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Damon thought about Elena constantly. The way Stefan's fingers ran down her back, how his touch claimed her. How he wanted to replace Stefan's hands on Elena's skin. Wanted to take her from Stefan. Wanted her to stop looking at Stefan like some kind of saint. Wanted her to see that Stefan was just as dirty as him, just as bad under the brooding facade. Just as undeserving of her love.
Stefan wasn't who Elena thought he was. Damon knew who Stefan was, knew him to his rotten core. He'd watched the ripper being born, then forced Stefan back into himself again. And Elena had stood there in the moonlit street and looked at them like they were monsters from a gothic tale, like in that monent she didnt recognize either of them. Damon had had the distant idea to hiss at her.
Yes, Damon loved Elena. Loved her like a hurricane loves the ground it claims. Wanted Elena more than anything. Because he'd promised Stefan eternal misery, and he'd sure as hell not let him get the girl that he wanted. He wanted to tear Elena from Stefan's arms until Stefan had nothing in his life, nothing, except for Damon.