A/N: And voila, part three, even? (You see where this is going, right?)

I.

She hadn't stopped being jumpy since she'd gotten back to her room. The full magnitude of what had happened to her had hit her once she'd started back to the hotel. Since the night had begun, she'd a) been cheated on by her vampire boyfriend, b) been attacked and bitten by some random vampire, and c) had some very questionable vampire blood-sex-lust encounter on the beach with her boyfriend's (ex-boyfriend's) brother.

Yeah. She fucking hated vampires right now.

The hot shower spray coursed over her body, and the soap stung as it touched the wounds in her hands and on her neck, but fortunately, it looked as though she was no longer openly bleeding.

Which is good. Because that way, when I see Damon again, he has no excuse for being distracted as I kick his ass up around his ears. What the HELL was that?

She was still shaking. It had been so incredibly intense. One minute she'd been worried about him, watching him fight the demon inside him, that darkness that howled within calling out to him to kill and feed, and then she'd been practically begging him to allow it to feed on her.

And I am…am…so not…into that.

It was true that she'd fed Stefan her blood on occasion, that she'd known the bite of a vampire before in very controlled situations, but it had never turned her on. Stefan had only ever nipped her finger. It had always been a bit clinical and embarrassing. The one time he'd bitten her wrist because he'd needed so much more blood from her, it was true that she'd felt something….

But I am not like Caroline was. I am not into being bitten. Not. SO not.

So why hadn't she run like hell when she'd realized what Damon was about to do? Why hadn't she slapped his face and made him stop when she'd known that her blood was keying him up, getting him…aroused?

Stop it. I don't want to think about this anymore. It's been the night from hell. All I want now is to go into my room and not have to deal with vampires of any shape, size, or color.

She switched off the taps, wrapped a towel around her, and got out to make that wish a reality.

II.

He was, of course, sitting on her bed when she opened the bathroom door.

"No. Get out."

Oddly, his hair was wet and his clothes were changed. Had he, too, taken a shower? She'd been in there a long time…

He didn't move, was being extremely still. His eyes were troubled, but they were blue again, all traces of bloodlust gone.

"You know I'm not going anywhere until we talk."

"I think I have the right to ask you to leave."

"Probably you have more than the right to ask it, but the fact remains…." He gestured slightly, was still again. It struck her that this stillness was an attempt not to frighten her.

She knew how hard it was for him to make any effort at all. Damon was driven by impulse. He did whatever came naturally to him. He was not a creature of forethought or long-range plans. He simply decided what he wanted and took it. If his first tactic for taking did not work, he adjusted and tried again until the object he desired rested in his grasp. He was relentless.

And…he had saved her life tonight….twice…. One of those times by releasing something he desired….

She shifted uncomfortably, pulled the thick hotel towel more tightly around her, relented.

"Okay. But…"

His eyes were serious, too serious, as he waited for her to put conditions on their conversation. She knew that he was waiting for something dire…

"…I'm not going to do this in a towel, so throw me those pajamas you're sitting on."

Something flickered through his eyes, and a smile that was a ghost of a Damon-smile laced with sass and seduction curved his perfect mouth. "Not going to let me have any fun at all, are you?" He pulled the pile of clothing from beneath him and tossed it to her. He tried not to notice the tiny satiny pair of undergarments that slithered over his hand as he did.

She caught it all awkwardly with one hand, careful to keep her towel from slipping, and shook her head. "No. I think we've all had just about all the fun we can stand for one night. Don't you?" And she went back into the bathroom to change.

His head fell back onto the headboard behind him. The sight of her coming from the shower in nothing more than a hotel bath towel provoked him. Her scent, warm and fresh from the shower, assailed him. Her blood sang in his veins, more intoxicating that any alcohol he could try to replace it with. The nearness of her seemed to demand that he touch her, kiss her, taste her again…. He closed his eyes.

"Honey, you don't know the half of it."

III.

Dressed, she opened the door uncertainly and looked at him. She'd pulled her hair up into a ponytail. She had a bandage on her neck. She stood twisting her fingers together a little uncertainly. He had not moved except to rest his head against the high wooden hotel headboard behind him. If it had not been Damon, she might have thought him asleep.

"I'd tell you that I don't bite, but, well…." He opened his eyes and looked at her with sarcastic and self-deprecating humor in his eyes.

Going to have to deal with this part first. He's feeling guilty. Imagine that. Damon Salvatore, guilty.

She sighed and edged toward the bed. Any other night, and she would have piled in with him, leaned on him, let him put his arm around her. They had always been friends if nothing else.

And now….now they were becoming…

She cut that thought off before it could go any farther. She was going to fix this. She was not going to…lose him, too.

He saw the determination in her eyes, and saw her square her shoulders. She came around to her side of the bed and sat down. He turned his head and considered her.

"Awfully brave, that."

"Not really."

His smile was a dangerous Damon smile, wide eyes and challenge accepted. "Are you sure? I mean, hadn't you better be? Because at this distance, Elena, you haven't got a prayer…" And just like that, he had her rolled under him.

"Damon…" Her voice was calm, but it took effort to keep it that way.

"Mmm….Because right now, there's absolutely no one who can protect you. There's no one who can keep me from taking what I want…." He purred as he nuzzled her neck, but Elena noticed that he was careful to stay away from the bandaged shoulder, careful to kiss only unbroken skin. He continued to look directly into her eyes. He's trying to scare me.

She placed a gentle hand on his cheek. "Except you, Damon. Except you."

She was lying alone on the bed, and he was sitting on its edge facing the door. "I'll give you this. You know how to play dirty."

She sat up. "I learned from the best."

He looked back over his shoulder at her, gave her a brief, bitter smile, touched his forehead in salute. "Touché, my dear. Touché." Then he turned around on the bed to face her and crossed his long legs. "Enough." He reached out and gently took her hand in his. He gently stroked the fingers, and she knew somehow that the previous events of this impossibly long night were going through his mind as he ran his fingertips over the tiny wounds there.

"I am…Elena, I…." He stopped, frustration furrowing his brow. Words were not his gift. He was a man of action. "When I…When you...I should have never… but I wish I could make you understand how…" His eyes were full of torment when he looked up at her, and his hand clutched at hers. "I would not have hurt you …or frightened you…or had you see that side of me…for anything in the world. I hope you know that. I…am…sorry…for tonight…"

She squeezed his hand gently. "Apology accepted. And thank you for saving my life. Again. Let's call it even for now, okay?"

They looked at each other for long moments, and he rolled his eyes muttering something obscene under his breath. She leaned forward and drew him into the embrace that she would have given him previously at any time, the embrace of her friend. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in the uninjured curve of her neck briefly before he could stop himself, a little indulgence, and the great relief he felt was almost making him lightheaded. Somehow, they had survived the crisis.

IV.

He held her while she slept. She hadn't asked him to leave, and it was so precious a gift that he hadn't been about to pretend to be noble and throw it away himself. They had talked a little more, but exhaustion had been creeping up on her after everything else, and he'd watched her eyelids drooping more and more until she'd finally been laying on him in half-slumber. When he'd moved to slide away from her, she'd clutched at his shirt and murmured in irritation, so he'd taken that as an invitation to stay. He cradled her head on his shoulder, from time to time delicately brushed a fingertip against her cheek or forehead, studied every minute detail of her profile. At some point, he simply wrapped his arms around her and dozed off himself.

The buzzing of his cellphone in his hip pocket woke him. He fished it out and answered it.

"Yeah?"

"Well, did you find her? I've been going crazy all night! I've been getting these hella weird vibes, Damon. What happened to Elena?"

"Oh, I've got her. In fact, she's right here with me right now." He lightly drew his fingers down Elena's side, something he knew would make her make a noise, and he held the phone close enough for Bonnie to catch it.

"She's with you…right now? Oh. OH. As in right now?" Bonnie's voice went up to a little squeak. Then, "Damon! Why did I see her with blood all over her last night?" Damon grinned, savagely glad the little witch was too far away to make his brain burst.

"I guess that would be for me to know and yoouu to find out, now wouldn't it? Bye, precious."

"Damon Salvatore! If you've hurt her, I will personally destroy you! I'll…"

"Such threats! Check your little voyeur-vision again. I promise you, I didn't do anything she didn't enjoy. Better be careful, though, Bonnie. After all, you might like watching it, too, and then where would you be…"

The witch dissolved into incoherent shrieks, and Damon chuckled darkly, disconnecting the call, pocketing the phone again. Then he looked back down at Elena. She was still sleeping. He sighed. Cheap thrills were still thrills. He closed his eyes and was almost asleep again when he heard her say it again.

V.

"Damon."

Oh yes.

He was instantly awake. His eyes focused on the lovely face so close to his own. Her lips were parted from saying his name, and her head moved slightly on his shoulder.

Oh, darling, dream, dream of me…. But, after everything that happened tonight, is it a good dream? It seems so unlikely that it could be...

And then she arched her body sinuously against his with a sigh, burying her face in his neck.

"Damon," she breathed.

No way is that not a good dream.

He closed his eyes at the contact of her body against his, shivered as she slipped one of her legs over his, as he felt her lips brush across his throat. Instinct had his hands coming up to curve over her derriere, gently molding and caressing, and she purred against him, wiggling to get even more contact. One hand strayed down his chest, lightly brushed his crotch….

In fact, I highly approve of this dream. This is the best damn dream ever.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

Damon felt two different sides of himself warring together. There was the side that knew that Elena was asleep and that he should leave her alone. This side of him believed very strongly that he should get up gently and walk away despite the fact that she was clearly displaying feelings she had not or would not openly acknowledge in the waking world. Then there was the other side. That side also knew that Elena was asleep, but it had some very definite ideas about how she should be awakened. Most of them involved bending her legs over his shoulders for better penetration. As far as that side of him was concerned, she had made her choice even if she wasn't ready to admit it to herself, and it was sick and tired of both of them having to wait to enjoy the results.

He rested his forehead against hers in frustration as she continued to entice him with her dream-demands.

VI.

Elena was dreaming. In her dream, her lover had returned. He was stronger now, almost like a dark god who consumed her, and she tumbled with him, gloried in his power. She called out to him, and he took her. His hunger for her was relentless. He did things to her she had never even had the courage to dream of….

He had watched her in the darkness, seduced her with feather-satin touches, and the tenderest of kisses. He loved her enough to give her away, not to lie and give pretty words and then stray with another. Now, though, she wanted more. She needed him in full, wanted him to erase all her hurt, all the betrayal of that false love she had once had. She called out to him...

Where was he? She would have him. She would claim him as he had claimed her. She opened her eyes to look for him…

VII.

And there he was. There were those hot blue eyes she'd been longing for. There was that mouth she craved, that she wanted devouring hers. She sighed.

Damon opened his eyes at the sound. "Elena," he choked out. There was a question and an apology in it. Oh surely he was in trouble now.

She ran her fingers through his hair, sighed again, and pulled him down into the kiss.

Damon gave in. He let himself be seduced. He took the perfect lips that were offered to him. He couldn't stop himself if he tried.

Need this. Want this. Going to have it…NOW.

He rolled her beneath him, felt her legs part to accommodate the weight of him settling there against her, was already pulling the tank top of her pajamas up and off her before his brain kicked in again at all.

You can't do this. Not this way. Not with her. She's not a quick fuck in a side alley, a one-night drink-and-toss.

He slapped the voice away, pulled back to look at his prize. She arched slightly as he ran a hand down her torso, back up, cupped one of her perfect breasts.

Knew she'd be like this, knew she'd be, knew it… Have to taste her again, have to…

He bent his head took the peak of her breast deep into his mouth, and she writhed and mewled, her hands clutching at his shoulders, at the sheets, as he suckled with slow, deep pulls.

"Yes, oh God, Damon, yes…"

The voice was back with a vengeance. If she's still in a dream, then do you have the right to intrude?

I have the right to make her fantasies come true if they're about me, don't I?

You're going to destroy everything if this is like the kiss in the car.

But this…this is…and she's wrapped around me wet and wanting…I can smell her wanting…and she wants me….

Then wake her up and give her the option. You can't be this. You can't do this. Not to her. Not and survive it.

Shaking, laughing, he rolled away and was suddenly standing at the door to the room. She moaned in confusion at the loss of his body, at the loss of his kisses. She lay sprawled in a lusciously abandoned curl, her breasts still gleaming with the moisture of his mouth as she looked at him with awakening eyes. He ran his hands over his face as he fought the urge to simply say, "What the hell?" and go back to the bed to finish what his body was demanding. He reached behind him for the doorknob and with a most uncharacteristic loss of grace fumbled it open.

"Twice in one goddamn night. Twice in one GODDAMN night. And with the same woman. I am losing my fucking mind."