The One to Steal Her First

Well, I couldn't stop thinking about this, so here is a bit more. And I think, probably, there's more to come. Thanks to all who reviewed - you are wonderful! - and to CreepingMuse, my incomparable beta-reader and one of my very favorite authors here!

Chapter 2

Damon barely slept. His mind was racing. He figured they only had another day, two at the most, before Klaus realized she was gone. But then, Rebekah could shift her alliance back to Team Klaus in an instant. They weren't safe. Elena wasn't safe.

He lay in the dark, his eyes wide open, plotting their next move and tapping his fingers impatiently against his hipbone while he waited for the dawn.

At 6, he showered and dressed. By 6:15, he couldn't wait any longer. "Elena, we should go."

She moaned and pulled the pillow over her face.

"Up and at 'em." He stifled the impulse to wrap his arm around her midsection. How would she react? He settled for taking her pillow.

"You suck at road trips," she grumbled, draping her arm over her eyes.

He smiled indulgently at her. "No, I am awesome at road trips. You suck at mornings. Stefan did not mention this to me."

"No talking about Stefan until I have coffee."

"Fine, but we're on the road before 7. It's not all about red undies, you know. We have things to do. Number one: outrun a life of blood slavery."

She rolled out of bed. She had managed to find her lacy red boy shorts amid the twisted sheets before falling asleep, but was wearing nothing else. Damon's eyes misted over when she turned toward him.

"Don't I get any privacy?" she pouted.

Damon glowed with adoration. "No one as beautiful as you should ever have any privacy at all."

She climbed back onto the bed and placed a sweet kiss on his lips. "Now get on that coffee or grumpy Elena wins."

Damon came up the stairs with a cup of coffee in each hand. He heard Elena's voice, and through the phone, Stefan's, and stopped just outside of their barely open door.

"How's Alaric?"

"Bonnie's redone the spell and Caroline won't let him out of her sight."

"And the stake?"

"No sign of it yet, but... Elena -"

"Stefan, don't."

"I just - I miss you."

Damon heard her inhale slowly. "I miss you, too."

He couldn't stand to hear anymore. He blustered through the door, his studied smirk in place. "Who wants coffee?"

Elena fumbled at her phone. "I have to go." She hung up and made a point of stashing her phone deep in her purse, as far away as she could put it.

Damon reached out and handed her a cup of coffee. "Did he call you or did you call him?"

"I, um, I called him." He had to give her credit for not even trying to hide her guilt. "Damon, I know, but I'm so worried about them, I needed to know they were okay." She looked painfully apologetic. Damon wanted to be angry with her but couldn't.

He took a deep breath, trying to find the strength to chastise her for possibly giving away their location. But instead, he comforted her. "I know this is hard for you. You have to trust that they can take care of themselves. It's time for someone to take care of you, for once." He put down his coffee and took her in his arms. "Did you tell Stefan where we are?"

"No." She melted into his chest and let him hold her. He hadn't realized how much he'd needed the feeling of her arms wrapped around him.

"Good. Are you ready to go?" He kissed her hair, the smell of lavender now mixed with the delicious sweetness that was pure Elena.

She looked into his eyes and he felt the last droplets of hurt over her phone call fall away. "I didn't call Stefan because I regret what happened with us. You know that, right?"

"I do now."

"Because I don't regret it for a second. It's not why I called." The way she squinted slightly, Damon knew there was something she wasn't saying.

"But?"

She began to shake her head, ready to deny it. Damon narrowed his eyes at her, and she wilted against him. "I do miss him, I admit it. And I'm not sure what's going to happen when we get back. If we get back. I don't want to lose you, Damon, but I don't know how to do this, with Stefan and you and -" Her eyes glistened with the beginning of tears.

Damon shushed her gently. "I know. Don't worry." He drew a feather light line along her chin with his finger and tilted her head up toward him, capturing her deep brown eyes in his gaze. "We'll just have to make the most of the time we have alone together." She sighed with relief as he wove his fingers into her hair and drew her lips into a tender kiss. "But part of that has to be keeping you away from the Big Bad Wolf, so let's go."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Omaha International Airport had all of the trappings of a real airport with none of the enticing destinations. Damon stood at the ticket counter, Elena by his side, as the agent rattled off flight after full, unavailable flight. They were getting nowhere.

Elena leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Can't you just compel her?"

Damon feigned shock. He leaned back and buried his lips in her hair, surrounded by her scent. "You would have me do something unethical?" he breathed. "Elena, I'm stunned."

When he drew back to watch her reaction, he was rewarded with the most glorious flush.

"Fine." He turned to the agent, making deliberate eye contact. "Two first class to Frankfurt. I insist." The agent's demeanor softened as she repeated the request back to him, then made the necessary changes.

Elena whispered into his ear again, sending flickers of heat across his skin. "Germany? Really?"

He captured the attention of the agent again. "And a connecting flight to Florence, Italy."

Damon wound his arm around Elena's waist while they waited for their tickets.

Elena stared out the window, her hand clutching Damon's, as the rest of the passengers boarded the plane.

"Relax. We're going to be here a while. And I might need my hand. You know, at some point."

"Okay," she mumbled, her body still bristling with tension, her grip on Damon as strong as ever.

"Why didn't you tell me you were scared to fly?"

"I'm not."

His eyebrows rose in disbelief. "Or?"

She exhaled a trembling sigh. "Damon, I'm not going to ruin your escape plan because I can't handle being stuck in a giant, heavy, metal box improbably soaring through the sky over an enormous ocean." Elena bounced her knee frantically.

Damon turned her face toward his. "Elena, stop. It's going to be fine. Trust me."

"If you were flying the plane, I'd feel better."

He smiled in spite of himself. "Let's trust the pilot, too. We'll be there before you know it. You're going to love Florence."

The sheer persistence of Elena's anxiety was impressive. Half way through the flight she was still rigidly bouncing her knee, still staring out the window, still clutching his hand. The scotch he had requested for her hadn't made a dent, although the three he had downed certainly made it easier to be understanding.

He heard her whimper quietly and couldn't stand it anymore. He slapped his thigh. "That's it."

"What's it?"

"You have to relax. Drastic measures are called for."

She tore herself from the window for a moment. "No, Damon, I don't even really like scotch -"

He smirked and half-closed his eyes flirtatiously. "That's not what I was thinking."

She squinted at him. "What were you thinking?"

Damon slowly licked his lip, then raised his voice dramatically, "You're hurt! Are you bleeding? Here, let me help you into the bathroom."

"What? I'm not -"

He flicked her seat belt open and pulled her up to standing. She shot him a suspicious look as he manhandled her toward the bathroom door.

"Watch it, caveman," she muttered over her shoulder.

"No need to thank me, I'm just here to help." He reached around her waist and pushed the accordion door open, pressing into her back to usher her into the tiny lavatory and then latching the door behind them.

Elena glared at him under the harsh fluorescent light. "What -"

He shook his head with a smirk. "No more talking." He slipped his fingers under her hair and around the nape of her delicate, warm neck, drawing her into his commanding kiss. She was his, he could feel it. She sighed as his hands stretched over her lower back, squeezing her against his hips. His hands roamed her body with reassuring pressure, letting her know he was in control. He could feel the tension melting away, replaced with awakening desire.

Soon his right hand slipped inside the front of her jeans, his knowing fingers headed right where he knew she needed them. She gasped. "Damon, we can't!"

He reared back his head. "You don't get to talk until you stop saying crazy things." With that, he slipped his middle finger further and dipped it inside her. She took a trembling breath as he felt her move closer, ever so slightly encouraging him deeper. His blue eyes blazed into hers as he pulled out again and, using her slick wetness, began to twirl devastatingly slow circles around her swollen nub. He saw her eyelids flutter and her head fall back as she let him take charge. Watching this girl come was his favorite thing in the entire world, without a doubt.

He repositioned his hand, letting his thumb wind continuous circles while he inserted two fingers inside her. Elena swayed on her feet. She was close. "Damon."

His voice rasped. "Don't tell me stop, Elena. You don't want me to stop."

"I want you to -"

Damon's mouth dropped open. The idea of hearing her tell him exactly what she wanted lit him on fire. "Yes?"

"I need you inside me."

The air rushed out of him and he pounced on her lips. His hands rushed to unzip her jeans and pull them down, then lift her onto the small lavatory counter. He unzipped his own fly and her hand was on him immediately, guiding him home. He grabbed her hips, steadying them both as he slid into her. She groaned, bracing herself against the walls so she could strain toward him, enveloping him in moist, tight heat. It was everything he could do not to explode inside her instantly, watching the rapture on her face as he filled her again and again.

And then a different kind of whimper escaped from deep in her throat, full of urgency. He licked along the side of her neck, the tantalizing scent of blood just beneath the surface, and she came. He panted at the sensation of her muscles clenching around him and tumbled after her, his head buried in her hair, his breath sending shivers across her flushed, sensitive skin.

When they were dressed again, he stroked her cheek. "Feeling better?"

"Yup."

"Ready to go back out there?"

She took a deep, calming breath. "Yup."

"Okay, you first." He patted her on the butt as she inched her way around him and out the door.

Damon gave her a few seconds before he followed her. He was contentedly readjusting his shirt and pants as he walked down the center aisle, so it wasn't until he heard Elena's raspy whisper that he knew something was wrong.

She was frozen in the aisle. Someone was sitting in her seat.

"Elijah."