"You must call me Master, but we'll say that's good enough for today," Damon said calmly. Given the circumstances, he was surprised he'd gotten that much out of her, that was comprehensible. Gathering Elena in his arms, Damon made sure that his pants were done up, and then stood with his slave in his arms. Her head lolled against his shoulder, and with all of the blood, he was sure they must have looked like something from an old Master/slave romance novel.
"Let's get you inside," he whispered, walking quickly through the garden, the smell of roses just barely covering the scent of the blood, he could only hope that Stefan was nowhere around, when they arrived back at the house.