Vampire Diaries Splash

**This is my second official fanfic story, so I'm nervous enough as it is; if you have any criticisms to offer, please make them constructive and useful so that I can apply them to my writing. All thoughts and comments are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!**

**Also, as it is and will be with the majority of my writing, beware of smut. Be mindful of the M rating. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to The Vampire Diaries or related franchises. I just like to play with the characters. **

_Suddenly she wondered how she had managed to end up here, on her knees, staring up at him; the coldness of the marble floor penetrated her kneecaps and chilled her to the bone._

_He was beautiful; that much she couldn't deny. But his soul was as black as coal – or so it seemed. If he had a softer side, he hid it well. She had yet to see any goodness in him. Anger and hatred seemed to be the only emotion he expressed, rolling off of him in waves even now as he glared down at her, his jaw clenched and his eyes black._

_And yet that hadn't deterred her from sinking to her knees before him to wrap her lips around his length._

_When she moaned around him, the vibrations causing him to shudder involuntarily, she felt power course through her body. It was then that she came to a conclusion:_

_There was something wrong with her._

_Part of her soul was just as black as his._

0000000

He stared at her from across the ballroom as his older brother approached her. His sharp hearing picked up on their conversation, and he listened intently.

"So, how was my mother?" Elijah asked gently. He had always held a grudging respect for the brother that looked most like him but acted so differently. He marveled at Elijah's deep voice, so calm and soft, instantly putting the pretty doppelganger at ease, slowing her frantic heartbeat. Only those close to Elijah could hear the almost undetectable hardness in his tone, a smooth predatory purr that slithered off of his tongue like silk. Elijah had always been more charming than the rest of his family; Kol himself was volatile and unpredictable, Rebekah selfish and petulant, while Niklaus had always been oversensitive and quick to anger. Finn seemed to possess a unique awkwardness that the rest of his siblings lacked. But Elijah – Elijah possessed a quiet confidence that made him quite possibly the most dangerous member of their family. What held him back, in Kol's opinion, were his obnoxious bleeding heart and his unshakable respect for humanity; they were the only things standing in his way of world domination, as Kol saw it.

So instead, Kol now occupied the coveted position of most dangerous member of the Mikaelson family. Despite Klaus's hybrid status he was afraid of his youngest brother – and rightfully so. Kol's explosive nature, combined with a penchant for violence and an overall lack of empathy for others, made being in his presence downright perilous. As much as he loved his family – and he did, in his own way – he would not hesitate to dispatch any of them if rubbed the wrong way. Therefore even his siblings were wary of him, making sure to tread carefully around him as to avoid his erratic spurts of wrathful hostility.

Kol _loved_ it.

Kol heard the doppelganger's heart flutter and could almost smell her nervousness. He smirked, knowing Elijah had undoubtedly picked up on it too; but his brother's face remained emotionless. He had perfected an impeccably smooth façade in his thousand years on Earth. It was something Kol would never be able to emulate.

"Intense," the girl said – what was her name again? Ah, _Elena_ – gracing Elijah with a forced smile, the corners of her lips tight.

He spaced out for a moment, staring at her lips and drifting down to the smooth expanse of her neck – and _what a neck it was._ His eyes glittered when he imagined what those perfect lips would look like wrapped around his cock; what her blood would taste like when he sunk his fangs into her throat.

As well as being the most vicious of his family members, Kol also had the highest sex drive. It was nearly impossible for him to look at a woman without picturing her on her back – or, as he preferred, on her hands and knees. The thought made his eyes wander down Elena's body, covered by the layers of her ball gown but no less tempting for it.

He liked a little mystery when it came to a woman's body. It made seeing it for the first time that much more satisfying.

Just as his mind had wandered to how much he'd like to strip her of her dress and plunge his cock into her tight pussy, he was jolted out of his reverie when his mother announced a toast.

Automatically bringing the flute of champagne to his lips, his eyes once again slid over to the doppelganger. He was surprised to see her staring back.

His breath hitched when her eyes flicked down to the glass in his hand before coming back up to meet his gaze. There was a desperate gleam reflected in her deep brown orbs and she frowned, giving him an imperceptible shake of the head.

Her expressive eyes conveyed the message loud and clear; she didn't have to say a word.

_Don't drink the champagne._

He raised his eyebrows in return, toasting her with his glass with a sly smirk, signaling that he understood what she was trying to tell him. His eyes followed her gaze to his eldest brother, who stood near his mother on the steps. Finn glanced at her in return; his eyes were sharp and calculating. When her lovely brown orbs once again met his own dark stare, her expression told him all he needed to know. He had never met anyone who could communicate so clearly with his or her eyes.

Anger coursed though him, but the only outward signs were the ticking of his jaw and the twitch of his eyebrow. His mother was trying to kill them. _Finn_, with his pathetic self-loathing, was trying to kill them.

Un-_fucking-_believable. So much for forgiveness and a fresh start.

Touching the rim of his glass to his lips, he pretended to drink, staring at her all the while.

After the toast and endless amounts of small talk with the annoying locals, he made sure to catch her eye from across the room. It wasn't hard – she had been sending him furtive glances throughout the festivities. His face settled into his typical smug expression, his lips quirking up at the corners, and he gave a subtle jerk of his head, his eyes moving towards the hallway to the left wing. She nodded in understanding and smoothly excused herself from the circle of people she'd been chatting with. He was impressed with her tact.

Waiting a moment after she disappeared into the dark hallway, making sure all eyes that followed her had drifted back to their original conversations, he followed her. The Salvatore brothers' gazes took the longest to shift. He growled in annoyance. Idiotic lovesick fools.

The pathetic emotion in their eyes reminded him of a time when _he _was once a lovesick fool: back when he was human, before his mother had cursed them with vampirism. Out of all his siblings, he had been the first to embrace the darkness, leaving guilt behind him and allowing the bloodlust to take over. And, out of all his siblings, he had been the only one to remain that way for the entirety of his existence. Even his dreams, when he was daggered and put in a coffin, were filled with violence and bloodshed and the screams of his victims.

He preferred himself this way.

He leisurely strolled down the hallway, whistling. The light of the ballroom faded as he continued down the hall. He smiled when he heard the little doppelganger's heartbeat behind the door to one of the parlor/libraries. He had expected it to be pounding rapidly in fear – he tended to inspire that emotion in people – but it was steady and deep, never wavering. It jumped when he entered the room, but immediately resumed its even pace. It irritated him; he was used to panic and terror at his presence, and he relished in the smell of it – but as she turned to look at him, her eyes met his without hesitation. Her clear brown gaze was unusually unreadable, a stark contrast to the typical heart-on-her-sleeve expressions.

Elena put every ounce of will power she had into keeping her body from reacting to his presence. He closed the door behind him, and assumed a stance that was undeniably and probably unintentionally predatory. The gleam in his eyes, like two glittering pieces of polished obsidian, made her want to swallow, but she refused to allow him to see her discomfort. Because that's exactly how he made her feel: _uncomfortable._ She should have known better than to retreat, alone, into the mansion with Kol. He was, by far, the most unstable and impulsive of his siblings and, as Elijah had truthfully admitted to her once, it made him quite possibly the most dangerous member of their family. He was the dark horse, Elijah had said; even Klaus, with his hybrid strength, was wary, maybe even _afraid,_ of the youngest Mikaelson brother. Kol apparently had an unrivaled talent for inflicting pain.

So why was she here again? Oh, right.

Before she could open her mouth to speak, his accented voice, deceivingly soft, broke the silence.

"You surprise me, doppelganger."

She swallowed, finding her voice. Before she could think it through, her eyes flashed with heat and she replied, "It's Elena. Elena Gilbert." She cleared her throat, realizing how abrupt she had sounded, bordering on rude. But she was reluctant to let him see her regret, so she kept her voice strong as she continued. "If we're going to have this conversation, I'd prefer it if you didn't refer to me as _doppelganger._ I have a name. And considering that I just saved your life – against my better judgment," she said somewhat acerbically, her eyes narrowing, "it would be nice of you to use it."

He nearly laughed, wanting to scoff at her acidic tone and brazen words. He expected her to fall over herself apologizing, quivering in fear; when she continued to glare at him bravely he couldn't help but be amused. Perhaps this…human…was a little more than met the eye.

"I've underestimated you, Miss Gilbert," he said silkily. He chuckled. "You've managed to surprise me not once but twice in the span of a few minutes. Bravo." He sent her a wicked smile, one that always – he'd not encountered any exceptions in a thousand years – made women swoon and practically fall into his bed.

It seemed that she was the first to be immune. Once again he felt a wave of irritation flow through him, though this time it was directed not at the traitorous members of his family or the Salvatore brothers but at her, this _girl_, whose posture remained straight, knees unmoving, and whose heart did not flutter at all.

Furthermore, she dared to raise an eyebrow at him, tilting her head to the side, appraising him with intensity that made him strangely uncomfortable. "Should I give myself a pat on the back?" she said, her tone once again dripping in acid.

His face fell, his eyes narrowing. How dare she talk back to him in such a manner? He could break her like a twig!

He stepped forward, intimidation his goal. He would not kill her…yet. But maybe someday he would find her again, years from now after his brother's little hybrid army obsession faded. Then, perhaps, he would make her suffer. After he took pleasure in her body, of course. Seduce…then destroy. That was his pattern, and it worked well for him. It never got old.

It was only as he moved closer to her that a faint and subtle smell entered his nostrils; he sniffed. He kept his face impassive, but on the inside he smirked and cackled in glee.

The scent of the beginnings of her arousal, faint but noticeable to his keen senses, permeated his control to wrap around his cock, causing it to spring to life against his wish. She was _attracted _to him. Judging by the involuntary blush that travelled from her ample bosom to her cheeks, she knew that he knew.

She smelled delicious. Against his will, he found himself equally as attracted to her.

Rubbing his knuckles against the lapel of his tuxedo casually, he paced around the room. "So," he said nonchalantly, choosing to ignore her earlier scathing statement. He would let that one slide. "I assume by saving my life you meant stopping me from drinking the champagne?"

"You assume correct," she said haughtily, her head held high, refusing to let him get the better of her. He could hear her heart speed up, though it annoyed him that it had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with desire. He would have to teach her to be afraid. The girl's sense of self-preservation was seriously lacking, having lured him back here, _alone,_ in the first place.

"What was in it?" he asked, genuinely curious. What was his mother doing that she believed could kill an Original?

"My blood," she responded, her voice quieter now, her eyes softening. A guilty look crossed her features briefly before it returned to neutrality. He snorted. Silly humans with their silly emotions.

He continued to pace, and it suddenly occurred to her that he was walking in circles around her, his hands locked behind his back; like a hunter stalking his prey. Her eyes followed him with her peripheral vision, but when he stopped directly behind her she resisted the urge to turn, straightening her spine and looking resolutely ahead. She couldn't let him see her uneasiness. She _wouldn't._

He leaned down so that his mouth was next to her ear. "Why?" he asked, his breath puffing against her hair.

This time her heart definitely jumped, and she couldn't get it under control as it started thundering in her ears. If she could hear it, so could he.

Damned vampire senses.

"She used my blood to link you and your siblings together with a spell," she said, thanking whatever gods there were that her voice did not waver. "What happens to one happens to all. Finn volunteered for the sacrifice – offered to die by the white oak stake. She said she wanted to right the wrong she had done, destroy the abominations she had created. Her words, not mine," she quickly added as he growled behind her. The sound should have scared her. Instead, it sent an unwelcome tingle of desire throughout her body. She was mortified. How on Earth had she managed to develop an attraction to this hateful creature?

It was as if he was inside her head, because he responded to her internal question. "As despicable as you find me," he murmured in her ear, relishing in her shudder, "my darkness calls to you. You can't help but wonder," he breathed, licking the shell of her ear, "what it would feel like…for me to ravage you."

"Oh?" She tried to sound skeptical, but her voice quivered this time, her lip trembling. "You're a pompous ass. I think you're all talk." As soon as the words left her mouth she realized she had practically issued an invitation.

Taking it as such, he lifted her up and slammed her into the wall at vampire speed. One arm looped around her waist to pull her back against him; the other hand came up to her cheek, turning her head to the side and pushing her face against the wall. Her breath came out in short bursts and he ground his erection into her ass, relishing in the panic that had finally broken through her defenses and caused her heart to beat wildly inside of her chest.

Elena was now truly scared. He wouldn't kill her; no…he would be too reluctant to anger Klaus after having recently been awakened from his dagger-induced sleep. But he could hurt her. He _wanted_ to hurt her. She had to remind herself that Kol was not Elijah – there was no drive to be honorable, no sense of right or wrong. He had no regard for human life, and she guessed that she was no exception.

She prepared for the feeling of his fangs ripping into the delicate skin of her throat; instead she gasped in shock as he ground his hips firmly against her ass. The fact that she could feel his prominent erection through the layers of her gown was a testament to his…endowment. He wouldn't…would he? He couldn't possibly want her.

The fact was that he _did_ want her. The desire pumping through his dead veins surprised him. He had never been in the least bit enamored of Tatia or Katerina; he'd left that particular mistake to his brothers. He personally liked them blonde and petite and, dare he say, easily breakable. Why this doppelganger was different, he didn't know. He didn't really care all that much – all he wanted from her was the satisfaction of a quick fuck and to have her blood running down his throat until she was drained dry.

"All I want to do right now, _Elena_," he hissed in her ear, pressing her face harder against the wall, causing her to squirm in discomfort, "is to fuck you into oblivion until your weak, fragile human body breaks, and suck every single drop of blood from your delicious body." He nipped at the skin on her neck and purred as she tried to jerk away in fear. "Elijah would be devastated at the loss of his precious Elena…Klaus would be full of deadly rage, ready to dagger me again for another hundred years until he got over it.

"So much for my brother's dream of a hybrid army to keep him company. Imagine Niklaus's horrified expression when he found out his doppelganger blood bag no longer had any blood to give. Wouldn't that just be priceless?"

"He'd kill you," she choked out. Her heart leapt as his fangs grazed against her throat and the jutting length of his cock pressed more firmly between her ass cheeks.

He chuckled, and then abruptly tore her dress down the back, the fabric ripping like tissue paper under his hands. She gasped and shivered as the cold air hit her newly exposed skin.

"Nothing I haven't experienced before, darling." The animal in him raged in satisfaction when, free of her gown, she didn't even bother to turn around and defend herself. In fact, with the exception of her heartbeat and the goosebumps that appeared on her skin, she didn't react at all. It pleased him. He let his heated gaze wander over the back of her body, bare except for a scrap of black lace hanging low on her hips. He ran his knuckles from her neck down to her tailbone, unable to resist the alluring curve of her spine. Without using even a fraction of the strength he possessed, his hand could punch straight through her fragile body in one quick movement. It would be so easy. "I have a feeling it'll be worth it."

Her body trembled underneath the palm of his hand. "You don't have to do this," she said shakily. He could see that she was afraid, but could also sense the confusion warring within her; the sweet smell of her arousal still permeated his senses. He could almost taste her.

"You're right," he chirped, a smug smile spreading across his face. He ripped her panties from her backside and, one hand steadying her hips, reached down and swiped his fingers down the crack of her ass to run along her slit. She was wetter than he'd expected. He screwed two fingers inside of her, stretching her deliciously. He knew she'd be a hot fuck when her tight sheath squeezed down on his digits. They both groaned in tandem. "But I think you want me to."

"No." The push of her ass back against his wrist, lodging his fingers deeper in her center, belied her words. He pulled his hand back before thrusting his fingers into her again, keeping it shallow, teasing her.

Kol pulled his hand out and moved it around to press his wet fingers against her throbbing clit. His chest rested comfortably against her back and his nose skimmed across her bare shoulder, causing her to shiver.

"Make me stop," he whispered, rubbing her swollen bud in languid circles. "Tell me you don't want this, and I'll walk away."

She let out a low keen when he vibrated his fingers against her clit at an inhuman pace, simultaneously sliding his unrestrained hardness – when had he managed to remove his clothes? – between her ass cheeks. All it would take was a change of angle and a quick thrust of his hips and he would be inside her.

"You wouldn't stop…even if I asked you to," she forced out between pants, hating how breathy her voice sounded.

He hummed deep in his chest, pulling his fingers from her wetness completely, leaving her wanting. She was ready for him, but he resisted the urge to plunge into her core; this one was different from the others, although he didn't know why. Perhaps part of it was that she continued with her snarky comments, even as her desire for him threatened to overtake her body. She had strength, this human – he'd give her that much.

But her strength was no match for his persistence. He had never taken no for an answer, and wasn't about to start now.

"You're right," he replied, "I wouldn't. But it won't come to that – will it, darling?" he asked teasingly. "Tell me to stop," he said again, his voice harsh. "I dare you."

"I won't," she breathed out. "I _can't._"

With a roar of triumph he pulled her hips back and used his thumbs to spread her ass cheeks, watching as his cock disappeared into her tight pussy. They both groaned at the feeling. He gave her no time to adjust as he immediately began to move within her, transfixed by the sight of her juices coating his thick length.

"God, you're wet," he ground out. She pushed her hips back against his, meeting him thrust for thrust, and he took the opportunity to remove the rest of his clothing, impatiently tearing at the fabric. When he was completely naked he reached forward to brace his hands against the wall next to her head, pressing his muscular torso against the smooth expanse of her back. He angled his hips, hitting her deeper, and knew he'd found her sweet spot when she cried out and her hands scrabbled at the wall.

Elena moaned loudly as he continued to piston his hips to hit that spot deep within her, his pace relentless; if he went any faster or slammed into her any deeper, her pelvic bone would shatter. Mindful of the multitude of guests down the hall – he couldn't have one of his brothers or worse, the Salvatores, coming to investigate – his hand moved up to clamp over her mouth, attempting to quiet her. Perversely enough this turned her on even more, and he struggled to keep _himself_ quiet when her lips parted to suck one of his digits, still coated with her essence, into her mouth, his hand relaxing of its own accord.

"Hmmm…" she moaned, her eyes, though he couldn't see them, twinkling with mischief. "I taste good."

He hissed into her ear as her words, and he brought his soiled hand to his own mouth, licking her juices from his fingers. The flavor of her exploded on his taste buds, his control slipping away at the feel of her pulsating around him. "Damn right you do," he replied. He plunged into her cunt with abandon, pounding away at her recklessly; no longer mindful of the damage he could do to her body. Why did he care anyway?

He didn't. Kol hadn't let himself care in centuries.

Though he'd never really focused on making women orgasm – they were just a means to an end, the satisfaction of feeling them come apart beneath him just a bonus – he found himself wanting her to climax, screaming his name, as he found his release inside her pliant body. He relished in the little hiccups that escaped from her mouth, her back arching further so that her arms supported her against the wall, pillowing her head. She was helpless against the onslaught of his body as he stood up straight and leaned back, his hands roughly pulling her hips back to meet him thrust for thrust.

Looking to his left he met her gaze in the floor length mirror that sat in the corner. Her eyes were hazy and dark with pleasure and her breasts bounced enticingly with each slam of his dick into her pussy.

Elena watched, mesmerized, as the impossible length of his erection disappeared inside of her again and again, his movements a blur. They made an erotic sight, the image of their tan, sweat-slicked bodies pressed together enough to make anyone blush; he would never admit it, but the intimacy that they shared possessed a beauty that he had never seen while making love to a woman. The cant of his hips and the depth of his thrusts gave her the ultimate pleasure – the most intense pleasure she'd ever felt.

Her legs started to tremble and her inner walls began to flutter around him, her orgasm fast approaching. The look of utter desire in his coal-black eyes had her falling over the edge of sanity into bliss.

"Ko-o-ol…" His name on her lips made him tremble with arousal, his need for her overwhelming him more than ever before.

He continued to watch her lustfully as she came, his hand moving in rapid circles over her clit, drawing out her orgasm. She keened, eyes shut tightly, as her juices gushed out and around his cock, her pussy clenching around him before her body turned to jelly.

Without hesitation he sunk his fangs deep into the long column of her throat, expertly piercing her jugular for maximum blood flow. He silenced her scream with his hand against her mouth and she bit into the calloused skin of his palm as she came _again_, suddenly and violently, around his straining cock. _That _was unexpected. He continued to pull her blood into his mouth in long drags, the delectable taste stimulating his senses and jump-starting long-dead feelings inside his equally long-dead heart. He only pulled away when he felt her pulse slow down, licking his lips in satisfaction.

He didn't want to kill her just yet.

He pulled out of her only to spin her around and push her roughly to her knees, his proud cock jutting out at her with the arrogant cant of his hips. He grabbed a handful of her hair and took a moment to peruse her kneeling body with his lustful gaze, taking in the sight of her olive skin, stretched over her taut stomach, and her absolutely _perfect_ breasts, ripe and pert and hardened in the cool air. Rivulets of blood ran from the deep wounds in her neck down across her collarbone and shoulder to dribble down to her breast, staining the nipple bright red.

He let her thick, silky hair slide through his fingers as he guided her head to his cock. Despite the tiredness of her body from her intense orgasms and blood loss, she needed no urging from him, immediately opening her lips wide and taking his impressive manhood into the hot cavern of her mouth.

He resisted the instinct to close his eyes, deciding instead to watch her as she began to suck his cock in earnest. He managed to raise an eyebrow until his face slackened with pleasure, surprised at her skills in light of what he knew to be a brief and inexperienced sexual history. He guessed her instincts were innate – some women were just made that way. Regardless of how it came to be, he groaned as she swirled her tongue expertly around the head of his penis before deep-throating him, her lips coming down to the base of his cock. The ease with which she accomplished this feat was amazing, considering that the length of his manhood was…well…a little above average, to put it mildly. She twisted and bobbed her head as she sucked him off with all the skill and enthusiasm of a grade-A porn star. Her eyes, when they met his in a brazen stare, were positively _sinful._

Elena suddenly wondered how she had managed to end up here, on her knees, staring up at him; the coldness of the marble floor penetrated her kneecaps and chilled her to the bone.

He was beautiful; that much she couldn't deny. But his soul was as black as coal – or so it seemed. If he had a softer side, he hid it well. She had yet to see any goodness in him. Anger and hatred seemed to be the only emotions he expressed, rolling off of him in waves even now as he glared down at her, his jaw clenched and his eyes black.

And yet that hadn't deterred her from sinking to her knees before him to wrap her lips around his length.

When she moaned around him, the vibrations causing him to shudder involuntarily, she felt power course through her body. It was then that she came to a conclusion:

There was something wrong with her.

Part of her soul was just as black as his_._

Renewing her efforts, she brought her hand up to cradle his balls, feeling them tighten with his impending release. As she gave a particularly hard suck followed by a deft swirl of her tongue, he came, shooting his seed into her mouth. She swallowed every drop of cum that leaked from his penis, delighting perversely in his taste.

Her face sported a wicked grin as she sucked him off…and then continued sucking. He gasped when she pressed her lips to his sensitive balls, shooting pleasure straight to his groin. Grabbing the base of his semi-hard cock, she ran the flat of her tongue up the underside of his penis before letting the tip rest on her tongue. Her lovely eyes were dark with something he'd never before seen her express – utter sinfulness. Meeting his gaze, she slowly slid her mouth over his cock, swirling her tongue around it as she continued to move down until the head of his manhood hit the back of her throat. She hummed.

He closed his eyes and threw his head back, unable to hold back the loud groan that slipped from between his lips. His cock hardened to its full potential quickly as she started to move, bobbing her head up and down on his length until he was panting with desire and taking breaths that he didn't need. When she cradled his balls with her small hand and flicked her tongue rapidly against his weeping tip, he buried his hands in her hair and, with an embarrassing lack of control for someone with his experience, thrust his cock into her mouth.

She was a champ, taking it in stride and continuing to let him push his cock into her sweet mouth. "Christ, Elena," he growled as he buried his shaft to the hilt repeatedly in her open mouth. His head once again hit the back of her throat. Where was this woman's gag reflex? She used the perfect amount of saliva to facilitate the glide of his penis past her lips, flattening her tongue against the underside of his length and letting him have complete control. One of his hands remained tangled in the luxurious hair above her ear while the other went to the back of her head, pulling her to meet each thrust of his cock into her hot, wet mouth.

"Elena," he said again when her hand gently tugged on his balls, her mouth never faltering or going dry. He never used a woman's name during sex – in fact, he almost never _knew_ their names, preferring his conquests to remain anonymous to avoid becoming emotionally attached, which allowed him to kill them later without remorse.

_Great,_ he thought, _now I have her face AND her name imprinted in my mind._

When he saw pre-cum leak from the corners of her mouth, mingling with saliva and running down her chin, he snapped. Removing his cock from her pretty little mouth he threw her to the floor roughly, forcing her to her hands and knees. He sank to his knees behind her and, shoving her head and shoulders down to the marble floor and lifting her tight ass high into the air, rammed his hard cock into her cunt.

She moaned against the floor, her arms outstretched and pressed tightly to the cold floor. He paused, lodged inside of her, and she could feel him shaking with the effort to remain still.

Kol braced his hand in between her shoulder blades and pressed her harder into the stone beneath her. His other hand went to steady her hips, keeping them high in the air for easy penetration. She was essentially almost folded in half, so sharp was the angle of her torso to her lower body. The sight was tantalizing, and Kol took a moment to drink it in, his cock throbbing inside her tight sheath.

When she intentionally tightened her inner muscles around him, he decided the time had come for him to move. Pulling his dick out almost all the way, he let the tip tease her opening, making circles around her slick slit, spreading her juices around her entrance.

"What do you want, Elena?" he teased in a soft voice, tapping his dick against her clit.

She took in a sharp breath. "You. Please, Kol," she whined. She hated how easily he'd made her beg for him. She moved her hips from side to side, desperate for some kind of friction. She tried to bend even further, contorting her body to thrust her ass up even higher, if that were possible. She spread her knees wider by only an inch, but it was enough to put her glistening pussy on display right in line with his intense gaze. He inhaled deeply at the sight, suddenly needing air, though his lungs had long since stopped functioning.

"And how do you want me?" he asked, his silky voice taking on an edge.

Elena could tell he was loosing control, desperate to enter her again. She felt just as desperate; she felt filthy, wanting him to take her like this, bent double on her knees with her face on the floor and her butt in the air. Taking a chance, she boldly reached between her legs and grasped his hard length. She could wrap her hand around it, but just barely. She pumped it once, twice, heard him inhale shakily.

"Slow and deep. As deep as you can get," she replied, her voice husky with arousal. She tightened her grip on his manhood. "I want you to stuff me with your cock," she moaned into the floor, her womb gushing at the words –

"And then I want you to sink your fangs into me and drink."

Her last words had him surging forward with a roar, not caring who heard him now – he was going to fuck her senseless and then drink his fill until she passed out. And if anyone interrupted him, he'd _kill them._ Abandoning the primal urge to ram into her with vampire speed, he followed her direction, plunging into her with one fell stroke of his cock, working his way in so that his hip bones pressed firmly into her tight little ass and the head of his cock hit her womb. She squirmed in both pleasure and discomfort. She made an adorable little mewling sound in her throat when he slowly and painstakingly withdrew from her, her core milking him relentlessly. He ground his teeth and pulled out completely before mustering every bit of self-control he possessed and slamming back into her. She cried out when his length reached the far recesses of her womb.

"_Kol!"_

Thrust. In. Withdraw. Out. Thrust. In…

He hit her over and over again, driving her to orgasm; but when he felt her start to climb the slippery slope to climax, he withdrew from her and flipped her over. Still kneeling, he sat back on his heels and lifted her up to straddle his thighs as he entered her again. He wrapped his arms around her to support her, holding her to his chest in a deceptively gentle manner before roughly slamming up into her from below, pistoning his hips at a brutal speed.

Elena was in heaven or hell – at this point she wasn't sure which. He pounded into her recklessly, so quickly that she wouldn't be able to meet him thrust for thrust if she tried. She keened, throwing her head back and wrapping her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life.

The noises she was making were driving him crazy. He let his hands travel up and down her back, clutching her buttocks and keeping her in place for his overzealous thrusts into her wet core.

He felt her juices dripping down onto his abdomen and thighs. "You're so wet for me, darling," he said slyly, grinning at her.

She met his gaze, her eyes hot but beginning to glaze over with her fast approaching orgasm. She spoke, struggling to get the words out but making them count all the same.

"Yeah, well, I guess I have a thing for homicidal maniacal vampires."

The words were so deadpan that Kol couldn't help but laugh. "It seems you do," he replied, almost cheery. He didn't know what possessed him then: never breaking her gaze or slowing down the pace his hips kept, he leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. She did not pull away. Running her fingers through his hair she nipped at his bottom lip aggressively before pulling it between her lips, sucking it into her mouth. He moaned and shoved his tongue into her wet cavern, responding with equal ferocity. When she closed her eyes, he closed his. He delighted in the feeling of her hands in his hair.

He brought his hands down to her thighs and hitched them up higher around his waist, changing the angle and the depth of his thrusts. When her walls started to flutter around him he pulled back from their frenzied kisses to watch her.

She started to shake apart, her legs trembling and clamping down on his sides. She stared into his eyes.

"Please, Kol," she begged, her eyes flicking down to his lips. "Please…do it."

Ghosting his lips across her cheek and down to the unmarred side of her neck, he felt his fangs elongate and red cloud his eyes. Listening to her pounding heartbeat, her blood pulsing wildly through her veins, he bit tenderly into her jugular where her neck met her shoulder. She came instantly, screaming, and he clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries of release. He sunk his cock into her one more time before releasing his seed into her pulsing cunt.

He moaned as her blood filled his mouth, warm and smooth. Her taste was incredible – like vanilla, honeysuckle and that champagne that she'd partaken in a little bit too much tonight, combining with the coppery taste of human blood that sent his senses reeling. He couldn't get enough. Ignoring the pain it was causing her, he buried his face deeper into the crook of her neck, forcing his fangs to sink further into her artery.

The bloodlust was taking over. He felt it rise within him, the ever-present urge to slaughter his prey and drink his fill. The wide dead eyes of past victims sprang into his mind, flashing before his vision. Oh, the temptation.

He thought about where he was and whom he was with, and, annoyed, retracted his fangs from her throat, blood running down his chin.

Though he could sense she was on the verge of passing out, she smiled lazily at him, her arms still wrapped loosely around his neck. She shocked him when she leaned forward to lick a path from his neck to his mouth, collecting the blood that had escaped, before dipping her tongue quickly through his lips.

"You're a messy eater," she whispered against his lips, her husky voice, sounding like pure sin and sex, making his breath hitch.

When he kissed her, her blood mingling in their mouths, he questioned his sanity. He did not _kiss._ Kissing was for romance and love. He did neither of those. He _took._ When he wanted something he took it, no questions asked. He did not woo or romance women, and seduced them only if he thought they'd make a particularly tasty snack. But kissing was a deal-breaker. He never allowed himself that luxury.

Except with _her._ Elena. He kissed her even now, as he thought about the implications of kissing her – but nothing would deter him from moving his lips over hers and tangling her tongue with his with all the skill he'd acquired over the centuries. Wanting to bring her pleasure. For what reason, he did not know. He wasn't sure he wanted to.

She moaned into his mouth and brought her hands up to clutch at his hair, her thumbs swiping his temples. The action was strangely soothing.

He was the first to pull away, suddenly uncomfortable with his close proximity to the young doppelganger. He frowned, hiding it by bringing his face down to nuzzle her breast. Unable to resist the tempting buds that had taunted him all evening, he licked a nipple languidly before trailing his tongue up to trace the rivulet of blood that flowed profusely from the wounds in her throat. He lapped up all that remained of her bright red life force from her neck, swiping his tongue several times over the puncture marks he'd made until they started to clot.

He felt her body relax, still trembling, in his arms; when her eyes slipped shut he realized that her heartbeat had slowed dramatically, pumping blood through her veins at a rate that would barely keep her alive. Part of him wanted to finish feeding and just leave her body there for someone to find…the other part, the now dominant side that was scaring the shit out of him, wanted to heal her.

Grumbling, caving to his better side, he bit into his wrist and pressed it to her lips. After a moment of being unresponsive she started sucking in earnest, bringing her hands up to grip his arm and pull his wrist closer to her face. Her eyes were shut in concentration and pleasure as the hot red liquid pooled in her mouth and ran down her throat.

The moan she let out shot straight to his groin – and to his cold, dead heart. Who was this girl, who could make him _feel_ for the first time in centuries?

He finally pulled his wrist away, reluctant to do so but knowing that if she had too much of his blood she would have a massive energy spike. Her eyes remained closed and her lips were stained with his blood. The sight was utterly beautiful to his eyes.

He lifted a hand to trace her cheekbone with the calloused tips of his fingers. "You would make a _magnificent_ vampire," he whispered, staring in awe of her bloodied lips and chin.

The comment made her jolt, her body tensing, and her eyes snapped open. Finally – her dark orbs shone with terror.

"Ah, so you don't _want _to be a vampire," he said slyly, chuckling.

Elena trembled, horrified at his words. Despite the passionate kisses and the uncharacteristic tenderness he had shown moments ago, his face was twisted back to it's usual smirk. Mischief gleamed in his nearly black eyes.

She swallowed, trying to be brave. "No," she confirmed. "At least, not yet."

He leaned forward to nuzzle her neck. "Well when that time comes," he whispered, his voice low and husky, sending tingles down her spine, "find me. I'll take good care of you." He licked the spot behind her ear.

Before she could respond he gingerly pulled her up and off his softened cock and stood up, her legs still wrapped around his waist. When he set her down on her feet her knees wobbled and he gripped her shoulders to steady her.

Elena took a moment to peruse his body with her eyes, taking in the broad shoulders and perfect abs. His penis, though now flaccid, was still impressive. A muscle quivered in his chest, and she reached out to trace her hands across it.

He growled. "If you want to see your friends any time soon, I suggest you stop touching me," he said. "Otherwise I will keep you here until morning and take you on every surface in this room." His voice was pure acid, but she could hear the underlying desire in his tone. She saw his cock twitch before settling back down. She swore the man had no refractory period. She wondered if that was what it was like all the time as a vampire – constantly horny.

"You wouldn't," she replied, letting her palm settle against his sculpted pectorals. "Then people would start looking in earnest and you'd have to face the wrath of your family and my friends."

"Don't tempt me," he said dryly. He grabbed her hand and pulled it from his chest, and surprised them both when he didn't let it go. "I don't think I've made myself quite clear to you: I don't _care._ About anything. I don't care what other people want, I don't care what they think of me, I don't care if I piss people off. I don't even mind dying for something, as long as it's worth it." He leered at her. "And this was definitely worth it."

She was silent, but he saw a small smile play at the corners of her lips before it disappeared, her eyes going back to their typical solemn brown.

Deeply satisfied with how his evening had turned out, he stretched, popping some of the bones in his back, before moving to gather his clothes and redress.

When he was finished he took a moment to study her. She still stood in the same spot, staring at a place on the floor but not really seeing it. He could practically hear the hamster on its wheel in her head, struggling to keep up with tonight's events. Her body was tense but still lovely, her olive brown skin complimented by the low light of the only lamp in the corner of the room. She was frowning.

The sudden urge to make her smile again caught him off guard. Clenching his jaw in irritation, he stepped over to her and caught her chin with his hand, lifting it so that her eyes were forced to meet his.

There was an intensity in his eyes that she had never seen before; one of passion, instead of the usual glittering cruelty, that made her expression soften as she stared at him. He was truly dazzling, she thought, from the strong slope of his shoulders, to the cleft of his chin, to the flash of his sparkling eyes, like black diamonds reflecting back at her from the depth of his eye sockets.

"What are you thinking about?" he inquired. While normally he would take advantage of her nakedness to ogle her lithe body, he found himself unable to look away from her eyes. Besides, he had committed every detail of her body to memory by now: the length of her neck, graceful as a swan's; the slim set of her shoulders; the pertness of her breasts, her nipples pebbled in the cold air; her smooth stomach; her narrow waist and the subtle curve of her spine; her wide hips and round bottom; the tautness of her thighs; the arch of her small feet; her delicate tapered fingers; and the softness of her long hair, a rich brown waterfall that, her bobby pins having long since fallen out, cascaded over both shoulders in gentle waves.

There was a small brown birthmark on the inside of her right thumb; a spot that he very well knew that Katerina and Tatia had lacked. Her eyes, which he often found himself unable to look away from, were open and expressive, windows to a pure soul the likes of which he had never seen. They revealed a steady kindness that neither of her look-alikes had even come close to showing, and she fixed this gentle stare on him.

He would never have guessed that she could be such a wanton little _minx._

The thoughtful look she gave him, full of compassion whether she knew it or not, made him want to squirm and look away. He suddenly felt exposed, like she could see his soul, black as night and hard as flint; but it was like she was reaching into the dark recesses of his mind, searching for that one speck of light and goodness buried deep within its murky depths. He was terrified that she'd find it and grasp onto it…but small voice in his head told him to let her.

She spoke, never breaking his gaze. "I was thinking about the repercussions of my actions tonight – from saving you and your siblings from ultimate demise to letting you have your way with me against the wall and on the floor." Her wicked grin was fleeting, coming and going in an instant. "And I let you, the sadistic blood-thirsty one, drink from me – I _wanted_ you to drink from me." She looked disturbed at the revelation, her forehead wrinkling. "That _freaks_ me out."

He snorted at her choice of words, and, cursing himself afterwards for the tenderness he was showing, smoothed the furrow that had formed between her brows. The movement had the intended effect, her face relaxing instantly.

"Maybe you shouldn't over think it so much," he said matter-of-factly.

She reigned in a scoff; like it was easy to shut one's brain down and let it go. She had just had a tryst – and that was a polite way to put it – with a reckless, unpredictable, dangerous, _homicidal_ vampire…and _liked_ it. She should have felt remorse and self-loathing; but instead of feeling disgusted with her self, she felt free.

"I can't help but feel like I should be incredibly guilty," she continued quietly, "but all I can think about is how much I _needed_ that." She looked deep into his eyes, and he marveled at the emotion there. Why was she trusting him with this part of her? Why did he feel like it made her stronger instead of making her weak? _Why was she the exception to all of his rules?_

"I feel like I've been let out of my cage; a cage I made for myself without even realizing it. I feel like this…blurry film has been lifted from my mind."

Kol wondered how someone so young, so naïve, could have such wisdom. She was in possession of a sort of unbridled optimism; in her youthfulness she had retained a foolishly forgiving nature, one that had befuddled him from the get-go. Her compassion refused to be put down, despite all the trials she faced. Would continue to face.

"Glad I could help," he said, his voice an arrogant drawl. She wanted to slap the smug look off his face, but couldn't help the small smile that curled on her traitorous mouth. A mouth that was responsible for unspeakable acts.

"Yes, thank you _so much_ for turning me into a sex maniac. It's official:" she said with a comical grimace, waving her arms, "– I, Elena Gilbert, am now the world's biggest slut."

He let out a bark of laughter at her words. The genuine smile he sent her way felt foreign on his face – not a smirk or an evil grin, but one that reached his eyes.

It pleased her, and she beamed subtly at him in return. She said nothing, not wanting to scare him away, but she was secretly proud of herself. She had made him smile – a _real_ smile, directed at her.

"Yes, but the world's loveliest slut," he countered teasingly.

His dead heart jumped when her skin flushed with color. She managed to blush so gracefully that it was extremely endearing on her.

She truly was lovely; stunning, even. Her spirit was purely refreshing and, dare he say, beautiful. She was witty and had a sharp tongue that impressed him; she was smart, and possessed an intelligence that he was willing to bet was overlooked by those that surrounded her. In spite of this, she was fiercely loyal – why she was so fond of her selfish friends and those idiot Salvatores, he would never understand. She was radiant and warm, as if she had captured the brilliance of a spring sunrise and swallowed it; she possessed a crisp freshness that reminded him of the morning dew that clung to new shoots of grass. She was a daffodil, pushing up through recently thawed ground to bloom in shades of white and yellow, its beauty appreciated so much more for its brief and fleeting appearance. Her magnificence, however, was lasting and never seemed to fade. She should have been so jaded by now, with the death and destruction and pain she'd faced in recent years. Instead her sanguinity remained uncompromised. She had hope for the future and faith in people – and it never seemed to waver, despite the times she had been let down.

She was exquisite.

He felt almost humbled in the presence of this splendid creature…almost. Considering his rising feelings, dangerously close to his heart, he decided that the time to leave had come. He straightened his bowtie, steeling himself for the reactions of the other vampires in the ballroom that would undoubtedly be able to smell her on him. He would try to avoid them as best he could, but…the animal in him wanted to strut into their midst, letting the scent of their recent sex permeate the air around him. He wanted to announce it to the world. He wanted to see Damon's face as he realized that _he,_ Kol Mikaelson, had managed to succeed where the eldest Salvatore had not. He wanted to watch the light leave Stefan's eyes as he came to understand that his girl had been defiled in the most base and animalistic way possible – by a member of the family that he most despised. She had been snatched away from him in a mere half-hour.

She was stepping into her dress and sliding it up her legs – he smirked as she didn't bother to try and salvage her lacy thong – and he almost took her again right there against the wall when he watched her wriggle into her gown, pulling it up to cover her delectable breasts.

Elena blushed again when she came to the conclusion that her zipper was dysfunctional – he'd broken it when he'd ripped off her dress. In fact, if one were to look closely, they would notice that three of his shirt buttons were missing.

Oops.

He walked over to the antique secretary in the corner of the room and opened one of the ornate drawers. Finding a handful of safety pins (nifty contraptions that had been invented just before he was daggered), he strode over to her to help her.

"Here," he said impatiently as she tried in vain to get the zipper to work. "No matter how much you tug on that zipper, no amount of abuse is going to get it to budge. Now hold it up so I can fasten it."

She did as he'd ordered, holding the gown to her breasts, and he pulled the back closed to fasten it securely with safety pins. He couldn't resist running the backs of his fingers down her back, causing goosebumps to rise in their wake. He just had to touch her one more time.

When he was done he picked her bobby pins up off the floor and handed them to her. She attempted to style her hair back to the way it was before, but was unsuccessful. He snickered in amusement.

"What?" she asked defensively, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Oh nothing…it's just that no matter what you try to do with your hair, you will walk out of this room looking thoroughly ravished."

She scowled. He couldn't take the expression seriously – she looked too cute doing it. "I'll manage. No one will notice," she huffed.

He snorted. "Yes, I'm sure no one will notice that you look like you just went skydiving, and none of the vampires crawling all over the ballroom will notice the stench of sex wafting through the air," he replied dryly. "I can smell myself on you from here."

"Why do you even care?" she blurted out suddenly. Honestly, her brain-to-mouth filter was seriously lacking these days. So, apparently, was her sense of self-preservation. Maybe she was one of those adrenaline junkies that went thrill seeking and threw themselves into dangerous situations just to feel alive. Yes, that must be it.

His face twisted into a grimace. That was a good question; one he didn't know the answer to. "Someone has to make sure you retain some sort of dignity." He looked up, seemingly considering something. "Although if you're complaining, I could easily rip your pretty little ball gown to shreds and leave you here until you either walk out of here…naked, or someone finds you here…naked. Either way there will be some sort of nakedness on your part." He leered at her. "Although I'm sure none of us would mind."

She huffed and threw something at him and he caught it easily. By the smell he realized they were her torn panties. He held them up by his little finger, letting them dangle tantalizingly in front of his face.

He smirked at her. "Is this an invitation?" he growled huskily.

"No," she denied quickly – too quickly. "This is never happening again. But, since you're being so nice to me," she stated, his face cringing at her words, "I'll let you keep them. Consider them…a souvenir, of sorts."

The anger that he felt – mostly directed towards himself – at her mention of him being _nice _(as if he were capable of kindness – not bloody likely) couldn't hold a candle to the desire for her that raged through his veins. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and haul her up to his bedroom to have his wicked way with her all night; and then again several times in the morning. Alas, it was not to be.

Elena felt herself flush hotly when he made a show of bringing her panties up to his face, inhaling deeply while his glittering eyes held her gaze. The rumble that came from his chest was the most primal of noises, one that called to her womanhood and demanded that she let him ravish her again. And again. And then again after that.

"Mmmm, I do appreciate it darling," he said slyly; the words slithered off his tongue like silk. "I do believe this is the best gift I've ever received." He bowed mockingly. "Bravo."

"Should I give myself a pat on the back?" she said sarcastically, echoing her words from earlier. This time they were said teasingly and with amusement, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a smirk that he was proud of.

He laughed. "Well, I _do_ know that you're flexible enough to reach it," he drawled, eyeing her up and down in a way that made her shiver.

She made a noise of outrage, this time leaning forward to smack him on the arm since she lacked ammunition to throw something at him. "Stop it. You're being rude. And creepy," she added.

"That's what I do best, darling," he replied, raising an eyebrow. "I'm rude, I'm mean, I'm violent, I'm cruel, and I have an insatiable craving for sex and blood that makes me impulsive and unpredictable. I'm dangerous," he said menacingly, stepping forward to whisper in her ear, "and you _love_ it. You crave it."

When she said nothing, neither in confirmation nor denial, he chuckled, running his lips down her neck to nibble on the skin of her shoulder. "Am I right, darling?"

She grumbled in response and crossed her arms. She could not bring herself to lie to him, no matter how much it hurt her pride. She found that she didn't have the energy to fake it. She found that she didn't really care.

"Someday your lack of self-preservation is going to get you killed," he said as he pulled away from her, instantly missing her closeness. His voice went back to its usual smooth lilt. "But not today."

She could hear the poison seep back into his voice, sensed the darkness return to his heart. It cast a shadow over the connection they'd formed.

But that connection was still there, tenuous but noticeable. She would let him go for now; but someday, she vowed, she would shed light on it again, exposing it in a way that did not allow such an easy escape. Someday she would make him smile again, if only to feel validated for a moment; if only to feel like she'd made a difference. There was a spark in him that only needed to be reignited – she had seen it earlier, shining out through his eyes. It only served to prove her theory: that there was always hope for people, no matter how lost they were – all they needed was a good map. Even the blackest of souls could be lit; all they needed was a proper lantern.

She would be his map.

Kol was inclined to be concerned about his feelings for Elena Gilbert, but those concerns could wait until later, when he had the quiet and peace of mind needed to process such information. Later, he promised himself, he would address the questions that he had; for that's what she had done – made him question everything he knew. Later he would ponder the light that had seeped into him while in her presence – like the sunrise he'd compared her to earlier – and wonder at the implications. But not now. His thoughts were too jumbled to make sense of. His heart was in knots.

Giving her one last look, he held out his arm. She took it.

"They're going to kill you, you know," she said softly.

"It's nothing that hasn't been done before; trust me, I've been through worse," he replied, amused at her concern for his well-being.

She frowned. "Perhaps I should be more concerned with them killing _me_," she said, gnawing at her bottom lip in anxiety.

He shrugged. "You'll certainly make quite a splash," he commented nonchalantly. "And stop worrying your lip, Miss Gilbert. Fretfulness does not become you."

Elena lifted her chin and he saw her eyes harden. A smirk that he could be proud of spread sensuously across her lips.

"Well, it's been awhile since anyone's taken me seriously. Perhaps this will get their attention." She grinned. "Plus, there hasn't been nearly enough drama in Mystic Falls lately," she said sarcastically. "Maybe it's time to shake things up."

Like she had shaken him up, he thought.

"Minx," he growled.

"You bet."

"I knew I liked you for a reason," he joked, winking at her. Opening the door, they stepped out into the light.


End file.
