A/N: really just PWP because why not. I'm taking a fanfic break for a few weeks to work on academic stuff, but I'll have an update for "No Soft Lights" soon. In the meantime, enjoy xoxox
"Do you have no concept of privacy?!"
"We're in my home, and you were calling my name," Klaus drawled, eyes dancing while she hastened to fasten the ties on her robe. Because her mortification threatened to overwhelm her she opted for righteous fury instead.
"I wasn't calling for you -,"
"Oh god Klaus, now Klaus," he mimicked, grinning, "how was I to know you weren't in mortal danger?"
"I was just mumbling-,"
"Moaning, I believe, is the word you're looking for, love."
"Look," she pulled the edges of her robe tighter across her chest and attempted to look dignified, "I may have said your name, but it doesn't mean anything. And it definitely doesn't mean I wanted you to barge in here-,"
"Into my bathroom, I might add."
"Yes, your bathroom," she rolled her eyes, but really she was grateful for the use of his lavish amenities. When she'd shown up at his doorstep bloodied and dirty from a squabble with some vampires in the Quarter, he'd very graciously offered her some wine and asked one of his hybrids to ready her a bath. She hadn't expected him to offer up his bathroom but once she saw the marble floors and glorious clawfoot tub she'd swallowed her pride right quick.
"Can you leave now please? I need to get dressed."
"You sure there isn't anything I can...do for you?"
"I can handle it," she replied, tartly.
He feigned a penitent look, "I have no doubt you can, but we all need some help every now and again, don't you think?"
"You can help me by running that new vampire gang out of town. They're a bunch of-," his touch arrested her words, light as a feather, brushing her damp hair aside to note the bruise under her jaw. A sliver of something dangerous crossed his face.
"It's done. Now," he said softly, "what else do you need from me?"
Bonnie felt a rush of warmth in her lower belly. She didn't think she'd ever get used to feeling protected, feeling valued, certainly not by someone as dangerous as him. Yet those were exactly the feelings he was starting to evoke since her arrival in New Orleans and the development of their tenuous alliance into a strange almost-friendship. And, if she was honest with herself, it was those combined feelings of safety and danger that had her thinking of him while her hand reached between her legs, had her imagining what it would take to push his protectiveness into something more like a desire to possess. Get it together, Bonnie!
"Klaus, it's been a long day-,"
"All the more reason to let me unwind you," he put a light hand on her waist, "just a little."
She cocked her eyebrow at him, "What do you know about helping me unwind?"
"You'd be surprised, love," he pulled her closer, "for a start, I'd help you out of that robe."
"I happen to like this robe," she folded her arms, ignoring the effect of his proximity.
"And it looks divine on you" he brushed her silk-covered hip, "which is why I had it made."
She pursed her lips, "So now you're a loungewear supplier?"
He tsked, "Bonnie, darling, why is it so hard for you to believe that a man would want to please you, hmm?"
She looked away from his piercing eyes, but the import of his question was harder to avoid. Please her. No one ever thought about that, not really. She was the reliable best friend, the safeguard and backup plan; vampires like Klaus either steered clear of her or they tried to kill her, there was no easy middle ground.
"Because I don't really trust you," she said simply, having learned that honesty was the best option where Klaus was concerned.
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "Fair enough, I haven't exactly tried to earn your trust, or change my despicable ways. But," his expression grew mischievous, "why don't you trust that I can, how does the colloquialism go, 'rock your socks off' in bed?"
Bonnie burst into laughter, "First of all, no one says 'rock your socks off'. Except maybe John Travolta impersonators. Second, you know nothing about what I like in bed."
He'd seemed a bit miffed when she laughed but now his teasing grin was back, "Apparently I do in your little fantasies-,"
"They're fantasies," she interrupted, "everyone has them. It's not real life."
"Ah, so you think my prowess would fail to measure up?"
"I'm really not interested in measuring your anything."
Klaus sauntered over to her again, "And you're not the least bit curious about my...propensities?"
She gathered up her clothes, avoiding his eyes again, because a part of her was curious dammit, and instead of releasing all her tension her session in the tub had only whetted her appetite.
He held up his hands in surrender and started backing out of the bathroom.
"You'll stay for dinner?" he called from the doorway.
It was probably a good idea, let things settle down in the Quarter for a while. "Sure. And thanks." Maybe if she threw back enough bottles of the expensive wine he owned, she'd forget this evening ever happened.
Alas, the evening wasn't so easily redeemed. Klaus ended up escorting her to a guest bedroom, having declared her too tipsy to drive home. She clung to his arm, giggling at the strange modernist paintings lining the upstairs hallway while her sober self cringed helplessly.
"Okay," she giggled, when he opened the door to her room. "You can come in, duh," she added.
"Really?" his lips twitched in a smile.
"Yeah, totally," she stumbled a bit trying to lean into the doorframe and he head to steady her, "I want to see your propensities."
She wanted this, she wanted to forget, to take a break from being dependable, boring Bonnie Bennett. The wine swam pleasantly throw her veins, a blissful tide she wanted to keep surfing. He leaned forward and she closed her eyes.
To her surprise, he kissed her on the cheek and pulled away, "Sweet dreams, love."
"I thought you were a stickler for privacy."
Klaus was lounging on his four-poster bed, barefoot, hand propped against one raised knee and holding a glass of scotch. Violin music poured from the gramophone in the corner.
Bonnie shrugged, "I knocked three times."
"I'm surprised you aren't sleeping like the dead."
"I sober up pretty quickly, it's a witch thing." She stepped out of the shadows, wearing the purple silk robe he'd given her and nothing else. The garment made her feel lush and alluring, even if the circumstances were less than ideal.
His head tilted to the side, and it was hard to tell if he was amused by her or admiring her, "You quite sure, love?"
She rolled her eyes, "Klaus, I'm in your bedroom, in the middle of the night, in a robe. Are you gonna make me beg?" She meant it as a casual quip but realized the sexual import the moment the words left her lips. Something shifted in the air between them, settling warm and heavy over her skin.
"Fine," she turned to leave but he was next to her in a flash.
"What do you want, Bonnie?" he asked softly, inching close.
She huffed, put her hands on his chest and pushed. There was just enough magic to send him sprawling across the bed. Klaus straightened up, an appreciative look on his face as she strode to the edge of the bed and started untying her robe.
Stopping her hands with his, he rose, running the silk sash between his fingers, "Allow me."
A single tug and the robe parted like petals. His touch on her bare skin was warm and surprisingly gentle.
"Tell me," he bent to inhale the scent of her hair, "how did you picture this, earlier in the bath?"
"You talked less," she said flatly.
Klaus chuckled, "What if I promised to make you scream?"
"You are not going to make me scream."
"Is that a challenge, little witch?"
Her heartbeat picked up a little more. This was what drove her fantasies, skirting this thrilling line between opponents and lovers, giving as good she got, being safe enough to let go, dangerously.
She raised her chin, "Consider yourself challenged, hybrid."
When he closed the inch of space between them, pressing her bare breasts to his cotton shirt, she tightened all over, bracing for something rough and urgent. Instead, Klaus lowered his lips to the curve of her neck, kissing a soft trail between her ear and shoulder, warm breath fanning her sensitive skin. Dammit. She could've withstood fierce passion, but tenderness unraveled her. Were the chinks in her armor so obvious?
Just when she relaxed her guard, he moved with vampire speed and she found herself on her back, him looking down at her she was a delicious box of treats to which he'd just been given the key.
Bonnie squirmed a little. She was so used to being invisible that this kind of scrutiny left her out of sorts, heat spreading across her face and neck.
"Stop staring."
"I'm trying, love" he murmured, tracing the outline of her neck and breasts with one hand.
"Still not screaming," she quipped.
She would regret those words soon enough.
By the time he went down on her she was wound up like a clock, wet and sweaty, cursing his name in her head and chewing her lips to keep from moaning. Klaus was good with his mouth, of course. He knew just went to go fast, when to slow down, when to tease her until she grabbed a fistful of his curls and held his mouth in place.
He coaxed her to the brink easily, but each time she tensed herself and pulled back. If he was gonna make her come like a freight train - and all signs pointed to yes - then she was at least going to make him work for it.
Finally he stripped off his clothes and positioned himself between her legs. While he sank into her slowly, agonizingly, Bonnie hooked a finger on his beaded necklace and pulled him down, catching his lower lip between her teeth. His stifled groan as he filled her was a small but delicious victory.
She'd known his dick would feel good but damn, not this good.
Maybe it was the wrongness of it all, that she was lying here on expensive silk Klaus Mikaelson had bought her, slippery with desire for him. Each thrust felt exquisite, succulent, a jolt of sensation followed by an ache for more. The slow, throbbing heat began building inside her again and she had to once again tighten the reins on her pleasure, pacing herself so she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of coming undone.
"So tense," he remarked, nipping at her throat before sucking her earlobe, "but I'm not done with you yet." She squeaked in surprise when he withdrew swiftly and flipped her onto her stomach. Before she had time to adjust, he was inside her with an assured thrust that hit her right where she was most sensitive. A moan spilled from her lips involuntarily.
Klaus was a lot of things but lacking stamina wasn't one of them. He continued the tortuous movement of his hips while peppering her back with kisses and bites that set her skin aflame. At one point he paused to trail his hand across her shoulder-blades and down her spine with a gentleness that, combined with his slow, hard thrusts, produced an almost unbearable contrast of sensations. She was panting, her skin slick all over.
"I could paint you," he said, and she was pleased to hear the throatiness in his voice, "just like this."
That was almost enough to send her over the edge but she held on, willing herself to resist the slow, melting pleasure.
"I bet you say that to all the witches," she managed, glancing over her shoulder.
She paid dearly for that tartness.
Banding an arm beneath her, Klaus raised her so they were chest to back, her body stretched taut like a bowstring. She was helpless this way while he lavished her neck with attention and teased her nipples, mercilessly, into aching points of sensation that made her want to cry out. And without warning, his pace changed, thrusting into her so hard and fast she could barely breathe, barely form thoughts as he continued the relentless siege of her self-control.
"I want you thinking of this tomorrow," he rasped in her ear, "I want you wet at the mere mention of my name."
"Shut. up," she gritted her teeth, trying to regain focus. Without warning, he dipped his hand to find her clit easily. Between his fingers and his cock she knew she was done for, and suddenly she realized her miscalculation. If she'd orgasmed earlier it would've been good and it would've been over quickly, but now she'd drawn herself back from the edge so many times, and he'd stimulated her so goddamn well, she wasn't just going to come, she was going to explode like a firecracker on the fourth of July.
"Klaus-,"
"Yes, love?"
"Fuck you."
She came to the sound of his low, triumphant laugh, waves and waves of pleasure charging through her, spreading outwards from a molten epicenter. Bonnie keened and bucked but he held her in place, unwilling to let her escape even the slightest frisson. And just when she thought it was over, another orgasm that she didn't even know was building uncoiled her from stem to stern, pleasure glowing in such blinding brilliance it was almost painful, and she cried out, wanting it to stop, wanting it to never stop.
Her body started to sag and Klaus once again moved them so he was on top, pounding into her with a broken rhythm that was all need, no finesse. He came with a shudder, cursing softly in a language she didn't understand.
Later when they'd recovered breath, she noticed him grinning from ear to ear.
"Okay fine, you win this round. But only because I was caught off guard."
His grin never wavered, "Would you like to try best of three?"
Bonnie laughed, "I don't think I can move my legs for a while."
"Tomorrow then," he leaned over her, "gives me an excuse to whisk you away."
"Deal," she reached for a handshake, looking to seal this new phase of their 'friendship'. Instead he caught her fingers and gently kissed between each knuckle.
And she had the distinct feeling she'd gotten in over her head.
{dedicated to bae}