A/N: I finally got around to uploading this and I gotta say, I'm very excited for y'all to read it. First, though, a little bad news (or good news to some, since you've been asking), I will take a small break from this and go back to working on "Second Chances" for a while. But fret not, I already have fun things planned for when I come back ;) And also, I think I'm taking my leave with a nice one , so I hope you won't be too mad at me. I think this has actually been my favorite chapter to write thus far, so I hope you like reading it just as much. Alright, enough talky talk, here we go. Love you guys! Enjoy :)
The twelfth chapter, in which our heroine boldly goes where she has never gone before
Elena buckled her seatbelt. She felt tense. She knew this wasn't technically a date but somehow she still felt a certain nervousness taking hold of her. Granted, it had been a long time since she had gone on an actual date, since she had experienced those tingles and that fluttering of her hands and granted, this was only dinner with a friend, but for some reason the jumpiness Elena felt now reminded her of the sensations she thought she remembered from back then. She was wearing a silk dress that came down to her knees and was colored in a deep shade of green that she thought complemented her skin tone perfectly. She had been happy with her choice at first, but now she wasn't so sure. When she had stood at the top of the stairs and descended slowly towards Damon who had been waiting for her at the bottom, he had looked at her with an inscrutable expression on his face but she had been sure that she could at least make out surprise as it had flickered across his features.
"Something wrong?" she had asked, self-consciously smoothing out the fabric over her curves.
"No," he had said, almost as if taken aback by the fact that she was talking to him, then he furrowed his brow. "Why do you even have such a dress here, Miss 'we're on the run'."
"You said to dress nicely," she had complained by way of an explanation, to which he had only nodded, giving her a once over. "See, no stockings though," she had added, lifting one of her bare feet and grinning at him almost proudly. And he had laughed and it had given her a sense of accomplishment.
"You look beautiful," he had acknowledged while opening the front door for her and an odd shiver had run down her spine.
When she had walked to the car, the wind had pressed the soft fabric against her skin and ruffled the skirt and let it dance lightly around her legs and she had felt beautiful, too, but now she was sitting in the passenger seat and the strange nervousness seemed to raise her body temperature and she started to wonder if maybe wearing silk hadn't been such a good idea after all.
"Here we go," she heard Damon say as he dropped down in the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. She gave him a hesitant smile, hoping she didn't look quite as terrified as she was.
They drove down the dirt road into the forest in silence. At some point he veered off onto an even smaller road that Elena hadn't even noticed coming here. It looked more like a path for horses than an actual road intended for cars. She felt them climb higher in altitude but only slowly, not enough to tilt the view outside the window but enough to make her feel heavy against the car seat. She watched the trees move past the window and tried to get a sense of direction but failed miserably. After they'd been driving for about twenty minutes, the trees parted again and yielded to a small clearing that ended abruptly when the cliff dropped off towards the ocean.
As soon as the car had stopped, Elena stepped out and walked up to the edge, mesmerized by the view. To the right she saw nothing but woods, but to the left, far away and far below them, she saw a small town bordering on the beach, the houses twinkling like gold in the warm light of the setting sun. The ocean stretched out in front of her, impossibly far, glistening brightly like a moving carpet spun of silver. She could faintly hear the crashing of waves below her, heard the wind rustling the trees around her and a few seagulls crying out above their heads, but other than that it was silent. No human voices, no car traffic, no electrical buzz.
She felt rather than heard Damon standing next to her and without turning around, she breathed: "This is amazing."
"Acceptable alternative for your birthday dinner?" he asked to which she just nodded.
"Where are we?" she asked, taking another step towards the edge, trying to see anything she would recognize, but failing.
"Come," Damon said and waved for her to follow him as he started walking into the woods to their right. The trees were rather far apart and only little underbrush impeded their progress. After about five minutes of walking, they reached the bend of the cliff and now she could look down and see a small beach with a single beach house and children playing in front of the porch.
"It's the cliff behind the house," Elena exclaimed in realization.
"Yep," Damon answered. "I used to come up here with my brother when we were little. You can actually climb from over there." He pointed to a lower, grown over area at the end of the beach. "But I didn't want to ruin your nice dress," he added with a wink.
Elena looked back down to where her kids were just running towards the house, where a blonde woman was standing on the porch, ushering them in. She had to smile. "It was a good idea, bringing us here," she finally said. "They're happy. I'm glad they don't have to feel the weight of the situation we're in. Thank you."
"You're welcome," Damon replied. "Let's get you fed," he finally said in a lighter tone - which elicited a small laugh from the woman standing next to him – before he turned around and walked back towards the clearing where they were parked.
He fetched a blanket and a picnic basket from the trunk and set up near the edge of the cliff. When Elena sat down, she was immediately met with a glass of champagne. "Thank you," she said coyly, taking the bubbly drink from him. As the liquid travelled through her body, she instantly felt her arms and legs go heavier from the alcohol, reminding her that she hadn't eaten enough during the day.
"So," he started, while loading her plate with antipasti. "You practically know my whole life story. What about you?"
"What about me?" she asked, hungrily eyeing the pickled peppers, the thinly cut pepperoni, the mozzarella and tomatoes covered with balsamic vinegar, the plump olives and everything else he was piling onto her plate.
"What's your story?" he asked, filling her glass again. "Girl next door? Russian spy? Illegitimate daughter of some famous Hollywood star?"
She had to smile. "Unfortunately, no," she answered before falling silent again. He didn't urge her on, but his expectant silence was enough to make her finally cave. "It's really not a fun story," she explained, hoping that he would get the hint and change the subject. She wasn't sure however if she had that hope for herself or rather for him. The idea of telling anyone about her past was terrifying. The idea of telling him in particular was both more and less frightening. He probably saw her, like everybody did, as the carefree wife of a rich man and at least that was an image she could live with, one that she had gotten used to.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he relented and to her own surprise it wasn't only relief that she felt but also a little bit of disappointment. "But whatever you want to tell me, I'd like to hear," he added. "Just give me the short version." And with a grin he let an olive disappear between his lips.
Elena heaved a heavy sigh. "I was born in a small town. My parents died when I was very young. Things didn't go well for me after that." She looked out at the ocean, now a sprawling, dark, vast body of water. The sun was setting behind them and the darkness was falling quickly all around. The small ocean-side town was already illuminated by sparkling lights and the occasional lonely fisher boat blinked among the dark green rolling waves. The sky above her still had a slightly rose tint to it, but the further she looked, the more the rose turned to purple and at the horizon it was already getting difficult to distinguish between the dark blue sky and the grey shade of the water.
"That was a really short version," Damon commented, biting into a piece of ciabatta covered with pecorino cheese.
Elena smiled slightly. "Well you know, there's not much to tell. I was moved around a lot, between distant family members and finally foster care. Not everyone treats you well when there is no one left to care about it." She could feel his eyes on her but didn't dare to look around. She knew he wanted to ask her to elaborate but was glad when he didn't. "Things started looking up when I turned eighteen. I left and I met Mason. He was on a business trip and I was a girl he chatted up in some hick bar. I knew it couldn't be anything serious and when he made promises of coming back for me and taking me away with him I smiled and nodded, but I knew it wasn't true. But he did. He came back. And he took me with him to his big house and his expensive dinners and his fancy parties. And when his mother threatened to disown him, he asked me to marry him. I know people think he's not a good father. But he takes care of us. He promised me that I'd never have to go back to that place and he kept his promise. I haven't met many people in my life who have kept their promises." She didn't dare to look up. She waited for Damon to say something, not sure if she wanted him to or not. When he stayed silent, she continued at last. "Everyone thinks I married him for his money but that's not true. I married him because he gave me hope. Hope is such a strong feeling, especially when you're not used to it. I hadn't felt hope in so long that I mistook it for love, it was that amazing. We were happy in the beginning. I mean I was. And I think he was, too. He smiled a lot back then. I don't know when he stopped. And I can't remember when I lost hope again." She looked at the now black water in front of her. "Doesn't that sound depressing?" she half laughed. "It's not that bad. He's a good man. I'm lucky."
"He's lucky, too." It was the first time Damon had spoken since she had started to recount her tale and his voice startled her.
"I'm not sure that's true," she said quietly, pulling her knees up against her chest.
"I'm sure," he returned and to her surprise his voice was firm and sincere.
"That's very kind of you to say," she said, turning to him.
"What makes you think it's not true?" he asked and despite the darkness she could make out the curious look on his face.
"He should be with a woman who fits into this lifestyle, you know. Someone who likes organizing charity events, someone who likes going to fancy restaurants and who is impressed with rich people and their lives. I'm not like that. Not really. I try really hard, but it feels forced." She looked down at her feet. "Sometimes I feel like I'm unthankful. He has given me a life that I could have never dreamed of and I don't even appreciate it."
"We don't always want what we should want," Damon said and it made her look up, made her look at his eyes that sparkled in the dark and looked at her with such intensity that she thought they saw right through her to her very core.
"No, I guess we don't," she agreed, feeling a little light-headed, before turning back to look at the dark waters again. "Sometimes I think he married me just to piss off his mother," she laughed drily.
"I don't think so," Damon responded. "I think he married you because he saw that you could be more than a trophy wife."
"What do you mean?" she asked, turning towards him.
"I don't know. I've worked for many men like him and I've met all their wives and girlfriends and secret lovers and none of them are like you. You have a fire inside you, an inner strength and resilience. You have an opinion. Men in his position aren't often faced with women who stand up to them."
Elena smiled slightly and then turned back towards the ocean. "That's definitely not why he married me," she said. "He hates it."
"He hates that you have an opinion?" Damon questioned incredulously.
"He doesn't care if I have an opinion. He hates it when I voice it," Elena clarified, frustratedly ripping at a few leaves of grass next to her.
"Then why are you still with him?" she heard him say and she stilled in her movements. "I'm sorry. That was too far," he backpedaled instantly.
Yes, it had been too far, Elena thought, but she didn't mind. If this man asked, she would probably tell him all her secrets. She didn't know how he had managed it, but he had gotten her to trust him completely. He made her feel incredibly safe. And at the same time this realization terrified her. Putting her trust in people had barely ever not backfired. "My life would have been much worse without him," she answered. "I may not be as happy as other people are, but I am happier than I ever thought I would be."
Damon didn't respond and so they were quiet for a long while. Elena simply sat there, feeling the still warm air ruffle her hair and tickle her skin, smelling the mixture of salt water and pine trees and listening to the steady rhythm of waves crushing against the rocks beneath her. "You know what's going to make you even happier?" she finally heard his voice behind her.
"No, what?" she asked and turned around with a smile.
"You were promised tiramisu," he stated and got up to head towards the car.
"Oh, that's right!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "I was promised the best tiramisu, if I remember correctly. You better not let me down."
"Has my cooking ever let you down?" he asked from where he was standing by the trunk.
"There's a first time for everything," she returned, smiling widely.
"We'll see about that," he countered as he returned and handed her a bowl.
Elena took a spoonful of the creamy substance in her mouth and pressed it against her tongue. She had to close her eyes, it was so heavenly. The mascarpone cream was light and fluffy, a hint of vanilla completed the soft taste. The cake was spongy and she could tell that it hadn't simply been soaked in coffee and rum. There was more to it, but she couldn't figure out what it was. The cocoa was dry and somewhat bitter and the perfect counterbalance to the sweet cream. When she opened her eyes again, she looked over at Damon warily.
"Come on, say it," he prompted her with a smug smile. She rolled her eyes to which he only responded with an encouraging nod of the head.
"Fine," she gave in. "This is the most amazing tiramisu I've ever tasted."
A proud grin covered his face. "I'm glad," he said. "Amazing is what I aim for in life." She chuckled and turned away again, slowly and deliberately enjoying her dessert while watching the lights of boats crossing each other's paths on the blackness in front of her.
When she was finished, she put the bowl away and lay down on the blanket looking up at the sky. She had done star-gazing before, had frequently escaped to the roof with her friend Jenna when she was younger, but she had never seen anything quite like this. They were far away from the city and far away from the constant light that came with living in it. No matter where you went in a town and no matter how clear the sky was, you would never see more than a handful of stars. Here, it was a different story. The next conglomeration of houses was miles away and their light didn't reach them up here in the woods on the cliff. When looking up at the sky, Elena was met with an endless tapestry of tiny twinkling lights. She had never considered the vastness of the universe, but she felt compelled to do it now. She could actually see the accumulation of stars that constituted the milky-way, could see the strait of bright lights thicken in some places and fizzle out at the edges and could make out darker spots further away that told of infinity. Those are all suns, she thought, for the first time struck by the wonder and possibility that this realization brought with it and had to gasp at the sense of limitless opportunity.
She felt Damon lie down next to her. "Pretty incredible, huh?" he said, looking up at the cosmos.
She just nodded her head. "Makes you feel pretty small and insignificant, doesn't it?" she mused, for the first time understanding the fascination humanity had with exploring space.
"Why?" he asked, turning around and looking at her. "Think of the odds. Out of all those planets around all those suns, ours is the only one that created life. How powerful is that? Looking out at all that emptiness, understanding how little the chances of us being here are, and still we made it. It's a miracle."
She turned to him and smiled. "Hadn't taken you for a philosopher, Mr. Salvatore," she teased playfully.
"Yeah well, there are a lot of things you don't know about me," he returned.
"Like what?" she asked, propping her head up on her hand, studying him.
"Like my favorite dessert is tiramisu," he told her with a wink.
"Shocker," she retorted mockingly.
"Like…" he began, looking around as if in search of something he could tell her. "When I was little I used to jump off this cliff," he tried a new approach.
"You did not," she exclaimed, incredulous.
"All the time," he insisted.
"I don't believe a word you're saying. That's like thirty feet."
"More like fifty, but yeah," he said nonchalantly.
"You're such a show-off. You didn't jump down this cliff," she stuck to her opinion.
"Oh ye of little faith," he said with a playful shake of his head. "I used to come here all the time with my brother and we would jump. It's the most exhilarating feeling in the world."
She looked at him, scrutinizing him. "There have to be rocks down there," she argued.
"Nope," he rejoined, looking smug. He looked at her with an assessing look. Then he sat up abruptly, a new glint in his eyes. "I'll jump right now if you jump with me," he proposed.
"Yeah right," she laughed it off.
"Come on," he egged her on. "I swear, you will feel like a new person afterwards."
"No way! I'm wearing a nice dress," she argued.
"Take it off," he rejoined matter-of-factly.
"I'm not taking off my dress in the middle of the forest.
Damon rolled his eyes. "I've already seen you in a bikini," he argued.
"It's not the same thing," she reasoned. "And what about the car? Are you just going to leave it here?" she waved in the direction of the vehicle for emphasis.
"I'll get it later," he nodded and stood up, starting to unbutton his shirt.
"What the hell are you doing?" she exclaimed, looking up at him with wide eyes.
"I'm jumping off this cliff," he said with determination in his voice, kicking off his shoes. "And you're coming with me."
She shook her head vehemently, panic starting to grip at her chest. "I would never in my life jump off this cliff, let alone in the middle of the night when I can't even see where I'm jumping."
"There's a first time for everything, remember?" he reminded her with a wink.
"You can be a smart-ass all you want. It's not happening," she maintained with finality.
He halted in his movements, standing before her, half undressed. His jeans were riding low on his hips, his hip bones and abs in stark relief due to the edgy moon light, his eyes darker than usual but with an unearthly twinkle to them. He took her hands in his and held them to his chest. "Look," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "I know it's scary. I stood on this edge for weeks before I jumped for the first time. And I almost peed my pants." She had to laugh lightly. "Don't laugh," he chided. "I was like… ten. Anyways, I promise you won't get hurt. I'll jump first and I'll make sure nothing happens to you. I swear. And I promise you it'll be the most exciting thing you've ever done."
She looked up at him hesitantly, but he could see a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes that assured him that he had convinced her. A smile spread across his face. "You're going to jump, aren't you?" he asked, nodding his head to reinforce her decision.
She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, debating the pros and cons in her head.
"You are." He confirmed for her. "You'll see. This was the best decision of your life." And with that he let go of her hands and stripped off his jeans, taking a few steps back from the edge. He looked at her again. "Ready?" he asked. Elena shook her head violently. "You better not let me down," he said with a wink and then he sprinted towards the edge and jumped off it. Elena ran towards the edge only to see him disappear in the dark water, leaving behind angrily curling foam and the echo of a splash. She held her breath, staring at the darkness underneath her, feeling her heart beating maniacally in her chest. The seconds that passed felt like hours to her and she didn't know how she was ever supposed to survive that much time under water, until finally she saw him appear again, shooting out from the obscurity surrounding him. She heard a whooping cry of elation from far below her and could see his arms waving at her and she couldn't suppress a smile.
That smile was, however, quickly wiped off her face when she realized that it was now her turn to jump. While she had thus far had an excited feeling in the pit of her stomach, it was now quickly turning into utter panic. She felt her heart-rate increase and her hands get clammy. She couldn't do this. She couldn't jump down fifty feet into the ocean. She took a few hasty steps away from the edge, praying that she wouldn't be sick. "First things first," she told herself. "Take off your dress." With shaky fingers she unzipped the comforting fabric on the side and, taking a deep breath, she let it slip off her shoulders and pool at her feet. The cool night air brushed against her newly naked skin and made her shudder. She closed her eyes, fighting down the panic. She could simply not jump. She could simply put on her dress, get in the car and drive back home. She took another deep breath and opened her eyes again, fixing the looming edge in front of her. "Take the leap," she heard a voice inside her head whisper. "For once in your life, take the leap." And then she felt the tingle in her toes. It wasn't the same fluttery sensation as the fear that was still gripping her heart. It was an excited, restless feeling, and it made her ankles twitch and her fingers clench. And then, before she actually realized it was happening, her feet were running towards the brink and then, in one horrifying moment, the muscles in her legs propelled her into the air and threw her off into nothingness. It happened too fast for her to actually form a coherent thought. Everything around her was rushing air and the sound of her own scream. And then, for a second, it felt like flying, like she didn't weigh anything and the wind would whisk her away. And then she crashed against the water and suddenly she was surrounded with noise from fuming waves colliding all around her and closing over her head, bubbles that gurgled loudly in her ears and rolled over every bit of naked skin on her body. She felt the sudden coldness of the water close around her heart and felt her body sink deeper into the endlessness clutching at her. When finally her descent slowed down, she started kicking her arms and legs and felt her body move upwards again, felt the temperature around her change, believed to feel the water get softer against her cheeks and her fingers. She stretched her arms upwards, waiting for her fingers to reach the air and suddenly her hand was grabbed by another hand, warm and firm around her wrist and it pulled her towards the surface, until her head broke through the water and she could open her nose and mouth and let air fill her lungs again. She felt her chest expand with the new oxygen flowing through it, felt the water drip off her skin and then a wave of exhilaration rushed through her, starting in her chest but quickly spreading through her entire body, making her kick her legs under water and sending electric current through her arms. Before she had even opened her eyes, she threw back her head and let out a scream, needing to release the excess energy somehow.
She heard Damon chuckle next to her and wiped her hair and the remaining water from her face before she opened her eyes to look at him. He was bobbing in the water next to her, looking at her with a mixture of glee and curiosity.
"That was…" she began, trying to find the words but still unable to focus either her thoughts or her feelings long enough to land on anything specific. For a second, she forgot to tread water and sank into darkness again, only to emerge a moment later, sputtering and laughing, wiping water from her eyes again.
She heard Damon laugh next to her and then felt his hand on her arm, pulling her a little closer, steadying her. "You okay?" he asked and she nodded fiercely, holding onto his shoulder with one hand, while wiping her hair behind her ear with the other. She looked around, looked up at the cliff she had just jumped off of, contemplated the amount of feet she had just fallen and the sharp rocks she had luckily missed, then she looked into the direction of the town where she saw a few lights shimmer and reflect on the water and then she looked back at him, still feeling her heart race and her pulse throb in her temples, feeling the adrenalin pump through her body, making her fingers twitch and ache, feeling her skin crawl with fear and elation and then, before she knew she was going to do it, she had pushed herself into his arms and was kissing him. She only understood that it was happening after the fact, when she realized that her arms were clasped around his neck, when she felt his wet hair between her fingers, when the heat from his body pressed against hers, when she tasted the salt on his lips. For a second he was completely immobile and it was that second that it took for her to realize what she was doing and for the humiliation to reach her brain and for the resolve to pull away from him to manifest in her thoughts. But then, just when she felt the blush of embarrassment creep up on her neck, she felt his arm suddenly close around her waist, felt his hand brush over her cheek and dive into her hair only a second later, pulling her into him, and felt his lips return the pressure of hers.
When the realization hit her that she was kissing him and that he was kissing her back, she was hit with a sudden sense of clarity, as if all her senses had suddenly heightened. She was aware of the sloshing of the waves against their skin, felt their bodies rise and fall with the water, felt his hand grab her side firmly, anchoring her, smelled his skin through the salt water covering it, felt his slight stubble scratch her eager lips, only to be smoothed over by soft caresses from his. She had never been kissed like this. Even with Mason, where at least she had been willing, where at least he had been caring, it had felt foreign at first and habitual later. This was different. The longer he kissed her, the more she wanted to be kissed by him. She thought that no amount of kissing this man could ever be enough. His lips were firm but gentle, his tongue tasting and caressing hers. She felt that he desired her, but not the demanding desire she was used to, rather a curious, a reverent, a craving desire and to her surprise she desired him too. Desired his touch, desired to feel him groan softly against her lips, desired to give herself up to him, to let him take her and to take something from him with her in return. She couldn't remember ever wanting to give anything of herself away, not her thoughts, not her freedom, not her body, knew that she only ever did it because she thought she had to in order to protect herself. But in this very moment she was ready to give him anything he might want.
They were clutching at each other desperately, barely able to keep above the water, tangled as they were. "We're going to drown," Damon said, muffled, his lips never leaving hers. She only mumbled a response that might have been a yes or a no, unwilling to separate her lips from his. "You're right," Damon said with a smirk, slightly nodding. "There's worse ways to die." And with that he went back to kissing her fiercely, until they actually disappeared under a bigger wave. Now they had to let go of each other. Did so, reluctantly, and kicked their legs until they reached the surface again.
Elena took in a deep breath before she opened her eyes, instantly searching Damon's. He was only inches from her but instead of kissing her again, like she wanted him to, he nodded his head in the direction of their beach and turned around, swimming towards it in long strokes. She swallowed down her disappointment, her fear of having made a horrible mistake, and followed after him, diving part of the way, praying for the cool water to clear her head. She reached shallow waters only shortly after him. He was waiting near the rocks that separated the bank they were standing on from the beach and the house, small waves lapping at his chest. When she reached him, they just stood in front of each other for a moment, trying to assess the other's intentions. When Elena couldn't take it any longer, she let her eyes fall from his and wander the scenery, lingering on a round rock towering next to her. "We were racing to this, weren't we?" she asked and, taking one step to the side, laid her hand onto the stone, smoothed by years and years of water and sand grinding against it. "I guess I win," she stated and forced herself to look up at him.
He contemplated her for a moment, before nodding. "Fine," he agreed and within seconds he had closed the distance between them and was pressing her against the cool mineral. She was surprised at the wave of relief washing through her, as she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Far too soon, she felt him pull away - only slightly, his forehead resting against hers, but still, pulling away. His hands were pushing against the stone on both sides of her face, their chests were heaving rapidly, he had his eyes closed while she was staring up at him. Carefully she let one of her hands glide slowly over his shoulder, hoping desperately that he would speak.
"Is this like an adrenaline rush thing?" he finally said, his eyes flashing up at hers, boring into her.
Elena felt her spine go cold. She started shaking her head slowly. "I don't think so," she said, looking up at him imploringly, begging him with her eyes to just take her in his arms again so that they might figure out together what the hell this was. She saw hesitation flicker across his face and knew that answer hadn't been enough.
"Like some kind of thank you for saving your kid?" he asked, not even looking at her, and her hands dropped from his shoulders instantly, making him look up at her.
"No!" she spat indignantly, pushing herself off the rock to get away. He wouldn't let her though, grabbed her hand instead and, intertwining their fingers, moved a fraction closer to her again, looking at her beseechingly now.
"What then?" he asked, his impossible eyes on hers. She knew that he demanded an explanation, some reassurance maybe, but by God, she was in desperate need of that herself. She stared up at him annxiously.
"I don't know," she whispered. "The dumbest, most irresponsible, most selfish thing I ever did in my life," she continued, almost gasping when she felt his hand in her hair again, anchoring her. "I didn't even know I wanted this," she tried to explain. "Not consciously." He closed his eyes and nodded. Feeling somewhat calmer, she grabbed the wrist that belonged to the hand cupping her neck and let her thumb stroke the soft skin there carefully. "What about you?" she asked, terrified of the answer but needing to ask the question none the less.
"Oh, I have wanted this," he said instantly, tightening his hold on the back of her head almost imperceptibly. "Badly."
Elena couldn't help the small smile that spread across her face. "You have?" she asked and he must have heard the excitement in her voice, because he looked up at her with a smirk.
"You have no idea," he told her, but it was more of a seductive purr now than the honest, confessing tone he spoke in only seconds ago.
"Oh I don't?" she asked playfully, letting her arm drop over his shoulder again and pulling him slightly closer.
"Mh-mh," he negated, shaking his head while leaning in. This time it was Elena who spoke instead of kissing him.
"Take me to your room," she whispered, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.
He stared at her for a moment before swiftly pushing himself off the rock and taking her hand, pulling her after him as he walked briskly towards the cabin. Elena had to giggle, trying to keep up with him. "Wait," she whispered, catching her breath halfway down the beach.
He turned around, looking at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes and before she knew what was happening, he had scooped her up, carrying her towards the cabin. Elena let out a suppressed shriek before pushing at his chest playfully. "What's always with the carrying?" she demanded. "I'm an emancipated woman! I demand to not be manhandled!"
"Sshhh," he returned chidingly but she could see the smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "You love it."
"Oh, do I?" she asked, challengingly, but not deterring him for a second.
"Yes, you do," he confirmed and at that, Elena relented and let her head sink against his shoulder.
Damon closed the door to his room behind them and turned around to face her. It was darker in here than it had been outside in the moonlight, but Elena could still make out the shape of his shoulders, the glimmer in his eyes and the movement of his hand as he reached for her. His hand was surprisingly warm against her cooled down skin and a slight moan escaped her at the soft contact. He took a step towards her, only inches separating them now and she could feel the heat emanating from his skin radiating against her. With one hand he opened the clasp of her bra and let the wet cloth drop to the floor, the rush of warm air making her chilled breasts tingle. She let her hands wander slowly from his shoulders down his torso, letting her fingertips make the acquaintance of his soft skin. She was in awe of her own desire. She had always preferred to know as little about the men lying on top of her as possible, knowing that the familiarity of their bodies would make the experience even worse. By the time she had met Mason, she had gotten used to the mere physicality of it and hadn't cared enough to be different with him. He didn't seem to mind. With Damon, it was different. She wanted to know him completely. Every inch, every scar, every spot that made him twitch and every spot that made him moan, wanted to discover his entire body and claim it.
When she reached the waist band of his dripping boxer shorts, he pulled her in for a forceful kiss, drawing her up until she was standing on her toes and she, in turn, grabbed his shoulders tightly and jumped up, straddling his waist, never breaking the kiss. He was holding her up and carried her over to the bed, dropping her carefully onto the soft sheets. He was leaning over her and she let her hands drift down his back, feeling the taught muscles under his skin swell as he shifted his weight to bend down and kiss her neck. When he only ghosted over one specific spot, she had to giggle and threw her head back lightly.
"Ticklish," he remarked with a satisfied grin to which Elena only nodded. He was now hovering over her, looking down at her, drinking her in. Elena became suddenly aware of the stillness. While outside, there had been the rushing of the waves and the whisper of the wind, in here it was completely quiet. She could hear their breathing, could even hear the slight sound her fingers made running across his skin. And despite the excitement she felt curl inside her, she was at peace.
"Elena!" she heard suddenly from somewhere far away and it was a sound so foreign and so far removed from this moment that she couldn't place it at first. "Elena!" she heard again, hearing the front door fall shut right after. By the time she had clasped her hand over her mouth, Damon had already jumped from the bed. "Mason," she whispered.
A/N: There you go :) Please let me know what you think. And come talk to me on twitter: cerulianvixen
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