Can I mommy?" his little eyes are wide and his mouth is open.
"Absolutely," Elena agrees and leans into her husband's arms as their son takes Mrs. Bennett's hand and drags her out of the room.
"I think she's going to work out just fine," Elena smiles at her husband then leans forward to steal a kiss.
Sheila has her arms crossed over the hardwood fence as she watches young Oliver with Vincent the stable master. They had a long session in the Queen's office this morning going through some photo albums and introducing her young charge to his ancestors. As a reward for his good behavior, they came outside to see the horses.
The weather is the kind that feels like a kiss of summer without the fiery heat of noon time in August. The grass is a soft green that almost has a hint of blue and in the sky are enough pristine white clouds to show off how beautiful the sky is, how perfect. She focuses on the sounds and smells. Like the large shed made of weathered oak planks with a sloping corrugated iron roof that makes even the average rainstorm sound like a hail of bullets. There's the damp smell of ammonia and she wrinkles her nose.
Then she walks closer as Vincent lifts Oliver onto the horse and climbs on behind him. The little boy squeals excitedly when the beautiful creature starts to trot around fenced in pasture, his lustrous mane blowing in the summer wind.
"You have 20 minutes then we have to go back inside to study some more."
"Uh uh," he pouts, shaking his head back and forth when Vincent trots over to Sheila.
"None of that young man or there'll be no more time outs," she looks at him pointedly.
"But I like the horsies," his chin warbles.
"If you do everything Miss Sheila asks, then I'll let you help me feed the horses - if - it's okay with your father, the Prince."
"Okay," he nods at Sheila then lifts his chin to look up at Vincent who winks at him. Gently pulling on the reins, the magnificent animal begins to trot lazily around its enclosure.
"Grandpa, will you watch 'Finding Nemo' with me?" Oliver wanders into his office.
Giuseppe pulls the young boy onto his lap. "Aren't you supposed to be studying with Miss Sheila?" he tilts his head to meet the little boy's eyes.
Shaking his head back and forth, he mumbles, "nuh uh, she went bye."
The older man smiles when the boy takes his water bottle and takes a swallow. "I'll tell you what, Grandpa has a little work to finish up first, I'll come find you when I'm done then we'll watch it together. Maybe we can even get grandma to make us some popcorn?"
"Okay," he nods excitedly.
"Run along now," he sets Oliver on the floor and chuckles watching his little legs running out of the room. Giuseppe leans back in his chair and tents his fingers, remembering when he used to watch children's movies with his own son.
Wandering around the castle, Oliver hears his grandma's voice and ducks into the room unnoticed when he sees her. She's drinking something in her fancy cup. Stealthily he hides behind one of the chairs.
"Your Highness?" comes someone's voice.
"Yes," the Queen looks up.
"We're working on the menu for the State dinner. Well, we've tried a new recipe, we'd like your opinion," the young woman says.
"Of course, Rose," he hears his grandma answer then the slide of chair legs against the floor. Peeking out, he sees that she's gone so he tiptoes over to her table, grabs the salt and shakes a bunch in her drink. Hearing footsteps, he quickly sets the shaker back down and returns to his hiding place. He covers his mouth so he won't give away his presence.
"What the..." he hears his grandma's voice then the ting of the china cup when she sets back on the saucer.
"Oliver?" her voice rises with each syllable.
Knowing he's been caught, he runs out of the room with the Queen hot on his heels.
Damon looks up at the sound of little feet running and the slamming of a door. Before he's can even stand up to investigate, his mother appears in the doorway.
"What's going on?" he asks, eyeing her curiously.
"Where is he?" she replies through gritted teeth.
"What did he do now?"
"Get him and he'll tell you."
"Oliver," Damon calls out. When the boy doesn't appear, he ducks around his mom then goes to fetch the boy. Opening the door, the room appears empty so he drops to his knees to look under the bed. "Grandma is here to see you. Want to tell me what that's about?"
The little boy shakes his head back and forth.
"Okay then," Damon reaches for his arms and pulls him out despite the boy's efforts to fight against him. Picking him up, he throws him over his shoulder to go face his mother.
"Oliver John Grayson Salvatore, tell your daddy what you did?" the Queen arches an eyebrow at him.
After tightening his lips, he slowly shakes his head back and forth.
"Oliver, either you tell me or no cartoons for a week."
"I put salt in her cup." he reluctantly admits with a low voice.
"Why would you do that?"
"Cause I heard you tell mommy that you did it when you were little."
Damon struggles to keep a straight face but somehow he does. "That was very naughty. You go to your room now."
"I want mommy," his lower lip juts out as his big blue eyes fill with tears.
"Mommy's not home. Now go," Damon sets him down, and swats his behind before he runs back into his room.
"What are you going to do?" his mother rounds on Damon.
"I'll talk to Elena, I'll talk to Sheila. I'm sorry mom, I didn't know he heard that."
"Next time, you keep your exploits to yourself," she stiffens her posture and makes a hasty retreat.
Frustrated, Damon flops onto the couch, lets his head fall back and closes his eyes, hoping he can come up with some way to tame his rambunctious child.
"That was good," Oliver claps. "Can we watch it again?"
"Perhaps. Do you know why I showed you that movie?"
"Uh uh," he shakes his head back and forth.
"The lesson here is that you must always do the right thing, even if it hurts very much to do so. Simba's duty was to be King. The other animals that live on the African Savanna needed a leader. Someday you're going to be a leader too. Being a Prince and the future king means you have responsibilities, even at your age."
"I do?"
"Now come with me, I want to show you something," she takes his hand and together they walk through the palace, stopping when they reach the third floor overlooking the great hall below.
"There's my grandpa and grandma," he points to the King and Queen as they greet their guests. He watches the little girls curtsy, boys in suits and ties shake her hand. Big people bowing and how his grandma smiles and talks to each of the people that pass in front of them.
"Now look a little that way," Sheila adds, pointing to his parents who are doing the same thing, and how his mom lights up when she takes the little girls and boys hands.
"I want to go by my mommy," Oliver looks up at her.
"You can't tonight because your grandmother doesn't trust you to be a good boy."
"I'm a good boy," his lower lip trembles.
"You're going to have to show her that you are," Sheila lifts him into her arms so they can watch the party below. The orchestra starts to play and the dance floor fills. She points out his mom and dad.
"Mommy," he says softly watching his parents dance gracefully as if made for each other.
"Perhaps you can dance with you mommy next time. We have to show your grandma that you can be the best boy."
"Okay," he nods. "Can we watch 'The Lion King' again?"
"Alright but then it's your bed time. There'll be no fussing." she sets him down.
"I promise," he takes her hand and practically drags her back.
She has a good feeling, thinking maybe she's finally gotten through to the young prince.
The palace sits high upon a hill overlooking the city, it's many ancient pointed towers giving it the look of an eccentric crown. The walls are a white stone that glistens in the summer sun and the roof is made grey slate. Around the palace are the horse pastures, kitchen gardens for the royal family, around that is a stone wall and quarters for the guards that keep them safe day and night.
With his wife on his arm, dressed to the nines in an emerald colored sleeveless tulle gown by Dior, they take their place beside his parents. He can't help but admire her beauty. Her hair is in an elegant up-do. Her only jewelry are beautiful emerald and diamond earrings and a diamond cuff on her wrist. Her makeup is subtle and alluring, he leans over to whisper in her ear, "I love you."
""I love you, too," she replies, because once you give someone your heart, you never want to stop reminding them that it's theirs.
Next to Damon stands Oliver in a child's navy tuxedo as they greet the Spanish Royal Family, welcoming them to the banquet. The tables are decorated with the colors of Spain's flag and the great hall is spotless, glimmering under the lights of the many cut glass chandeliers.
An orchestra is playing soft music in the background. Everything is so different than it was before Elena. He used to loathe these affairs. Although they're still not his favorite thing by far, at least he has his wife at his side to make them tolerable.
"Prince Oliver, you look so handsome," Caroline winks at him. Surprising everyone, he takes her gloved hand and presses a kiss to it then stands up straight. "Who is this boy?" she looks at Damon.
"My son," Damon's buttons practically pop on his silk shirt. He knows however that the evening is early yet and a lot can happen.
"Hello Princess Elena," Lord Niklaus greets her, mimicking Oliver. He winks at the boy as he and Caroline continue forward to greet the King Felipe VI and Queen Letizia.
When the bell sounds, they all take their seats at the table and wait to be served. The meal consists of Marinated South Uist salmon, Lyme Bay crab and wild Hebridean langoustines along with fresh herb salad. Paired with a 2009 Meursault, Domaine Guyot-Javillier wine.
The second course: Saddle of North Highland Mey Select organic lamb, Highgrove spring vegetables, English asparagus, Jersey Royal potatoes, and sauce Windsor. Paired with a 2004 L'Hospitalet de Gazin, Pomerol wine.
And for dessert: Trio of Berkshire honey ice cream, sherry trifle and chocolate parfait. Served with Laurent Perrier Rose Champagne, along with coffee and fresh mint tea.
When the meal is finished, Damon offers his hand to Elena and leads her onto the dance floor. Once they take their place, the soft flow of music begins. Together they take a step forward and bow. They circle each other, their gazes locking. Damon places his hand on her back, her hand on his shoulder, and their free hands finally meeting. Together, they dance to the music, their feet in perfect sync to the beating of his heart. As the song progresses, he begins to relax and allows a small smile to form on his lips.
Damon's wearing a black Louis Vuitton tuxedo. His eyes, blue as spring rain, are deep and irresistible. Elena giggles when he turns elegantly, his body in tune with the slow music. The warmth between them grows more powerful by the second. Her heartbeat is growing steadily along with it. Their dance is perfect; everything from their breathing to how their feet move in sync.
When the song ends, Damon bows and leads her off the dance floor. Not seeing their son, they look around, a little shocked to see him dancing with his grandmother. The Queen is smiling as raises her arm for him to circle beneath it. Their little boy's face is beaming when he wraps his arms around her middle and hugs her. Some of their guests smile at the sight, some pause to watch his mother and son, others nod but mostly they continue to dance to the music.
"Well what do you know?" Damon looks at Elena dumbfounded.
"He's a good boy Damon, he just needs some boundaries," Elena tells him wisely.
"Remind me to send Sheila a few dozen roses. Wow," he filches a champagne glass from a waiter's tray when the man walks past them.
"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to have a dance with my son," Elena bows her head teasingly before walking away.
"Can I dance too?" she taps on the Queen's shoulder to have a turn.
"Why yes," Lilliana backs off and let's Elena take her place. She watches them for a moment before approaching her son.
"I don't know what Sheila did but I must thank her. I told him that I'm very proud of him," she takes Damon's champagne glass and takes a swallow.
"Hey," he starts when his father appears.
"My dear, may I have this dance?"
"Oh Giuseppe, you can be such a romantic," her smile is radiant as she takes his offered hand, follows him onto the dance floor and into his awaiting arms.
Moments later, Elena and Oliver come to stand next to him as he watches his parents still so in love all these years later. Noticing the little boy yawn, he picks Oliver up and soon he's sound asleep, his head lulling on his father's shoulder.
"Let's give our compliments and take him to bed," he takes Elena's hand and after saying goodnight to his parents and giving their kindest regards to King Felipe and Queen Letizia, they ascend the staircase...
After tucking their son in, he turns on the nightlight and slips out of the room. Retiring to their bedroom, he sheds his tuxedo, leaving only his boxer shorts on. When Elena walks out of the bathroom in her lacy black negligee, he moves to stand in front of her. His eyes darken as they rake over her gorgeous body and his hand gently cradles her slight bump.
"I'm going to kiss you."
Elena doesn't move a muscle as he leans in and brushes his mouth against hers. Not even a kiss yet, just the suggestion of one. He pulls her bottom lip between his just a little, before releasing her. He doesn't straighten back up, he just hovers, his face inches from hers. Her eyes closed as she pulls in a shaky breath. She opens them and finds his.
He leans in again. Another brush. Then a kiss, a real one, his lips pressing to hers. He takes it so slow, just a gentle caress of his lips on hers. Seconds later, he feels her respond, a whisper of movement under his mouth. Heat explodes in his chest. Damon brings his free hand up to cup her face and tilt her head. He lets go of her tummy and finds her hip, pulling her nearly flush against him.
The kiss spirals on. He licks her bottom lip and she kisses harder. He groans; she sighs. Sliding his hand into her hair, he grips the back of her neck so he can make it deeper and more intense.
With her body pressing against his, she runs her palm up the side of his neck, cups his jaw for a moment before twisting her fingers into his hair.
They break the kiss and he moves to her cheek then the little hollow under her jaw. He cradles the back of her head with his palm as she bares her neck.
"Let's go to bed," he whispers into her skin.
She groans, a low sexy sound of frustration. He smiles into her neck and licks her before pressing his lips to the sweet spot behind her ear. "Ughh," she sighs. He scrapes his teeth along her neck on his way back to her mouth, and she murmurs, almost to herself, "You're such a good kisser."
They're all over each other with lips and tongues. He presses his hips against hers, digging his fingertips into her ass to hold her steady.
Her head drops back a little. He doesn't relent, kissing her earlobe, the corner of her jaw, her temple, her cheek. He presses his lips against hers again, but softer. He brushes them back and forth, hoping she's imagining the feel of his mouth on other parts of her body.
He whispers in her ear, "It'll be good. I promise...," then he surges up, cutting her off with another one that silences anything and everything but Elena's need to be with him.
She groans again, her eyes closed tight. "You are one smooth..."
He pecks her bottom lip, then the edge of her mouth. "I promise," he repeats.
She sighs, a long shuddering breath of air across his neck. "Take me to bed."
I know I always say it but I have read it over many times, and still overlook some glaring errors sometimes. I try to catch them but sometimes they're "invisible" until the story or chapter is posted. Please forgive any mistakes.
As always, excited to hear your thoughts on this POMH sequel. Aisha is not only an exceptional friend, she's also a prolific and amazing writer, she has currently 3 stories in progress and updates regularly. I don't know how she does it.
Love you Eva. Thank you so much for everything you do to bring these characters to life.
We'll see you soon with the WTBHTB update. Take care and have a wonderful day. Happy Birthday Aisha, hope it's wonderful.