Salvage your Scoundrel Soul
He wasn't usually that violent when he was alone and sulking; thinking of all the things that he would do to some hapless soul for telling him that Bonnie would show up and surprised at the new and creative things he came up with. The years had really made him sadistic but he resolved to blame it all on the fiery, smart mouthed, green-eyed witch. Taking a sip of his scotch, he leaned back and sighed. Yes, that was better. Blame it on the witch who had been haunting him night after night making him-of all people-break out in cold sweat; awaking in the dead of night all hot and heavy, wearing a pretty impressive hard-on.
You know witch, before you came along, I was never so eager to get anything with a functioning brain beneath me.
"You were oppressed. Which is why the big guy upstairs took pity on your wilting soul and sent me to save you" a teasing little murmur reached his ear, almost as if she had read his thoughts and responded in her smooth, sassy way. As she took the seat next to him, the vein beneath his navel and lower abdomen jumped to attention and he smirked in her direction. So she had adapted to feeding his words back to him, perhaps with a few changes here and there to pass it as her own but he could handle that because although his eyes heated over and sometimes, when he looked at her, sentences ceased to form; it was always refreshing to pass comments and retorts back at her, if only to rally her up even more and heat him with her sharpness.
"If you are referring to Joey the owner of this tavern as the "big guy upstairs", I will have you know the pity score is reversed!"
"You know exactly what I meant by that though it would not surprise me if you turned out to be atheist as well as devious." He watched her under hooded lids and taking his time to drink his scotch, he enjoyed the view. She was quite a stunner, the way her green, cat-eyes sparked with anger and passion and how her pretty caramel skin seemed to glow and radiate heat that he yearned to bury himself in. She wore a sapphire dress that matched the hue of his azure eyes and he smiled, the sheath material and color donning a supple gleam to her skin. She had rolled her hair up in a simple chignon and a few wispy curls cascaded down her temples and neck. His fingers itched to grasp her by the nape and consume her pretty little mouth with it's sensual cupid's bow but he restrained himself. The witch had been distrustful since he had used her to break the spell his mother had cast from her energy and he wanted to change that; start anew with the only girl who had sneaked under his skin and into his thoughts and stayed even as he tried getting rid of her from his life. He was determined now, that the only way to overcome such a new hurdle was to face it head on and if his desire to have her beneath him was enough to cause her to distract him from his plans, then indulging himself could not be avoided. This witch in particular however needed to be approached differently with the prospect of taking her to bed and he did not like the thought of weakening towards her or anyone for that matter, but he openly admitted that Bonnie was in fact quite unique. She had bewitched him, of all people...
"You're staring" she murmured, trying to restrain the shudder that threatened to rock down her spine and betray her nervousness. It was dangerous when his eyes darkened like that as he looked at her. Dangerous and lovely...oh so lovely. It made her feel powerful and desired when he looked at her with such passion and hunger, marginally contained because they were in public and because he had not yet approached her. She wanted him to ask because if she knew anything about Klaus, he was most likely fighting the sexual tension that had hung between them the moment their eyes clashed and she had matched him in a battle of point of views and control when he had held her hostage to break his mothers spell. There was something about him that had intrigued her then and it was subtle things that she began to notice around him that caused her to stick around and humor him. He was probably fighting his arousal and ailing his sore spirits when she had not showed up to their usual meeting spot in the last two days. Tonight however, she had reached a conclusion. She wanted to have him...
Just the thought gave her goosebumps and made her heart jolt. He was other-worldly and all-knowing and that alone drew her in but there was also an enigma to the name Klaus that caused her to always double check herself and make sure she was breathing because he had been making her fight to catch her breath the moment he walked into her life and she still hadn't learned how to control her own heightened and intoxicated in-tuned senses of him.
"You will come to learn, love, that when a man discovers a beautiful gem, he not only studies it but probe and prod and seek it out every chance he gets." He drew her out of her thoughts with his response and she watched him from under her lashes as he took a slow swing of his drink.
"Why is it that you always have a drink in your hand? I don't think I have ever seen you without one."
"It is one of those habits I find hard to kick. It dulled the senses when I was a human and so I drink it now in hopes that I will feel some sort of shift in the numbness. It is just something that allows me to unwound."
Klaus unwinding? That just might prove to be extremely sexy. No, no can't risk it, I just might jump his bones here...
"Now you have got a glazed over look in your eyes. You see once you start staring there is no going back." She broke out of her trance and refocused on the counter top that stood in front of her, agitated that he had caught her staring, while he openly took his time to leisurely cherish her with his eyes while she stole hooded looks and peeks in his direction. It was upsetting to know that she had to cover and shield her inspection due to the fact that she was not supposed to be intrigued or even remotely attracted to him as he was the supposed "enemy" yet he drew her in and she was left hooked like some drug addicted goof that lived off of every high.
"You keep looking at me like that Bennett and you just might regret it. I shall have you know that I get to be quite a handful" he murmured huskily towards her and she straightened, his threat sending a rush of heat between her thighs and causing her stomach to constrict in a tighter coil of desire.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" she responded and turned her face away, unsure if her eyes were betraying the hunger that she felt for him and the pound in her heart at the way he spoke to her.
"Would you like something to drink?" he murmured. He had been pushed to his limit as she started to toy with the hem of her dress, drawing his attention to the smooth bronze of her legs and how they gleamed at him, taunting and mocking him at what was directly under his nose and what he could not have...at least not yet.
"I'll have what you're having." He cocked a brow at that and turning to her fully, he placed a hand over hers at the hem of her dress, stilling her movements and closing his eyes as his fingertips came into contact with naked flesh. Naked and gloriously warm flesh that had him hardening in an instant. He heard the hitch in her throat and breathed a sigh of relief, thanking the high heavens that at least he was not being tortured alone.
"You might want to rethink that" he murmured, his voice sinking to a deeper, lower octave getting huskier by the minute. Her eyes snapped in his direction as she caught hold of the doubling meaning to his words and she met eyes that were now semi-gold in their arousal and her heart constricted with her stomach. Whatever her decision was in that instant, she had a feeling had a large effect on how the night was going to end. Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she nodded, allowing the look in his irises to consume her, from head to toes.
"Yes" she murmured, when he made no move to order the drink or make a proposal to her. He turned in an instant and ordered two scotches and in a velocity that sent an excited jolt through her veins, clasped a leg of her chair and dragged her closer to him.
When their drinks arrived, he downed his in one drag and sat watching her eye the content of hers.
"It will warm you from a chill." She smiled, as if anything could make her run cold when she was in his presence. He had set her on fire and there was no way out but forward. The heat between them needed to be doused and perhaps it wouldn't take one try or two but they needed a resolution. He bothered her and not in the way he used too. On some days when she was alone with her thoughts, he sneaked into them and stayed. Night after night she was reminded of how cold it was to resort to her own warmth. It was then that thoughts of how his mere touch had warmed her completely and left her bones tingling haunted her the most. She was sure he must have been restless too, at least she hoped. It would be terribly embarrassing to know that she had fallen into such a cliche and was drowning by herself.
Picking the glass up, she took a cautious sip of her drink and swished it around in her mouth before swallowing. It was nothing like wine but age had made it sweet if not weakened it's strength. It left a burning trail down her throat and added fuel to the blistering coil in the pit of her stomach which raved to life and singed in her veins. She took another sip and then another, each sweeter than the last and each warming her in a way that she couldn't quite explain.
"I know why you like this so much, it's addictive."
"Don't get too used to it, it's a strong brew and I wouldn't recommend it for fragile human organs" he stated with a smile, genuinely amused and warm. Her breath caught and she smiled. In all the twenty one years of her life, not once had she ever thought up something as fine and handsome as him. It was surprising that he was even real and sat just mere inches away. He desired her. A man that looked to be carved from God's greatest artist himself actually wanted her and she had never wanted him more.
"I told you not to look at me like that" he murmured and her breath caught because he had leaned towards her and his eyes were dangerously stormy. Without looking away, he placed a fifty dollar bill on the counter and grasping her by the small of her back eased her off of her seat and caught her as she tethered, light headed, on the impact of standing up. She hadn't finished her drink and hadn't realized it's total effect on her until she had stood up and it was then that she knew he was right. It was a strong drink, meant to take troubles and bury them for days. She would remember that next time.
"I've got you little witch." His breath brushed the shell of her ear and she shuddered, the tingle between her legs, throbbing painfully. She was so aware of him, always and it was making her even more intoxicated than she should be. Straightening, she took a steady breath and followed him out the door, certain that for the remainder of time, she needed to be in control of her actions, for he still hadn't asked her yet.
They arrived at his manor in no time and she paused at the threshold. Of course she had been in the house before but she had never exactly had the chance to observe it. She took ever inch in with hungry amazement and awe having learned that he had built it from ground up. He was a talented craftsman and she envied the warmth that radiated off the walls. It was grand but not in an ostentatious or pompous way that screamed money. It was grand in imagination and light, from the floor to ceiling windows to the cherry and mahogany wood that sculpted the house. Vintage, Persian rugs with detailed embroidery lined the floor and added more warmth to the space and each furniture was tailored and customized to the fireplace and space of the room. Her eyes caught on the portraits that lined certain areas and slipping off her shoe, she wondered away from him; padding around barefoot and enticing him further. He followed suit and leaned again the door frame as she walked into his work space, her hands skimming over a canvas or two; pausing every now and again to smile or lean in closer to study one little detail or another. She seemed to thoroughly enjoy his work and it warmed him slightly. There was an in-tuned form of understanding that he saw in her eyes when she did look at him that spoke of their ability to communicate without words. She moved to the more recent of his works that still perched on it's stand. So far he had gotten "lonely snowflake" and he held his breath to see if she would say any different.
"Ah, a form of modernism through the old. Very Munch of you." He straightened instantly and his eyes brightened again. It was as if she had heard him speak with Stefan and mentally shaking his head, he moved towards her.
"What make's you think of Munch?"
"Very paranoid" she teased and his eyes softened.
"Believe it or not, I met him personally."
"And let me guess, you both correlated with each other instantly and thus began a friendship of grieve and a poetically tragic bromance? A reunion of long lost souls of brotherhood" Again there was light teasing in her voice and he indulged her by smiling.
"Believe it or not, he was actually quite overrated and melodramatic. Not my taste or type. I prefer much simpler company contrary to the ones that I do keep." She smiled and brushed her hand over the lone snowflake, oddly drawn to it. Complex yet laid bare in a simple stroke of his brush. Expose through modernism was truly all she could say and she believed it.
He believed it.
She was truly something.
As he continued to watch her, leaning into the canvas of his painting to grasp a better look, a twinge of uncertainty coursed through him. She was different. He had noticed that of her from the moment he laid eyes on her and smelt the scent that wafted off of her skin and enticed him. God had finally played the winning card in his ruining because her scent had been the last straw. It was like nothing he had ever smelt before and a perfume that only his dreams had conjured to him. He never thought it would happen, the greatest blend of tantalizing blood just landing in front of him like a form of offering, like a warning...or a symbol. Even Elijah had admitted he had never come across her scent and how linked it was to her bloodline. The Bennett's were infamous for their hypnotizing aroma which singed to life with their magic, enhancing their appeal.
Bonnie turned then, as if again she had read his thoughts, and she smiled at him. It clicked then. She was pure light. Absolute and profound light that poured out of her in an endless bountiful array that trapped him. It was then that he wanted to send her home, make her safe...safe from him.
She shouldn't have been there, with him, of all people. She needed someone without any burdens, someone who was equally as pure and full of light like her. Someone who did not have the potential to severely hurt her. She needed someone special, someone to take her away...lead her far from Mystic Falls. They had all used her, one way or another and no one had paid for it. Not Elena. Not Damon. Not Stefan. Hell, not even him. Anger rippled through him and he wanted to enact revenge because he may have been psychotic and spent over a century on a blood thirsty rampage but he never took advantage of the innocent unless his hand was forced and even then he had always faced his punishment, if not by Elijah...then himself...
Bonnie saw him begin to pull away, regress back into himself and she moved towards him, wanting to bring him back to her. She didn't want to end the night badly and she didn't want him running...not anymore. He was not going to deny either them of a moments peace, not anymore. She had been working on him for months now, neither of them were backing out. Looking past him, she saw the pool table centered into the large, semi-circular alcove that faced a floor to ceiling window over looking the lake bed positioned on the back estate of their home.
"What do you say about a game of pool?" she murmured and his eyes snapped back to the present and he focused on her. He cocked a brow and she decided to guide him into the proposal. Men. Mentally shaking her head, she prepared herself for being brazen; something she had witnessed countless times from Elena and Caroline but had never truly practiced. This was bound to be embarrassing.
"How about a little proposition?" she murmured, trying her best impersonation of Caroline's "come-hither" voice she could muster. Noticing the gleam of amusement that began to creep into his eyes and lift his lips, she rolled her eyes and tried not to face-palm herself.
"What kind of proposition?" he murmured, inclined to give her the time of day.
"Hmmm...I don't know. Let's say in terms of who wins...If I win, I get free access to your paintings and one of my choice..."
"And if I win, you are going to let me paint you in the nude...for my private viewings of course" he finished and she paused. This was going places. His eyes were semi golden again and she swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest, louder than she had ever heard it before. It was odd how she experienced these things for him, things she had thought were myths and never destined to greet her door until he had waltzed into her life like a glowing beckon calling her home...
Bonnie wondered how she had gotten herself into her current state as she bent over in her black lacy bra to make a perfectly simple and direct hit that would mark her winning the game. If only he would let her. Not only was he using some of his natural gifts-much to her annoyance-but he was distracting her from marks that normally would have been a cake walk. He leaned in close again and she wondered temporarily if smacking him upside the head with her cue was considered foul play. His breath brushed her ear and he was partially blocking her shooting arm. Grounding her teeth, she refused to give in to her anatomical need to shudder violently as his aromatic scent invaded her senses. She swallowed and narrowed her eyes, determined now more than ever to make this conquest difficult.
Klaus watched her straighten in damn perfect form and felt himself harden from the view. The witch was by far the greatest female specimen he had ever encountered and straightening, he watched as she took her shoot and missed by a semi degree of an inch all because he could no longer restrain himself and had traced her spine, which quivered under his warm hands, with the tips of his fingers. He smiled in triumph and she straightened, slapping his hand away playfully.
"That was such a low move-"
"Was that a literal-" he stopped short at the sharp look she give him and hid his smirk.
"How about a rematch?" she muttered sulkily and he was all for it until she turned around to fully face him and he decided that as enticing as the lace bra was on her, it needed to vanish, like the rest of her clothes...possibly burned...
"Not a chance" he stated, inclining his head towards the back of the room, smiling as she muttered about vampires under her breathe and shuffled her feet. He moved ahead of her to hold the door open. She glared at him as she stepped into the room and sat on the chair that he pulled out for her.
This was bound to be interesting.
He hadn't gotten far into the painting, having only completed her eyes when it became too irresistible not to touch her. His hand was covered in olive, moss, emerald, gold and even yellow and turquoise paint, all of which got smeared onto her shoulders and the small of her back and the curves of her waist and as he touched her, leaving a blazing trail behind him, she forgot all about him asking and gave into him.
Before he fully consumed her mouth with he paused and with laughter in his eyes looked at her.
"Damned it all to hell. You're the only person who can distract me from painting!" He grasped either sides of her cheeks, smearing them in a bright and vivid turquoise that in his eyes made her all the more irresistible.
"I'll take that as a compliment" she whispered back and he smiled.
"As you should" and draping her in the velvet shawl that hung behind her, he swept her into his arms and laid her in a sea of gold. The satin sheets of his bed enveloping her with a gentility that singed of home, the delicate cloth caressing her skin with a love, he wanted to give her. Discarding his shirt, he reached down to her, brushing her hair away from the lush gleam of her shoulders up to the fine curves of her jawline. She kissed his thumb when he admired her lips with his fingertips and he was brought out of his daze. She sat up, realizing that perhaps, tonight was going to be a different sort of "first" for them both. He seemed to be on another cloud altogether, distant and dream like and brushing the curling fringe from his forehead, she kissed him on the temples and felt his arms envelop her, circling around her in a tight bind, trapping her flush against him. His nose grazed her collar bone as he inhaled her scent, not completely sure whether she was real or not. There were countless times when his mind had fooled him before, why wouldn't it now. He wounded his arms around her more tightly this time and she held him back. He was so close to this happening, what if he woke up? Or worse she pulled away? And then she was kissing him and it was reality again and she was in his arms. Really there and willing...
She brushed his face with her hands gently, concern causing a frown to crease her forehead and he kissed her again. This was going to change things. If this happened...they would be different...
Kisses were meant to ignite passion, tumbling in a frenzy but the slow and steady way he lifted her face by gripping her at the nape of the neck and guiding her mouth on his was different. It drove her insane and made her heart pound in her chest and vibrate through out her body. Air wasn't even a concern anymore and she gave a surprised little yelp when his tongue ran along her lower lip and melting into him, she opened her mouth and moaned openly as he began to slowly extract her taste.
He liked the way she kissed him back, eager and new. It was the only way the inexperienced knew how. Raw. No longer primal but natural in her touches and sounds. He wanted her like that forever. Unsure but trusting and relying on her feelings to guide her. Heat warmed her cheeks as his hand griped her thighs and parted them, his thumb playing a wicked game with her skin. He traced deep circles and geometric patterns on her skin like he was examining the constellations and her skin flushed. His knuckles skimmed over her wet folds and yet he evaded touching her where she burned most. Her brows furrowed in frustration and he chuckled softly, nibbling on her earlobe and murmuring something about patience and virtue.
Her eyes part with tears and suddenly her body changed, almost as if it had been torn from it's grounded state and now soar through and away from her and it dawned on her. This wasn't a boy but a man that was touching her. He knew her and it's functions possibly better than her and he was loving her in such a way that perhaps no one ever would know how. Tears well in her eyes and he paused, sensing a change and kissing either lids, touched her where she wanted him to most. She gasped in surprise, the warmth of his hands and fingers soothing on her hot skin. His thumb parted her and warmth coiled in her stomach. She swallowed and looked up at him, their eyes locking and their breaths mingling. His finger curled and his knuckle rapped against a sensitive nerve that caused her to jolt in surprise her body arching as he hit the same spot again and then again. Her eyes closed and his lips caught hers and before she could react his mouth had replaced his fingers. He took a measured taste and she shuddered uncontrollably, moaning when his full mouth settled on her. Her hands locked onto his hair and she arched with each fickler of his tongue only to have him steady her with his bold hands and set the rhythm with his mouth. Her head shot back when the swell of pleasure had been too much and her body went taunt as wave after wave of electric vibrations tunneled through her. He held onto her even as her body continued to shake and when he moved between her thighs, she opened her arms to him, not sure if she would be able to ever move again but needing his body more than life itself. It was strange the way bliss could be quickly set into focus when he spread her thighs and pressed his length at her entrance.
Discomfort came and went as he stretched her and gave her only half of his length. Bonnie noticed a vein had risen on his forehead and saw the taunt way his neck constricted and his jaw clamped and she arched up only to have him grip onto her tighter than necessary. He was restraining himself. The idea hit her in an instance and somehow she naturally knew what she had to do. Seduction could only be played with two and placing her hands around the wrists that held her hips pressed to the mattress, she trailed her finger tips along the veins and muscles that laced his arms and watched his eyes follow her actions. Scraping her nails lightly against the stiffness in his broad shoulders she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought his attention back to her. Distracted, she drugged him with a kiss and felt him move, fully burying himself in her and she let out a muffled moan, marveling at the sheer feeling of being filled. He froze, the sensation not foreign to him but somehow different. She moaned again as if to urge him on and he retracted only to pound into her slowly. The bed moved and as he flicked his hips and grounded into her again her eyes watered. He slowed only to have her grip his hips like he had done hers and watched in amazement as she pulled him flush against her. The bed began to shake as he lifted a sweet bronze leg up and over his shoulder, penetrating her deeper, marveling at the way she kept pace with him, arching and meeting his deep thrusts, her hips grinding into his in a way he could only describe as natural...excruciatingly raw.
Bonnie Bennett was sensual in a way that made him grab onto her hips and press her up and into his chest and when she was close, he gripped her from under the shoulders and pulled her semi-off the bed, jolting her mid-way and causing her to open eyes that couldn't keep themselves open. She watched the way the dark cobalt blue of his eyes melted into flecks of golden honey and when he kissed her, she kissed him back, almost as if they would never meet again...almost as if their relationship was no longer built from hate or respect but something beyond them both...something universal and intangible.
In the aftermath, she sprawled against his body, their limbs tangled and his fingers knotted in her hair. She noticed fresh love marks that began to show on her skin and nuzzled into his warmth, fully sedated. Much credit to him, he sure knew how to please a woman and turning her face, she inhaled his intoxicating scent only to have him chuckle as her lips brushed against his nipple. So the big bad hybrid was ticklish and doing it again out of mere curiosity she smiled as he laughed louder and pulled away. She smiled and when he gathered her back into his arms, she stretched her body in a lazy fashion. The action didn't go unnoticed and in no time he had her pinned to the mattress, their game starting over again.
Talking had never been either's strong suit but together they found conversation in the silence. They had slept and made love until she lost count and although the sore throbbing of her body warned her against challenging the sexual appetite of an apex predator like the original hybrid ever again, she relished in the fact that perhaps no other woman had seen this form of him.
They cooked together, his hands unable to keep to themselves although she don't mind and when they had finished she wondered how his charm was enough to blind her into having him lure her into a bath with him, his hands always generous with their attention. He traced the love bites that marked her shoulder and half-heartedly apologized although he was far from sorry for marking her as his.
It was unless she had dressed that their time together came to an abrupt stop and tension began to slowly crawl back into their lives. Elena. Somehow the twat always seemed to be the center of every and when he had managed to press Bonnie up against the door frame, she promised him the night. Against his better judgement, he let her go and contemplated how exactly he would present to her his current dilemma.
Making love to Bonnie Bennett had been just that. Making love. Something he had thought was beyond him. Sex. Rough or not had always been his way but now...things had changed. He knew that it would from the moment she had began trusting him, letting him into her life, allowing him to see little snippets of who she was. He had began wanting her and then needing her. Klaus had never allowed himself to want anything that was different from revenge...from hate. He had been alone and he had pushed all those he held dear to him away. He had made sure that their backs were turned toward him and their eyes far from his sight yet he had somehow allowed a slight little witch under his skin and she had crawled her way into a place that alarmed him. Mind, heart and soul had always been separate for him, he had trained and eased himself into that but now they were all buzzing with life...with this feeling of calm after a storm. He was not panicking like he had thought he would be, but his heart was swelling and it gave him this overwhelming feeling of bliss, so much so that he landed on his knees.
He was gonna make Bonnie Bennett his...