She lets him know just how angry she is, slamming the car door once inside the passenger seat of his Mustang. He sits on the driver side, letting her ride out whatever she needed to get out of her system.

Damon pretends nothing has happened, or at least that's how it comes off because he starts the engine and turns on the radio to a low volume just to drown out the quiet. "Coming of age" by Foster the People played mildly in the background.

He's stuck on the fact that Bonnie's still wearing his leather jacket. The sleeves are too long for her short arms, so they come past her wrists covering her small hands. And there's something he finds adorable about the way she owns what is not hers, as she appears completely comfortable in it while remaining both quiet and livid.

She does everything in her power to avoid looking his way, but that doesn't trouble him in the slightest. He's intrigued, proposing new ways on how to get the ball back in his court. He drives with one hand on the steering wheel and a short distance from her house as they turn onto the sleepy neighborhood street. His car rolls to a slow stop next to the curb in front of her home. He turns off the engine.

The tension shifts when a dead silence sweeps the car interior, thickening the air and amplifying the sound of their breathing.

Damon motions unprovoked, angling himself facing towards the passenger. He leans over the stick-shift prodding with half-lidded eyes, looking down somewhere inexact by her measure.

Bonnie looks at him foolhardy wanting to ask, while simultaneously feeling paralyzed and spurning over the proximity of his mouth being so close that she can feel his breathing—picking up his faint cologne and natural scent. The vestige makes her feel something other than despise. And the idea of knowing Damon Salvatore on a personal level bothered her.

She gradually sinks in her seat. Unsure and retracting until the back of her head hits the rest, feeling jammed between him and the door.

His gaze wanders beneath him, feeling annoyingly trapped there. Thoughtlessly peering at her dress split where the view displayed a slither of shimmery brown thigh, which seemed to wave back at him like a 3D motion picture—practically uprooting his thoughts. It's not like he had been deliriously staring at it all night anyway. The urge tempting and gnawing at him almost maddening, stealing glances of it when she wasn't looking or paying attention.

Bonnie holds breath becoming still, having no time to react when his long arm steady reaches across, snaking around and brushing her lower hip.

There's a loud click and the car's overhead light turns on. She studies him bookish, realizing he had opened the passenger side door.

Damon looks at her expressionless with crystal blue eyes beaming under the partial streetlight. Maybe this was his screwed up way of apologizing despite saying absolutely nothing.

His eyes drop, this time blunt and intentional, to stare at her full lipstick ridden pout. Probably daring him to say something stupid.

The fleeting moment had dwindled and gone when he quietly interrupts. "Good night judgey," Damon concludes, and there's nothing snide in his tone.

Bonnie blinks several times just before looking away, breaking their staring contest. She unbuckles her seat-belt, feeling the loss of time and return of her decency. Recalling the unconscious need to pluck him out, as if he were a thorn lodged deep in her backside.

She exits the car without so much as saying goodbye, too pre-occupied with escaping his presence that she also forgets she's still wearing his leather jacket.

XXX

She turns away with a queasy stomach, forcing the upchuck to go back down her throat. She can't stand to see him squirm and groan like this. He looks at her, eyes weary and tired. The kind of shaky puppy dog eyes her gave her just before handing her a broken heart.

Damon tisks, slapping his brother twice as if to keep him awake. "Hey! Eyes here compadre. I'm the one with the poker." He points, coming to grips with accepting that he is his father's son—that giving tough love was indeed his area of specialty, with Stefan obviously being the sensitive one who takes after their mother.

But none of that gentile shows on Stefan's face the moment he breaks to stare at his brother. "If I'm not mistaken, I think you're enjoying this," Stefan says, blood trailing down the corner of his lip where he was punched from minutes ago.

"No I don't," Damon answers. "I actually love it. Payback if you will for making me chase you around town." He scowls while pressing the hot poker into Stefan's right shoulder making him groan.

Stefan scrunches his fingers, both forearms are rope bound to the chair's arm rests. He clears his throat once the drought passes. "Are you done?"

"Oh I'm just getting started little brother," Damon tells, intending to see this out.

"It's not working," Elena exasperates appearing tired. "We should take a break." The next morning had come and gone. Now it was nightfall and they were all sleep deprived.

Stefan leans his head back, jawline raised and taking the pain with stride despite having hollow eyes and looking exhausted himself.

Damon points the poker at his brother's shoulder. "That's exactly what he wants Elena," he says, sounding spiteful.

Elena reaches out, gently pushing the poker down and away from Stefan without losing sight of the black-haired vampire. "You need to rest. And so do I. He's not going anywhere," she says. The soft lilting in her voice sways him, but he puffs his chest out wanting to resist, too prideful to accept the help.

"Like hell he isn't." Damon huffs, finally dropping the rod iron on the floor disturbing the peace in the grand room.

Stefan conveniently eyes the doppelganger when his brother's back is turned. He wants to talk. And she senses it too, finding the urge hard to resist.

Elena turns away from Stefan's meddlesome gaze, knowing her feelings were getting the best of her. "I'll talk to him." She says quiet as if the other didn't have ears, while comforting and rubbing Damon's shoulder until his muscles turn slack.

Stefan knows he's not forgotten, in fact he waits for it patiently, looking inoffensive.

Damon turns to face her, and it almost feels like they are alone because she resolves his nerves. The glowing fireplace light hits her face making her look sweet and harmless, then he thinks Stefan is a total idiot for kicking her to the curb in the first place.

"Please Damon." Elena begs. "Let me try." And within the break, he grunts and caves letting her have her way—convincing him to take a breather.

"You know he's only doing this for show. Right?" Stefan states dry and loud. Damon scoffs without looking back, he walks out of the room.

Elena swivels around, not finding his lack of seriousness to be entertaining. "He wants to help you." She argues, glaring at him.

Stefan thinks she doesn't have the slightest clue, but he won't rupture that fairytale notion if it comforts her. "You have no idea who my brother is." He finely hints, not loosing his grip on reality.

Elena takes his words with a grain of salt. "But I know you," she says soft. Stefan tilts his head waiting to hear her predictable speech. "I know you're a good person. And that you don't want to harm people. Even if they can be as awful as your brother," she presses.

Stefan half-snickers, agreeing that his brother was indeed loathsome. "And you'd be the perfect person to determine that…" He states cheeky and mobilizing his chin upward to look at her sharp.

The notion goes over her head and she believes it to be exactly true, having both brothers best intentions in mind. "Yes I am," Elena tells wholly sure of herself. "That's why I haven't given up on you," she reminds.

The seconds pass, then they just quietly stare at one another. When her words don't elicit a response, she turns around rolling both eyes, sighing heavy, and looking somewhat defeated.

Stefan swallows once, sounding pained. "Elena?!" He calls, making her immediately stop.

The doppelganger turns back to meet his gaze, which seemed to melt away any begrudging she had left in her bones. She returns to him without second thought, allowing her feet to stop at his where he sits.

XXX

Their conversation was nothing he hadn't heard before. Most of it was nauseating, so he killed the time in the kitchen, checking his cell phone. He tried calling the witch, who no surprise was probably ignoring him.

It's too quiet—he thinks. He'd only been gone for a few minutes, but he's not stupid. Damon returns now standing in the doorway, causing Elena to glance his way appearing stunted. The older Salvatore's eyes probe between her and his brother.

He approaches, feet feeling heavy and dragging across the area rug. The doppelganger was blocking his view, he moves her to the side. "Ready to talk now?!" Damon comments at the other.

Stefan just stares at him bored, and blinking. "About?" He says.

"You tell me. We can do this the easy way or the hard way," Damon proposes with some edge in his voice. "You want the poker or the knife?!" He orders.

Stefan chuckles unaffected. "Thank you brother," he claims.

Damon wants to know what's so amusing. "For what?! Being the weakest link?" he snuffs, eyes trailing down the other's forearms, suddenly realizing his worst fear had come to life.

Stefan reaches up and squeezes Damon by the throat bringing him downward, putting excessive force on his pressure point making him cave and come to his knees, all while staying situated in his seat. "For helping me bide the time," Stefan reveals thru clenched teeth, the veins in his forearm bulge when his grip tightens.

Elena blinks several times, coming out of a daze.

Damon's eyes roll to her impostor. "Elena what did you do?!" He chokes.

Stefan squeezes harder. "Only what I asked her to do," he answers on her behalf. Damon's trachea implodes and he falls sideways to the floor, desperately searching for breath.

Stefan casually starts undoing the other rope that kept his left hand bound. Meanwhile, the Gilbert girl is stuck watching the switch happen and feels helpless to stop it. "I don't know what happened," she says shaking her head appearing lost.

Damon starts to cough, recovering on his hands and knees. His vocal chords aren't quite working yet and he stumbles on the first try to get up, feeling dizzy.

Stefan takes a grand stand feeling somewhat refreshed, rubbing his numb wrists and flexing his stiff fingers, looking down at his older sibling. "You just can't do anything right these days." He states condescending. "Then again...when have you ever?" He's not asking either.

Elena steps back looking flabbergasted, wondering how it all went downhill so fast.

"She carelessly stopped taking her vervain," Stefan sighs. "Now who's fault is that?" He talks to the other vampire who only grunts beneath him. "Under my watch, that wouldn't happen. But then again, you are you." He sucker punches Damon once, making him go face first into the ground.

"Stefan how could you?! I trusted you," Elena whines, rubbing her forehead and trying to remember the last of their conversation.

"My sincerest apologies. Really, it's nothing personal." Stefan waves monotone. The shock on her face suggests he was otherwise acting as a bad liar.

Damon gets up swift and seething, he furiously punches nothing but air as Stefan was out the room in a flash. Then he determinedly goes after him.

XXX

The traditional alarm clock rang and rattled by the bedside, letting her know it was a school morning. Bonnie woke feeling like she hadn't slept at all. She had a fitful night's sleep, tossing and turning in bed with the recall of his touch seeping its way into her memory banks every time her eyes shut.

Caroline had called to check-in the night prior, followed by an awkward conversation with Elena, and what felt like everyone else under the sun. So it wasn't unusual to say the least, but that didn't make it less bothersome.

"Nothing is working on him. I'll update you later." Was the last Bonnie heard from Elena's text, which felt cold and distant.

When Damon called, she didn't think twice and finally decided to turn off the device. She needed a cleansing, one to scrub her mind free of magic demands and vampire troubles.

Her father Rudy was knocking on the bedroom door now, briefly popping his head in to remind her he was off to work. With much struggle, Bonnie managed to pull herself out of bed, brush her teeth and splash warm water.

Rudy calls from downstairs, seemingly on his way out. "Don't forget to lock the door," he shouts.

Bonnie drags along to the downstairs to turn the lock as usual. It was their morning routine. Her bare feet lazily tread in the kitchen's direction with the smell of fresh brewed coffee calling her name. Then she stops mid-way to retrace her steps.

XXX

If he could describe the feeling, it was like a parasite infecting its host, making his jaw tick. He knows he should stay away, but everything in his body had willed him there.

Stefan stands across the street, hands in both pants pockets watching Rudy Hopkins leave his house in the early hours of the morning with a travel coffee mug in hand. Rudy doubles back to yell something just before closing the front door. The engine of his full-sized Mazda starts, and it's not long before his vehicle departs from the driveway.

He knows this is his que. Once the gentleman is out of sight and mind, Stefan approaches the home pressing with everything in his fiber feeling a sense of urgency.

Before he can pound on the door or ring the bell, it already opens for him.

Bonnie's standing there wearing an oversized T-shirt that looked like it had been slept in. His eyes trail downward, probing her bare honey toned legs, wondering if there were shorts to accompany it.

"You shouldn't be here," she says, not surprised that he chose to do the opposite of what she asked.

Stefan leans into the door's frame, fingers gripping the exterior almost to keep himself from lunging at her. "And you shouldn't be wearing that," he nods serious, like she had lost her everlasting mind.

"I just woke up if you must ask," Bonnie pans dry. He doesn't scare her. If she had some sense, she would be because there's a primal flare in his blue-green eyes. "How did you get out? Does Damon know you are here?!"

Stefan lets himself in, ignoring all her questions and closing the door behind him.

"I didn't say you could come in," Bonnie recalls, thinking maybe his brain isn't completely fried because he still hasn't attacked her. "The compulsion—" She says half-finished.

Stefan vamp speeds before Bonnie can utter another word, he had her pinned to the wall holding her by the wrists. "That's not why I'm here," he rushes, eyes shifting and looking her up-and-down in observance that she hadn't retaliated with a fatal migraine.

Bonnie searches his features, not feeling threatened, but the assault of his hungry stare entranced her. She knows she's too trusting, and it shows when she speaks.

"Then why are you holding me like this?!" She asks, wanting him to clarify. Their exchange feels natural, too comfortable in fact. "You tried to attack me remember?!"

"That was two nights ago," Stefan says blasé, not breaking his focus.

She becomes distracted, citing her first notion. "I'm not feeding you if that's what you want," she comments stern.

Stefan examines her lips. "I never asked," he baritones, subtly arching a brow.

"Then what do you want?" Bonnie mutters out of atonement, her green eyes drop to his parted mouth. He begins leading her arms to rise above her head causing her breathing to uncomfortably shift. "Stefan?!" She calls quiet and alarmed, starting to have an idea.

"You know what I want." He answers with a voice that grows dark, his neck craning downward and looking like he's on the brink of deteriorating.

She holds breath while he keeps both her wrists captive in one solid grip, still looming over her head. His other hand travels down south, stopping in between her naked thighs gliding upward making her tremor. His forefingers dip to penetrate, but not crossing the barrier of her panties, thumb pinching just where her clitoris begins making Bonnie inhale deep. Her eyes turn soft now.

"I'm not here to talk," Stefan announces, spreading his stance so his feet are apart, keeping his digits clasped just where he desired. Bonnie absentmindedly moans when his thumb rubs in a precise circular motion, putting down just enough pressure to get his point across. His pout brushes against her lips, which start to quiver from his touch. "I want you. It's that simple," he states decisive, clear.

Now she wishes he didn't have her hands bound tight because she feels the need to return the favor. Bonnie chases his lips expecting more, but Stefan schemes, pulling his head back leaving her pout empty.

If there was a threshold, he had to be thorough and careful not to cross what could potentially make him lose whatever control he had over himself as of now.

"Once we start. I can't stop." Stefan admits, strained and removing his hand from between her legs leaving her dizzy.

Bonnie peers at him lush, and slightly aggravated. It's painfully obvious now, that she misses the fill of his caress. She imagines a scenario where she slips away from his grasp, and forces him to leave, yet the idea of halting things makes her feel unsettled. She opens her mouth and he waits for what feels like forever because it takes several seconds before actual words come out. Her distracted stares go back and forth between his lips and his ocean colored eyes, which seem to gouge hers for an answer. One that had to be carefully thought out on her part.

"We don't have to stop," Bonnie intones clearing the air, finally agreeing to what she had been denying. "I want you too," she whispers seamlessly matching his study, enticing him to keep going. This meant no turning back.

Stefan doesn't think now, he lifts Bonnie off her feet. She compliantly wraps both legs around his slender waist locking them in place and braces his broad shoulders for support. He holds her tight, as if afraid she'd scurry off and get away this time.

It looks like Bonnie's about to say something, but Stefan silences her mouth with a heated kiss, unable to shake what's building inside. She knows she's asking for trouble, but for once, she'd like to live and let be without worrying about saving the town from crashing and burning.

Stefan deepens their embrace, death gripping her hips, and grinding his hardness with vigor into her barred entry. He moans cavernous and thumps her against the wall causing a picture frame to fall down, opening his mouth wide and offering a slow swirling tongue which she catches sublimely. He was the type to take his merry time, not wanting to rush, but savor every second spent.

Bonnie squeezes him in a hug, trying to keep up with his ravaging kisses that showed he was strictly there for pleasure and not business.

He pulls back to watch her incarnate expression as they maneuver to one another's swaying, wishing to capture and store it somewhere in his mind for safekeeping. All the while, keeping her hoisted up by his strength alone. Stefan dry humps her studied and slow, cleverly giving her a demonstration of what it would be like if they were doing this dance horizontally and with no clothes on.

He heatedly watches her, making it feel intimate. Now she can't help but feel intimidated by what's to come.

Stefan races them upstairs to her bedroom, where they both fall onto the mattress with him on top. Bonnie tries to bring his pout back, hating its absence. Stefan stops short, looking like he's about to break when she's fumbling with the belt buckle on his denim jeans. His hands promptly stop hers. Making her look perplexed or rather so, impatient. She thinks it's what she should be doing. What he wants her to do.

He swallows once, making her glance at his prominent adam's apple. "Bonnie please. I need you to stay still for me." Stefan pleads, aching and restraining her hands to the bed. He has to be in control, intuitively wired to do so, to control the outset of her pleasure and his. He goes back to the task unhurried, practically handling her like glass and he intends to let her know it. He begins pulling her panties to come off, mesmerized and watching them glide down her legs and letting them fall to the floor.

The stark contrast of being naked from the waist down suddenly feels like night and day. Bonnie tries to relax in his presence because Stefan among many things was intense and smothering. She couldn't help but compare their situation with the only experience she had which was with Jeremy, who was all thumbs even when he was putting his best foot forward, and seemed to be all about getting his pleasure before hers. This was different.

Stefan lets her know clear. "Has anyone ever tasted you before?" He asks with a hand roaming down her flat stomach, lifting her shirt.

Bonnie tries not to blush, because there was nothing friendly about his tone. The befitting shows her just how serious and artful he was when it came to this type of thing. It's not romantic at all, it's something that rips you to shreds if you let it.

Bonnie just shakes her head at first, then clears her self-conscience. Reminding herself that this was Stefan she was talking to. He was direct and not timid in the slightest.

"Yes." She answers sounding reserved. "Of course."

Stefan smirks on the inside, but it doesn't show in his hard-browed expression. He detects she might be telling a fib based on the sound of her racing heart. "If I'm going to taste you, then you should know how its properly done," he quips while sitting upright, digits casually dragging downwards until the bottom of his palm faces her mound. He gently slides a middle finger into her womanhood reaching until its length can go no further, coercing an inaudibly moan to escape her. "I don't do that with just anyone," he tells, attentive of her body's shifting.

Now she feels nervous by his leading, wondering of his many conquests. "Are you saying I should feel special?" Bonnie remarks unable to hide her own smirk, not wanting to believe him.

He only studies her, half-grinning and still fingering her soft. "Let me be the first to show you." Stefan baritones, now aiming for her stomach.

He places a slow tongue filled kiss beneath her belly button, making her stomach sink inward. Her head falls back for rest to prepare herself for what's about to happen. Her hands are shaky, making her anxious and excited all at once. The smacking of his lips are jarring, breaking the room's silence. He takes his sweet time that it almost kills her.

Stefan leans angled, keeping a keen eye on her. He remains fully clothed, forgetting about them for that matter. He inserts a second finger making her suddenly stiffen and breathe deep. He's fixated, thrusting to gauge for a specific reaction. As if doing a dutiful task and his mission is to make her fold.

Bonnie inhales sharp when his digits curve slightly, feeling her insides clench as he rubs the groove of her top wall finding a weak spot. He starts to powerfully push and pull making her lower half roll with the motion of his finger fucking. It feels abrupt and heavenly all at once, enough that it makes her crawl away and moan out loud. He determinedly keeps going, following wherever she moved.

Stefan contently watches his index and middle finger thrust in awe, fascinated with how wet she's become, but the notion is not shocking granted he was prideful in observing—to him, foreplay was the crucial ingredient. Whereas, to Jeremy it was just a means to an end.

He pulls his two fingers out at the feel of her cumming, bringing them to his mouth to boldly suck his digits. Now she's charmed by his inhibited state. "Hmmmm." Stefan hums deep seemingly liking what he tastes, his head drops, wrapping his arms under her thighs and pulling them apart. She braces herself, nails scratching the bed.

Stefan moves sluggish, mouth hovering over her womanhood. "Bonnie?" He calls in deep voice, sounding firm.

Her eyes stare at the ceiling above, still wearing her T-shirt, unable to face him now or she'll come undone from the suspense. Feeling his soft breathing against her vaginal lips. "Yes Stefan?" She answers thru ragged breath. And it starts to feel like he's giving her a set of instructions.

"You're too tense. Relax…" He surveys, thinking she's too in her head and not focusing on her body. He plants an unexpected, languid kiss to her womanhood making her quiver. She pants, still not over the fact that a vampire, nonetheless, Stefan Salvatore's head is in between her legs. He suctions the long smooch making her moan light and airy. "…And let me make you cum." He whispers finely, kissing her folds again, concentrated, this time with the roll of his tongue.

Her eyes start fluttering to close as he plants strong kisses, opening his mouth wide, then sealing it with a noisy peck that makes her legs tremble and shake. So loud that she swears the sound of his smacking echo and bounce off the walls, resulting in a building of arousal.

His tongue laps are measured and lazy, but precise. She jolts when he finds her weakness within seconds. "Ste-St-fan," Bonnie moans his name broken. Her fingers clutch the bed linens, toes curling, and thighs probably clamping the sides of his face.

Stefan vocalizes a moan in response, he's smothering her womanhood whole and sending a controlled tempo to keep her on the edge, not losing aim of his intended target. The sensation is wholly pleasant. Not brash at all, but overwhelming and difficult to combat.

Her hips start rolling with the dance of his tongue, unabashed, Bonnie fists Stefan's neatly tussled hair with both hands to bring him as close as possible. She whimpers and rocks into his tongue once the warm vibrations start traveling down her legs.

Stefan reaches up, stealthily fondling one of her small breasts, the flat of his other hand keeps her hips to lay straight once they start to rise-up from the mattress.

She starts seeing stars, thinking this kind of thing only happens in movies, or fantasy filled books. She rides out her orgasm as Stefan catches every droplet of her essence in his mouth, fawning at the height of seeing her pleasure.

He rises with a glistening mouth, abruptly dragging her by the legs so she meets where he kneels, giving her the impression that he was far from done.

He descends eyes half-lidded and oozing enough confidence to fill an entire room. Bonnie pulls Stefan inward to languidly lip lock. She kisses him almost needy, her hands cup and hold his jawline, feeling mellow and slightly high. Now there's a desperate need to have him ravage her. Then she thinks of the time he asked if she wanted to know how she tastes.

XXX

He enjoyed pleasing others, it was instinctive. He was also selective of whom he'd bestow his pleasures upon. But this had nothing to do with deep feelings. It was carnal. He makes sure to never let his hands go idle—Especially since he needed to consciously control an unpredictable bloodlust.

Stefan reaches under the barrier of Bonnie's shirt to knead one of her breasts, his tense gaze bore into her green ones when he dips to take her nipple in his mouth. He focuses all his arousal there, suctioning slow and antagonizing making her body quake. He drags out the moment for as long as he could wait.

"Bonnie please. Right now," Stefan utters sounding pained, pulling himself upward and making her peer at him undivided. As if it was detrimental for her to understand that he's not exactly built to be self-contained because what he felt was amplified times a thousand. "Let me inside you," he pled, still clothed and feeling like he's about to break if he can't console the need—making him more primitive than ever.

The trace of his thumb was drawing lazy circles around her nipple, and she has to remind herself of what they are really doing. Bonnie nods a subtle permission, seemingly unsure of the right thing to say or do.

Now Stefan quickens the pace, he takes the initiative of removing her shirt first. The moment turns visceral when she realizes that she is completely nude. It's frightening actually, once it becomes clear that all paths point to one direction. She waits for his next move somewhat shy, letting him naturally take the lead.

Stefan rises to kneel on the bed, brisk and vacating each article of clothing. Starting with his grey shirt, pulling it off in one clean swoop, baring his hard chest and chiseled stomach. He doesn't break eye contact, not allowing the permit of his obsession to go elsewhere, as he unzips his jeans. His rock hard erection springs out when his pants come down and Bonnie's eyes widen. He kicks himself out of his jeans eager, growing impatient by the passing second. He didn't want something so simple as fabric constricting them or his movements.

Her breath hitches in the back of her throat when he leans back down making them nose-to-nose, forcing her to lay flat on her back to welcome his shifting weight. Intent on finishing where he left off.

Stefan is nestled in between Bonnie's legs, pushing them to open further to his liking. He can tell she was unpracticed, noting her obvious nervousness as her hands brace his lower back meek. It was the wild contrast to his lights out situation, allowing him to avoid any guilty train of thought because right now, he can't think of any. He holds his erect manhood at the precipice of her entry, pressing the tip off-and-on, leaving her on the edge of anticipation.

Stefan locks Bonnie's gaze, testing the waters to gauge her tightness as he inserts himself nice and slow. Her thighs squeeze his waist at the feel of him sinking, her walls seize up making her gasp in surprise.

"Oh my gosh, Stefan!" Bonnie whines, not expecting the sharp intake. She grips his shoulders hard telling herself not to freak out. His manhood was rather generous, much larger than she imagined neither anticipated. She wasn't sure if this were a good or bad thing.

"Uh-huh," Stefan moans self-assured, his head leveled with her line of sight—where she seemingly looks unable to withstand the simple thrust that only went half-way in. "You have to take all of me," he musters.

Bonnie clutches his toned back, mouth dropping, gaping at him when he forces himself deeper this time. She can't stand to look at him now, her eyelids become weighted, but mostly wanting to avoid the intensity of Stefan's unblinking stare. Not that it made her uncomfortable, but it was something she didn't feel quite equip to handle just yet.

His brows bunched together concentrated, motioning his hips back-and-forth pushing her further. And deeper. He doesn't need kissing now, because it would only be a distraction. He wanted to watch her unfold beneath him.

Bonnie draws him close once the onset of thrusts arises, making their foreheads neatly touch. Her eyes roll to the back of her head at the start of loosening up to his steady stroking. "That's it. Just like that," Stefan moans encouraging her so.

He holds her by the throat, deft and snug. His thumb pressing and angling her chin so her head stays back on the bed drawing her still as possible, keeping his pace. She unravels fast once the pain subsides, finally feeling adjusted to the girth of his manhood—Stefan grins. Now the fun begins.

His other hand gripped her bottom fierce, pulling her lower-half upward, penetrating deep. His momentum suddenly laps without pause making Bonnie whine and moan, decadent and uninhibited. "You don't cum until I say so," Stefan instructs baritone.

XXX

A/N: I know it's been awhile since I've updated. But there's more to come. We're getting into the good stuff now. I've always imagined him to be domineering in many aspects (especially in bed, ripper or not), the show didn't give him enough credit in my humble opinion. I don't know, what do you think of Stefan after this?