Damon didnât know how to handle her. On one hand, he wanted to toss her against the bed and make her scream and beg. But then the other part of him wanted to kill her, for making up these games and for fucking with his head. He wouldnât know what to do with her, not anymore. His finger moved against her throat, holding her against the wall, his eyes dark as he watched her closely. âYou want proof?â He asked, a snarl on his lips. âI think Iâm the one who needs proof here,â he said, before biting into her neck. He wanted to taste her, to take what was his and not care about the consequences. He wanted to find his peace, to find the old Katherine Pierce and hide her away from the cruel, dark would that had destroyed her.
Katherine's eyes averted downwards feeling Damon's finger against her throat. She shifted in her spot making sure to teasingly brush against his frame. The vampire had to admit she loved playing games with the eldest Salvatore. Getting him riled up always was in her favor because it always led to some form of sex. Mostly angry, mostly rough, just the way she liked it. "Is that so?" she retorted back in a seductive whisper. She wanted to say more but she couldn't. Not before she felt his fangs pierce her flesh, causing the brunette to sink back into the wall, eyes shutting, and a low moan to leave her lips.
This was her Damon. The vampire version of himself. Rough, monstrous, dominating. Taking and doing what he wanted, when he wanted. It was in these moments she could see how similar they really were.
Katherine's slender fingers found there way into his dark locks, basking in the feeling of him feeding from her. Shifting once more she got as close to him as he would allow without disturbing the actual act, purring into his ear.
"Do I taste as sweet as you remember?"
