Their mouths were needy.

They kissed as if each kiss was precious air to the dying.

Their hands dragged though hair, pressed over ribs, gripped necks and desperately held closer.

Hayley felt her back against the wall.

Like the first time.

The first time they finally gave in to one another had been so wild and passionate, all that time ago now. How badly she'd wanted him then- needed him! Before she gave herself to Jackson, she'd needed to be his. Just once.

Just once.

And when it had happened she knew… although she tried to tell herself something different, she knew she'd given her whole self to Elijah. Her whole heart. Not much had been left to offer poor Jackson, as good as a man as he was. As much as she tried to make it right.

She belonged to Elijah.

She still belonged to Elijah.

Now in France she kissed him, trying to say with her kiss everything she could not say out loud. So she kissed him and kissed him, so that he might know all.

How could she be strangers with this man who knew her soul?

She hardly knew how she was touching his skin, how he was touching hers, how their shirts had come off…

She hadn't noticed the removal of her bra; she only felt his large beautifully sculpted hand cupping her breast, rolling her nipple, causing electric pleasure to shoot through her, as it hadn't done in far too long.

Elijah.

She only felt his lips and then his fangs on her neck… and then her golden eyes flashed again. He pushed back and studied her, his head tilting as it always did when he was deep in thought. His dark eyes were searching her golden ones without fear. The oldest monsters had little to fear, after all. She almost had to look away, his gaze mad her feel so naked.

"Rare…So, so beautiful…" He said quietly, with wonder that gave her pause. "How do I know you, beautiful rare one?"

Elijah's fingers tightened in her hair and he pulled her head back slightly, revealing her neck to him more openly. Her heart beat there, wildly. He moved in slowly, but instead of the sting of the bite she anticipated he let his pointed tongue glide up the length of her bared flesh… Up it slid along her skin, like a wet paintbrush on canvas, until it found her lips where it once again slid home.

Hungry for her.

Fuck.

She moaned into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting her own weight to wrap her legs around him. He clasped his hands under her ass, supporting her and then he walked her to the carpet before the fireplace, where he laid her down under the white oak painting.

Nothing was hurried now. Every movement of his was thoughtful and slow like molasses. Like he was playing a seductive song on his piano…stroking her here, gripping her there, playing her notes…

He slid his finger into her mouth and felt her fangs, gingerly. The smallest bit of his blood on her tongue, and she felt high. He watched her, and her eyes rolled.

It was killing her.

Then she felt his thumbs on the inside of her skirt waistband, and felt him pull it off along with her tights. He pulled off her boots when the fabric hit the leather-first one and then the other-and then he sat back and looked at her lying naked before him on the rug. Hayley pushed up on her elbows and looked back at him, boldly. Like the queen of the pack, even though her eyes were back to green. She didn't know how ember light played in them.

His mouth tilted slightly.

He pulled open his pants, roughly.

He leaned over her long legs, nudging them open with his head. He spoke against the tender skin of her inner thigh with warm breath, "How do I know you?"

"You don't know me." She answered in a husky voice, tracking as he made progress up her leg with his lips. His eyes catching hers.

"You taste like I know you. I'm sure of it…"

Hayley swallowed hard. Then she gasped despite herself, when his mouth found her.

"Fuuuuck..."

He slid his very agile and experienced tongue into her. And out. And in again, playing her sensitive hidden ridges like an artist. His hands gripped the pale flesh of her hips, holding her to him…He watched her watch him. He watched her chest rising and falling faster, until she couldn't hold herself up anymore and fell back onto the carpet.

"Ahh, yes. You taste as if I know you…" Elijah hissed.

Now her hands were reaching down to run into his thick dark hair. To hold him where she needed him.

"Eliiiijah…" she moaned on heavy breath.

"Say it again, lovely." He spoke his words into her warm wetness. "Say it again…"

Hayley instead clasped her hand over her own mouth, as if she could keep all her secrets—all their secrets—inside of her. But now she moved against his face like an animal, almost out of control.

Elijah! She screamed in her head.

And she tumbled over, jerking in spasms of pleasure like she had only ever felt with him.

And before she came all the way down, he moved quickly up and pushed himself deeply inside of her with a primal grunt. Her walls clung and gripped his member with each wave. She cried out into the palm of her hand, before he took it in his along with the other, and held them against the floor over her head. His mouth found hers again, and she tasted her own essence mixed with his. Still so familiar…

He pushed into her with long, hard, powerful thrusts. She could only wrap her legs around him and hold on.

"Say my name!" He grunted into her neck. "Say it again!"

Hayley was outside of her body, looking down on the two wild lovers on the floor bathed in warm ember light. She was riding wave after wave of him. She gave into him completely because she had no choice.

"Elijah. Elijah…" She said, as if in a dream. Like the many dreams in which she'd called out to him, only to awaken alone and cold.

He had always been touching her, even when he was out of reach…

And then, just as she was coming again she felt it—a sharp, and thrilling pain! And at once she felt his teeth in her neck—the wash of pleasure that made her body go limp and her vision swirl with colors—and she felt him tense and jerk into her again… and again… and again… until he was still.

His lips came away from her neck, slick with blood. She felt him breathing hard near her ear. She kissed his temple, feeling it beat against her lips…Her hands came down around his heaving shoulders. She stroked him, still floating…

Hayley held him to her for what seemed like the longest time.

Her eyes fell upon Klaus's painting, over his shoulder. Then she shut them tightly.

…She was scared to speak, for fear of waking because this couldn't be real.

It was just the best damn dream she'd had so far. That's all it was. And she hadn't awoken yet to be cold and alone. She was still in his warmth.

And then Elijah pushed his weight up, and hovered his face over hers. He leaned down and placed soft, soft kisses across her brow…the planes of her cheeks…her eyelids. Then on her lips.

So softly, he kissed her… He brought a hand to rub the back of his long fingers down her face. He met her dreamy gaze. His eyes glistened.

Hayley realized his eyes were glistening.

Oh God.

And then he said her name.

"My Hayley."