Elena wasn't aware that she was being moved backwards until she felt the lip of the table against the backs of her thighs, she had been so wrapped up in Damon, in the feel of him. All the emotions that she'd felt when she'd turned up here had come flooding back - the relief of having him in her arms again, of feeling him against her, of knowing that he was real and hers and alive and here. She was still angry at him for freaking out on her again and she knew that there would have to be more discussions before she forgave him for putting her through that but, for now, this was enough.
Elena let her head tilt back as she felt Damon's mouth on her neck. It was still strange to her that a mouth that had caused pain to so many people could give her so much pleasure. But then that was Damon, wasn't it? He was a heady, addictive mix of danger and intensity, gentleness and cutting snark. That was what made her love him so much, need him so much. He was him and he was imperfect and careless and loving and kind, all at the same time. He was selfish and selfless in equal measure. He was an oxymoron and she loved him so completely that she could feel it down to her bones.
Elena lifted her legs, wrapping them tightly around Damon's waist as he lifted her onto the table. In the depths of her mind she remembered that her half-full cup of coffee was still sat just a couple of feet behind her but, at that moment, she didn't care if it ended up on the floor. She wasn't going to let go of him for even a second.
Moving one hand from its position at the back of his neck, she lifted his chin with one finger, her lips seeking out his again as she pressed her body forward against his muscular form. Once it had fulfilled its role, that same hand slid down to Damon's shoulder, feeling the muscles beneath his dark-coloured shirt before slipping beneath the fabric and around to caress the skin of his back.