A/N: This has been a hard chapter to write! I must have re-written it like a hundred times, polishing and pondering on almost every word (which becomes tedious work if you have to constantly consult google to find out if a certain phrase can be used in a certain way ;) ). It's one of the chapters I've been working on even after Dreamthrower did her beta-ing, so again: All mistakes still in there are mine, not hers!

I hope you'll like it. Please leave a review and tell me if you did! Your comments always make me ridiculously happy and put a smile on my face, so thanks to all my faithful reviewers!

ELENA

Damon held me down on the gymnastic mat with his weight, pinning my hands above my head, and smirked. "Ready to admit defeat, Buffy?" he asked teasingly, after having succeeded in knocking me down for about the tenth time in a row.

No matter how often we practiced those self-defense moves, the end was invariably the same: Me sweating and panting on my back, him looking all relaxed and very pleased on top of me. Though I couldn't say I minded. These workouts with Damon served multiple purposes: Aside from hopefully making me a little more capable of defending myself, they allowed me to let off steam and took my mind off things for a while – something I had needed tonight. And as I had just found out, they also made for nice foreplay...

"I totally surrender," I muttered breathlessly, shifting slightly so that his weight was pressing in a more delightful way to more agreeable places of my body. He raised his brow in silent acknowledgment of my intentions and slowly lowered his head to kiss me. I closed my eyes, pretending to be lost in bliss. Which I almost was, with him kissing me like that, but I also had a wicked plan, and I knew how to use my weapons, too.

Totally taking him by surprise, I performed the move that would get me out of a position like this, which comprised a sudden lift of my hips and right leg. We had been practicing it so often that this time, I successfully threw him off balance. Quickly I jumped to my feet.

"Playing dirty again, are we?" Damon asked, before he reached for my ankle in a vampire speed move, and pulled hard. I crashed down, but before I could hit the floor, was safely caught in his arms.

"All is fair in love and war, remember?" I asked breathlessly, before I made a move for his mouth.

"Hah – no!" Damon shook his head in reprimand. "I'm not falling for that one again!" He jumped to his feet with predator's grace and pulled me up – only to continue the smooth movement until he had liftted me over his shoulder. "Time for you to cool down," he said, clasping my legs and heading for the door.

"Damon, let me down!" I protested to being carried in such undignified manner. "What are you doing?"

"Putting you in the shower. Now be a good girl and stop fussing, or it'll really be a cold one."

Oh my! I immediatly ceased my struggles. This promised to be good... Dominant Damon was sexy as hell.

After the prolongued shower – which turned out to be pretty hot despite me being anything but a good girl – I was first to make it out of the bathroom and quickly slipped into the T-shirt that Damon usually wore as pajama top. It smelled heavenly, and I decided there and then that I was not going to part with it again. I was sitting and toweling my hair dry when Damon came into the bedroom, too, wearing only the bottoms of his PJs.

"Do you have any idea where... oh – I see you do." He raised his eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. "I'm not saying that I don't appreciate the view," he remarked, his gaze wandering up my bare legs to my thighs, "but do you have any suggestions as to what I'm supposed to put on now that you've stolen half of my PJs?"

"Nothing," I said boldly, ogling his abs. "I'm enjoying the view, too."

Damon grinned smugly and sat on his bed, propping himself against the headboard and folding his arms behind his head. Unlike me, he was never self-conscious about moving about in any state of undress. But no wonder, really. With a body like his, there was nothing to be self-conscious about. It as all firm and toned muscles encased in unblemished skin. A Michelangelo come to life.

"You seem to feel awfully at home here..." Damon observed, probably referring to the fact that I had stolen his shirt, borrowed his comb and even used his toothbrush. Truth to tell, I did. And I had no idea when or how that had come to happen.

"Do you mind?" I asked, wondering if I had taken liberties or was assuming to much. Maybe an invitation to share his bed did not extend to my moving into his room entirely, although I had spent the last three nights in here.

"No, Elena. I do not mind," he said firmly and emphatically. "I have truly never not-minded anything as much as I'm not minding you being here with me. If that's a side effect of Katherine's shenanigans, I might come to be grateful to her after all."

"Don't say that," I scolded, pulling the comb through the tangles of my hair rather vigorously. Damon didn't have any conditioner, and getting the tangles out was always quite a task without it. "I won't ever thank her for making us all aware of the damage vampires can inflict."

"It hadn't crossed you mind before?" Damon asked, nonplussed.

"Well, yes. But apart from the guy who attacked me an Bonnie - which I had finally managed to put to the back of my mind - my encounters with vampires have been pleasantly devoid of bloodshed." Although there had been the occasional occurrence of bloodsucking... something that was rather inevitable with vampires. Another fact I had tried to push to the back of my mind for a long while, albeit less successfully. With all that had happened lately, I had been forced to really consider the ultimate consequences of wanting to keep close company with vampires. Giving them your blood was one thing. Being given eternal life was quite another.

"Come here," Damon said, moving to the edge of his bed and beckoning me to sit in front of him. "You seem to be a little short on patience. Let me do that." He took the comb out of my hand and began to work on my hair – a lot gentler than I had. "Stop worrying about vampire Barbie," he soothed, probably thinking that she was the reason for my being wound up, oblivious to the fact that my thoughts had taken a different path. "She's doing fine. Honestly, she surprised even me. For a newbie vampire, she showed remarkable restraint today."

That was probably true. At least, she had made none of the fuss Stefan had with Bonnie when Matt had come to see her this afternoon. It had been the first time after her transition, and thus altogether a lot to take in, for both of them. Nevertheless, Caroline had appeared to be pretty composed and in control, although she had admitted later that the urge to go for his throat had been there.

"Caroline has always been a control freak," I murmured, starting to relax a bit, although the topic was not exactly suited for calming my nerves. But Damon's hands moving up and down in my hair in a steady rhythm surely were. "She still hopes that the desire to taste his blood will fade with time."

"Well, it won't..." Damon stated flatly, confirming what I had suspected already. I caught his gaze in the mirror that was leaned against the wall. His face was expressionless, which I read as a sign that he was trying to keep his thoughts to himself. "She'll just have to learn to deal with it. That's why I'm advocating the idea of feeding from the vein right from the beginning. She needs to face what she is – and not play human by drinking blood out of a juice bottle and pretend it's something else."

"Given that she has no idea about the donors, she's okay with it, which will make things a lot easier for her. As to the feeding from the vein... have you broached the subject yet?"

"Of course I have. She didn't seem open to the idea, though. Stefan had already talked her into going on a bunny hunt with him." Damon's tone was disapproving, as always, when it came to Stefan's preferred diet.

"Well, that's probably a good idea, too," I said, feeling the need to defend Stefan. He was my brother, after all, and he only meant to help. Besides, he had come round as far as Damon's approach was concerned. It wouldn't hurt Damon to be more compromising and also respect his. "She needs to try all the alternatives."

"Right. All the alternatives," Damon stressed. "Meaning the bloodbags, the bunnies, the bears – and the boyfriend. Maybe some bar prowlers, eventually."

Matt had actually offered his blood. Who'd have guessed that all my friends turned out to be vampire groupies? Weird, but fortunate, considering they all had somehow paired up with a vampire. I couldn't help wonder what kind of future these relationships could have. It was far too early to be thinking of that, because it invariably led to only one possible outcome.

"Hunting squirrels is just a substitute for the real thing," Damon insisted, adamant and strangely passionate about getting his point across. "The thrill of the chase, the feel of power when you take down your victim, knowing that his life is yours for the taking – it's like nothing you can imagine. Vampires are primitive beings in many ways, functioning much more on instinct and impulse than humans do. Trying to suppress this is like putting a lid on a geyser – stupid, pointless and guaranteed to blow up in your face."

I searched his gaze in the mirror, wondering why he was throwing the ugly facts about vampirism into my face like that. It's not like I wasn't aware of them. Whatever the feelings were that I found in his eyes – they were intense. I knew he wanted my blood, just like he knew that I was nervous about giving it. Shouldn't he try to be reassuring?

Having smoothed out all the tangles from my hair, Damon handed me the comb back. My hair was almost dry now, and the effect of the cooling shower long gone. I felt way too hot again. "Why are you telling me that?" I asked, getting up and putting it back in the bathroom so as not to make a mess with his things. Damon was a little bit of neat freak. A cool gust of air whipped into the room, and I stopped at the open balcony doors. A thunderstorm was building up. I could already see lightning flashing in the distance.

"Because I have a feeling that you've started picturing me as a knight in shiny armor lately," Damon replied. "I need to remind you that I'm not." His voice sounded dead serious, and I turned my head to look at him. As if meaning to lighten his dark tone, Damon flashed a mocking smile and added: "I'm the evil dragon."

There, he did it again – presenting himself in a self-derogatory way. "You're not evil," I objected firmly. "I know that you normally don't hold back like you did with me when it comes to feeding. I also know that you are caring, protective and gentle. You just won't let anybody see it."

Taking a step out on to the small balcony, I looked up into the dark sky and the clouds that towered above. I could hear thunder rumbling in the distance, and the wind was picking up. Damon was right about one thing: I had come to see him as my knight in armor. No wonder, given that he was there the entire time, watching over me, encouraging me, lifting me up when I fell and challenging me to move on. In this short time, Damon had become such an important part of my life that I found it hard to imagine it without him. But a future that had him in it came at a price: Eventually, I would have to give up my humanity. Yet 'for all eternity' was so much more of a commitment than 'until death doth part us', and I wasn't sure if I was ready for that. Hell, I wasn't even sure if Damon was – if he was thinking of us in a long-term category at all.

He must have gotten up silently, because I could suddenly feel him behind me. His body was cool to the touch, yet the shivers his nearness sent down my spine did nothing to cool me down. "You think I'm all tame now?" Damon asked, slowly running his hands down my arms before encircling my waist and pulling me against his chest.

Tame? No, definitely not. He was anything but. But maybe that's exactly what I needed. More impulse and instinct. Less thinking.

"My sweet Elena – always looking for the good and soft in everything and everybody..." he stated half mocking, half with curious wonder. What he had not come to realize was that I usually found it, too. I had found it in him.

As if having read my thoughts he added softly: "Yes, I can be gentle, if I choose to be," and proved it by running gentle fingers through my hair. Yet the hand that had been caressing before suddenly clamped into a fist at my nape and pulled my head to the side with carefully controlled force, exposing my throat. "But beneath that domesticated facade," he breathed into my ear, "I'm still a vampire, and unlike certain other vampires around... I bite!" His breath was hot on my skin, his mouth dangerously close to my rapidly pulsing carotid artery, which I knew must be in the center of his attention right now. Teasingly, or maybe meaning to threaten, Damon lowered his lips to my throat, letting his sharp teeth graze the tender flesh. My heart skipped a beat before rapidly picking up pace. A shiver went through me, though not exactly from fear.

"I'm not scared of you, Damon," I managed to say. "Knights are overrated. I know what you are. And I'm not a dainty princess, either.."

"I'm not sure if you're getting my point..." he murmured, sliding the fabric of the shirt down over my shoulder and following it with his mouth. His cheek was rough on my oversensitive skin. His hand, which came to rest just below my breast, was threatening to come into contact with more sensitive areas any moment.

I trembled with anticipation. "Which is...?" I breathed, trying to concentrate on what he was trying to tell me. That he had the power to hurt me, teeth and all aside? Pointless. I was well aware of that, even without his demonstration.

"If you don't like fangs, don't kiss the dragon," he answered, making perfectly clear what I was getting myself into if I intended to stay around. Funny thing, it wasn't so much his teeth anymore that I was concerned about. I had made up my mind about that a while ago. Which didn't mean I wasn't still nervous. I swallowed. "I already did. And I liked it."

I could feel the muscles in his body tense up. "Don't tempt me, Elena!" Damon warned, his voice low and laced with desire. "Unless you're ready to face the consequences..."

"But I am," I whispered back, hoping that my voice didn't tremble too much. I pressed my back against him, molding my body to his and arched my neck further. I simply didn't care anymore what he would do to me. I just wanted him to do it.

Still not trusting my surrender, he let his mouth slowly returned to my throat. His fangs were barely hidden behind the soft and sensuous lips, which - searching, tasting, and savoring - found the soft spot where my pulsating artery was hammering frantically against his tongue. When he pressed his teeth against it to probe my reaction, there was no mistaking my sharp intake of breath for anything but for what it was – a sound of pleasure, lust, excitement.

Damon groaned in response, tightening his hold, and then the sharp tips of his teeth broke my skin. I felt his fangs sink into my flesh and gasped, tensing involuntarily at the brief stinging pain and the feeling of invasion. But the pain was immediately numbed when he started sucking, and replaced by a strange, pulling sensation. All of a sudden, heat was rising from everywhere in my body, setting all my nerves on fire. It was as if every fiber of my being had sprung to life. There was an intimacy to this penetration of my body that was different, yet familiar to the intimacy we had shared before.

His thumb lightly brushed the hardened tip of my breast, which had become prominent beneath the material of the shirt, drawing another moan from my lips. My legs weakened under his sensual assault, and I clung to Damon's arm. Securely wrapped around me, it was the only thing that prevented me from melting to the floor.

The sucking and pulling intensified, and I felt my blood reverse its flow, rushing to him. My head started spinning and my breathing turned shallow – all the more so, when Damon's other hand slipped underneath the hem of the shirt, heading for the one other area where all the heat seemed to be concentrating. The light caress of his fingers was threatening to send me over the edge. Pressure built inside of me, as if something buried deep within me was slowly being pulled into the open.

And then I burst, shattered, totally fell apart. I barely noticed that Damon had stopped feeding. He simply held me tight until the last tremors of the storm he had unleashed slowly ebbed off. His breathing was ragged, too. He turned me around, his hands cupped my face and made me look into his ocean eyes that now were clouded in dark shadows.

I had been wrong. The storm was still there, blazing flashes of light out of black darkness. Our faces were very close now, so close that our breaths mingled. With a hunger that was not for my blood this time, his mouth met mine in a deep, devouring kiss. I returned it with all my heart, consuming him as he had consumed me, and the tiny part of my brain that had not been reduced to its most primitive functions was lost in rapture over the fact that I was unequivocally and undeniably capable of passion.

DAMON

I had died and woken up in my own personal heaven – filled with, buried in and surrounded by angelic and ambrosial bliss. Tasting her incredibly sweet blood sated my hunger like nothing ever had. Drowning in her beauty, her softness and her warmth and seeing her come undone – it was unlike anything I had ever shared with a woman. And admittedly, I had a track record when it came to sexual encounters.

"Sweet Jesus, Elena... do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" I groaned, when we were both able to catch a breath again after tumbling onto the bed and consuming our passion once again. I held her against me, feeling her heartbeat slowing. This time, we were both sweaty and exhausted, but entirely sated. Her head was on my chest, her limbs still entangled with mine. I still couldn't stop touching her, one hand caressing her back and the other combing through her hair. I had felt so smug, knowing that I could rock her world if only she let me, but instead, I was the one who lay shattered, almost believing I could hear violins play. God – why was I even thinking in terms of God, and heaven and angels again?

"Funny that you're the one who's saying that," she murmured, making an effort to raise her head and quirk an eyebrow at me. "After all, I'm the one sporting the bite marks."

I fully re-opened my eyes and slowly propped myself up on one elbow so that I could see her face. It was full of emotions I could not quite decipher. I felt my throat constrict looking at her slender, beautiful body that now bore the evidence of my hunger. I had not shown much restraint. Considering her lack of experience and her fear of being bitten, I should have been less demanding, more careful, more gentle. But again, she had almost stripped me of control. At least I could be reasonably sure that I hadn't hurt or scared her. Her passionate response had clearly bespoken the contrary. "Do you mind them?" I asked, worried that she might feel differently about it now that we were both back to our senses.

"No," Elena assured me, touching my cheek and meeting my gaze. "I don't mind them at all. You were right. I shouldn't have been afraid. This was totally different from what I had expected – amazing to the point of mind-blowing." Her eyes showed nothing but honesty – and wonder. "How could it be so different?"

I felt my muscles relax at her response. "Because what you had experienced before is as different from what we just shared as making love is from rape." I trailed my fingers up her arm to her throat and the few other places where I had sunken my teeth into her sweet and giving flesh. "This..." I said, circling the telltale puncture marks on her incredibly soft skin, "this was me expressing my desire, my hunger and my need for you." And probably something else, that I was not ready to ponder too closely, as it scared the shit out of me.

For once, I was grateful that I had mastered the art of masking my face and preventing any leak of emotion. That was also something I had Katherine to thank for. Because right now, I wouldn't have known how to explain the fear and anguish that would have probably shown in my features if she had noticed. Fortunately, her mind was still busy processing what had just happened to her.

"So it's consent that makes it pleasurable?" Elena mused. "But if humans can so obviously enjoy it, and vampires can learn control it – both could easily co-exist, with no one ever needing to die. You would even expect people to line up and volunteer..."

"But the vampire might not want to control himself," I stated plainly. "He might want to chase, to hurt, to scare and to kill. We thrive on fear."

"Why?" Elena looked at me with revulsion in her face at the thought. Of course – for someone with her capacity to feel compassion, it must be impossible to even imagine that anyone could want to inflict pain and fear. "Is the rate of perverts higher in the vampire population?"

"Well, for one, the rate of vampires who don't value human life is considerably higher. As to the why... basically, it comes down to one simple thing: adrenalin. Remember what I told you about the taste of blood? Its flavor depends on so much – the blood type, the individual note which is influenced by age, nutrition and life-style. But also on the hormones that are flowing in the blood at the time of feeding. And adrenaline has a very special taste to it. You can practically taste the life in it."

"You mean the blood tastes better from people in fear and in pain?"

"It does," I admitted, though I hoped she wouldn't press too much about how I knew, how often I had tried the taste and who I had tortured to get it. I didn't want to lie to her, but she wouldn't like the answers. There had been the occasional bad year. "Adrenalin can even cover other, less pleasant afore mentioned nuances in the blood," I explained, sticking to the chemical facts. "Though I'm not too sure if the taste is also dependent on the levels of hormones in the vampire himself."

She frowned, looking a little unsure all of a sudden. "Would I taste better to you if I kept being scared? Because after tonight, I don't think I will be, next time..."

"What?" I looked at her, aghast. "No! I never wanted you to be scared. I was just trying to explain why vampires might want to chase and torture their victims." As I had tried to get the idea out of her head that vampires could pretend to be blood-drinking humans. She had seemed so preoccupied earlier, and from what she'd been saying, I had gathered that she was still deluding herself into thinking that with a little effort, we all could and should be like Stefan. I had feared she'd expect me to go on the bunny diet, too, or to live on Alys's horrible concoctions. Thank God she hadn't. Meaning to reassure her and lift the mood, I quirked an eyebrow at her. "You know, there are other ways to get people spiced up with hormones. Personally, I much prefer the taste of other emotions, anyway..."

"No need to explain," Elena said, blushing slightly and nestling her head in the crook of my neck again. "I can guess: Lust and ecstasy!"

That's how I would have phrased it – if anyone had asked me yesterday. I usually consumed blood flavored with lust. But after tonight, I wasn't so sure anymore... because hers had still been different: richer, sweeter, and so much more potent. Which invariably led my thoughts back onto the frightening, dangerous trails that I was afraid to explore.

I could not be in love with a human. A fragile, breakable, mortal human. Someone I was bound to lose. If a God existed, he surely must have a twisted kind of humor. Was this my punishment for the sin I had committed by turning Alys? The fear of losing her had driven me insane. She had not wanted eternal life. So I had brutally forced it upon her. Ironically, this had ensured that she would stay with me, but had killed her love for me at the same time.

Now I was in the same situation again with Elena. She wanted to stay human. And as much as I feared losing her – turning her was not an option. The thought of killing any tender feeling she might harbor for me in the process was impossible to bear. I could not live with her hating me.

I was doomed. After 150 years, I had finally gotten my heart back – only to have it broken.

No, don't worry, Damon! It's gonna be okay, I swear! Honestly, experiencing these feelings this is good for you! ;)