Eeek, sorry it took so long to finish this. Major writer's block since Christmas, but I was determined to see this one through. I've got so many Delena ideas swimming around my head (mainly thanks to some amazing fanfic writers out there, who are doing wonders for the creative juices!)

But for now, here is the finale to this promised two-shot.

WARNING: Smut, language, the usual

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my own sordid Damon-centric thoughts

Enjoy x

Part 2

She's waiting at the bottom of the stairs, coat already swung around her shoulders, clutch firmly in hand.

"What took you so long?" she asks, her voice innocent enough. But it's those eyes that give her away; they glint, creased at the corners as she fights to keep a straight face.

"You might find it hard to believe, but this," I gesture from head to toe, "this takes time to perfect."

She cocks an eyebrow.

I pull her against me, pressing my lips to her neck, breathing in her perfume and the faint smell of lavender from the bath. I slide my arms under her coat so I can graze my fingertips down her exposed back, smirking as she shivers.

"Unlike you, I can't just throw on a dress and nothing else," I murmur.

"Are you doubting the effort that has gone into all of this?" She pulls away slightly, her mouth pouted. Her indignation, however fake, is the least thing on my mind as I struggle to keep my eyes on her face rather than a few inches lower her breasts are pushed together with only a breath of air between them, creating a valley that only leads one place.

"I don't doubt for a second that a lot of thought went into that underwear that was hanging in closet."

She blushes.

"And," I continue, my hands trailing south over the swell of her ass. "I don't doubt that it was a very conscious effort to leave it hanging there..."

"Huh, an interesting theory." She pulls away completely this time and turns her attention to the mirror in the hallway.

"An interesting theory?" I echo.

"Yeah. I mean, you know full well my penchant for fancy underwear. I have plenty to choose from."

True.

"Anyway," she continues, her chin rising defiantly. "Do I look like a fur-coat-no-knickers kinda girl?"

I don't trust myself to answer that – I barely trust the cocky grin that's gracing my face right now.

She scowls.

"Fine. Put it this way, do I look like the kind of girl who'd go commando to a fancy-do, knowing full well that if my nympho boyfriend had the slightest inkling that is what I'd done, wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself for a second, let alone a whole evening of schmoozing?"

Yes. Please, God, yes.

"Although... If I were that kind of girl..."

Her words hang in the hair as she pulls her lips together into a pout.

"C'mon Elena, you can't leave a guy hanging like that."

"What's the fun in telling?" She lifts a finger and trails it down the side of my face, across my lips. "Don't you like surprises?"

I shake my head and she laughs.

"Tough."

I frown. And that's when she gives me the look.

The look that's usually reserved for when she's straddling me, her hips twisting freely under my loose grip. The look that tells me I'm in the best kind of trouble, before she clenches around my length for a split second, before she relaxes and sways her hips in the opposite direction, making me curse as for the umpteenth time she denies me my release, yet brings her closer to her own. Not that I ever complain; watching her lose herself astride me is one the greatest pleasures I have ever known.

But right now, that look tells me everything I need to know.

There is not enough bourbon in the world to get me through this. These events are tedious enough, but throw in a panty-less Elena, whose scent is intoxicating even from across the room, it's beyond torture.

I've kept up the pretence for an hour, making mind-numbing small talk with various patrons of whatever fund it is that I've written a cheque to and clinking glasses with all and sundry. But now I've had enough. I've never been a fan of these things and tonight's predicament only makes it worse. Don't get me wrong, I love seeing Elena dressed up and I know she feels the same way about me, but I'd prefer it a hell of a lot better if it was just me and her in a secluded corner of a fancy restaurant.

Elena is a master of the schmooze. I do the bare minimum and spend the rest of the night making the most of the free bar. Although that does give me the best view in the house and right now, I'm watching Elena lift her drink, sip and swallow. She glances around for somewhere to place the empty glass and catches my eye.

"Ready to leave?" she murmurs.

I nod.

"Tough."

I roll my eyes and she smirks.

The power has definitely gone to her head and she's loving every moment. I'm well and truly getting my comeuppance for earlier. Even though she said she'd make it up to me, I know full well that I'm in for a long wait. A long and torturous wait.

I glance back and gesture at the barman for another round. He obliges and lingers when I beckon him forward.

"Brunette in the red dress. What's she drinking?"

"Champagne mostly, Sir."

"Send over another glass."

I know exactly what she's drinking. And I know that we're one glass away from tipsy Elena. And tipsy Elena is a horny Elena. And a turned on, buzzed Elena is... well, that would be telling. But I know damn sure that it leads to a very happy me.

I watch the barman place a single glass on the tray and approach.

"Excuse me Miss," he proffers the glass. "From the gentleman at the bar."

Elena narrows her eyes at me. I raise my own glass in response, before turning back to the bar.

"Sir, she asked me to give you this."

I glance up at the barman, at the fold napkin in his hand. I snatch it from him, dismissing him with a glare. He backs away, keen to remove himself from the twisted foreplay that is this evening.

Smooth, Salvatore. Just like me.

My cock hardens. Christ, like I needed reminding of that right now. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath.

"It's not fun to be teased, is it?" she murmurs.

I shake my head.

"Right answer. And don't think I don't know what your doing. I've been counting. And I know my limit. And so do you."

I swallow thickly. Her voice is all I can hear, soft and low but crystal clear as if she's standing next to me. But I know that she's half-way across the room. I hear the clink of her nails against the glass as she sets it down on a table, the swish of her hair as she flicks it over one shoulder.

"Did you really think it would be this easy? That you send over a drink like we're complete strangers and my panties would just slip off?"

I silently kick myself at my utter stupidity.

"Obviously that wouldn't work."

Of course not, idiot.

"Mainly because i'm not wearing any panties."

Fuck me.

She pauses, and I listen to the soft rhythmic drum of her fingers on wood. "So... what do we do now?"

I glance back over my shoulder and she meets my gaze. I down my drink and make my way over to her.

"Please can we go home now?" I whisper.

"Actually," she picks up her glass and takes a tiny sip. "I've just got to say hi to –"

"No, you don't." I take the glass from her and wrap my hand around hers. "There are plenty of things that need doing and saying hi to another society bitch isn't one of them."

"Damon!" She shrieks as I tug her towards the door. But she doesn't resist and by the time we're out the front door, it's her pulling me towards the car.

We stumble through the door like love-struck teenagers, hands, mouths desperate not to part from the other. Elena pushes me against the door, closing it with a slam, before I grasp her around the waist and lift her onto the table in the hallway.

Her shoes clatter to the floor as I hastily kick of my own, my lips attacking her neck as she scrapes her nails through my hair. Her heels dig into my ass, pulling me closer against her, the soft fabric of her dress like cool water against my raging hard on. I kiss my way back up her throat, grinning as I hear and feel the hitch in her breathing as I cross over the main artery.

I feel her nipples harden and move one hand over her breast, my thumb circling the tip before I pinch. She groans, her back arching, her neck fully exposed. I bite with blunt teeth, my tongue running over the red mark as she hisses against my forehead.

She grips my head with both hands and pulls me back up to her mouth, her lips already bruised, the bottom lip plump and ripe. I pull away from her, tugging that bottom lip gently. She sighs, her fingers sliding along the collar of my jacket, pushing it down my arms until it slumps to the floor.

Reaching down, I grasp the hem of the dress and slowly, inch by inch, start to ease it up her legs. My little fingers trail behind, feeling the goosebumps rise on the smooth flesh. As the fabric and my fingers glide over her knees she flinches and I pause.

"Tickles," she mumbles.

I kiss her softly, slowly as my hands grip her thighs, pushing them further apart as I slowly reach my goal. My fingers slide over her hips, my cock hardening even more as all I register is hot, bare skin. I push her left leg out further, my thumb dropping further south.

I can't help but groan when I touch my handiwork. She smiles against my lips, relaxed in my arms, even though I know she's fighting the urge not to twist her hips upwards, to force me to touch her sooner rather than later. She knows what she wants and she knows that if she asks for it, I will be more than happy to give it to her. I could never say no to her. But even though it kills her, she knows when to wait, to let me explore her, to show her that even without asking, I will always give her my everything.

But there's been enough teasing, enough playing tonight. I don't want to wait any longer than she does. I slide my thumb through the strip of hair and graze across her clit. She jolts in my arms, pressing herself against my solitary finger without any hesitation. I circle the tiny bundle of nerves, once, twice, before rubbing barely there strokes across it. She bites my lip hard and I growl in pain, but it doesn't, and never will, stop her.

I slide my forefinger down even further, humming in approval as I rub against her slick opening. She presses against me again and unlike before, she doesn't have to beg me for her release. I push my finger into her, my thumb still rubbing her clit. Her head rolls back, her eyes half-closed and I watch her mouth fall open in a silent scream, as I add a second finger, her walls clenching around them as she suddenly lets out a low howl.

She slumps against me, twitching slightly as I ease my hands back around her waist and lift her against me. She mumbles something that even I can't distinguish as I carry her up the stairs to our bedroom.

The sheets are still rumpled from her lazy afternoon; I was too caught up in our antics earlier to think about making the room look presentable for our return. I lay Elena down on the bed, and she slides effortlessly against the soft sheets, her body still flushed, her breathing still heavy. I slowly remove my tie, shirt and pants before slipping into bed behind her. She curls against my instinctively and I pull her even closer when I slide my arm over her waist.

The dress moulds against her body, dipping between her legs and as I slide my hand down, I can feel the dampness form.

"Elena... c'mon... Let's get you out of this."

She glares up at me through thick eye lashes.

"You ruined my surprise."

I chuckle. "You told me your surprise already."

"I had a whole thing planned."

I cock my head to one side.

"A whole thing?"

"Yes."

"What was it?"

"Doesn't matter. You ruined it."

I grin. "Didn't hear you complaining."

She wiggles against me in frustration, freeing herself from my arms. I rock back, resting my hands behind my head as she sits up and swings her legs off the bed.

"You're not going to tell me what the surprise was?"

"Thought you already knew, Mr Know-It-All," she huffs.

I roll onto my side and reach out to run a finger tip down her spine. "Don't be like that..."

She rises, her back still to me and I watch as she pulls her back over her shoulder once more, her fingers reaching for the thin shoulder straps that disappear into nothing. Slowly, she slides one down, and then the other until they hang loosely at her elbows. She turns back towards me, her breasts just, just, covered.

And then she shrugs her shoulders ever so slightly.

And the dress is gone.

I swallow hard. I've seen her naked thousands of times. But every time I notice something different, something new, a small freckle here, a scar there, the way her stomach muscles tense when I brush over a sensitive spot under her right breast. Every time, I'm amazed that we're here and that she trusts me enough to expose not only her body, but her soul, her dreams, her anxieties, everything that she has and wants and needs.

I reach out to her, taking her hand and pulling her closer to me. She kneels on the bed as I edge forward, until i'm close enough to press my lips against her hip, her belly button, her thigh, the dip of her waist, the curve of her breasts, the soft valley between them.

I grasp around her waist and pull her on top of me, pausing only to brush her hair back from her face before her mouth crashes against mine. She grinds against me, the tip of my cock sliding against her, making us both moan wantonly.

I'm breathless when she decides to pull away, I reach out to her but she bats my hands away and eases herself backwards and off of me. I frown, confused as she turns her back to me once more, but my confusion doesn't last long.

She glances over my shoulder, with the look that makes my stomach jolt. Her hand grips my cock firmly, her thumb working the tip, her eyes never leaving mine. She rises slowly, her hand still tight around me as she slides the head against her opening once again. I grasp her hips as she slowly slides down my length.

"Fuck, Elena."

She moves slowly, with precision, occasionally glancing back at me, her eyes dancing as she watches my slack jaw, my half-closed eyes. My grip on her hips loosen and tighten with every rise and fall. My fingers slide down her ass cheeks, pulling them apart, making her whimper as I watch my cock slide in and out of her.

Her hands grip my shins for balance and I barely notice one release it's hold, until she gasps. From behind all I can see is a bent elbow, but I know where her fingers are. I slide one hand over her waist, my hand finding hers, my fingers over hers, as we both push towards her release.

This time, the scream is anything but silent. I let go of her hand, grabbing her hip instead and thrust up into her over and over again until with a gut-wrenching howl, I explode inside her.

I ease her off my cock and she collapses next to me. I pull her close, my nose in her hair, my leg sliding over hers as she curls against me once again.

"You are never wearing underwear again, Gilbert."

"Deal," she sighs.

Fin.