A/N: Ok so what had happened was...Anastasia-G and I had a wager on the finale of TO. The loser was required to write a fic featuring...wolfknotting (if you don't know what that is, google it before you continue). Since the finale spoilers leaked over the weekend, I've admitted defeat and thus, here is an entry featuring whimsy, shade, smut and...a wolfknot.
The Wager
"Do hurry up, love; it's about to start," Klaus implored, speaking into an intercom.
"Ok! Ok!" he heard Bonnie respond impatiently.
He listened as she rummaged around in his kitchen below. It was a part of their ritual he supposed; she would leave the comfort of the small house he'd had built and venture to the main house. Once there, she'd lose herself in his kitchen; foraging for any snack food that piqued her fancy. Considering that his kitchen was fully staffed, he'd often suggested having their refreshments prepared only to have the little witch's green eyes widen in horror:
"For Plecverse?! Are you serious?!" She'd gasp. "No, Klaus; this is a night for junkfood. Pure junkfood."
He grimaced at the thought.
Plecverse.
Such a crude name for the headache that plagued him for the past seven years.
He'd never forget the day he'd found out about its existence. He'd gone for a late night stroll while visiting London when he encountered a lovely young redhead doing the same. He supposed she was charming in her own way, but she'd failed to generate any interest in conversation until she asked:
"Hey, did anyone ever tell you that you look like Klaus Mikaelson?"
The question gave him a start. After 1,000 years of knitting a cloak of anonymity around himself and those he held dear, how was it this random girl on a London street not only knew his name but could also somewhat identify him?
"Who is Klaus Mikaelson?" He asked carefully.
"Oh he's this 1,000 year old vampire/werewolf hybrid that just showed up on The Vampire Diaries," she answered easily. "It's my favorite show."
"I beg your pardon?" Klaus scoffed, aghast. He instantly compelled the little fool into telling him everything. A trip back to his flat and several hours of internet later and he was left with the truth of it.
Some little blonde hobbit of a woman had gone and developed a television show based on those brats in Mystic Falls!
That season one focused solely on Stefan, his idiot brother and the doppelganger was of little comfort as season two turned out to be the first time his name fell from someone's lips. It was one thing to have one's life poorly depicted, but this Plec woman was also dealing with relatively current events. He'd successfully broken his curse nearly two years ago and this shows retelling of it was fairly accurate, given their clearly piss poor budget. They showed it all: Katherine's history, the moonstone, Rose, Elijah, they'd even recreated the little spat he and his witch had in her high school cafeteria.
At least they had the decency to cast the bloody thing as accurately as possible, he thought ruefully.
After draining his little red-headed informant dry, he'd summoned Elijah to him. His older brother's frown of concern deepened with every episode they watched until they'd caught up to the show's most current airings.
"You know what this means," Klaus began. The season two finale was in one week and based on everything portrayed thus far, the episode would result in his curse broken, Elijah in a coffin, Stefan sacrificing himself for Damon and the doppelganger still alive.
"Yes," Elijah nodded. "We have a mole. There is someone among us who's been feeding this Plec woman information about our lives. And given that their Klaus has been confirmed for Season 3, I suspect that hybrids are going to become a major factor."
Klaus watched as his brother paced the room purposefully. "We need to root the culprit out and eliminate them. As for Plec…"
"I will deal with her," Klaus answered, firmly.
"This isn't simply a matter of killing her, Niklaus." Elijah insisted. "We're talking about the executive producer of what is apparently the highest rated show on an American television network. Someone's bound to notice if she suddenly goes missing."
"I have every intention of sparing her life," Klaus assured. "I'm simply going to compel her into a rewrite of mine."
Hunting the Plec woman down proved to be no hunt at all while Elijah set about discovering the traitor in their midst. Once he'd compelled his way into her home, he gleaned from her the names of all she'd told of her plans for season 3, which thankfully were very few at the time. He then had her delete all notes on the events of his life up to the moment he learned that doppelganger blood was the key to creating hybrids.
Considering what she'd already produced over two seasons, he then used scalpel-like precision to leave all relevant memories intact while wiping away all knowledge of the events that followed the building of his army.
Call it vanity, but given the instant popularity her faint representations received, and given what he'd left the little demon to work with, she should have been able to create something that bore some resemblance to the spirit of his legend if she possessed even a modicum of imagination or talent.
In one thousand years of life, he'd never been more wrong.
Bloody hell.
After Bonnie discovered the power in Elena's blood and he'd ordered Stefan to flip his switch, he did what anyone should have expected an all-powerful hybrid to do: he had that bothersome doppelganger drained of every drop of blood in her body and disposed of anyone who tried to stop him, save the witch.
Because witches were always useful.
Especially the ones with green eyes.
And silken skin.
And rose petal lips that hide scythe-like tongues.
He'd created his hybrid army with ease and in so doing completed the first phase of his greater plan. One that must never be known by the human world…at least not until it's too late. In the meantime, some hackneyed buffoon couldn't be allowed to even hint at the reality in store for this world.
Taking all of that into accounting, he still was unable to swallow the bilious dreck that Plec produced in reality's stead.
And the traitor who assisted her in immortalizing such drivel?
A mid-level minion who died, of course.
Horribly.
Eventually.
The sound of Bonnie's light step on the staircase pulled him from his thoughts. It had taken quite some time for them to reach a point where the witch felt comfortable enough to bound into his bedroom with arms full of allegedly edible crap and settle herself into the deep cushions of his sofa.
Once she'd discovered the key to creating hybrids, Klaus' actions were as swift and as merciless. Tyler and Elena were immediately taken into custody—Damon foolishly attempted to intervene and lost his head for his trouble; leaving only a horrified witch to tend to.
In the relatively short of amount of time he'd known the stalwart witch, he'd learned that catching her off guard was the key to getting around her shields. She will rebound quickly and strike, but the precious few moments before she rallies are when you may truly press your case.
He turned to her before moving with lightning speed. Bonnie aimed a blast of energy in his direction only to find the space empty and fully formed wolf leaping towards her. By the time she was tackled to the gymnasium floor, he'd shifted again and now held her fragile wrists in both hands. He grinned at the sensation of aneurysms exploding in his brain as she struggled beneath him. His fangs were at her throat a second later and he drank deeply until she lost consciousness.
From there, he'd had them all transported from Mystic Falls to one of his nearby safe houses. Elena was immediately prepped for harvesting while the witch found herself locked in a rather large apartment in the east wing of the estate he'd commandeered decades ago; the witches in his employ having secured it with every boundary spell within their arsenal to contain her.
When she finally came to and realized her predicament, she raged for several days and even caused his witches to eye her room warily and question how long their spells could withstand the battering Bonnie's magic gave them.
Ultimately, sending Tyler to her chambers was the only way to calm her. Seeing his firstborn hybrid alive and well instantly alleviated the pressure she'd been laying on the boundary spells. He watched by closed circuit television as the witch fussed over Tyler, searching for any sign that he had suffered harm.
She would find none as Tyler stood by his side willingly; as had all the other hybrids that came in his wake.
Tyler would then inform her that his blonde baby vamp girlfriend still lived and was currently raising a bit of her own hell demanding to see the witch. He would tell her that the doppelganger's brother also lived along with their friend Matt and the history teacher whose body Klaus once occupied.
All of which stripped down the witch's issues with captor down to the barest essentials:
"You killed Elena and Damon," the witch growled when he finally faced her. It was a bit thrilling to be locked in a room with the angry Bennett witch. She'd nearly killed him and still wanted to if the fire in her eyes was any indication.
"Oh come now, love; I doubt you're terribly broken up over Damon's death," he chided in return.
"She was my family!" Bonnie thundered, the boundary spells seeming to tremble with the force of it.
"And yet she and her boy toys treated you like the help, didn't they?" Klaus asked as he lazily studied his fingernails.
"You don't know anything about it," the witch hissed, still hanging on to whatever control of her magic she still had.
"Perhaps, not," he agreed. "But I do know about inevitability and unfortunately for your doppelganger friend when it comes to her kind, death and inevitability are married."
"You don't know what you're talking about," Bonnie insisted.
"I'm afraid I do," Klaus replied smoothly. "There's a great deal about our world you've yet to learn, little witch. Doppelgangers are nature's attempts at course correction. Their deaths a necessary spoke in the wheel of life. Without it, things tend to get thrown completely off balance and the longer they're kept alive, the worse things tend to get."
The raised a hand to silence her when the witch opened her mouth to protest.
"Witness, the fact if Elena had simply died when my curse was broken…why…I wouldn't have the ability to make hybrids, now would I?" He watched in amusement as her face fell with his implication.
"Cheers for that, love," he winked as he allowed the truth of his words to slice her just the tiniest bit more deeply.
"Now while it is unfortunate that your friend's loss has and will continue to cause you pain; it is a pain that was also inevitable despite your best efforts. In fact, I've spared you the fate of Sisyphus and relieved you of your boulder."
He leaned forward as close as he dared and felt the heat of her magic crackling against his skin.
"You're welcome."
That had been the start of it: his campaign to bring the witch to his side. The Bennetts were an endangered yet powerful bloodline-its living descendants few and far between. To have one in his camp would be an invaluable position from which to operate, especially considering the young witch's still untapped potential.
He allowed Tyler to return to her as often as he liked and he always bore news of life back home in the months after all that had transpired. Her father had been compelled to never question her whereabouts, while Jeremy Gilbert mourned his sister and accepted the fate of his girlfriend before moving on, Matt Donovan was being scouted by universities and life was as quiet as it had ever been in the small town of Mystic Falls, Virginia.
Caroline's visit was what finally made the witch listen to reason. The blonde vampire's simple tales of life slowly returning to normal were what finally pushed Bonnie to accept that the world had not stopped with the death of Elena Gilbert.
After that, it was simply a matter of convincing the young witch of the merits of being in his employ.
"You're a monster!" Bonnie argued.
"And yet the humans have brought this world closer to annihilation than I ever have," he reasoned.
"I am not signing up to help you destroy everyone and everything!"
"At this point, you're free to leave if you like," Klaus replied. "However don't let that be the reason you go."
"You see, if I need witches morally bankrupt enough to serve my more nefarious pursuits, I already have them. And if I need witches noble enough to battle any army of demons that's been unleashed by some poor fool, I already have them.
"What I need, is a witch to permit behind the curtain. One able to stand shoulder to shoulder with kings and see the tapestry as it's being woven; to critique its design and suggest alteration."
"And you want me to do that?" Bonnie asked doubtfully.
"Eventually," Klaus answered. "First, I would have you submit to proper study of magic. I have quite a few witches experienced in training entire covens at your disposal."
He dipped his head as his voice lowered. "While your brute strength is quite fetching, that should not be all that you are."
She was paid handsomely for her services; the first year of her employment was met with her head in a grimoire day in and day out. And if she wasn't studying she was practicing. It was an enjoyable experience watching her discover and learn the subtleties of the magic within her grasp.
However the ice between them didn't truly begin to thaw until the day he summoned her to meet with him after she'd returned from several days out in the field with a local coven.
Their meetings had never taken place in his private rooms before, but given that this was the first time the witch had been gone for such an extended period of time, he found that he was eager to see her.
When she entered his bedroom, she found him seated on the sofa watching television. A man who bore a striking resemblance to Klaus writhed in agony on the screen.
"No! It can't be!" He cried out in rage.
The camera cuts to a young black woman who also bore a striking resembling to herself striding forward with her arms outstretched as she screamed in something pretending to be Latin. The wind was a fury around them as flames shot high into the air.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!" Bonnie exclaimed in shock as Klaus paused the recording.
"Oh didn't you know?" Klaus answered over his shoulder. "Someone's gone and made a television show about us."
He told her everything and invited her to watch it all from the beginning. He half expected her to refuse given her aversion to him, but curiosity got the better of her; nudging her into taking a seat next to him on the sofa, her arms folded tightly across her chest. One episode became three and soon the witch had agreed to meeting with him weekly to watch a funhouse mirror's reflection of their lives.
She tended to watch in silence—the occasionally sharp intake of breath the only sign she paid attention—but it wasn't until the third season that she finally spoke.
"Waitaminute…I brought him back from the dead and he cheats on me with a ghost? Who wrote this garbage?"
"Serves you right. You could have done better than him in the first place," Klaus replied. "Meanwhile here I am king of all monsters, master of all I survey…."
"And yet you still make time to vanquish puppy love," Bonnie finished with a smirk.
They continued on in this way as each new season came and went and always worse than the one that came before it.
Season 4:
"Woah…they really made Elena a vampire."
"Do I actually do anything on this show beside drink and smirk?"
"Oh sure! Of course the black witch is a magic junkie! I see you, Plec; you dumpy blonde bitch."
"Oh what in fuck is a sirebond?"
"First he's a whiny cheater who see dead people and now he's an aggro-hunter?"
"In what world would I ask Damon Salvatore for advice about women?" Klaus wondered aloud. "And for the record…while Caroline is charming, I've seen what he sees in her in at least 1500 other women in my lifetime."
"Hell, I'd be fine with one," Bonnie mused. "I mean wouldn't narrative symmetry call for the actress playing me to also play this Qetsiyah lady? Look at all of the rest of these doppelgangers running around."
"I did tell you. Even in this fiction, not killing the doppelganger only succeeded in making things much worse," Klaus pointed out, only to be rewarded with an eye roll. "Be glad they didn't go that route with your character else you'd be marked for death."
"But I want to be killed off of this crap," Bonnie huffed.
By season 5 they'd heard the news that Klaus was getting a spin off.
"Of course, he is," Klaus smirked. "His popularity is unmatched. And one can at least hope that separation from the nonsense happening on this show will improve his story line."
And yet again, Plec had proven him wrong.
"You're a baby daddy. That lame one night stand made you a baby daddy," Bonnie announced, her voice trembling with mischievous glee.
"I am not a baby daddy," Klaus gritted out.
Bonnie leaned towards him on the couch. "You've got a baby maaaaaammaaaaaaa…." She sang teasingly.
"This is absurd," he muttered.
"Look at the bright side," Bonnie offered. "At least you didn't finally get killed off—Yay! Only to become a ghost—Boo! And then get turned into whatever the hell an Anchor is only to suffer all day every day. I mean did the actress that plays me piss in Plec's cornflakes or something?"
It was a morbid curiosity shared between them; one that allowed them to commiserate over the absurdity of it all. But it was the sixth season that produced the strongest reaction from the witch. Plot holes the size of Texas found Bonnie's counterpart trapped and alone in a prison world. They watched as she drunkenly poured out her sorrows to a video camera while inhaling carbon monoxide.
He glanced over in time to see a lone tear fall land on Bonnie's cheek as she listened to her sobbing lament.
"Perhaps she will finally be killed off as you'd hoped," Klaus said quietly.
"No, she won't," Bonnie replied sadly. "She's a plot device. She'll suffer alone until she's useful and then she'll save the day. It's happened every season so far."
Not long after that episode, an enemy of his had the audacity to ambush his witch with the intent of holding her for ransom. The custom-built Tesla he'd given her for her birthday was found in a crumpled heap along the highway; Bonnie nowhere in sight.
"You're making a mistake," he heard her insist once he'd sniffed out her location. "Klaus has an entire army of witches. He wouldn't send someone just for me."
The hint of sadness in her voice only fueled his anger as he ripped the iron cell door from its hinges. He was forced to dispatch her captors more quickly than he would have liked given that Bonnie still bore injuries from the crash.
"You're right, little witch," he replied before biting into his wrist and feeding her. "I wouldn't."
The look of genuine surprise in her eyes as she fed pleased him in a way he hadn't anticipated while it also irritated. Did she truly believe that she would have been left to fend for herself?
Since she'd agreed to become his witch, Bonnie had become an integral part of his kingdom and held the distinction of being universally liked. Even the more bloodthirsty segments deferred to her without question. In fact, he'd found that no other's word—save Elijah—could sway him when his mind was set upon a course of action.
Once she healed, he gathered her into his arms and carried her from the cell. It was then that the witch saw the totality of the sentence he'd passed upon her captors and their allies as the carnage Klaus leveled upon them was absolute. Bodies lay torn apart; their entrails festooning the walls as he walked through puddles of blood several inches deep.
"It's just so weird..." Bonnie said softly some time later during one of their hatewatch sessions as she called them.
"That your counterpart has been sentenced to babysitting Damon Salvatore? Yes...very weird indeed," Klaus answered dryly.
"No, I mean...that isn't my life, but it could have been."
"Nonsense," Klaus scoffed. "I seriously doubt you'd have allowed yourself to become entangled in even half of the stupidity displayed on that show."
"Yeah but sometimes I wonder how my life would have turned out if you hadn't killed Elena; and I can see myself still ready to die for her and still being treated like the help, as you once put it."
Indeed, Bonnie's life was a great deal different from the one displayed on television. Her father was alive and enjoying an early retirement; never questioning where she'd been or where she was going, but always happy for her frequent visits. Tyler lived and thrived as well with Caroline still at his side.
As for the witch herself, she'd been able to travel the world as one of his most trusted advisors. She'd won battles that saved lives and cast spells that boggled the mind.
"It is the paradox of the doppelganger," Klaus explained. "They are a phenomenon that instills an inherent need to protect; but to do so is folly for their moments on this earth were always meant to be brief."
"I never thanked you," She said quietly after a moment. "For coming to get me that time I was taken, I mean."
Klaus studied her carefully as she tried to avoid his gaze. Her gratitude was sincere and he knew that it was as close as she would get to thanking him for what she was truly grateful for.
"As I said, little witch. You're welcome."
They continued to watch both shows routinely until finally season 8 of the Vampire Diaries ended and it was announced that the 5th season of its spin-off The Originals would be its last.
"So at the end of it all," Bonnie began. "I, the world building Bennett witch that held back the fires of hell, wind up with a plane ticket to Africa." Her fingers curled into air quotes. "But Caroline the former drama major turned tv news producer is the one who opens a magical school?" She shook her head incredulously.
"How do you kill Stefan over Damon?" Klaus wondered aloud.
"I honestly don't know," Bonnie replied, thinking of over the years the younger Salvatore had managed to find a balance where his blood addiction was concerned. At first it seemed he would never forgive Klaus for either Elena's death or forcing him to turn off his humanity, but it had been Bonnie's observation that immortals tended to gravitate to one another as familiar signposts on a journey without end.
Now, witch and hybrid sat on a sofa to bid adieu to the fictional universe that had done neither of them justice.
"I don't get why you're so eager to watch yourself get killed off," Bonnie muttered as she carefully arranged the snacks between them.
"That's because I won't be killed off, love," Klaus smirked.
"You really don't think Plec would get rid of you?"
"Should she? Yes, of course she should. But that little blonde troll doesn't have the depth for such an act of finality."
"True but I kind of think it's out of her hands though," Bonnie pointed out. "I mean all of these actors started phoning it in after the third season. The star of the show isn't interested in the spin off so they're going to have to account for his absence. And a presence as big as his is supposed to be, can't spend however long off camera while his daughter galivants through Mystic Falls. Plus 8 seasons of the Vampire Diaries proves that she's anti-parent and pro-orphan. He's dead meat, Klaus and she's probably goofy enough to call it Shakespearean."
"Elijah will fly in at the last moment and take Klaus's place," he assured.
"I hope you're wrong because I've been sick of this guy," Bonnie huffed.
"Really? Why?" Klaus asked as the witch picked at a popcorn ball.
"He's nothing like you," Bonnie replied. "Sure he's pretty close in the looks department but that's about it. He was more accurate on Diaries before they needed to humanize him for this spin off. This guy is a petulant, guilt-ridden, schmuck who monologues too much and always feels sorry for himself. You wouldn't make the kinds of mistakes this guy's made and you definitely throw better parties. Even your tattoos are better."
"His are a bit dated, aren't they?"
"Mmhmm," Bonnie nodded as she passed him a bag of pork rinds.
"Would you care to place a friendly wager on the outcome then?"
"A bet on whether you die or not?" Bonnie asked. "That's a sucker's bet, Klaus and you're the sucker."
"Then you should have no problem winning it and availing yourself of whatever you think an appropriate reward."
Bonnie chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. "Alright. If I win...I get to take The Little Witch out," she said, speaking of the 350 ft yacht he'd bought several months ago.
"And when I win?" Klaus asked. "What will I get?"
"Well I don't know...what do you want?" Bonnie asked as she reached for a beer bottle.
"A kiss."
Bonnie's hand froze mid-air. "A what?"
"You heard me. If I win—and I will—I want a kiss," Klaus smirked, his dimples on full display.
Bonnie blinked furiously as she fought valiantly against the flush of red that nonetheless rose in her cheeks.
"Um...um...why?"
"Because you've already given me your wrath, your allegiance, your skill, even your blood in certain instances. In fact, there's very little you haven't given me and a kiss would be counted among them." How flustered the witch became whenever their conversations happened to veer toward more intimate matters never ceased to please.
Bonnie finally grabbed her bottle of beer in a slightly shaky hand and drank deeply. Why not? It wasn't like she'd lose. Everything on the show so far had led to the likelihood of Klaus sacrificing himself for his daughter's sake. She'd bet anything that the now iconic character would be dead before the end credits.
Anything, including a kiss.
"Fine," she said with bravado. "If I win, I get to play with the yacht and if you win...you get a kiss."
"Deal?" Klaus asked, extending his hand to swallow one of her own.
"Deal," Bonnie said firmly. "Now shhhh it's about to start."
BKBKBKBKBK
They sat in silence as the end credits rolled. From the corner of his eye, Klaus watched as the witch drummed her fingers on her knees; practically vibrating with excitement.
"Alright, get it over with," he sighed just as Bonnie sprang up from her seat.
"I knew it! I told you! Ha!" She jumped up and down on the sofa before jumping off and dancing her way around the massive bedroom suite; shouting and hooting her victory the entire time.
"Yes, yes and a broken clock tells perfect time twice a day," he grumbled, suppressing a smile at the witch's antics. "What's most important is that this garbage fire is finally out."
"Don't be a sore loser, Klaus," Bonnie teased with a grin.
She caught the glint of mischief in his eye just as lunged at her, grasping only air as she disappeared from sight and reappeared on the opposite side of the room.
"Finally got teleportation sorted?" He asked, impressed.
"Yep," Bonnie replied smugly and vanished again when the hybrid came charging. She continued to elude him; appearing and disappearing at will until Klaus slowed down his pursuit.
Crouched atop a large writing desk, Klaus surveyed the seemingly empty room as he narrowed his senses to a fine point and honed in on the witch's scent. Determining where it was strongest, he leapt across the room just as Bonnie reappeared, his arms around her instantly as they both tumbled to the floor.
He rolled the breathlessly giddy witch beneath him, taking full measure of her wide smile and dancing eyes.
He'd always been of the opinion that pleasure was easy to attain; found even in the most mundane of places. Delight however was a rarity and yet here it lay; giggling in his arms. Bonnie Bennet was a delight. His delight. Her every virtue and vice held dear.
Bonnie's laughter faded at the look in his eyes. She'd seen it before; a mixture of warmth and desire that always made her heart race and usually sent her heading for the nearest exit.
Now, she was trapped as the hybrid's body caged her in; his lips inches away from hers.
She hadn't expected them to be so soft when they found hers; nor did she expect the fire they ignited within her with their tenderness. He had gone from her enemy to her king and now her friend and as he pressed his body into hers; his fingertips threading through her hair as he cupped her face, it was now clear that he intended to become a great deal more.
Klaus hummed in approval when Bonnie's arms wrapped around him and felt her body shift beneath his; allowing his lower half to settle between her denim clad-thighs. He kissed her deeply when her lips parted; his tongue relishing the sweetness of her mouth. Magic still sparked from her skin after her little display and the taste of it sent charges through his body.
When he felt her catch his bottom lip between her sharp little teeth, it was as a signal to his wolf and he was overcome with an urgency to claim what he had long coveted.
Almost simultaneously, they descended into a flurry of fumbling hands; tugging and ripping at the clothes that hindered them. Bonnie gasped sharply as Klaus' mouth found one of her breasts; her shirt and bra torn in such a way as to momentarily bind her arms to her sides as he feasted.
When her arms were finally free, her hands went for his belt. Eager fingers yanked at the soft leather and worked the buttons of his jeans free; hands and feet working in concert to push them down to his ankles.
He entered her swiftly, sheathing himself to the hilt. the tightness of her walls around him caused a sharp tingle in his spine; one which usually heralded an oncoming shift. As soon as he made that realization he felt his already rock-hard cock begin to thicken and swell to an near painful degree within her.
Bonnie's eyes flew open at the sensation in time to see Klaus' eyes change from indigo to the yellow of his wolf and his canines force themselves through his gums.
"What's happening?" Bonnie panted as he held himself still. The confusion that clouded his features should have caused alarm. But the intense pressure of being filled so completely felt good enough to betray reason.
"I don't know," Klaus gritted out in disbelief. "I think I've...knotted and I don't think I can stop." There was no escape as her arousal assailed him and her folds fondled him to the brink of sanity. He was locked in and any attempt to remove himself before his release would likely cause her tremendous pain.
"I didn't ask you to," Bonnie gasped as her eyes rolled back, her legs wrapping around his waist.
"Oh, thank the gods," Klaus groaned as kissed her hard; relieved that they were both undeterred.
Bonnie cried out as he began to move within her; each thrust sending ripples of pleasure through her body as she clawed at his back, unaware of the way her perfectly manicured fingernails had elongated into claws. She felt her control on her magic slip, but rather than battering itself around the room, it seemed to drive itself further inward, charging her in ways she'd never felt before.
Klaus raised her up to straddle his thighs as his hands guided her hips at a furious pace. When he felt teeth sharper than they should have been sink into his shoulder as she came, he followed soon after; the odd half-shift he undergone already beginning to fade as his seed filled her.
Bonnie clung to him as she rode out the aftershocks of her release; her breathing labored as she pressed her forehead to his and kissed him sloppily. She knew in her bones that something had taken place, and she would worry about the implication in the morning. For now, she only had energy enough to float on the cloud that two shitty shows and silly wager had set her upon.
BKBKBKBKBK
Klaus fingers lingered at the small of Bonnie's bare back as she slept; one of her legs thrown across him as she nestled against his chest. He'd taken her several more times during the night without incident; each time as exquisite as the last, but none had been a repeat of the first.
When she awakened, she would likely stammer and blush and do her best to downplay what had taken place. But in the end, she knew as well as he that things had forever changed between them.
Even more than even he had anticipated, he mused to himself; his mind returning to the moment he first entered her. He had never experienced such a physical change before let alone the one Bonnie temporarily underwent. The memory of her eyes changing to a yellow that matched his own and the rather adorable set of canines that appeared made his cock stir in response.
He heard Bonnie sigh as she cuddled closer to him. He could spend the next several days pondering what had happened, but deep down where instinct ruled, he already knew. The notes of her scent had already begun to change over the last hour and he felt himself becoming more preternaturally aware of her than he had been. A bond born of magic had been created and likely would produce a child in several months.
She wanted to go yachting, he thought as he pressed a kiss into her hair. Very well. He would ask his secretary to see that The Little Witch was prepared for launch with his small island in Seychelles as the destination.
There he would tell her of his suspicions and do what he had always done with regard to her:
He would catch her off guard and use the precious few moments before she rallied to truly press his case.
The End.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think and btw the update to Kissed by Fire is almost done!