A/N: Okay guys, here is the final chapter! *wipes tears* Thank you all so much for the never-ending support and love, for all the hits and favs and follows and for every single review. There just aren't words to describe the many thanks I wish I could give every one of you.

Episode point of reference: Damon and Elena just had a whole bunch of super fun sexy times (WITHOUT a voice over *cough cough*) and we're gonna pick right up from there. Because when in doubt, just add more sex? Right?

Dear Trogdor19, you may not have beta'd this chapter but in a way, you did, and this one is for you. Because your (written) voice is always in my head telling me to do better, and every time I dare to write a semi colon, use the word "heart" or "enough" I can feel your eyes in the back of my head. And for this, I will always thank you. You have supported me thru multiple bouts of writers block, waged war for and with me against characters that can be incredibly stubborn, and you always have the words I need to keep me going, and laughing. Love girl.

DAMON POV

Blood and Chocolate

I'm lying on my stomach, savoring each fluttering brush of the soft little lips kissing my shoulder. Elena's petting my lower back and even after an hour like this, I'm still regaining my breath. My head is in the best kind of fog, the kind brought on by multiple orgasms and not even knowing how many she had. But it was more than me, and that's all I care about.

I don't know if I've ever been this happy or comfortable in all my long years. She hasn't stopped soothing me since I had the best orgasm I will never understand or forget, and her skin is hot where she's pressed into my side, her leg wound over mine so we're all nice and tangled.

My eyes are closed as I focus on her scent, and it's citrus lotion and a little sweat and my fabric softener and a whole lot of dirty sex. They could bottle this and price gouge the fuck out of it and everybody would still buy it anyways because nothing smells this good. But I smile when I realize that nobody can steal this.

This is all mine.

"I'm hungry," she whispers and nibbles on my skin.

"You're new."

"I meant human food," she lightly laughs and bites me again, harder this time.

"There's no way in hell I'm getting out of bed. You killed me, I'm dead," I grin at her with my eyes closed.

"I want something sweet."

"I'm sweet, eat me."

I hear the ruffling of fabric and feel the slide of her skin as she slips between me and the sheet that's over my legs, straddling my hips and leaning forward to press her breasts into my back. God, she's so soft its borderline unnatural. And I know soft, I pay for it. But Elena's skin can best any thread count no matter how exotic the silk and she's my absolute favorite blanket.

Her hands work themselves under my arms and grip my shoulders from the front, using me to anchor us closer together. She nuzzles the back of my neck and I can't help but to squirm as she tickles me with her eyelashes, brushing against the base of my hairline.

She's peppering little kisses on my skin so light I can barely feel them, and my boneless arms reach down to touch the only part of her I have the strength to find, grazing my fingers over her knees. I reach further up her thigh and she erupts in delicate little goose-bumps at my touch.

Woman is going to be the glorious death of me.

"Damon…" she says in a sing-song tease and I don't know what she wants, but whatever it is she can have it as long as I don't have to move ever again.

"Hmm…"

"Time to get up, you're gonna be late for school."

"Born in 1840, Gilbert. In-home tutors, but nice try," I grumble out of the side of my mouth.

"How about…you're going to miss last call?" she whispers, her breath hot and caressing my ear.

"Men need rest, child. Especially after that."

"Fine, Grandpa," she says and I feel her sit up, tracing random patterns on my skin with her nails and it feels nothing short of amazing. "Then I'm going to go downstairs, make a fabulous mess in your kitchen, and you can stay here and sleep."

"Like hell you are."

I get one quick kiss placed perfectly over my spine before she giggles and I'm suddenly freezing. I turn my head just in time to see a flash of cream-colored fabric floating around my open doorway because she actually took the damn sheet with her as she bounded off the bed and blurred out of the room. That shit is just pure evil.

Not even a minute goes by before I hear a drawer in the kitchen slam shut followed by the rattling of silverware and I smile. She's going to have to try harder than that.

Next is something that sounds like a stainless steel bowl clattering on the floor, followed by an adorable and giggly, "Oops."

Nope, I'm not moving.

The subsequent crash is massive, and it sounds like she just introduced every pot and pan I own to the tile beneath her bare feet. But she's not laughing.

Great.

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit…" I hear her mumble and I'm up and grabbing a pair of boxers before I can think about what she probably just broke. Woman is a damn tornado of destruction and doom, and it's fine when it's my clothes but my kitchen is another thing entirely. And if she's cursing, it does not bode well for my breakfast plans.

I pad down the stairs loud enough that she can hear me coming and I wait to hear her scrambling around to try and minimize the damage before I get there, but she's quiet. I take a breath to prepare myself when I step into the kitchen, but I don't get any further than the doorframe.

Elena's sitting on the counter, wrapped in the best use of a sheet I've ever seen. She has it under her arms, one corner tucked in between her breasts. Her crossed legs are peeking out from where it's open, her foot swinging lazily and prompting the sheet parting at the top of her thighs to pull and shift like any second it's going to reveal the heaven between her legs.

She's planned this flawlessly, right down to the tiny section of fabric that's dipped between her legs to make it impossible for it to actually fall away. I know she's watching me gawk at her, and I could try to make some sort of joke and play it smooth but all I really want to do is stare this image into my brain so that one day when I forget everything else, this will still remain.

She smiles coyly and leans back on her hands, her foot kicking the edge of the sheet that's dangling down the cabinet to draw my attention, as if she didn't have it already. I pull myself together enough to give her a half-smile and cross my arms, leaning against the doorway casually like this isn't making me want to burn all her clothes and insist that she is only allowed to wear my bed sheets for the rest of her eternal life.

She blushes and my pulse dances. This ought to be good.

As I watch she uncrosses her legs, keeping them tightly together to tempt me with what I can't see. But she can't keep the sheet tucked between them as she rearranges her limbs and gravity is my new best friend. The edges drop and it opens all the way to where it's secured between her breasts, the Bermuda triangle of legs, hips, and stomach all wonderfully on display. She shakes her hair out while my jaw is probably on the floor somewhere, tightly re-crossing her legs in the opposite position and still managing to keep herself shielded.

Fucking hell she is the sexiest thing I have ever seen. And her little design worked impeccably because as spent as I was two minutes ago, I'm now burning with adrenaline and the urging poison of testosterone and I want what she's hiding from me.

I have no idea how she manages to reach inside me and shake away all the parts until I'm nothing more than carnal nature, but she does. And I honestly don't know if I tried to speak that it would come out in anything other than prehistoric grunts and growls.

Damon. Want. Elena.

Fucking roar.

Her eyes drop down to my boxers and settle on the evidence of my interest, her skin flushing and heart speeding up and it only makes me swell more. I love that she can't seem to resist me, as powerless as I am to her.

I spare a quick glance around the kitchen to see what destruction she used to get me down here, but everything appears to be in order. There's a steel bowl next to her on the counter, along with a metal serving spoon. The pots and pans hooked to the ceiling above her are slightly swinging and as I look at them and cock an eyebrow at her, her shoulders shake in her guilty laughter.

Crafty little temptress, my girl is.

I don't say anything as I push off the doorframe, shaking my head at her and going to the refrigerator. I root around in the back until I find my stash, because Stefan may be brainless but he knows I buy the best ice cream and he will devour that shit if he finds it. It's total bullshit, especially since he knows I have it delivered all the pricey way from fucking Oregon.

I retreat with the pint of Coffee Almond Fudge Tillamook and fresh strawberries, grabbing a spoon and closing the drawer with my hip before I set everything on the counter next to her. She watches wide eyed as I scrape a bite-sized chunk of frozen nirvana and hook it onto the point of the berry, tilting it towards her in offering. She licks and bites her bottom lip, leaning forward just an extra inch towards me.

I pull it away from her and bite it in half, rolling my eyes back dramatically at the taste. I have my own internal fist pump when I hear her suck in a breath.

Her eyes are scorching when I open mine to hers, peeking up at her from under my eyelashes. I half smile and lick my lips and I'm one hundred percent successful in getting her heart to stutter.

She's so much fun.

"Ass," she huffs and grabs my neck, pulling my mouth down to hers.

I'm grinning like the love crazed fool I am as her tongue slips between my open lips, her rush of need and impatience stopping when she finds the flavor on me. Her moans vibrate down my throat, her strokes thick and hot and slow but powerfully intense and I fucking love kissing this girl.

"Mmm, you taste like chocolate," she whispers as she pulls back just enough to speak, but she can't seem to stay away.

She lingers with soft and plump kisses, sucking and nibbling on my bottom lip and I'm more than happy to let her enjoy me to her heart's content while I stand next to her, trying to sneak my hand up her thigh.

She finally separates us, leaning back on her hands and staring at my lips.

"Is that what you had in mind?" I ask and prepare her one of her own, handing it to her with a flare of my eyes.

"Mmm-hmm," she grins triumphantly, biting it in half and red juice dribbling down her chin.

Jesus Christ.

She giggles and squirms as I growl and go after it, kissing and licking the sticky sweetness up to her mouth and playful tongue.

"Delicious," I say quietly with my lips grazing hers, and she blushes.

Ladies and gentlemen, it's official.

The most adorable thing to walk this planet is in my kitchen wearing nothing but a bed sheet, blushing because she's so sweet that this is probably a little kinky for her. And that in itself is a huge contradiction because I could rattle off a list of shit that we just did that makes this look tamer than holding hands.

God, I love her.

Her eyes are still a little hazy when I lean back and take up the pint, spooning a bite first into her mouth and then into mine.

"OhmyGod," she mumbles, covering her mouth with her hand. "What is this?"

"Milk, cream, sugar-"

"Damon…"

"It's just ice cream, Elena," I laugh and give her another bite.

"No, it's not," she says, trying and failing to talk around a full mouth before swallowing the rest of it. "That is sex on a spoon."

I nearly spit out the bite I just took, actually coughing and choking just a little bit.

"You all right there, Gramps? Did I shock your delicate sensibilities?" she mocks with a wicked little pout.

"You better stop calling me that or you're gonna get yourself in a whole lot of trouble," I warn, pointing the spoon at her.

"Maybe I want to be in trouble."

"Mm-hmm." I look away and act like I'm getting another bite, but instead of bringing it to my mouth I flick it at her so it lands on her neck.

"Damon!" She jumps in shock, her hands immediately moving to where it landed but I catch them, having thrown everything down in time to stop her from spoiling my fun.

I smile at her and hold her still, letting it slide and melt its way down to the top of her breast. I stop it with my tongue just before it touches the sheet, licking and kissing back up the trail it made before I stop and press what's left of it into her neck.

She shivered a bit the whole time, and I know it has to be cold on her skin. But now that I'm over her vein, she's fully trembling.

She's too good to resist.

I prick her just enough to let a few drops flow and she gasps in surprise, but I can sense her want and she is crazy turned on. It only drives me more. Nothing tastes as good as she does, but mix it with chocolate and coffee and almonds? Even with my restraint and control its damn near impossible to stop.

I make myself pull away and release her hands so I can un-hook her legs, stepping in between them before finally tearing the sheet away so she's bare before me. She's arching into my hands as I slide them up her back, kissing her deeply and cupping her neck in my palm.

I turn and grab another strawberry, biting just the tip off before I return to her. I massage my fingers into her scalp and she tilts her head back just like I want her to, her lips parting and eyes closed while her legs tighten around my waist. I trace her lips with it slowly, watching them stain red. She sucks her bottom one into her mouth and I can't help but smile at her impatience. I trace it again.

"Wait," I whisper and she whimpers at me.

I toss it into the sink and grab the spoon, leaving a tiny dollop on my tongue before I go to her neck. She's already healed so I tenderly open her vein again, letting her blood trickle into my mouth.

She gasps when I lick at her lips to get the last taste I want, opening her mouth to mine. It's the unequivocal explosion of sensation when our tongues meet, hot breath and cold cream and sweet and citrus and blood swirling between us until it all blends into one indefinable essence.

It's euphoric.

There's a slice of pain in my lip and I feel it start to bleed, realizing with an eager groan that her teeth have descended. She pulls against it and I return the favor, enjoying the last hints of flavor on her lips. Her kiss is rough and sharp, her hands grabbing at my hips and shredding my boxers until I'm free for her to wrap her fingers around.

My whole body jerks at her touch, still over sensitive from our earlier sex. She strokes me once and I didn't think it was possible to get any harder, but apparently I was wrong. Her thumb sweeps over my head and that's it, I can't wait anymore.

I lean her back gently, guiding her with my hand behind her neck and another between her breasts until she's lying on the counter with her hair fanned out around her.

Her back bows as I kiss my way down her body, relishing in the taste of her skin when it's clean and pure. I pause when I reach her hip, nipping at it playfully until she's writhing on the counter.

Oh yeah, we're gonna have some fun.

I grab a strawberry and lean over her, touching it to her lips. She kisses it and I almost come right there because damn.

"Bite it, baby," I whisper and she does, smiling with her eyes closed.

I make myself move as slowly as possible, dragging the remaining half from her neck to the dip between her breasts, dashing a dotted line down to her stomach.

"Damon, I'm going to be all sticky," she quietly giggles.

"Mmm," I rumble, running my tongue over the red trail and cleaning it off her from belly to breasts. Her whole body is shivering by the time I reach her neck, her breaths increasingly shallow and her hips rolling towards me with demand.

She gasps when I tease her nipples with the fruit, circling each carefully before taking them into my mouth. I take my time, rolling and savoring them and not drawing away until I'm sure they're spotless.

I back myself down her body, keeping our skin close enough to barely graze. When I reach her hips I allow her one kiss on the shaved skin where the front of her panties would be if she was wearing any. She's already flirting with the edge of her control, and if I head straight for home without warning it's probably going to shock her into orgasm. I want to keep her on the threshold for as long as I can, and it's in both of our favor to let her take my hint and prepare herself for what she knows I'm going to do.

I wrap one arm under her leg and prop it on my shoulder, opening her up beautifully to me. I pause, not touching her or kissing but just letting her squirm in expectancy. When she starts to whimper I give in to her, blowing a light and steady stream of air from her entrance up to her clit. Her hips are rolling faster, and the hand I have splayed on her stomach to keep her still tells me she's close, her muscles faintly wanting to spasm and clench.

I press harder into her belly to remind her to lie still, kissing the inside of her thigh so she knows it's coming, just not as soon as she wants. I'm having too much fun.

I smile to myself in anticipation. I have no idea how she's going to react, but it's bound to be fantastic.

Very carefully, I touch her clit with the strawberry.

"Damon!" she squeaks and if it wasn't for my hand holding her to the counter, her hips would have bucked clear off. "You…" she pants, "you can't do that…"

I try not to laugh, she's so cute. Instead, I flick my tongue once over her clit, moaning at the sweetness.

"Oh God, Damon…"

"Tell me why we can't do this again?" I whisper.

"Do what?"

Another press of berry and swipe of my tongue, and she twitches at the first but melts at the second.

"Sticky…" she breathes.

"Tasty."

I kiss the inside of her thigh as I pet the skin of her stomach, pleased when I feel it start to shake under her quiet laughter.

"And it's cold," she pouts at me with a hint of a smile. She lays one arm behind her head so she can better see me, lacing her other fingers through mine and holding them flat against her.

"That's half the fun," I smirk.

"You are so bad," she grins and shakes her head.

"Mm-hmm," I nod with another kiss to her leg. "And evil," I say, pressing my lips closer to her center. "And reckless…"

"Dangerously sexy," she purrs.

"Absolutely rotten..."

Her giggle stops instantly when I circle her with my lips, kissing her slow and soft and losing myself in the taste of her. She moans and her fingers weave into my hair, gripping in harmony with each circuit of my tongue. There's nothing as satisfying as getting her to lose control, to abandon all sense of inhibition and pull me closer.

I take my time teasing her, using my full arsenal of tongue and lips and teeth to build her orgasm. I don't know how to control the craving in me, longing for the pitch of her voice she only reaches when she cries out my name in climax because other than gasping for breaths she doesn't need, it's the only other thing that she knows.

She trembles in release, calling my name over and over and over again. I want to forget all my words and the sound of my mother's voice, the whispering of curtains against windows and the ruffling of sheets. I don't want to know anything else but her, but I make myself bid farewell to the source of my symphony because even though she's no longer human, I need to let her breathe.

I straighten and look her over, and as my eyes skirt over olive skin I find that I'm still in awe that I'm allowed to see her. And not only see, but touch and taste and feel and caress and love and just…everything.

"What?" she whispers with a smirk, faintly blushing at me openly staring at her.

You're the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

You've changed my whole life in more ways than you'll ever know.

The only thing I want in this whole world is to make you smile.

I will never give you up.

And I don't know how to tell you any of this, but I really hope you know.

"Nothing," I smile and shake my head at her, bending to kiss her stomach and allowing my hands to explore her.

She weaves her fingers over mine as I cup and massage her breasts, and I let her guide me when she layers all four together and rests them over her heart.

"Damon, look at me," she says quietly and I make myself do as she says.

She pulls one hand free to cup my face, making sure my eyes stay locked with hers. She squeezes my hands that are over her chest, pressing them deeper into her skin.

"Yours."

Mine.

I drop my forehead to her stomach, my breath sneaking past the grin I didn't give permission to rise. But there's no controlling the uptick in my pulse, the drug of relief and adrenaline in the knowledge that she's right here. It's not stolen, it's not forbidden, it's not only once and I don't have to worry about tomorrow. She won't have to jump over my balcony, disappearing into the trees and I'm safe to fall asleep with her in my arms, not wondering if she'll still be here when I wake up.

She's mine.

I draw my hands from her grasp, sliding them under her back so I have her shoulder blades settled in my palms. I straighten and bring her with me, draping her arms around my neck and her head follows, her lips brushing the top of my shoulder. Her body is loose and molds to me, not offering the slightest resistance as I scoot her forward so we're impossibly closer.

She is slick and warm and I enter her easily, sliding into all that is familiar and welcoming but still somehow new. My hand on her back holds her to me, pressing all the endless inches of perfect skin deeper into my chest. I weave my fingers into her hair, her cheek brushing mine and her ragged breaths hot over my ear. It would be so easy to give into it all and thrust hard and fast, but I don't. I want it to go on forever.

I roll my body as slow as I can manage, and with each lengthy stroke I feel everything that she is. Her trust in each pause as I pull back out, making us wait until we join again. Her forgiveness as she stretches to adapt to me, to receive all that I am. She's patient with me as I stop to caress her skin, to trace the leg that's wrapped around my waist and holding me to her. She leans into my kiss when I want her lips, and away from me so I can take her neck. She knows exactly what I want and gives it to me, understanding that the only thing that matters is enjoying her.

I don't know how going so slow makes everything so much more intense. I stop completely, buried inside her and her nails cut into my back. I startle and shift my weight as the grandfather clock strikes and the suddenness of my movement undoes her completely, her teeth sinking into my shoulder as she squeezes and melts over me.

I focus on every throb of her release and the steady contraction brings my own, wrenching sensation from every extremity. It claws to be free all the way from my toes to the tips of my hair, surging through veins until it collects in my hips and burns to find her. It's the sweetest contradiction, raw, exploding passion without ever moving.

My legs are shaking as I try to re-find time and purpose, but all I can feel is her breath on my skin and her heartbeat against mine as I rest my forehead in the safety of her neck.

"Well," she pants, a smile in her voice. "That was different."

"Mm-hmm." I should probably try to tell her something sweet and romantic and soft but I forgot how to speak. And even if I did remember how to form words, the only thing to come from them would be teases and sarcasm because that's the easiest way to tell her I love her. At least she knows it.

"Tired?" she whispers, twirling delicate little painted fingernails through my hair.

I nod and she giggles. I love it when she does that. I press my lips to her collarbone and she sighs, content.

"Love me?" she asks so quietly I barely hear her voice as it drifts over me, tenderly touching every place that I'm vulnerable. I nod again and I feel her mouth curve into a smile against my temple. "More than blood and chocolate?"

I raise my head and look into her eyes, struck by what I find. She was never supposed to love me as much as I love her, but it's all there.

"And strawberries," I grin and kiss her softly, just because I can.

FIN

A/N: So, there we have it! Thanks all again for reading, and in the meantime feel free to check out some of my other work. If you like the angsty, head over to Defining Desperation where Damon and Elena try to break each other during his attempts to return her humanity. Or for some pure silly ridiculousness, check out Princess Elena: A Fairytale (of sorts) in which we rehash seasons 1-4 of TVD, fairytale style, with some colorful opinions of a cranky narrator thrown in for shiggles. And if you really wanna make my day, click the follow author button because while I don't actively have anything up my sleeve for Delena right now, you just never know. That, and I'm totally susceptible to peer pressure.

Love you all, thanks for reading!

-Goldnox