Chapter Sixteen: Mr Happy Finds a Friend
Damon Salvatore
It was unfortunate that Damon was a heavy sleeper. It was worse when he was a child, and his little brother used to wake him up by jumping on him while reciting a rhyme he'd personally adapted from Green Eggs and Ham: "You could go sleep in the rain..." Body slam. "... You could go sleep on a train..." Body slam. "... You could go sleep here or there..." Body slam. "... You could go sleep anywhhhhhhaaaa..." At one point or another, Damon always threw him off the bed.
Feeling the first sharp compressive pain around his wrist, Damon nearly did just that. But, with heavy eyelids, he saw Elena hovering on top of him as he remained on his back on the bed.
He was inches away from her cleavage. He had to be dreaming. It was a great dream.
Another tight yank formed around his second wrist.
Okay, not a dream.
Suddenly he was wide awake... and Elena had a huge smile on her face.
Of course she did – she was on top of him. What woman wouldn't be smiling?
But he couldn't move his wrists. Why couldn't he move his wrists?
Damon rotated his head to each side, seeing his arms bound to the brass headboard behind him. As fiercely as he pulled, they were knotted tight with... were those bandages? The ones he'd wrapped around Elena's injured ankle with tender loving care? This was the thanks he got for helping her yesterday? Or... was it yesterday? It was dark outside. What the hell was going on?
Elena checked her handiwork thoroughly. "This is what you get for thinking you can share a bed with me."
"So far, the punishment isn't looking too bad." Damn it. He was hoping he would wake up before she did. Where did she expect him to sleep? On the floor? He'd slept in his clothes and kept to his side of the bed – it wasn't like he'd cuddled up to her – and wasn't she supposed to like that One Bed trope anyway? He gave his wrists another tug. They weren't moving. "You know, you've got a lot to learn about consent, Elena."
She sat back on his groin.
"Okay, I consent," Damon quickly conceded.
"What are you consenting to?"
"All of it, everything, whatever you want," he effused.
Elena leaned forward and pinched his cheek with her hand. "It's such a shame it's still a little too early to do what I want to do to you."
"Oh, it's never too early," Damon opposed eagerly. "I'm a round-the-clock kind of guy. Anytime, anywhere. What do you have in mind?"
Bringing her knees over him and sliding them between his legs, she gradually made her way down his body. She spoke slowly and teasingly "Well, it's almost 5AM, and I know someone's an early riser..."
"I'm always ready to rise, baby."
She inched backward until her chest was over his groin, her hands propping herself on either side of him. "I meant Stefan." At Damon's confused expression, she grinned. "I'm going to call your brother. Good luck stopping me, asshole."
Shit!
"No, you don't!" Before she could escape, Damon swung his legs over her – one over her back, the other over that cute but sneaky butt of hers – and brought her crashing down onto him while he wrapped around her like an anaconda. She could have had another kind of anaconda, but hey, it was her loss. What a scheming minx!
"Let me go!" she snapped, struggling against the pressure of his legs.
"Not a chance in hell," he replied. Leg day at the gym was finally paying off. "Let me go!" He pulled against his restraints again.
"Eat my ass!"
"That's exactly what I was prepared to do until you decided to rat me out to my brother instead," he pointed out. "I was expecting a good time, not this Fifty Shades of Treachery roleplay."
Elena wasn't paying attention to him – she was too focused on trying to get away. Scratching, pinching, pulling... nothing worked. She was body to body with him, locked in tight. All she could do was shift her weight up and down until he tired out and loosened his hold on her. So that's exactly what she did.
Damon registered what she was doing from down below. It was not a smart move. "Elena..." he warned.
She continued to ignore him. Each time she pushed back and forth, his clutch on her was slowly slipping. She was gradually sliding her way up to his chest, flat against his body like a snake – if the snake was bouncing around like it had hiccups.
"Elena!"
She finally paused to shriek, "What?!"
Damon shot her a deterring look, his eyes stern. "You're going to want to stop grinding on me like that."
For a brief second, the innocent kitten who wrote smut for a living was actually confused.
Too late. She should have listened earlier.
Elena's eyes widened in realization. She looked underneath to where her stomach was pressed against his groin, and what was rising between them. His legs were still pinning her in place so she couldn't move – not without making things worse. When she looked up again, there was almost a flicker of curiosity in her expression... before it segued immediately into her now-default mode of anger.
Her eyes pierced down at Damon, her lip curling. Her tone was a slow and authoritative growl. "Get Mr Happy to back off!"
Damon spoke just as slowly, though trying to be more authoritative than a woman who had him tied to a bed was a bit of a stretch. "Untie me!"
"No!" she snapped.
Damon's head came forward. "Then it's not my fault if Mr Happy's found a friend."
Unimpressed with his snarky response, she demanded, "Let me go!" But she didn't move. She didn't dare.
"So you can call Stefan and he can come here and beat my ass for stealing your key?" Damon chuckled dryly. "Hell no."
"Then think of something to make it go away!"
"I can't."
"Why not?!"
Damon hissed through his teeth, "Because there's an incredibly gorgeous woman still on top of me – that's why not!"
Elena seemed temporarily stunned by the compliment, but it soon passed. Her tone was lower now; less angry and more sulky. "And whose fault is that?"
Damon scoffed at the ridiculousness of the question. "Yours! I was sleeping peacefully when you decided to climb on board and wrap your legs around me like a fanny pack I never asked for."
Groaning long, loudly, and dramatically, Elena flopped down onto Damon's chest, defeated. She rested her head sideways, trying to relax. "You can't keep your legs wrapped around me forever, you know," she muttered softly. "At some point, you'll have to let go of me."
"By then, I'll have figured out how to loosen these bandages," Damon asserted. "Then you can call Stefan as many times as you like. I'll be long gone before he gets here."
"No, you won't," Elena insisted sleepily. She yawned.
"Are you going back to sleep?" Damon asked, surprised.
"Mm-hmm," she confirmed, sliding her hands over his chest and tucking them under her head. "There's nothing better to do."
"You could untie me." Of course, he didn't expect her to agree. She didn't even answer. She was in it for the long game, and – unlike him – all she had to do was wait. Wait with her head on his chest, her stomach still pressed against his awkward boner that wasn't leaving anytime soon, his legs wrapped around her body, and his wrists bound to the headboard.
Just before she fell asleep on him, he tilted his head and looked down at her – her features finally relaxed and peaceful. It was a rare sight. In other circumstances, he'd be sleeping along with her. It was a shame that he was on the clock to escape this. "Elena?" he started gently.
Her eyes remained closed. "Mmm?"
"I guess you can agree with me that the One Bed trope sucks, right?"
Her hands slid apart, and her head was back on his chest again, discreetly nuzzling into him. "It's not so bad," she responded drowsily.