Now that Damon had Elena calling him Master, she was on a roll. She had settled into it easily, and begged him for relief, rather than pouting and demanding it. He knew that she could be trained, it would just take time. The problem was that Damon was an impatient man.
Damon started by slowly lapping at the few drops that had spattered over the inside of Elena's thighs, staying far from the heat of her centre. He laid the broadness of his tongue over her skin, licking up, until it was just the pointed tip, flicking the last remnants from her. For a man who had little tolerance for waiting, he was a horrible tease.