it was the early hours of the morning when Elena fell asleep, sated, satisfied, and not a little smug.

over a century and a half of practice made Damon salvatore into a lover whose skill - and endurance, god knew he had an endless supply of endurance - defied description. how many times had they come together in the night, their bodies interlocking perfectly like puzzle pieces finally finding their mate?

for that matter, how many times had she come? she'd lost the ability to keep track - although Damon could've informed her - smirkingly - that her orgasms numbered in the high teens.

despite it all, despite the hazy blur of ecstasy that made coherent thought all but impossible, Elena had been dimly aware that this was what had been missing all along - from her other relationships, from other hook-ups - from her life. perhaps from her very soul.

because Damon completed Elena - figuratively, literally, entirely. when he slowly withdrew from her body the last time Elena felt a keen, overwhelmingly intense sense of loss.

but then he pulled her close, their bodies curving together; the smooth skin of her back was still hot from his touch as it fitted perfectly to the hard muscles of his chest. his arm draped over her ribcage, his hand cupping her left breast in a tender, possessive way. she lifted her hand and covered his so that their twined fingers lay soft and warm over her heart.

as she drifted off, the thought crossed Elena's mind that Damon salvatore had officially ruined her for any other man.

but she wouldn't take back a second of it. even if they were never together again, she'd cherish the memory of this night, when passion and lust and - yes, damn it, love, culminated in an experience she'd never dreamed possible. he'd made her laugh, he'd made her whimper, he'd made her beg. he'd taken complete advantage of her in the most delicious way.

he'd quite enjoyed calling her bluff about being "bendy" - especially when he found out that it wasn't a bluff at all.

he experimented, claimed her in positions that would make her blush in the light of day. he explored every inch of her until he knew exactly where to touch, how to move, how deep to thrust.

he did things to her no one else had done before, using tongue and teeth and wicked fingertips all at once until she flew over that dangerous edge, then brought his hand, wet with her passion, to her lips. her eyes were dark, nearly black, as she watched him - and her tongue flicked out, swept the pad of his thumb.

and she moaned, tasting herself, tasting the ecstasy he'd brought her.

he'd traced the crease of her secret center without dipping inside her, deliberately skirting the bundle of nerve endings - that magic female spot desperate for his fingers. she'd begged him to touch her, but instead he'd captured her hand, pressed it to her hot pulsing sex, caught her ankles in a firm grip and shoved them back, forcing her knees up, spreading her legs and instructing her to play with herself.

the idea of it seemed so shameful - touching oneself was a private thing, and not one Elena had particularly indulged in before. but under his midnight stare she felt beautiful and did as he asked. found herself luxuriating in the act, unbelievably aroused by his eyes as they feasted on her naughty fingers. she was on the brink of orgasm when he'd snatched her hands away, dragged her to the foot of the bed, kept her knees drawn to her chest and slammed into her in one deep, powerful stroke. she didn't have time to prepare for the physical assault, couldn't hold back, and as he felt her tighten around him, felt her soak his cock with her devastated pleasure, he took a moment to smile down at this wonderful girl, this woman who was every man's dream... but when he saw her watching him through half-closed eyes and toying with her own breasts he lost control and began pounding and pumping, rough and merciless and mouthwateringly hot, until he burst inside her.

he'd pinned her to the wall and ravaged her mouth. he'd snagged her ankles and shoved her legs upright, pressing her back to the headboard of the bed, slipped into her, made her cry his name as each new angle touched another sensitive spot and set her free.

she'd straddled him, used her mouth on him, nearly choked on the length of him as he fought to keep his hips still, to keep himself from quite simply fucking her mouth. as abruptly as she'd started she stopped, eluding his grasp when he reached for her. slowly, torturously, she lowered herself onto him, let him impale her, penetrating deep, rocking back and forth, back and forth, raising herself above him until he was barely inside her, making him beg as she teased the head of his cock with her velvet center, and when she knew he was on the verge of breaking she dropped her hips, let him plunge deep, felt him fill her, thick and throbbing - and felt his sex flood her body as he came with a shuddering gasp.

no man had ever come inside her before; she'd always had Stefan, who, like Damon, was physically incapable of fathering a child, pull out before he finished. yet here, now, with Damon moving inside her, she couldn't bear to let him go. she wanted to feel, truly feel, what she could do to him. she wanted to feel his release and know she was responsible for the aftershocks rocking his body.

he could've gone on forever - she could've gone on forever, or so she believed, but with each successive orgasm her body weakened, her defenses dropped, her bones melted until she was limp, and finally he knew that even though his appetite for her was anything but slaked he had to let her sleep. slowly, hating to break contact, he withdrew from her body - even as she protested - telling her firmly that they needed rest.

she would, he thought, smiling to himself, feel sore in the morning.

even as he gloried in the events of the past hours, even as he held her bare body against his and tasted her on his lips, the doubts crept in,

what had this meant, really? why now? had it been pure impulse, the result of her succumbing to the undeniable fire burning brilliantly between them? had it been curiosity? was he an experiment, a mere comparison to what she had with Stefan? was this some sort of audition? a whim?

or was it real? christ, it felt so real. he couldn't have made it all up in his head; she had to have felt the things he did, the beautiful sense of fulfillment, of rightness. when they joined together he could only think, "it's her. she's the one." he'd known that already, but when their bodies became one it only solidified the idea, made him absolutely certain that this was right, that this was how it was meant to be, how they were meant to be. they belonged together, heart, body, soul. and now that he'd had her, no matter what her motives had been, he simply didn't think he could let her go.

oh, god, he desperately hoped he wouldn't have to let her go. because ultimately he always, always did what he felt was best for Elena, always did as she asked and gave her what she needed (unless, of course, she "needed" to do something stupid, like put herself in danger and play the martyr - in those instances his philosophy was to throw her in the trunk of his car and get the hell out of Mystic - but that was beside the point).

because in matters of the heart Damon always gave her what she needed. hadn't he given her space, kept his distance even though it killed him a little more every day? and now he could feel, genuinely feel those pieces of his heart that had been withering to dust - he could feel her inside him like a gentle rain blessing a dying blade of grass. she gave him sunshine, shelter, hope, life.

and then in an instant the sun was replaced by pitch black. the hope vanished, left an aching void behind. the cool rain, a balm on his bleeding soul, became a vicious storm that beat violently down on his head; the shelter she'd offered crumbled, his empty daydreams laughed in cruel, malicious glee, the timid blade of grass, pelted by the angry rain, collapsed, defeated, into the earth.

in an instant, everything inside him went dark. everything inside him died.

in her sleep, Elena murmured one word.

"Stefan..."

AUTHOR'S QUESTION: How much do you hate me right now? Thanks to everyone reviewing and reading and following, I'm new to and getting such a welcome reception is pretty fantastic. I'll post the next part soon I promise, likely sometime tomorrow. Also, I know the lack of capitalization bothers some of you and I'm really sorry for that but this story is already written, I'm just teasing you guys with a little bit at a time. Capitalizing things can interrupt the flow of my writing sometimes but As You Can See I'm working on it :) I have been doing a find/replace deal with their names anyway but yeah - my apologies. Okay, I'll be back with more soon, promise. I can't seem to hold out long on you guys and it's so awesome that you're eager for more. SOON! - katherine (it's my name and i'll capitalize if i want to ;) )