Hello my loyal readers, before we get into the lemony dessert I've cooked up for you all today, I need to go over a few things first. If you love me, you'll hear me out…

So, I'm not sure if all of you have read my latest profile updates or not, but I just thought I'd let you all know that someone has decided they like my work so much that they felt they should just copy it as their own. And I do mean COPY, b/c this chick didn't even try to disguise the writing. You can read all about it on my website (linked as my homepage on my profile) as I got so mad last night that it's STILL up, that I just felt I had to do SOMETHING to make myself feel a little better (I don't, but up it will stay until I get my apology). Anyway, the short version is that on Saturday while I was moving into my new apartment (and dealing with enough stress as it was), this wonderful, loyal reader Toffeenutlatte sent me a message. She was notifying me of a story she'd come across called "Mine" by a writer named Fiore12. In this story, Damon is comforting Caroline after the events of "Kill or Be Killed" and…well, basically all of the kiss between Stefan/Caroline from Chapter 1 and the hot action between Damon/Elena from Chapter 4 of "All I Need" were stolen from me and used in her little story. NO reference to me was given. You can read all about her response to my "review", my response, the story (highlighted in the parts that she took) and of course the corresponding excerpts of my chapters, all on my website. Like I said before, I'm not playing around here. And I think it's clear by now that aside from wanting some naked Damon, I needed another way of getting everyone's attention who may not have received a message from Toffeenutlatte yet explaining my situation. So if you support my work, please head over to Fiore12's story and give her a piece of your mind. She only takes signed reviews, so getting my friends without accounts to go over there isn't going to work too well.

Thank you for your support,

Temptress Kitten.

PS. In light of these recent events, I dedicate this story to the following readers…

Toffeenutlatte: for alerting me to the plagiarism of my work and for being so helpful in getting the word out to everyone while I was without my internet this weekend.

LovexAndxFate: for always reviewing my work and for her review of the thief's story (yes, I am watching for those).

DomOx: for the amazing stories I got to read this weekend on my BlackBerry, in addition to the comment on "Mine".

NecroPrincess7: for her continued support and the review of that "story"

EtherealDemon: For not only leaving a comment to add to the hate mail that Fiore12 so justly deserves, but for also sending me a PM expressing her deepest sympathies.

Thank you to all for your continued support. You have no idea just how wonderful it feels to have so many people in my corner. I will never, ever forget it.

And now, on with the story!

Restless Night

Warning: This story contains graphic imagery of Damon in all his naked glory, enjoying his "alone-time" if you know what I mean ;) If for some reason you're offended by that, then don't read this one.

Oh, and I don't own Vampire Diaries, but consider the writing ALL MINE!

He could hear them; he could actually fucking hear them up there in Stefan's room! Every low moan; every squeak of the mattress; hell, every soft little gasp and sappy word of undying love was being picked up right now thanks to his super-sensitive vampire hearing. He should get out of here, go to the Grille and get fucking wasted until the sounds of his brother fucking (no, that would imply there was something more passionate going on, and St. Stefan wasn't capable of that kind of passion…making love seemed more accurate here) out of his head. He heard a soft little whimper coming from her and clenched his jaw tightly; he had no idea why this was killing him so much, but it was. Before Georgia, he'd been able to deal; probably because she hadn't been sleeping with his brother yet. Now, it was unbearable torture to hear her up there with him, making those soft little noises as his sainted little brother made sweet, tender love to her night after fucking night. He didn't even know why it bothered him so much; especially when Stefan had pulled that same shit with Katherine and he hadn't even batted an eye. Damon had been (was still, he had to remind himself) in love with the fiery vampire temptress, regardless of the fact she was stringing both brothers along for her own amusement. Yet he had allowed her to have her way without once feeling the bile rise to his throat at the thought of her and his brother in bed together. Hadn't even reacted the night she'd decided she'd wanted them both at the same time, and he'd watched Stefan caress her so intimately and her respond to him in a way Damon had never seen her respond to him. No, he really didn't understand why he was feeling this way now; Elena wasn't his, never had been. She'd been Stefan's girl from the very beginning, and had regarded Damon as nothing more than the sadistic older brother who killed people for fun. That was, until she'd saved his life. Until she'd shown she cared about him.

Another gasp, another moan, this was getting ridiculous; he shouldn't want to hear this. But a part of him can't help torturing himself right now; knowing that if she were his…no, he can't think that. She's made her choice; she could have had him in Georgia if she'd only been willing to admit to him (and to herself) just why she'd bothered to save him. He can picture that look in her perfect brown eyes; so much like Katherine's, and yet hers have a light in them that warms his very soul (assuming he still has one; he was never very clear on that). They're back in the woods, and he's discovered the bitch (formerly known as Katherine) was never in the tomb; she never cared. But Elena does, even after everything he's done; after every desperate, violent attempt to bring back a woman who never really wanted him and was never really there, she cares. He doesn't know why that matters to him, but it does. She looks at him, sadness and tenderness in those eyes of hers, and she comes toward him slowly; her arms are around him now, he breathes in the scent of her hair. He's broken, devoid of all feeling at the moment; numb, cold, lost. But her warmth and that nameless emotion surround him and though he gives no indication of it, he wants to lose himself in that warmth that she's giving him freely, without compulsion or fear. He realizes now, with perfect clarity, that he wants her; and he can't have her because she is dating his brother.

His mouth twitches up into that cocky smirk he's practically made his trademark; he may not be able to have her, but that didn't mean he couldn't fantasize about her. Besides, this was his house too, and he would be damned if he was about to let an opportunity like this go to waste. He could really only hear Elena anyway, since his brother wasn't the vocal type; how convenient for this particular occasion.

Damon's hands work quickly, divesting himself of his dark jeans and leaping onto the dark covers of his king-size bed. He doesn't bother to get under the blankets; no one would walk in on him anyway. Elena's moans of pleasure echo in his perfect ears as he closes his eyes, savoring the sound; he knows (he's not sure how, but he knows) she can get louder than that. If she were here with him right now, he'd do his damndest to make sure of that.

In his mind, he can picture her soft, pouty lips; he wishes he'd be allowed to taste them. He imagines she'd taste like a fine wine or perhaps even the darkest chocolate covered, juicy strawberry; sinfully erotic and achingly sweet at the same time. God, how he wants to feel those lips against his; to slide his fingers through that luxurious long dark hair and pull her close. He'd come so close to doing just that when she'd taken off her necklace, telling him to ask her if she was lying now. Just the softest touch, the warmth of her skin as he placed the necklace back around her throat, had been like touching fire; she burned him with the intensity of her eyes and the heat of her skin. He had heard her heart pounding in her chest, had heard her shallow breathing and could have sworn the air around her had smelled a little sweeter as he'd moved in. The whole encounter was playing in his head like a movie, only in this version she bridged the gap between them. His mouth was on hers, her fingers tangled in his hair, and that lithe, perfect body of hers was pressed against him fully; he had her against the wall before she could even blink.

Damon felt the ache in his loins; his dick was unbelievably hard at the thought of Elena against that wall and he gripped it tightly. He squeezed his shaft, pumping it up and down as hard as he could to relieve the itch he'd started. Elena let out another little gasp and in his mind Damon trailed his lips down her neck; sucking and nipping at her sensitive flesh. Her nails raked his shoulders, frantically tearing at his shirt; he ground his hips into her, lifting her up so that he was pressing directly over that little bundle of nerves that made any woman go insane with pleasure when stroked just right. The Elena upstairs let out a little moan; but Damon was no longer aware of what was actually real. His hand squeezed his hard flesh, the head of his dick now so thick and swollen that the slightest brush of his thumb over it was driving him wild.

"Fuck…Elena," he moaned low in his throat, not caring if Stefan heard it; he wasn't even aware of Stefan right now, too lost in his own thoughts to give him any thought. Elena was writhing against him, moaning and crying his name in rapture as he feasted on her breasts like a man starved. He'd torn her shirt open at the neckline; her bra lay in a pile of shredded black lace on the floor. Her little hands were currently working him through the material of his jeans and he was moving them both over to a nearby table; she was getting him so worked up he couldn't even stand anymore. Her hands slipped inside, gripping his hard cock and pumping him hard; she pressed her thumb just under the head before lightly stroking over it. Fluid was already leaking from his tip, causing her to glide over him; he pulled his hips back, not wanting to come just yet.

"Damon, I want you," she said in his mind; her voice was breathy, full of need and he could not deny her. Within seconds they were both naked; he sliced into her hot, wet, swollen body and she cried out at their union. "Oh, fuck, you're so…" she let out a loud, gasping cry as he pushed his hips upward to stroke that sweet spot inside her. He didn't need to know what she was about to say; he knew his size was a very pleasant surprise for her. It should be, after all, he knew Stefan could hardly claim to be better than him in that department.

Another gasp, another moan; Damon worked furiously, his fingers practically digging into his flesh in time to Elena's cries upstairs. She was close, and so was he; he bucked his hips up into his hand, imagining it was her he was driving into. So hot; so tight; so wet; it was all he could think as he worked his cock in his hand. His other hand slid down to grip over the head, massaging with his palm as his other hand picked up the pace; pumping up and down in a rhythm that could only be considered vampire speed.

Elena screamed his name as he pumped into her at a maddening pace; her legs locking and convulsing in spasms around his hips. Her nails were clawing into his back, pulling him closer, wanting him harder; he gave her everything she asked for and more. She threw her head back, her chest heaving and her nipples puckering into tight little buds; goose-bumps were forming on her skin along with thin little beads of sweat.

"Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!" she screamed into his mind, her orgasm just a thrust away. And then she lifted her head; her eyes were burning with the fire of her passion. "Do it," she commanded, tilting her head to the side. He felt his vampire features emerging, but she didn't recoil from him; if anything she looked even more aroused. His head lowered, he pressed his lips to the side of her neck where her pulse was beating rapidly. She moaned, shivering beneath him. He held her close, slowing down the pace of his thrusts inside her; determined to make her feel every inch of him as he took her. He nipped at her skin, eliciting little gasps of pleasure, and then he pulled his hips back, his mouth still on her neck; he drove them forward as his teeth sank into her. She screamed, but not in pain or with fear; no, her scream was of pure ecstasy as he drank from her willing body. Her blood filled his mouth, slid down his throat, warmed every cell of his body; she was intoxicating and most importantly, she was his. She was bucking against him, body convulsing as the inferno hit her. She clung to him like a vice, her nails actually digging into his flesh; he was certain that there would be marks on his skin afterward.

He came hard; his cock twitched in his hand, spurting the hot white liquid all over him and the covers of his bed. At the same time, he heard Elena let out another little sigh and scoffed, rolling his eyes; if she honestly thought that was an orgasm…He let out a frustrated growl; knowing that he could satisfy her so much better than that. She deserved to have someone who knew how to satisfy her; he wished for the hundredth time tonight that she was his to satisfy. If he had her, even for one night, she would know pleasure beyond anything she had ever experienced. His cock hardened again at the thought of her on his bed right now; her legs splayed across his dark sheets as he buried his tongue between those sweet folds and tasted all her secrets.

Elena's breathing upstairs began to slow; she had fallen asleep. Damon sighed, rolling off his bed and pulling the soiled bed cover off to toss into the corner; he'd deal with the mess later, but first he needed a shower—a cold one.

The End