#resisting the urge to go to the antique bookstore and buy more used books that I definitely can't afford

[rosy-letters]

I miss them...........

[thetourguidebarbie]

S4 AU WHERE KC NEEDS TO BE STUCK IN A SAFE HOUSE TOGETHER BECAUSE OF REASONS PLEAAASE!!!

Thank you to @honestgrins for cheerleading. I will be forever grateful. I hope you like it Luiza!!! Smutty. D/s. Etc. Originally for canon-ish day of au week but I had midterms so I’m sorry this is late. There’s an incest mention in this. Nothing super substantive or related to the actual story, but here are the bookends if you want to scroll past.

Begins at: “Everything?” she asked, eyebrows raised. “I’m sure there’s some stuff you haven’t done.”

Ends at: “Forget I asked,” Caroline interrupted, squeezing her eyes shut. “Ugh. Okay, um…Never have I ever done BDSM stuff.”

————

“This is the safehouse?” Caroline demanded, dropping her suitcase on the faded persian rug in the living room of the cabin.

Yes, the cabin.

Like, as in in a forest.

It was even made of wood, probably.

“Yes, love,” Klaus said, locking the door behind them with a click. She immediately felt the prickle of magic against her skin as the barrier took hold. “Protected with the best magic murder can buy.”

Caroline wrinkled her nose as she took in the room around her. Everything seemed old, but largely in good condition. She had a feeling that Klaus hadn’t had a hand in designing it, since it didn’t even slightly resemble an old-timey cigar lounge. He sunk down on the couch, crossing his legs and setting his boots on the antique-looking coffee table, his eyes fixed on her intently as she took in her surroundings.

“So is the TV in another room, or something?” she asked, walking to peek through one of the two non-outside exits from the room into what looked like a small kitchen. She desperately hoped there was more to the space than she was seeing. The cabin had looked tiny from the outside, but maybe it was magic’d to be bigger on the inside like in Harry Potter, or something.

“No television, unfortunately.”

“What?”

“Can’t risk blowing the fuse, love. We need it to keep the icebox going. Blood spoils.”

“Is there at least somewhere to charge my phone?”

“Phones need to remain off, sweetheart. How difficult do you think it would be to compel your way into one of your privacy-violating apps and find your exact location?”

“Seriously?”

“Indeed.”

“But that means there’s nothing to do,” Caroline complained, sitting on the couch and glaring at the bookshelf, the only entertainment source she could identify as of now, in front of her. “How am I supposed to live like this?”

“I did for over 900 years,” Klaus pointed out, his patience clearly beginning to run out. “At least you’re alive, sweetheart.”

“Honestly, I think I might rather take my chances with Bonnie having to resurrect me than have to go glamping with you.”

“I’m wounded.”

“Is there at least running water?”

“That there is, courtesy of magic,” he reassured her. “We’ll have to share it of course, but I’m sure we’ll manage.”

She grimaced, already knowing that her only-child-ness and the temptation to avoid Klaus was likely not conducive to short showers.

“Okay, where’s my bedroom? Please tell me I at least get my own bed.”

“Of course. Unless you change your mind,” he teased, his cheeks dimpling at the withering glare she shot him.

“I’m good. Thanks.”

“Just through there, then,” he said, pointing to the other door.

She left without another word, the small hallway leading to two tiny cramped rooms separated by a bathroom that she could barely move her elbows in, both taken up almost entirely by double beds and an end table. She chose the one with the less ugly duvet and dropped her luggage on top of it.

Ugh. Hopefully Klaus’s witchy friend would come through soon. She had a prom to plan.

————

“How long are we going to be here?”

“Until I take care of the problem.”

“So I’m just stuck locked in a shed in the woods and can’t like, go anywhere or do anything? Or buy entertainment? Or use the internet?”

He chose to ignore her assessment of their accommodations. “Well, the icebox is rather small, so I’ll need to leave to get blood bags every now and again. If you’d like something from town, you need only ask.”

“I can’t come?”

“It wouldn’t be safe, love.”

“Are you saying I wouldn’t be safe with you?” Caroline asked, her barb clearly hitting the mark when his face darkened.

“If I thought all I needed to do to ensure your safety was to keep you by my side, we wouldn’t be here.“

"I thought you were the most powerful being on earth,” she pointed out, not bothering to keep her tone kind.

He didn’t meet her eyes, and she saw the barest movement in his body as he tensed, the twitch of his jaw putting her on edge. “I’m beginning to think that might not be the case.”

It was an admission that she hadn’t expected. Klaus had always seemed to have an endless well of egotism to draw from, had never seemed at all insecure in his power, but everything from the tone of his voice to the way that his eyes kept darting towards the door told her that Klaus was more scared than she’d realized. That put her even further on edge.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not important, love.”

“Um, since you basically kidnapped me and locked me in a shed I’d say that I have a right to know.”

From the look he shot her she had a very good feeling that he was resisting the urge to say that it didn’t matter whether she thought she had the right to know anything, but he wisely refrained from making that particular point. “I’ll tell you when I have more information,” he said finally, a concession that she was pretty sure he hadn’t initially intended to make.

“You can’t just give me the information you have?”

“Silas is a warlock. A very old one,” Klaus said slowly. “Old enough that I was convinced he was a legend.”

“You mean there’s something you didn’t know?” she asked in mock incredulity. “I thought you were friends with all the historians.”

“I thought you said that I didn’t have friends,” he shot back, his eyebrow raised.

“Well, you haven’t been able to prove you have one.”

He didn’t have an answer to that, likely because he knew that mansplaining logical fallacies to her would just get him made fun of, and he retreated back to the subject at hand. “He’s immortal. Truly immortal. After some research I’ve concluded that my mother used a version of the immortality spell he used to create the vampirism ritual.”

“So he’s a vampire?”

“Not exactly,” Klaus said slowly. “Quite honestly I’m not sure to what extent his powers resemble vampirism or vice versa, but I do know that there are elements that are almost certainly shared. Feeding off blood, for example. Likely some sort of power to induce hallucination, similar to the way that we can enter dreams or the thoughts of those who aren’t expecting it.”

“You didn’t even bother to learn about the legend? Aren’t all legends based on truth?”

His lips twitched. “In the interest of honesty, love, I must admit that because I’d never heard of it until I was a few centuries old, I originally assumed that the legend of Silas was based off of me.”

“That’s so arrogant it’s almost funny.”

“It was to my detriment, obviously,” he admitted. “In any case, I’m unsure as to the full extent of his abilities, and that means that he’s dangerous. Too dangerous to risk exposure to him.”

“Exposing me? I didn’t do anything. What’s he going to do, kidnap me to ask me where the cure I hadn’t heard of until two days ago is?”

“No, not you. Me.”

“Then what do I have to do with anything?” she asked impatiently, doing her best to smush down the part of her that was shouting that it knew the answer.

“You know very well what you have to do with this, Caroline,” Klaus said, his tone deceptively light. “If you were put in danger it could easily draw me out.”

She let the confession hang uncomfortably in the air, not quite knowing what to say, how to acknowledge the truth that she hadn’t wanted to accept that he’d set out so plainly. 

“Whatever,” she said finally. “But we need to figure it out fast. I can’t let Patrice takeover prom committee. She thinks that green and brown would be a good color scheme. She calls it ‘forest chic’ but it is not.”

Klaus made a face at that, which was honestly just the kind of vindication she needed. He had like eighty bajillion years of party planning experience, right? He knew a terrible aesthetic choice when he heard one.

“I’ll do my best, love. Anything else or am I free to go?”

“No further questions,” she said dryly.

————

“I’m pretty sure I’ve read every book by now.” Caroline complained.

They’d been in the cabin for about a month, and Klaus had both somehow grown on her and was also deeply irritating, mostly because he was growing on her. He wasn’t exactly open with her, but he wasn’t as irritating as usual. Their cohabitation was actually going peacefully, other than his apparent short supply of shirts, something she had only brought up once and promptly swore to herself to never do it again after Klaus had somehow gotten her to admit it was distracting. She had been waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to infuriate her so much that she wanted to stalk off and risk being kidnapped by witches, but he’d been on his best behavior.

Unfortunately for her, it turned out that Klaus’s best behavior was pretty freaking attractive.

Even more unfortunately, her new-found (fine, newly acknowledged; she could be real with herself inside her own head) attraction for him wasn’t distracting enough to mitigate the fact that she was bored out of her mind.

“I’ll pick up more in town tomorrow,” Klaus promised.

“How will you know what I like, though?”

“Make a list, I suppose.”

“How am I supposed to make a list of things I don’t know exist? Bookstores are for browsing, Klaus.”

“I’ll do my best to make selections to your preferences.”

“Do you even know what I like?” she asked, pausing for dramatic effect before continuing. “Oh wait, I guess you must since you’re a legit stalker who kidnapped me from my home to take me to a remote cabin and wait to be murdered.”

“You make me sound so diabolical.”

“Ugh. You’re impossible.”

“What do you want, Caroline?” he asked, sounding more tired than she’d heard him in awhile. “Believe me when I say that I do want to make this as painless as possible for you. There is no benefit to me to make you hate me more when you know quite well I’d like the opposite.”

“I don’t hate you,” Caroline said, smiling slightly at the look of surprise on Klaus’s face. “What? Didn’t you know that?”

“I didn’t expect you to admit it,” he said, giving her a dimpled grin that screamed smirky jerk. 

It annoyed her enough to make her clarify. “Look, it doesn’t mean much. I’m not exactly a fan of your strategies for keeping me safe, or how you’ve treated my friends, or like…your personality in general.”

“I thought I’d grown on you.”

“I mean, slowly. You’re not exactly easy to get to know.”

He seemed to consider her point for a moment before nodding. “I’ll see what I can find for you, all right?”

————

Klaus had underestimated the amount of books she could read in one day, but he’d luckily also brought home ten bottles of hard liquor, pointing out to her when she saw her face that he’d need to drink at least two full bottles within an hour to actually get past tipsy, and if she wanted to get to know him, what better way than a casual drink?

This quickly turned into her introducing him to the most classic get-to-know-you drinking game she knew.

“Never have I ever eaten a baby,” Caroline joked, slurring slightly.

Klaus snorted, making no move to take the shot. “To my knowledge, only Kol has ever gotten close.”

“Gross. Your turn.”

Klaus sighed. He’d clearly been having difficulty coming up with things he’d never done that it was possible she had. She was already drunk off his never having Instagram and his complete lack of pop culture knowledge (‘never have I ever been able to name all of the Kordashan siblings’ ‘they’re called Kardashians’). They’d agreed to ban any historical figures (‘never have I ever had a one-night stand with a princess’) and school-related questions (‘never have I ever failed a math test’), but anything else was fair game.

“Never have I ever…” he began slowly, swirling the shot glass in his hand. “���had sex with a werewolf.“

"Sex life is off the table,” Caroline declared, pausing after she processed what he’d said. “What, you haven’t?”

“Werewolves and vampires aren’t exactly friendly, and there aren’t all that many wolves in the first place. I kept track of the packs, of course, but I wasn’t about to risk getting bitten before I broke the hybrid curse. It wouldn’t kill me, of course, but I would have had to live with it until it healed. Even as an Original it’s not exactly a speedy process. Kol managed to get himself bitten once and took over six months.”

“That makes sense.”

“Drink though, love.”

“We just said sex life was off the table!” Caroline argued, and Klaus raised an eyebrow. 

“We didn’t say anything. You declared it, and you declared it after I’d already used my turn. Drink.”

“Ugh fine,” she said before knocking a shot back.

“If I may offer some strategic advice however, love–”

“Ugh of course you want to offer strategic advice.”

“It may be best for you to keep the category open.”

Caroline wrinkled her nose. “Are you saying I want to hear about your sexcapades?”

“I’m saying that it’s likely I’ve done almost anything you can think of, and that it’s likely that you haven’t.”

“Are you calling me a prude?” Caroline asked, not sure why she was bristling but still feeling a bit slighted.

“Not at all. You’re simply young,” Klaus said mildly. “You haven’t had the time I had, not that the quarterback or the Lockwood boy seemed all that creative.”

Caroline almost wanted to debate that point–she and Tyler had done one or two things that involved very extensive internet research using an incognito window and ordering sex stuff on amazon using a dummy account to the Lockwood mansion while his mom was in New York to see the new revival of Mamma Mia–but those memories were hers and she didn’t want Klaus to poison them.

Or like, tempt her to do them again, but with him.

And probably better.

“Your advice is duly noted,” she said, trying to keep from slurring her words. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

“All too happy to assist, love.”

“Yeah, I bet you are,” she muttered, reaching for the tequila bottle to fill her shot glass again. “Never have I ever…been to France.”

“I’ll take you,” he teased, bringing her back to that moment at the ball when he’d tried to tempt her. “When this is all over. I’ll take you anywhere.”

“We’ve been over this. You’re not taking me on any vacations after this other than back to my house.”

“I’d be honored to take you back to your place, love.”

“Gross!” she whined, trying to cover up the way that the suggestion made her mind wander. “Stop!”

“As the lady wishes. Now, never have I ever played monopoly.”

Caroline knocked the shot back. “Not only have I played monopoly, but I specialize in winning monopoly.”

“Of course you do,” he drawled. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a keen strategist, love.”

“And my dad and I had a rule that if I could steal from the bank without him noticing then I got to keep the money.”

“That’s just good business, sweetheart.”

“I was also ten and got tantrumy when I didn’t win, but sure.”

“Somehow I’m not at all surprised by that.”

She glared at him. “Never have I ever…” she trailed off, out of ideas. Klaus raised a challenging eyebrow. She swallowed, bracing herself for what would probably give her too many uncomfortably enticing thoughts later that night. “Never have I ever eaten someone out.”

Klaus’s lips curled and he easily threw back the shot, placing the glass down. “Always time to try.”

“I’m surprised you’re advocating having sex with someone else since you’re such a jealous weirdo even when we’re not dating.”

“There’s magic for everything.”

She wasn’t sure if he was joking. She kind of didn’t want him to be. Was that weird? 

“Your turn,” she said quickly.

“Never have I ever eaten a frozen meal.”

“I have never been less surprised by anything. Those aren’t super classy. Stouffer’s mac n cheese is great when you’re hungover though. Um…Never have I ever used restraints during sex.”

He drank. She wished she’d been more specific. Did he tie someone up or let someone else do the tying? Why was her brain imagining both of those scenarios? Why did she like the idea of Klaus tying her up? 

“Never have I ever had a hangover,” he offered, and Caroline groaned, taking another shot.

“They’re the worst. Umm…Never have I ever had a threesome.”

He drank. 

“Never have I ever ridden a roller coaster.”

“Not even once?” Caroline asked after she’d downed the shot.

“No. I have more enjoyable things I could be doing.”

“Like the laundry list of sexcapades you’re trying to get me to guess?”

“That’s one category, yes. I’ve done almost everything, love. It’s a good strategy.”

“Everything?” she asked, eyebrows raised. “I’m sure there’s some stuff you haven’t done.”

“Almost everything you could imagine.”

“Yeah, okay. Never have I ever had sex with my sibling,” Caroline teased, her jaw dropping when Klaus took the shot without missing a beat. “Seriously?”

“We got bored.”

“Who got bored? Which one did you have sex with?”

“You used your turn, love. Never have I ever texted while driving.”

Caroline had downed the shot before he finished speaking, anxious to have her questions answered. “Never have I ever fucked my sister.”

Klaus rolled his eyes, taking the shot.

“Ew!" 

"Rather closed-minded of you, love.”

“She’s your sister. She’s also Rebekah, and therefore the least pleasant person in existence. Both things that should put her off limits.”

“I’ve fucked many unpleasant people. My sister doesn’t rank even close to the top of my list. We’re also a thousand years old with vampiric sex drives,” he said calmly, apparently not at all embarrassed. She wished she could give that few fucks about what taboos people caught her out committing. And also that she could stop imagining it. Imagining her also in that situation. With both of them. 

He was right, Rebekah was not obnoxious enough to not be hot, unfortunately.

“Never have I ever had a job.”

“Seriously? Never? Not even in viking times or whatever?”

“I had, I suppose you’d call them chores, but I didn’t have a job in the sense that they exist now.”

“What did you call them?”

“Sendifer”

“Bless you? Was that a sneeze?”

His lips twitched. “My native language.”

“Native language?”

“You can’t possibly have thought we spoke English?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I guess I never thought about it. How many languages do you speak?”

“Counting languages not in use today?” he asked, clearly already doing a mental calculation.

“Sure.”

“I can manage fairly well in at least fifty or so. I’m likely only fluent in ten or eleven, including my native tongue.”

“That’s a lot.”

He smiled slightly. “We had to learn to adapt.”

“Did you and Rebekah dirty talk each other with your native tongue?” Caroline drawled, the lack of filter from alcohol making her bolder.

Klaus chuckled. “If I said I did other things with–”

“Forget I asked,” Caroline interrupted, squeezing her eyes shut. “Ugh. Okay, um…Never have I ever done BDSM stuff.”

“That’s quite a broad category, love.”

“So that means you’ll drink, right?”

“Not interested as to what aspects?”

Caroline swallowed, her curiosity dueling with her complete certainty that if he told her anything, her traitor brain wouldn’t be able to forget, or to stop itself from imagining what it could be like for him to do those things to her. It only took her a brief moment to make up her mind, the alcohol making her bold, and she shrugged. “Fine. Never have I ever spanked someone during sex.”

He held her gaze as he poured his drink, his irises flashing gold for just a moment before he sipped it much too slowly, his tongue darting over his lips when he’d finished it. Her breath caught at the intensity of it, how he seemed to be cataloguing every little hint of her reaction. She was certain, in that moment, that he was imagining what it would be like to do it to her. It excited her more than it should have, and she tried to rub her thighs together as subtly as possible to soothe the ache. “Your turn,” she breathed, a bit embarrassed by how completely obvious she was being.

She barely registered whatever Klaus said, something about Netflix, and she drank despite not knowing what she was admitting, too distracted by the fantasies already spinning themselves much too easily.

“Never have I ever made someone call me Master during sex.”

He drank.

She was practically bursting with questions now, and she knew he could tell, that he was enjoying that she wanted to know more of what he’d done. An irrational tug of jealousy made itself known in her gut, something about Klaus having done these things with other people unsettling her. It was unfair, since he had to have done it to be able to talk about it, but her fingers twitched with the urge to touch, to claim, to run her tongue along his skin and hear the low rumble in his throat that she’d spent an embarrassing amount of time imagining he’d make if she ever gave in to what they both wanted.

“Ugh, I should stop drinking,” Caroline said, pushing the bottle away with the five others they’d gone through. “This is getting way too into TMI territory.”

“You do know that I’d answer these even if I weren’t drinking, don’t you love?”

“I don’t know if I could ask them sober,” she admitted before she could stop herself. 

He chuckled, making her bristle. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not, love. But out of curiosity, why wouldn’t you?”

“Because then I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it. You. What you…what we…” she trailed off, shaking her head determinedly to make herself stop talking. “This is why I shouldn’t drink with you. I’ve already said more than I wanted to.”

“Would it be so bad?” he asked. “To give in? To let yourself have a moment of freedom?”

“What, like a what happens in the cabin stays in the cabin type deal?” she asked, unsure if she should even be considering this.

“If you like,” he said, giving her a nod. “I’ve gotten rather good at keeping secrets over the years, you know. I’d never betray your confidence.”

“How do I know?”

“I give you my word.”

“Full offense, but at this point that doesn’t mean much,” Caroline said, regretting the words at the way his expression tightened. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“You did,” he said quietly, the words slow. “And I must admit I haven’t exactly done much to inspire confidence.”

“How hard was that to admit?”

His lips twitched. “To be honest with you, love? Much easier than it typically comes to me.”

He sounded so genuine. It was annoying. She took a deep breath. “You’d promise not to tell?”

He paused for a moment, and she thought he was reconsidering for a moment before he spoke. “You should sleep, sweetheart. I want you to be sure, for your peace of mind. And for mine.”

“Sure that I want to ask questions?”

“Sure that any decisions you make will be entirely your own.”

She took a sharp breath, knowing what decision he was implying she could make. Knowing she probably would if he kept looking at her like that. “Yeah. Good. I mean, sounds good.”

“See you in the morning, love,” he said, hesitating for a moment before pressing a light kiss to her cheek and gathering up the bottles to throw them out, turning away.

“I…good night.”

————

She hadn’t gotten much sleep. Though vampires technically didn’t need any, blood was a valuable commodity, and wasting it just so that they didn’t have to rest seemed unwise. She’d spent the entire night tossing and turning, letting her hands wander beneath the waistband of her shorts and then retreating just as quickly, worried that Klaus would hear, worried that she wanted Klaus to hear.

She’d given in around two in the morning after listening intently for Klaus’s breathing to slow, kicking off her shorts and letting her fingers circle her clit. She let herself get lost in visions of Klaus bending over her, demanding she beg as he fucked her much too slowly, staining her skin with fast-fading red marks when she moaned his name instead of his title. She teased herself, imagining her fingers curled against her walls were his, that he had bid her to hold still and scolding her when she shook against the touch, biting back her moans. Her breathing was ragged when she finally allowed herself release after dragging it out for as long as she dared in case Klaus woke, her imagined order of “come for me, sweetheart” tipping her over the edge.

She made sure to shower before she made her way to the kitchen in the morning, nervous that he’d catch the scent of her arousal, but from the knowing look he shot her, the curve of his lips, she had a feeling he knew anyway. She didn’t mind as much as she thought she would, which was honestly the scariest and yet most exhilarating part. 

“From all the free dirty kindle books I think I’m a sub, just so you know.” She’d waited until he’d taken a sip of blood-laced coffee, mostly to indulge her own enjoyment of watching the look on his face as the (second?) most powerful creature on earth attempted to hold back his cough when the liquid went down the wrong pipe. It was deeply satisfying. 

“Good morning to you too, sweetheart.”

“Good morning! But does that work, or do you prefer subbing? I won’t judge. Plus toxic masculinity is gross and people like what they like.”

“I prefer the dominant role, yes,” he said, looking more amused than anything else now that he’d recovered from his coughing fit. “No offense taken. I’ve tried it.”

“Not a fan?”

He did a surprisingly un-Klaus like grimace, and she wondered if he picked it up from her. “Not at all, no.”

“Makes sense, I guess.”

He didn’t question why. “Does that mean you’ve made a decision?”

“I mean, I have more questions first, if that’s okay.”

“Always.”

She peppered him with questions. What kinds of things did he like to do? What were his usual rules for his subs? What punishments did he like to use when they broke them? Did he do that thing in all the books where he makes his subs sit a certain way? What title did he like? Why do people call it playing? Did he make it a requirement to be playing 24/7? 

On and on.

He was patient, answering her questions thoroughly and seemingly honestly. A lot of them were “it depends” followed by examples, and she resisted the urge to ask him more specific things about what he liked to stop him from saying all the words like that. It was just unfair, honestly. She found herself tempted as he painted a picture of what it could be like, his stories more like offers, the way he raked his eyes up and down her body when she rubbed her thighs together and bit her lip a sure indication that he was aware that she was seriously considering it, that he was imagining all the things he’d do to her if she agreed.

“I think I want to,” she admitted finally, her fingers curling around the handle of her mug, the coffee having long gone cold. “Try, I mean.”

“Do you know what sorts of things you’d like to try? Did the, ah…dirty kindle books give you any ideas?”

“I think I probably don’t know a lot of the options,” she admitted. “Being tied up seems fine? I don’t know.”

“What do you think about when you touch yourself?” he asked, as though admitting her fantasies was as easy as breathing. She flushed at his knowing glance, at the way his low tone made her breath catch.

“Getting told what to do, I guess? Being rough with me.”

A predatory smile spread across his face that made her all too aware of how her spine was pressed against the counter, giving her no room to move. It was a surge of adrenaline, the feeling of being hunted even if she’d expected it, wanted it. She let him move closer, let him take the mug out of her hands and set it on the counter before his palms settled on her hips. He glanced at her for a moment, reading her expression, checking for confirmation, and she nodded. He lifted her easily onto the counter, gently pressing her thighs apart, smirking when he saw the damp spot on the cotton of her shorts. “Tell me more, sweetheart.”

She took a deep breath, almost shaking with anticipation as he reached to fiddle with the drawstrings of her shorts, pulling the knots at the ends between his fingers, his knuckles brushing against her bare thigh just below the scalloped hem. She desperately wanted him closer, for his fingers to brush against her already wet center, but she tried to concentrate on what he asked her. They weren’t in play yet, hadn’t even really talked about any real ground rules, but she already didn’t want to disappoint him, wanted the rush of pleasing him. 

“You talk to me,” she offered, feeling her face heat when he smirked, his eyebrows raising.

“I talk to you?”

“You knew I was thinking about you sometimes” she said, trying to sound matter of fact even though she was kind of mortified. “You’re not an idiot.”

“Only sometimes?”

She swallowed. “A lot,” she said, her voice soft. “Probably too much.”

“No such thing,” he murmured, moving forward to gently press his lips against hers, moving his hand to find her clit through the fabric and press down lightly. She moaned into his mouth, her hands moving to rest on his shoulders. She’d imagined what it would be like to kiss Klaus probably hundreds of times, but this was…better. He took his time coaxing her lips to part for him, his tongue sweeping against the seam of them and then sucking her bottom lip lightly, giving a satisfied hum when her hips jerked against his fingers, swallowing her gasp. She felt the lightest brush of fang, not enough to break skin but enough to send a jolt through her that she’d never felt with anyone else. 

Enough to make her want him more. 

“Do you know how long I’ve dreamt of this, Caroline?” he whispered against her lips, the light brushes against her mouth making her shiver. “I stroke my cock imagining the sounds I’ll coax from your pretty lips, how I’ll make you shake for me. I’ve spent far too much time considering what a pretty picture you’d be spread for me on my sheets, your hair tangled in my fingers, just begging to be tugged. I want to tempt you into giving into your filthiest desires, to give yourself to me so that I can grant your every wish. I’ll give it all to you, Caroline. Anything you ask.”

She tipped her head back as he began to press light kisses down her jawline. “Tell me now, love. What do you think about? What do you want?" 

"I…”

“What did you think about last night?” he asked, and she could hear the smugness in his voice. It would have made her want to smack him if his fingers between her legs didn’t feel so fucking good. “I heard your breathing, the rustle of the sheets. What’s on your mind, love?”

“I imagined you behind me,” she began, her voice shaky, almost embarrassed to say the words out loud. “You were pulling my hair and making me beg for you. Teasing me.”

“Begging me for my cock?”

“Yes.”

“Where, Caroline? What was I doing? Was I filling your pussy? Stretching you? Making you ask for me to fuck you faster? Harder?” his voice was a low growl, heavy with lust. She felt his hand leave its place at her center and moaned at the loss of friction, squirming to try and make him go back. He chuckled, sliding his palm beneath her ass and pinching the flesh of it lightly, making her gasp. “Or perhaps I was taking your pretty arse with my cock. Making you beg for me to make you truly submit. Did you ask for me to pull your hair and show you who owns you, Caroline? Do you like being made to admit that you’re mine?”

She knew she was blushing brightly, her breathing labored at the picture he was painting in her mind. She hadn’t considered the possibility somehow, that being claimed like that might turn her on, but she was growing more wet from it, somehow found herself needing it. 

“The first one,” she admitted. “And sometimes I’d call you by your name instead of by your title just to make you spank me.”

“What was I in this fantasy, Caroline?”

“What do you mean?”

“What did you call me?”

She inhaled sharply as he squeezed her ass, the bite of his nails making her hips jerk. “Master,” she whispered, the word foreign on her tongue and yet somehow comfortable. Natural. She heard the rumble low in his throat that she’d somehow always known he’d make, the pleased hum of a satisfied predator that had won.

“And you like to be spanked?”

She found herself wanting to push him, to see how far he’d go, whether he’d be as possessive as she’d imagined, as she’d secretly wanted.

“Tyler did spank me once or twice and I liked that. He liked me on my hands and knees before the moon.”

Klaus’s returning snarl made her smile. “Jealous?” she asked, trying not to sound too smug.

The answering rip of fabric exposing her skin making her squeak in surprise. She gasped as Klaus found her wet core, the tips of his fingers dipping into it to make her squirm. “Look at me, Caroline.”

She obeyed, her lips slightly parted, needing him to touch her but unsure how to put it into words without sounding desperate. 

“Beg,” he whispered, the command also a clear warning. Klaus apparently didn’t care if she was desperate, probably wanted her to be, wanted her to crave him the way he’d clearly wanted her. He wanted to know that she wouldn’t be thinking of anyone else.

“Please.”

“You can do better,” he murmured, the implied order making her shiver. Her craving for his approval and his touch warred with the instinct to not give an inch, the worry that she’d embarrass herself. “And address me correctly.”

“Please touch me, Master.”

“More,” he demanded, though he rewarded her with a brush of his thumb against her clit, coaxing out a moan. “Tell me what you want. Perhaps I’ll be kind enough to indulge you.”

“Master, I…please make me come. Please. I need you to touch me.”

“How do you want me to touch you, Caroline? Do you want to my fingers or my cock?”

She swallowed, knowing which she’d prefer, but the word seemed so filthy to say out loud. She bit her lip. “Your fingers, Master.”

“I don’t like it when you lie to me, love.”

She flushed. “Sorry, Master.”

“Say it, sweetheart.”

She rolled her hips, hoping for him to at least let her have another touch, but he withdrew, an eyebrow raised. “I want your cock, Master,” she said finally. “Please.”

“Good,” he praised, pressing a soft kiss to her neck. “And where do you want it?”

“Inside of me.”

She knew she’d been too vague the moment she’d said it and Klaus pulled away, his lips twisted in a wicked smirk. Her reluctance to use words that made her blush was clearly something she’d have to get over.

“Get on your knees, then,” he said, his hands already going for his belt. 

She let her knees hit the tile floor, arching her back to stretch before settling on her elbows, her legs spread. She heard Klaus chuckle behind her, and she looked over her shoulder in confusion, about to ask what was so funny, and her lips parted when she saw him already nude, stroking his cock in his hand, his thumb brushing over the tip of it. She felt her core ache, her walls fluttering in anticipation, needing that feeling of fullness, but he grabbed the nearby kitchen chair and settled into it. “On your knees here,” he corrected, pointing at the tile floor in front of him. “I want to watch you suck my cock. That fulfills your request, doesn’t it? For you to take me in your mouth?”

Technically, she supposed it did. She knew better than to argue anyway. “Yes, Master.”

“Good. Come here. Crawl.”

She was pretty sure that her skin tone had been increasingly approaching tomato-level red, but she was growing too turned on to care, feeling the embarrassment fade as she let herself give in. She crawled the few feet towards him, settling between his legs and keeping her gaze on his as she leant forward. His hand buried in her hair, keeping her in place. “What do you say when I’m kind enough to give you what you so sweetly begged for, love?”

“Thank you, Master.”

“For?”

“Thank you for letting me suck your cock, Master,” she amended, the words becoming easier to say every time she saw Klaus’s eyes darken with lust when he watched her. “May I begin, please?” she added impulsively, drawing on said free kindle books for inspiration, hoping it was the right thing to say. Klaus’s returning dimpled grin told her that it was.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his grip on her hair loosening to allow her to bend forward. She was finding that she liked getting praise from him, that it was immensely satisfying to know that she was doing well, that she was saying the right things. That he wanted her as she was. She wanted more.

She parted her lips, letting her tongue flick against the tip of him, savoring his low groan before wrapping her lips around him, taking as much as she could and hollowing her cheeks as she bobbed up and down his length. She kept her eyes down–Tyler had liked that she had clearly submitted so she assumed Klaus would too–and she felt a light tug on her hair. “Look at me," 

She let her eyes flick up to meet his, found herself almost hypnotized by his gaze in a way that felt entirely different from compulsion. The heady rush of how he was watching her, as though he’d found nothing more mesmerizing in his life than her lips around his cock, was difficult to tear herself away from. So she didn’t. She kept going slowly, teasing him with her tongue and teeth, experimenting to see what he liked. She could feel her pussy ache when he told her how much he loved watching her on her knees for him with her lips around his cock, rubbed her thighs together to relieve the friction there when he told her he could smell it, that he could tell how much she loved being his to command, how much she loved submitting. She reached to use her hands to stroke him where her mouth couldn’t reach when he ordered her to, the sharp tone making her ache. 

He was getting close, she could tell, his lips parting, eyes growing hazy. He bucked against her mouth when she dragged her teeth down his shaft at the same time as she stroked his sac, making her gag loudly. He seemed to like it. She wanted him to come, to watch the original hybrid become putty in her hands. She slowly ran her nail down the patch of skin underneath him that she’d read on the internet once would make most men fall apart.

The internet, as it turned out, was not wrong in this particular case.

She swallowed, pulling away slowly, resisting the urge to lick her lips or wipe her face with the back of her hand, something telling her that Klaus wanted to see her like this. His breathing was heavy, his body relaxed. She practically preened when he reached to stroke her cheek. "I think I like seeing my release cling to your skin, love. Perhaps next time I’ll come on your breasts. Make you leave it there for hours as a reminder of how you were willing to beg for my touch.”

She gasped when he reached to wipe it away with his thumb, holding it in front of her lips as an invitation. Perhaps a command. She ran her tongue slowly along the pad of it to lick it clean, holding his gaze, satisfied at his low groan. She found herself straddling him on the chair a moment later, pressed against his body and fighting to keep herself from grinding her wet core against his hand, the heel of his palm so close to her clit that if she shifted just a bit he might give her the friction she needed. She had a feeling he wouldn’t take kindly to that, though, perhaps even cruelly leave her just on the edge, and she really wanted to come.

“Thank you, Master,” she said again, hoping that remembering that he’d framed it a reward for her would get him to give her what she actually wanted, and he chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. 

“Do you want to come, Caroline?”

“Yes, please.”

He let one of his hands stroke her spine as he pressed two fingers inside of her, curling them against her walls and beginning to move them slowly, adding a third after she’d adjusted enough. She was vaguely aware that she was begging out loud, barely stopped herself from saying his name more than once, and she heard him murmur pretty words about how delicious he was sure she’d taste, how perhaps next time he’d let her come on his tongue instead and wouldn’t she like that?

“Yes, Master.”

He pressed his thumb to her clit, watching her tip over the edge with an expression that might have been closer to affection than lust. She wondered whether she should be concerned by that, by the fact she’d already admitted deep down that this wasn’t just about sex. 

No, Klaus had lured her in with promises of his touch and his attentions, but that wasn’t really the hook that pulled her towards him. He would entice her by bringing her fantasies to life and making her body crave him. He’d make sure to ruin her for everyone else. But she knew that even if she hadn’t given in, even if she’d remained in denial, he would have inevitably won over her heart just as he did her body. She knew his games, was completely aware that he had an ulterior motive for this, that he likely already knew how close she was to admitting out loud that she wouldn’t mind being his that much. Or at all. 

Klaus generally got what he wanted, stopped at nothing to achieve his goals and obsessed over his projects with an intensity that even she, a certified goal-setter, found vaguely terrifying. 

And she’d never been more sure of anything in her life than that Klaus Mikaelson wanted her, at least for now. 

All she had to decide was whether, or more accurately when, she’d truly give herself to him.