OBVIOUSLY: I do not own "The Vampire Diaries" or any of its characters. Insert witty comment here that none of you really care about since you hate me.
Oh my god, guys. I don't deserve your respect. I don't even deserve your reading this A/N right now! I am scum, plainly and simply. So, so sorry. First it was a lack of enthusiasm/inspiration that got in the way of updating. When the show came back from the hiatus, I had a hard time getting back into the mindset of my little world here. Then, school (particularly finals) got in the way. After finals were over, I had to bring my computer in to be fixed and that took a number of weeks. And of course, when I finally got it back, I had very little time before I fled the country. Just kidding. But I am abroad. Partially to hide from the pitchfork-and-torch-wielding mob that might have formed since you all should hate me. And partially to study. Okay, mostly to study, but the mob thing too. Again, guys, I'm really sorry, and I'm not trying to make excuses, I'm merely trying to explain why it took me so long. It's all on me, and I'm really very sorry about that. I decided to split up what I have written into two chapters so I can give you guys more than one dose. I have so much schoolwork to do (which is totally killing me since it is SUMMER… I really cannot adapt to this crazy schoolwork-during-the-summer lifestyle) but I'm really trying to keep working on this much as I can. Oh my god. I should shut up now, right? Right. On with the show.
Blah-blah, wit-wit, here is sex:
At first, Elena was slowly, diligently following him from the kitchen, but it gradually became a playful race to the bedroom. Of course, he could have sped up to vampire speed and crossed the finish line before she could bat an eye, but he chose to play along, She wasn't drunk per se, but the dark, smooth wine certainly intensified the romance as the familiar and unyielding lust built up between them.
Elena giggled as she tried to pass him on the stairs, but he pushed his arms out to block her. She faked left, and when he tried to stand in her way, she ducked to the right and slipped under his arm.
She made it to the darkened room first.
He had her against the wall and pushed his mouth onto hers as he pulled her dress up to her waist. His tongue slid between her lips and he savored the taste of the pinot noir fresh on her tongue. Elena couldn't think straight as he kissed her, his mouth open wide, his tongue probing hers and swirling around it with more power than she thought anyone, even a vampire, could put into a kiss. Normally when Elena kissed someone, she couldn't help but compare him to those that had come before him. She had compared Stefan to Matt, Matt to those before him… But with Damon, she simply couldn't compare his kiss to anyone else's. It wasn't a conscious decision not to compare him; Damon just wouldn't let her. It wasn't through compulsion or persuasion—Damon was just that good.
His hands found her thong and broke the kiss only to pull it down her legs and over her black heels. She kicked it away and he rose back to kiss her again. He wasn't patient enough to do one thing at a time—while his tongue explored the back of her mouth once again, he fumbled with his belt, finally unbuckling it and unbuttoning his pants.
Elena moved her hands to his waist to push his jeans down, but he caught her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand. He had been very, very patient all day. He'd controlled himself when she was nearly naked in her bedroom. He'd controlled himself when he'd dropped her off at home, even looking as absolutely gorgeous as she had. He'd controlled himself when she walked into the kitchen, looking even more beautiful (if it were possible). He'd controlled himself when he was romancing her at dinner. Now, he decided, he was through controlling himself—he'd rather control her.
Damon overcame the handicap of using one hand quickly and pushed his jeans down so that his almost aching hard-on was fully out. He ran his free hand up her thigh and brought his lips to her ear. "You're so hot tonight," he whispered. His breath tickled her ear and raised the hairs on the back of her neck. "It was hell fighting the urge to just take you on the table." She moaned as he stroked her thighs with his fingertips. His hand was so close to her mound that she could feel the heat of his fingers, but it was nothing compared to the heat he felt radiating from her.
Elena was impatient. She struggled to pull her wrists from Damon's grip, but to no avail. He was in charge now. He grinned at her pathetic effort when they both knew damn well she had no chance at freeing herself. They both also knew that, truthfully, Elena didn't want to free herself. The thought of being under Damon's complete control—physically, at least—was turning her on just as much as the wine, or the chase, or the feeling of his fingers on her skin. And that's why she continued struggling. Whether or not she'd admit it, she got off on his total dominance.
And of course, he was getting off on it too. The impatient, desperate look on her face, the way she bit her lip and threw her head back in eager anticipation, was all that was keeping him from giving in to his urges then and there. He savored her frustration. By now, Elena had stopped trying to free her hands and instead was trying to push herself down as much as she could, to push her groin against his fingers and close her legs around them. She told herself to be coy, to be seductive, to play hard-to-get somehow, but it was hopeless. She didn't have that kind of discipline. She was utterly consumed by the desire, no, the need for his touch on her starving, wet cunt.
Elena thought of the first time, of his insisting that she ask. Without hesitation, she groaned. "Damon, please," she begged.
Her eyes were shut tight with aggravation, so she didn't see his satisfied smirk. He had to admit, he wanted it just as badly as she did. But he wasn't about to give up yet. "Please what, Elena?" He drew the name out with particular sensuality, knowing that the sound of her name on his lips drove her wild.
Her reaction did not disappoint. She bucked her hips toward him. His cock, if it were possible, stiffened even more. Elena was past the point of self-consciousness, of stupid pride. She tried to articulate her words as best she could. "I need you inside me," she whined.
Damon was going crazy on the inside, but he took deep breaths to keep his composure, though he knew they did nothing. Still, he always felt the need to breathe around Elena. He felt life all around him whenever she was there, and he clung to it desperately then just as he always did in her presence. She was still pushing her hips forward as he drew his fingers away abruptly.
"No!" she argued, and Damon smiled at her plea. She was at the end of her rope. Swiftly, energy built up inside her and she exerted it all at once. She wriggled wildly in his grip, trying to pull her arms down, even trying to scratch at his hand with her fingernails, but it was no use. At the same time she was straining her arms to move toward him, taking a baby-step forward and trying to close the gap between her moist lips and his face. Her whole body was fighting his hold on her, but there was no hope. Elena was panting wildly and about to burst, swinging her head back and growling with frustration.
Damon's eyes widened as the feeling took her body over, as she writhed and tensed and twisted before him. He licked his lips as he ran his hand from her hip to her knee and pulled her thigh up onto his hip. With both of his hands occupied, he entered her forcefully and at once her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open in the loudest cry he'd ever coaxed from her. He pushed into her again, deeper this time.
"Damon," she gasped. She couldn't get enough of him. Her pulse was racing and he felt so good as he pushed into her. He slid in and out of her smoothly and at an easy pace. Then, through gritted teeth, she begged, "Harder."
Damon grinned and indulged her. He pumped into her a little further, and quickened his pace slightly. A tiny smile appeared on her lips and she pushed forward, trying to get even closer to him. She was still trying to pull her wrists from his hold.
"Faster," she demanded breathlessly.
Damon's smile widened and he moved to whisper in her ear, though the feeling of her around his cock was so amazing that the words came out in a grunt. "You sure?" he teased her.
She clenched her jaw and moaned again. "Damon, faster," she managed to reply. "Please," she added.
The magic word, he thought. And from Elena's lips it was an aphrodisiac. "Baby, you asked for it," he said, burying his face in her hair for a moment as he picked the pace up considerably. When he heard her gasp, though, he had to see her face. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted as she cried out.
"Fuck! Damon!" His name echoed through the old house like a peal of thunder. She closed her eyes tight and he brought his mouth to hers and drove his tongue inside just as forcefully as he was fucking her. Elena was ravenous. As soon as she felt his tongue in her mouth she closed her lips around it and sucked on it longingly.
He groaned against her mouth, and she stopped to take a deep breath. Her face was wrought with the overwhelming feeling of his cock pumping into her so quickly. "I… I told… you, Elena…" he muttered smugly between thrusts. He was dying to let go of her wrists so he could pull her even closer to him, maybe hold her up so she could wrap her legs around him—then he could really hit some sweet spots.
But as he worked the ideas over in his head, she spoke again. "Harder." It was barely a whisper. Of course, he'd heard it clearly, but he could hardly believe it.
"What?" he asked her, somewhat confused.
She bit her lip for a moment between staggering breaths. "Harder, Damon!" she repeated herself, this time shouting.
He was taken aback, and hesitated a moment before he could do anything. But it was only a moment. And then he pushed into her as far as he could go. He hadn't planned on letting her wrists go yet, but the near-scream that came from her was too much. "Shit, Elena," he murmured as he brought his hand down and brought it to the back of her neck. She immediately wrapped her arms around him and dug her fingernails into his back. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pressed his forehead to hers. They stared into each other's eyes as he pushed into her with what was nearing inhuman force and speed. "Am I… hurt—hurting… you?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"No," she muttered. As he let her hair go and pulled her other leg up she threw her head forward and bit down between his neck and shoulder and muffled her shouting slightly against his skin. Her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist now.
It took everything he had not to bite her back. He'd spent many years perfecting the art of keeping his fangs and true visage under wraps, even in the most… tempting of situations. If he didn't want them visible, then they weren't. It had been that simple for decades. But now, the control seemed to be slipping away as Elena's perfect little teeth clamped on his neck. He couldn't risk it. He pulled away from the door and cupped her ass in his hands. The loss of support on her back surprised her enough to pull her head back, just as he had hoped.
He stood there with her and pulled her down to meet every thrust. Her nails scratched his back. Her legs tightened around him. She leaned in to try and kiss him but all she could bring her mouth to do was bite. She bit down on his lip. He groaned as she drew blood. She hadn't meant to, and it wasn't much, but he bled just the same. And maybe she didn't notice, or maybe she didn't care, but she sucked on his lip.
And Damon heard the faintest sound from her throat. It was one that a human never would have heard—especially over their relentless panting. But he heard it, and he knew just what it was. It was the tiniest hum—just a trace of an mm…
"Oh, fuck, Elena…" he said through his teeth. In an instant they were horizontal. She hardly had the time to realize her back was against the bed—where he'd wanted her all along. He drove into her and moved his fingers down to her clit. As he massaged the little bud, he sent her reeling. In fact, he was so close and overwhelmed himself that he could hardly believe he had the ability to concentrate on her clit at all. Still, he worked at it relentlessly. "Come for me," he demanded, while simultaneously trying to delay his own release a little.
She grabbed the sheets beneath her and held them in a white-knuckled grip. Her legs were still wrapped around him and she clung to his waist as he sent her over the edge. Her whole body shook and her walls pulsed around Damon's length and head as he kept thrusting into her. "Oh my god," she gasped as her orgasm sent tremors over her body. "Oh, Damon," she said, releasing the sheets and wrapping her arms around his neck. He buried his face in her soft, sweet hair and breathed hard against her neck. "I love you," she said between heaving breaths, "so, so much." She twisted her fingers into his hair and rode out the orgasm.
Her words—and her fingers—were beginning to push him over the edge. "Elena—oh—I…" he started as he pulled out of her suddenly and quickly, though he couldn't stand the idea of not being inside her. He wanted more of her, and he needed to get himself under control. Damon enveloped her in his arms and held her close against his chest, pressing kisses against her forehead, and down her cheek, and on her lips. "I love you more than you know."
She smiled. "I would never have pegged you for quite this sweet, Damon," she said. He started to laugh. "What's so funny?"
He shook his head as he continued the almost giddy laughter. "You're going to be mad at me," he explained.
Her lips made a twisted little smile. "Tell me!" she insisted.
He spoke as he rolled her onto her back. "I don't think we're where you think we are."
Elena raised an eyebrow at him playfully, and then her eyes widened as she sat up and took in the room for the first time. It had been too dark at first, and by time her eyes had adjusted she had been far too overcome with ecstasy to realize it.
They were in Stefan's room. She clapped a hand over her mouth but Damon saw her eyes smile. He rolled his eyes and laughed at her. "I knew you'd love it."
Her eyes widened and she slapped his shoulder with the hand she'd been using to cover her mouth, but the smile remained. "Shut up! I can't believe you didn't say anything!"
"Oh I said plenty, baby. I think you know by now that you do that to me," he said as he wiggled his eyebrows at her.
Elena tried to pout but it was lost in her unyielding smile. The wine still had her swimming and after the way Stefan had been acting, she had little regard for his feelings. "You know what I meant, pig," she replied. She leaned down to him and placed a kiss on his nose.
"Mm-hmm," he nodded. "You said a mouthful too, darling," he said in the same snarky tone. She blushed. "Oh now you're bashful?" he teased. He rolled her over onto her back again and propped himself up on his elbow to let his face hover over hers. "Screaming my name in his bed," he whispered with a grin. "More than I could ask for."
"You asked for it plenty," she reminded him.
He kissed her. "I believe we can call them suggestions," he corrected her. "You, on the other hand, did not ask or suggest. You demanded, missy." She raised an eyebrow at him in confusion. "Harder… faster… harder…" he mocked her earlier words with heaving breaths. She blushed once again. "It was very sexy," he whispered into her ear, and then nipped at the lobe.
Her smile was shy. "I couldn't really help it," she admitted timidly.
Damon closed his eyes and inhaled as though he were breathing her in. "I'm glad," he said. "I was going a little crazy keeping those hands of yours away," he said, taking hold of one and lacing their fingers together, keeping his composure as well as he could.
Elena squeezed his hand gently and let her free fingers tiptoe down his chest. "Why's that?" she asked. He nearly shivered at her light touch and gave her a questioning look, silently asking for elaboration. "Why would it be hard to keep them away?" she asked, her voice filled with feigned innocence that made his hard-on throb. Or it might have been the fact that her fingers were now wandering down his happy trail.
But whatever the cause, the effect was prominent. He slid his hand up her thigh but she stopped it halfway. He pouted as she shook her head and stood up.
"Not in here, Damon," she explained, and extended her hand to help him up. He sighed and took it, following her out of Stefan's room and into his own. She switched the light on and looked at him, pants unbuckled and barely hanging onto his hips. Elena reached around her neck to untie the halter strap of the dress. "Let's get rid of this pesky thing," she said as she unzipped the little blue number and let it slide off of her body.
Damon smirked and walked toward her, and in an instant he had her pinned on the bed. "I wouldn't mind slipping into something more comfortable myself," he said, sliding his hand down her belly. She pushed him up and loosened his tie with a grin. He yanked the tie off and she laughed as she struggled with the buttons of his shirt. He quickly reprieved her and rid himself of the grey button-down.
"Your bad-boy black tee-shirts are easier," she laughed as he peeled off a white undershirt to reveal his perfect chest and abs.
He grinned. "I could put one on if you'd like," he said.
Elena narrowed her eyes playfully. "Come here," she demanded.
"Yes ma'am," he agreed happily. He moved toward her and she grabbed his jeans, yanking them down over his knees. He kicked them off and quickly removed her little black strapless bra before laying her down on the bed.
He hovered over her with his usual intensity, the tip of his hard cock leaving a tiny trail of pre-cum on her hip bone. He lowered himself onto her and pressed his moist lips against her neck, breathing in the smell of her hair, her blood, her skin, her arousal. It all combined to make the most incredible scent—certainly the most enticing one he'd ever noticed in a woman. But then, Elena couldn't be compared to other women. She was in a class of her own. And beautiful, too—god, was she beautiful, he thought. He was getting lost in his thoughts, so wrapped up in her perfection that he nearly forgot about his aching erection until she pulled him toward her by the hips. "You feel so amazing," she muttered as she tried to guide him to her.
"You don't feel so bad yourself," he said, attempting a witty retort through staggered breathing that was too honest. He brought his cock to her entrance once again and pushed himself inside her. She gasped and threw her head back as he entered and began pushing, increasing his pace little by little. It only took a few moments to bring him to capacity. "Fuck, Elena," he muttered under his breath as he pumped into her almost as quickly as he had been in Stefan's room. And all at once, she began pulsing around his dick again, pushing him to climax. They came together without a word between the two of them, just the gasping breaths they were each heaving.
They lay there together for a few minutes in silent bliss before Elena could bring herself to say what needed to be said. "I have to go," she muttered.
Damon shut his eyes woefully at the thought. "Stay," he said.
She pouted. "I can't. Jenna is being way too cool about all this; I don't want to take advantage." She sat up slowly.
"I'll drive you," he insisted.
"I'm not drunk," she argued.
He mulled the thought around in his mind for a moment, his eyes moving back and forth as though they were following it. "You're not sober," he replied decidedly.
Fair, she thought. "Alright," she agreed. "More time with you, anyway."
Elena was relieved that Jenna and Jeremy were already asleep when she arrived back at the house. She took a quick shower somewhat regretfully. She'd grown to hate washing Damon's scent off of herself, but took comfort in knowing it would only be a matter of time until he smothered her in it once again.
Tomorrow was Grams' funeral. Elena could hardly believe it. Bonnie seemed to be beyond consolation or comfort. The presence of Sheila's death was ominous, and try as she might, Elena couldn't shake the incessant and overbearing memory of the days after losing her parents.
She dried off and lay down in her bed naked, having recently found it the most comfortable way to sleep. She was so comfortable in her own skin. As she was imagining the feeling of Damon's arm draped over her chest, or his hand running along her thigh, she heard the creak of floorboards behind her. She turned and opened her eyes to see Damon standing there, ridding himself once again of his shirt and jeans, under which he hadn't bothered to wear anything.
Elena smiled sleepily and pushed the sheets down beside her to let him in. She turned over again and he settling himself behind her, pulling her firmly against his chest. He kissed her neck and nestled his head beside hers, breathing against her hair and skin. "Goodnight," he whispered, and placed his hand on top of hers.
She wove her fingers into his and felt his ring, the only thing worn between the two of them. She kissed it and closed her eyes. "I love you."
Soundtrack Listing for Chapter 8:
"If You Want Blood (You've Got It)," AC/DC
The chase - "he needed to get himself under control"
"Love is Strange," Mickey & Sylvia
Damon knows something Elena doesn't - Elena's fingers tiptoe down his chest
"Maps," the Yeah Yeah Yeahs
"But whatever the cause, the effect was prominent." - heaving gasping breaths
"Dream a Little Dream of Me," the Mamas & the Papas
Elena's house
Read and review if you'd like. I'm not going to beg because... well, I guess we've been through it. Once again, a hundred thousand apologies. Look forward to the next chapter soon : )
