A/N: WARNING, DELENA SMUT TO FOLLOW! If you don't like it, for the love of god don't read it and then message me going "omg, I don't like Delena". Good for you, I do. After this these stories will most likely be separate.

Please read and review! As always any feedback is very helpful :)

Elena's POV

I've been lying in bed awake for hours now, unable to quiet my mind down. I'm still riding the heavy blood high on top of being drunk on alcohol, but my mental dialogue is loud tonight. All I can think about is Damon. The feeling of his mouth on my hand, and when he leaned forward to take the lime from me. His scent had been so intoxicating, just like it always is. I sigh and turn on my side, staring at the digital clock on my side table. 3:45 am is staring at me like it's judging me.

"Ugh!" I finally throw the blankets off me and get out of bed, leaving my pajama pants where they are on the ground. Jeremy is staying with Bonnie tonight and I have the house to myself. That used to make me nervous but now that I'm a vampire I can basically handle myself, and am therefore free to roam the house in my underwear if I want to. Damon has been training me. I feel my body respond to the thought of him and I shake my head, heading down to the kitchen with quick strides.

I feel restless, like the only relief I can find is when I'm moving or occupying myself with something. Currently when my mind is left to wander on it's own, I always end up back at the beginning, thinking about Damon.

I turn into the kitchen and stop dead in my tracks, panicking for a moment before I recognize the dark figure standing by the back door. My heart leaps into my throat, my nerves coming alive instantly. I smile.

"What are you doing up, Damon?" I ask, walking further into the kitchen, leaning against the door frame. He takes off his leather jacket and drapes it over a dining room chair carefully. He's wearing a long sleeved shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his strong forearms. He spends so much money on clothes, but as a result they're very soft, so I see the appeal. I just don't have savings account that have been open for decades like he does.

"I think I could ask you the same thing," he says, his eyes trailing down my body and lingering on my legs. I suddenly remember I'm not wearing any pants, but I don't feel motivated to change that. I like the way his gaze relishes me. I shrug and discretely touch the edge of my underwear, wondering which pair I happen to be wearing. Thankfully its a cute pair of lacy black cheekies I got at Victoria's secret. I remember because Caroline dragged me to the big sale they were having.

"I couldn't sleep," I say truthfully, hoping he'll come closer. It's as though my skin is craving him.

"Yeah me neither," he says, smiling a little hesitantly. There's tension buzzing between us like an electric wire drawn tight. I can't fight the way I feel about him and truthfully I don't want to. I don't see the point, but at the same time I don't know how to give in. The only thing I know is resisting this feeling.

"Well, I'm giving up on trying for now, and I was thinking about putting in a movie. If you wanted to join me," I ask, gesturing towards the living room. I absolutely had not been planning on watching a movie, but it seems like a great idea now. He wanders further in to the sofa and nods, taking the xbox controller from the side table.

"Yeah, but I get to choose the movie," he says pulling up Netflix. I sigh and follow him into the living room, unsure what he could be so set on choosing. I watch as he enters in a search.

"Underworld?" I ask with a laugh (A/N: I'm aware that this movie isn't on Netflix, buuuut oh well).

"Oh yeah," he says, settling further into the sofa and throwing an arm over his head. He looks at me with a mischievous smile, "Kate Beckinsale is hot."

I laugh, his expression tickling me. I settle onto the cushion next to him, vividly aware of how close he is to me right now. I try to focus on the TV but am having a hard time, especially because he shifts a little bit every once in a while.

The action begins and the TV is a little louder than my neighbors would probably appreciate, especially with the surround sound speakers Damon had insisted on installing. Knowing that this is not a sly move at all—merely a shameless excuse to gain some proximity—I lean forward and brace my hand on the couch arm. I stretch over Damon to reach the remote, leaving my ass in full display. I feel like I'm in high school again, teasing a guy because I'm too chicken to make the first move. I hear him growl deep in his chest, his body tensing under me. I use my hair to hide my smirk as I sit back down.

I can feel his eyes on me, maybe waiting for eye contact to scold me readily for my behavior. I find an easy excuse to look at him, widening my eyes innocently.

"Do you want a drink? I think we have bourbon," I say, getting up and walking to the kitchen quickly.

"Sure," he says slowly. I pour two glasses and consider my next actions carefully. If I want Damon, it's possible that I can have him. But I can't do that to him unless I'm completely sure. I close my eyes for a second and try to just feel. I'm overwhelmed by my desire for him, but I keep it together, reminding myself that there's no reason to rush into things. I don't hear him get up from the sofa, but Suddenly Damon's chest is against my back and his mouth is by my ear.

"Everything ok in here?" he asks, his breath dancing across my skin. My hands grip the edge of the counter on reflex, my senses completely overridden by his proximity. I clear my throat, focus and grab a glass, turning in the tight space and handing it to him.

"Yup, here ya go," I say with a smile. His hips lean forward, pressing into mine and pinning me against the counter. He takes the glass from me and downs a large portion, reaching behind me and setting the half-empty glass down. He's so far in my personal space. I can feel my arousal building, the thin barrier of fabrics between us incredibly frustrating.

"That was brave of you," he says, almost with a scolding tone.

"What?" I ask, playing innocent even though I'm fairly sure I know what he's referring to.

"The little stunt you pulled in the living room. And at the bar, for that matter. Brave, but maybe a little cocky," he says, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders and then run down my arms like a slow trail of burning embers. My spine tingles with the contact and I feel my rib cage almost shudder. "You're playing with fire."

When his finger tips reach my wrists, he reverses the path back up to my shoulders. This time he continues, placing his hands on either side of my throat and tilting my jaw up towards his mouth with his thumbs. My mouth is so close to his I can taste his breath on my tongue and I want to lean forward so badly. Just close the gap between us. His ice blue eyes hold my gaze effortlessly, my breath shallow with anticipation.

"What are you gonna do about it?" I ask, my voice quiet and husky. I can't move my head with the hold he has on my neck and jaw, but I'm washed with relief and arousal when he begins leaning forward. His lips take mine firmly, but it's not rough. Just determined. My body is suddenly flooded with white, hot desire, and I grab onto his sides, pulling him harder against me. He responds with a throaty growl, his hand finding the back of my head and gripping the hair there.

I'm craving the feel of his skin and my fingers find the hem of his shirt, sneaking beneath it so I can feel the smooth planes of his stomach. His hands leave my hair and throat, grabbing my waist with a nearly violent edge. Next his hands are at my bare hips, lifting me so I'm now sitting on the edge of the counter. I can feel him grabbing the lower edge of my tank top, and I wait anxiously for him to rip it off. Instead he pulls his lips away from me, resting his forehead against mine.

"If we start this and you stop part way through, you will be seriously testing my self-control. Understood?" he says, his voice strained like he's losing self-control as we speak anyway. The sound of his voice makes my core ache even more for him. I know what I want now more than ever. I grab his face, forcing him to meet my eyes.

"I don't want you to stop," I say, my eye contact and confidence never wavering.

His lips are on mine in an instant, the touch so loaded with crumbling restraint that it takes me by surprise. It only takes him a second to rip my tank top off, grabbing my breasts with capable hands as soon as they're exposed. I gasp at the sensation, feeling the wetness build between my legs as he teases my nipples with expert movements.

I plant my hands on his bare chest and shove him back into the kitchen island, attacking him in the moment he's taken off guard. My hands find the button on his pants easily and they're falling in a puddle around his feet in no time. I palm the hardened bulge in his boxer briefs, shivering at the way he groans when I squeeze just a little.

Our roles are reversed quickly, me suddenly bent over the kitchen island he was leaning on just moments before. His hands leave hot trails up the backs of my thighs, gabbing the edge of my shorts and pulling them down quickly. I kick them off once they're at my ankles, setting my feed a little wider. I try to prop myself up on my elbows, but Damon puts a firm hand on the back of my neck, holding me down. His palm connects with my underwear covered core, the fabric already wet. He doesn't move and I feel my hips move of their own volition, trying to rub against his hand and bring me some release.

He groans his approval, finally giving me the pressure I want and rubbing me through my soaked underwear. I moan, biting my lip when his fingers full the fabric aside and slip into my heat. He spends a little time teasing at my clit before pushing a finger into me. I grab onto the edge of the counter, my hips bucking up when he finds my g-spot.

His mouth is on my throat, his lips massaging the skin with demanding force. I can't wait any longer. I need all of him, now.

"Damon, fuck me," I say, pushing my hips against his hand. "Please."

A growl rumbles in his chest pressed against me, my panties getting pushed off quickly. He doesn't hold me down anymore so I prop on my elbows. Instead he braces on hand on the counter next to my head and uses the other to push into me. The feeling is so earth shattering that my spine starts tingling almost instantly. He rests one hand on my waist and uses the other to grab my right breast, teasing my nipple roughly with his fingers.

The moans are pouring out of me so frequently and uncontrollably now that I'm not sure why I bothered turning down the movie—we're far louder than that at this point. His hand grabs my hair, pulling me back until my neck is closer to his mouth while his hips slam into mine relentlessly. I can feel the veins around my eyes pulsing, my fangs pushing down through my gums and the animalistic growls Damon's making have me eliciting a carnal response. I can feel the energy building in the bit of my stomach, bringing me closer and closer to slipping over the edge into bliss.

Damon's mouth leaves a hot kiss on my throat before his teeth slide through the skin. Energy crashes through my body, the wave of pleasure washing from my stomach to the ends of my toes. Damon pulls his mouth off my neck, licking the excess blood there and then steps back from me. I'm sure that he's finished, but when I turn around he's still rock hard. His mouth is red with my blood and my animal instincts take in. Before he can try to stay in control and stop me, I drop to my knees and take him into my mouth.

"Fuck," Damon says breathlessly, bucking forward to support his weight on the edge of the counter. I take his considerable length as far as I can, compensating with my hand at the base. I start slow, enjoying the irritated growls he makes when I lick the length teasingly before letting it slip back into my hot mouth. I set a decent pace and begin pumping him, following my hand with my mouth. I can feel his hips shudder momentarily. He doesn't let me finish him though. Instead he pulls me upright, hoisting me onto his hips. I lock my legs around his back, devouring his lips with mine and relishing the taste of my blood on his mouth.

We're desperate for each other now, our hands never quite settling but always moving with deliberate force. I trail kisses down his neck, unable to resist the delicious scent of his blood. I give him little more than a warning kiss before I sink my teeth into his vein. His blood is the sweetest thing I've ever tasted, like a life-force washing through me and a delicious wine at the same time.

I feel my back crash into the wall, knocking the framed picture next to me off the wall. He thrusts into me and I release the hold I have on his throat to release the moan the assaults me. The high from the blood is taking me over while Damon's body overwhelms me and I can't remember ever feeling better than I do right now.

I'm tugged away from the wall for a minute before my gravity shifts and I land on my back on the dining room table. Damon grabs my legs, draping them over his shoulders and pressing into me with hard thrusts. His hands braced on the table next to my hands and I grab onto him to hold myself in place. My nails dig into his skin when the energy starts to build this time. A white-hot pleasure tingles through my spine.

"Damon, so close," I say between breathless moans. I rock my hips against his as best I can, bringing myself ever closer. He leans forward, capturing my lips and driving himself deeper into me. I fall over the brink instantly, clawing his skin and grinding my hips against his while I ride out the intense sensation. I feel his hips shudder against mine, his grip on my legs getting harder for a moment.

The energy in the room finally fades and Damon lets my legs drop back down, resting his forehead against the space between my breasts. He leaves a few hot kisses there, his hands smoothing over the skin of my back.

"That was..." I can't even find words to say what I'm trying to say.

"Unbelievable," Damon suggests. That seems like as good a word as any. All of my nerves feel shell-shocked, like they'll react to the slightest provocation—including air molecules.

"Yes," I say, unable to peel the smile off my face. Damon looks up at me, resting his chin on my sternum and piercing me with his icy blue eyes. His grin is lazy but completely contented. I can't believe I ever doubted that I love him. I can't imagine ever thinking otherwise now.

"Did you know that I love you?" I ask, running my fingers through his messy hair. His eyes light up and his smile gets just a little wider. Even after the way we just ravaged each other—oh yeah, that picture frame is totally smashed—when he kisses me, it feels like the first time again.

A/N: WOO! There's the Delena installment. D