Game, Set, Match
He was like a snake, draped languorously across the couch. Well, a snake with limbs, which she supposed ruined the analogy; his arms and legs were impossibly long and stretching over the taut fabric, right hand behind the rough backing, left leg up on the table, shaking his foot to some invisible beat only he could hear. It sure didn't match the music drifting quietly from the speakers surrounding the stereo a few feet away.
Caroline hated snakes. They were so disgusting.
He was staring at her with that odd smirk of his, like he was thinking something terrible—imagining her head getting ripped off by a hybrid or, worse, imagining her naked. She shuddered and his smirk increased in size, stretching across his dimpled face, his lips parting slightly.
"Something wrong, love?" Klaus shifted slightly and raised his right leg up to the table, dropping it over his left, crossing his ankles.
She shook her head. "Just you creeping me out, staring at me like that."
"That's what you do when a beautiful woman is in the room. Surely you've experienced that before."
"You know Tyler would kick your ass if he was here for saying that."
"Come now. Surely he would agree. And what does it matter, if you aren't together any longer?" They'd just had another falling out; one that he felt was greatly convenient, at least for himself.
She felt her cheeks flush just slightly and she shook her head again, clearing it of various inappropriate thoughts, trying to let the insults flourish instead. "I really don't want to talk about Tyler."
"Then what do you want to talk about, love?"
"Stop calling me that!"
"What, love? You do realize it's a common British term of endearment, do you not?" Klaus rolled his eyes and swung his legs from the table, heaving himself to his feet. He began to pace between the couch and the fireplace, expertly keeping her gaze transfixed on his fluid movements.
"It's annoying, and I want you to stop." Caroline was so sick of his deflections.
"Sure, sweets."
"Klaus—"
"Oh, come on, it's just some harmless flirting, Caroline. Calm yourself."
"I will not calm myself—"
Within a second he'd crossed the room and had one hand over her mouth, the other resting on her hip, staring down at her. Her eyes were wide with shock but she remained still. They both knew she could break out of his hold at any time. They both knew the other wouldn't break right away.
A moment passed and she raised an eyebrow, her face settling into its previous annoyed look.
"Did you want to say something, love?" Klaus asked, setting his mouth into a stern position.
She nodded and he slowly moved his hand away, leaving the other on her hip. She cleared her throat and he let out a low chuckle, moving it up and outward from her strip of exposed skin between her skinny jeans and button-up blouse, dancing his fingers along her upper arm to her shoulder, finally resting his hand on the wall behind her, his elbow locked to prop himself up. He was leaning forward just slightly enough to almost be off balance, but she knew he was steadier than he let on.
"I wanted to say that you're a jerk."
"Tell me something I don't already hear ten times a day. From you."
"Then act like a gentleman. It can't be that hard, can it?"
"Caroline, must you be such a bore all of the time?" He stared down into her eyes, watching her become increasingly uncomfortable. She shifted her weight to her other leg and leaned against the wall behind her, trying to appear nonchalant, even though they both knew she was getting more irritated by the second.
It was turning him on like nothing else. God, he loved making her angry. She had such a fiery personality.
She made a noise low in her throat and shifted her gaze to rest on his shoulder. He'd decided on a fitted t-shirt that morning, a deep green shade that offset his eyes, and she couldn't look directly at them any longer. Her eyes followed the collar of the shirt, and she inwardly wanted to run her hands along the hem to see how tight it truly fit.
"No," she said, and she wasn't sure if she was denying her impulses out loud or answering his question.
"Would you like a drink?" He tilted his head to indicate the half-finished bottle of wine resting on the table where he'd had his feet propped up, with one glass nearly empty sitting beside it. "I was just enjoying some quality me time, but I can always make an exception."
"No thank you. Why would I want to have a drink with someone who so obviously hates my personality and calls me a bore?" Caroline's twinge of lust was gone as quickly as it had flourished.
"Tsk." Klaus clucked his tongue and reached up with his other hand to twist his fingers along the tips of her blonde curls, winding the thick strands around his fingertips. "You're not always a bore. I spoke too soon."
"You always speak too soon. And too much."
"Oh, calling the kettle bloody now, are we?"
"What does that mean?" She stiffened slightly.
"If I recall our time together, it is you who talks entirely too much, love." He continued playing with her hair, knowing it was driving her crazy in a variety of ways. She hadn't just come over to banter with him.
"Why do you always have to find weird ways to insult me?" She reached up with one hand and swatted his away, quickly smoothing down her hair. "And stop that."
He leaned in more closely until their faces were centimeters apart, closing his eyes, breathing in deeply. He could smell her strawberry shampoo, her lavender body lotion, even the distinctive scent of her cruelty-free cosmetics. She also smelled of fear, of anger, of impatience…and of excitement.
It was one of his most sought-after scents in the world, and he knew how to elicit it in a person, especially one who had caught his attention such as Caroline. She was absolutely enticing but she knew how to play him as well, much to his chagrin. Their bodies were separated by a mere inch of space, her arms back down against her sides, probably in a weak attempt to provide a barrier.
"What are you doing?"
He could sense her eyes were closed as well. The trembling of her body began a moment later, and it wasn't borne of fear, but of anticipation. Eagerness, exhilaration, rising to the surface of her perfectly-moisturized skin.
"Nothing you don't want me to do, love."
Caroline remained silent, as though that would stop him. He mentally counted through his standard five-second "if you don't stop me then it's happening" rule and tilted his head to the right, brushing his lips against hers, relishing the quick buck of her hips against his own as her body automatically reacted in the appropriate way, moving her face away a second later.
"That wasn't good," she whispered in a barely audible voice. If he hadn't had such keen senses, he may have even missed it. But he heard it, and could hear the quiver in her voice as she said it.
"On the contrary, it was quite good," he replied, leaving his one hand on the wall as his other dropped to play with the hem of her shirt. His fingers, practiced and quick, slid beneath the material, gliding across her toned stomach, dancing along her skin.
"It's wrong—"
"Which makes it right, don't you see?" Klaus' hand stopped at the waistband of her jeans and undid the button, playing with the dense fabric around the zipper. "We both know why you're here," he whispered in her ear, dipping his head an inch to press his lips against her throat, feeling the blood pumping just beneath the thinly-stretched skin.
"Klaus—"
"Say it again, love," he murmured against her pulse.
Suddenly she was kissing him roughly, her lips practically bruising his own, forcing her body against his, the heat rising between them. Her shirt had moved up a few inches and her hands were pressed against his muscled abdomen, exploring the ridges with eager fingers. He let out a growl between their lips, the intensity between them increasing greatly. Picking her up swiftly, they were instantly on the couch, her legs wrapped around his waist, the heels of her designer ankle boots digging into the small of his back. They both fought for control, her biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, him twisting one hand around in her hair to grab it with a firm hand, the other reaching up underneath the soft fabric of her blouse, massaging the space between her shoulder blades and mid-back, his fingers dancing with practiced precision and pressure.
He yanked on her hair and her head moved back, a moan escaping from her partially-opened mouth, her eyelids fluttering. Her pulse had increased rapidly and he stared at her porcelain skin, hungry with lust. Her shirt had torn apart at the top two buttons, revealing the detailed pink lace bra underneath.
He was deeply regretting wearing jeans that day; they were just so inflexible.
"Caroline," he breathed, pushing her head back down to crush their lips together once again, working his tongue around hers, tasting her, not wanting to let go. She pulled away for a brief second, bracing her hands on his shirt collar, ripping it apart in a blindingly swift movement. The two shredded pieces scattered onto the couch cushions as she dragged her perfectly-manicured fingernails across his chest, drawing a few thin lines of blood.
"Say it again, love," she mocked in a terrible British accent.
Klaus grinned and stood up, carrying her in his arms, her legs still around his waist, gripping her thighs with his hands. He spun them around and dumped her unceremoniously back onto the couch, quickly kneeling down in front of her, pulling off her boots to throw them across the room, not caring what they crashed into. Half a second later he was on top of her and pressing their bodies together, reaching underneath him to rip off what was left of her blouse, the pieces joining the remains of his own shirt on the couch cushions.
"Don't do something you're going to regret later," he warned, sliding a finger down her chest, expertly unhooking the front clasp of her bra.
"I don't believe in regrets," Caroline replied, her lips turned up into a smirk.
"God, you're delectable."
"So you've said."
He slid down between her legs and littered his way down her chest with light kisses, working towards her stomach, reaching up to grasp her hands with his.
Her hips moved beneath his touch, almost involuntarily, as a moan escaped from between her lips, biting down on the inside of her cheek. "Klaus—"
He lifted his head between kisses, barely an inch from her unbuttoned waistband, and frowned. "What is it, love?"
"I really prefer being in charge."
They locked eyes and he raised an eyebrow, releasing his hold on her hands as he moved up to sit on the table in front of her, admiring the sheen of sweat covering her skin. She looked up at him, her hair falling around her face in messy bunches, and sat up, leaning forward to kiss him lightly on the lips. Having been expecting something rougher, he let out a chuckle, darting his tongue out to lick her chin as she pulled away.
"Is that all?" he asked in a husky tone, almost feeling disappointed.
She shook her head and reached out, grabbing the unbuttoned waistband of his jeans. "We're just getting started, player."