Notes: Sorry about the smut cliffhanger there! It was always in the plan. I did post a little snippet, continuing that scene, on Tumblr. I think I'm going to throw it on Ao3 too, since they make that sort of thing easier with the series option. BUT, the first 1.7K here IS smut, so skip if you want, and enjoy if you're into that kind of thing!
DAY TEN: BASSATERRE, ST. KITTS
The first thing Caroline notes, when her eyes drift open, is that she's actually on her side of the bed, for once. The second thing that's immediately apparent is that Klaus has migrated over, his body warm against her side, his lax arm a heavy weight on her back.
She takes it as a victory, belated as it is.
Listening to Klaus' even breaths Caroline stretches her arms over her head, lets out a little moan, when her sore muscles protest the movement. It maybe wasn't the best idea, to go several rounds last night, when they were supposed to be making a 3500 ft climb up a volcano today.
Her poor thighs.
Caroline doesn't feel one iota of regret though. Not when being with Klaus had been so freaking good. Rough and needy, slow and lazy, sweet and tender. They hadn't been able to get enough of one another, had reached for one another, over and over again, between short catnaps and whispered conversations.
She's in so deep. And it's both scary and exhilarating, when she thinks about what that means.
Caroline smiles into her pillow for a moment, before she flips over onto her side, to face Klaus. He shifts closer, his big hand settling over her hip, eyes moving behind closed lids. They stay shut, however, and his face smooths, as he sleeps on. She takes a moment to study him, the long lashes and full lips, the heavy stubble along his jaw. It's probably a little creepy, but she's ninety percent certain he'd done at least a little of his own observing, all those times that he'd woken up before her.
That's her story, and she's going to stick to it.
He's still naked, the blankets pushed to his waist, and she can't help but admire the view, the lean muscles and angles of him. She'd gotten up to go to the bathroom, had ended up throwing on a tank and a pair of shorts (because after an incident with a fire alarm at her first apartment, she's a little paranoid at being caught off guard and less then fully dressed) but she's not complaining about his current state, as she lets her eyes linger.
And then she can't resist touching, the expanse of skin calling to her. Caroline lays light fingertips on his collarbone, a palm on his side. Her thumb traces his hipbone, just below the line of the sheet.
She's startled, when he speaks, voice low and sleep-rough, "Molesting me in my sleep? How very scandalous, for a sheriff's daughter."
His eyes are bright and amused, when her gaze darts up to meet his. Caroline feigns regret, "Well, if you object, I guess I can just go back to sleep." She moves to roll away from him, but doesn't make it far. He uses the arm he'd had draped over her to pull her closer, her back colliding with his chest. His other hand works its way underneath her, and dips low, over her stomach, pressing her hips back into his. And it appears that certain parts of his anatomy were quicker to awaken then others, judging by what's insistently into pressing into her ass.
Smirking, Caroline rolls her hips back into his, shifting on the mattress in a pretext of getting comfortable, pressing her lips to contain the laugh at his soft groan.
Klaus tugs at the shirt she's wearing, "What's this? When did you get dressed? Why did you get dressed?" he complains.
"I've seen Titanic. Boats sink. And I do not want to be sitting naked in a lifeboat, for hours and hours and hours."
He huffs out a laugh, and she feels it against the back of her neck, fights a shiver at the scrape of his beard over her skin, "I'm quite sure an iceberg is unlikely, this close to the equator."
"Doesn't have to be an iceberg. Mechanical failure, crap navigating, a really big rock. Who knows? Made a list, back when we were debating vacay options. I was not pro-cruise, but I was overruled."
Klaus hand slips under her tank, runs along the band of her shorts, "I'm offended that your mind is on such unpleasant thoughts, love. When I worked so hard at relaxing you last night."
"Please. I did my fair share of the work," Caroline tells him, with a snort.
"Mmm, I remember," Klaus mutters. His free hand climbs up to her shoulder, working the strap of her tank down.
She bends her elbow, pulls her arm out, and shifts up to get the other arm free, while Klaus rolls the stretchy cotton down to her waist. She's a big fan of where this is going, lingering aches or not. His lips are on her shoulder, but he seems to be in no hurry, working his way across with lazy kisses and nips, his hands on her stomach, occasionally moving up, or down teasingly, grazing the underside of her breast, dipping under her shorts. It's almost relaxing, but not quite. The need building in her stomach has her heart picking up.
Goosebumps pebble her skin, and she squirms, as Klaus drags his fingers up her sternum, her nipples tightening in reaction. Caroline grinds back into him, lifting an arm and turning her head, guiding his mouth to hers.
Klaus smiles against her lips, but kisses her, slow and drugging, his tongue slipping in to taste her in languid strokes. She pulls back with a pout, resting her forehead against his, "Klaus, come on. I had a good time winging it yesterday, but the idea of doing it two days in a row gives me hives. More."
He laughs, and pecks her lips, a hand finally coming up to cup a breast, "So impatient, love. It's early still." But his thumb and forefinger trap her nipple, rolling it gently, until her head's digging back into his shoulder, and she's arching into the touch.
She lets out a moan, scratching her nails through his hair, as she throws her leg back, and over his behind her. She grabs his wrist, urging his hand down, but Klaus resists, biting down on her shoulder, before licking away the sting.
"Something you wanted?" he asks, his voice a low, tempting rumble in her ear.
Caroline shudders, remembering how he'd used the same words last night. It had been after the first time she'd come, she'd been boneless and sated, expecting him to crawl up the bed, and get inside of her. But Klaus had surprised her, pillowing his head on her thigh, eyes tracking up her body to rest on her face. She'd managed to prop herself up on her elbows, curious and mildly confused. He's touched her then, gentle fingers stroking through the wetness at her opening, tracing her folds and toying with her clit. He'd watched her, intent on her reactions, learning her body, what made her jolt and moan, until she'd been panting, toes curling and muscles quivering.
And then he'd used his mouth again, wicked tongue perfecting the motions he'd just been practicing. She'd been clawing at the sheets, writhing and chasing his fingers, chanting his name, when he'd murmured them.
"Make me come, Klaus. Please," she'd whimpered in response, hoarse and needy and unthinking.
He'd sped up, sucked her clit between his lips, and she might have actually screamed, had certainly gotten loud. Afterward, dazed and sweat slick, she hadn't even been bothered by his Cheshire Cat smile, as he'd kissed his way up her stomach.
The memory makes her hotter, has her shifting restlessly in his arms. She can feel her sleep shorts rub against her, stretched taught over her spread thighs, damp and clinging, when she rolls her hips, but it's insubstantial, and she needs more.
"Caroline," Klaus drawls, a nail tracing the skin of her lower belly, drawing her attention.
She lets out an annoyed grumble, but knows he won't budge, feels his smile against her skin. Caroline takes a deep, shaky, breath before she speaks, "I want you," she tells him softly, turning her head so her lips brush his skin, "I want you to touch me."
It seems to be enough, and he hooks his fingers in her waistband, "Off," he mutters, and Caroline he helps him shimmy them down, kicking them off the bed. He pulls her leg higher, hitching it over his hip, leaning over her shoulder to watch as his fingers glide between her thighs.
Her sigh of relief becomes a gasp, when it becomes clear that Klaus has forgotten nothing, from last night. Her hand is soon clutching his wrist, nails digging in, breathy words, "More, faster, harder," tumbling from her lips as she rides his fingers, his cock hot and trapped between their bodies. Her climax sneaks up on her, his thumb rubbing circles over her clit, and she stiffens, calling his name.
He adjusts, and slips inside of her from behind, while she's still shaking, inner muscles fluttering. "Fuck," he breathes, into her hair, "you feel so perfect." He does too, the fullness of him making her eyes roll back, prolonging her pleasure. Klaus urges her to roll, and Caroline gets her hands and knees under her, head hanging low. He starts a slow, easy rhythm, building her back up, one hand tracing her damp skin, wherever he can reach. Caroline's got her eyes closed, focusing on how good it feels, him inside of her, so much of his skin pressed to so much of hers.
He pulls her up suddenly sitting back on his heels, and she lets out a moan, as the change in position hits something magic inside of her, sharp waves of pleasure stealing her sanity. Her head lolls back against his shoulder, back arching. Both of his hands knead her breast, as he rocks against her, and she can feel his harsh pants for air against her neck, "Come," he urges her roughly, "come for me, Caroline."
She's close, but she needs a little more, and she moves her hand, circles her clit without thinking, hears him moan, as he watches, "Just like that, love. Let go."
A few more thrusts, a pinch of her fingers and she's toppling over the edge, falling back against him. He follows her, tense against her back, spilling deep inside, her name torn from his throat.
Caroline falls forward, slumps down. She sort of never wants to move again, and the fleeting thought that they've really been wasting this bed, streaks through her mind, and she lets out a giggle, that turns into a laugh, pressing her face into the pillow. Klaus kisses her shoulder and slides off. He clears his throat, smoothing her hair away from his face, "A lesser man night take that badly, sweetheart."
Which only makes her laugh harder. She turns her head enough to look at him, finds him leaning on one arm, looking down at her expectantly, a warmth on his face that makes her breath catch, and teeny flutters of nerves and joy spark up inside of her. When her amusement dies, she shrugs one shoulder, tries for a casualness, "I guess your ginormous ego's good for one thing. And to think, it used to really annoy me."
He pokes her side, a grin curling his lips, "Not as much as you wanted it to, I'd bet."
She kind of hates that he's right there. But she also hates the reminder that she'd put so much time and effort into loathing him, when she really hadn't needed to. Klaus touches her face, tips her chin up slightly, "That looked like a frown," he notes, "which is completely unacceptable."
She swallows down another apology, knowing he doesn't want it, and that there's no point in dwelling on the past. But she wants to give him something, because she's almost convinced that this is real, "Why would I be frowning?" she asks lightly, "I'm happy, Klaus."
A wider grin flashes across his face, and then he's sliding down, winding a hand in her hair and kissing her breathless, pulling closer. She kind of wants to melt into it, push him onto his back and to throw a leg over his waist, and spend the day in this bed. Experiment, to see if things can somehow get even better.
And isn't that a tempting thought.
But Caroline's carefully researched itinerary nags at her. And it's not like she and Klaus won't have a full two days trapped on the boat, once the island hopping wraps up and they're bound for home.
So she pulls back, places a hand on his chest, pushes until the gap between them widens, and she can slide out from underneath him. Klaus flops down onto the mattress, with a pained groan. "I won't be able to convince you to stay in this bed today, will I?" he says, sounding pained.
"Nope," Caroline chirps cheerfully. She sits on the edge of the bed, stretches her arms out. Pulls her shirt, still gathered around her waist, over her head. Swats Klaus' hand away, when he drags a fingertip down her spine. "Sorry not sorry. We've got places to go, and things to do.
"There are plenty of things we could do right here," Klaus wheedles.
Caroline doesn't look back at him, because she's not sure she could resist the sight of him, relax and naked and sprawled out on the sheets. She's not made of stone, okay?
"I'm going to shower," she tells him firmly, standing up. "And then we're going to get breakfast. At one of the restaurants."
Not their usual routine, but it seems prudent. It'll be harder for him to give her the sex eyes, and make her want to throw him on a bed, if there is no bed. She hopes.
Caroline hears him moving, and confident he's actually getting up, she makes her way to the bathroom, "Need any help, love?" he offers, far too innocent to be believed. "I'd be delighted to assist you with the hard to reach places."
"No thank you," Caroline answers primly. He sighs, clearly disappointed. She pivots at the door to the washroom, sneaks a peak at him. "But ask me again tonight," she adds, watching Klaus' head snap up in interest.
They don't have time, right now. But the idea of Klaus joining her in the shower has been a pretty frequent fantasy, of Caroline's, since the start of the trip. And maybe even before. And now that she has the opportunity, it's one she's more than willing to make a reality.
Caroline's dressed in athletic clothes, her backpack on the coffee table, waiting for him when he emerges from the shower. He'd hurried, as much as he could, but had opted for hot water and his hand, to get rid of the erection that had sprung back up before Caroline had left the bed.
He felt rather less guilty, about using her body wash, now that he knew that she wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her.
He drops his towel, hiding a grin at the way her eyes widen, before she pointedly looks away. He can't quite remember what they're supposed to be doing today, but he grabs similar clothes, and a pair of trainers, throws them on quickly, before joining her.
She's got her eyes fixed on the door and he waits for her to look at him, when he stops in front of her. Her eyes are narrowed suspiciously, when she first turns. but she relaxes, when she takes in his fully covered state. He takes it as a compliment, that she evidently finds him so distracting, such a test of her self-control. He idly wishes he'd noticed it before, thought to exploit it, during any of the numerous times they'd been in the same room these last few years.
Caroline nods approvingly, standing up. She glances down at her watch, and Klaus reaches for her bag, before she can. She gives him a half-hearted glare, which he ignores. Klaus sets out for the door, holding it open and waiting for her to join him, "How long have we got?" he asks, as they leave.
"Almost an hour."
Plenty of time for a proper breakfast. "And what are we doing today?" he asks curiously, glancing over at her.
Caroline's nose wrinkles slightly, "Rock climbing. Another thing Stefan wanted us to do, because he seems to think laziness on vacations is a crime. It's entirely possible I won't be able to feel my legs after today. Between last night…"
She looks faintly embarrassed as she trails off, and Klaus fills in the blanks, his thought drifting momentarily, to some of the things they'd done. A flare of interest shoots through him, but he doesn't let himself focus on it. Caroline darts a wary glance at him, which Klaus understands. Normally he'd tease her, see just how much innuendo he could get away with, before she snapped back, but he's distracted, when her words sink in. When he realizes that he'd never actually intended on going on this particular excursion.
It wasn't that Klaus was afraid of heights, per se. He was fine on planes, tall buildings, glass elevators, even. He'd managed steep hiking trails, with no issue. He just didn't think it was intelligent to hang off the side of a rock, a couple of thin pieces of metal and some cord, the only thing keeping him tethered.
Ropes frayed. Metal wore down. Add in good old human error, and Klaus thought it was just asking for trouble. He'd thought he'd fake a headache, or work up an actual hangover, but it's too late for that.
Caroline's slowed down, having noticed his preoccupation, and she's looking at him oddly, forehead furrowed in concern, "Are you okay?"
Klaus gropes for an excuse, curses himself for not trying a little bit harder to seduce her. It would have solved his current problem, and been highly enjoyable, and would have saved him from having to confess to his hesitations. He didn't show weakness easily, even to people he trusted.
But Caroline looks so earnest, so genuinely worried. She's tangled her fingers with his, and she squeezes his hand. "I've never been rock climbing before," he starts tentatively, "and I…"
"You…" Caroline prompts, after he'd gone silent for a few too many beats.
"I'm not fond of the idea," he says finally.
But Caroline is smart, and observant, and she immediately grasps what he hadn't said. He's both embarrassed and relieved. "Wait. Are you afraid of heights?" she asks, brows rising.
"No," Klaus denies quickly. "Not precisely."
"Because if you were," Caroline continues, matter of fact, "that would be totally cool and not something you should be at all embarrassed about. And we could find something else to do."
"But what about your schedule? Your carefully thought out plans?"
Caroline shrugs, "Technically, you have veto powers, remember? And I'm not a monster, Klaus. My schedule's not more important than you. If rock climbing freaks you out, we won't do it. Does Rebekah not know about this? I'm surprised she let Stefan put it on."
Klaus isn't. Rebekah has a bit of a sadistic streak, and a terrible fear of snakes. She'd never forgiven Klaus (or Kol – but then he'd done it just last year) for all the times they'd found one in the garden, and chased her around the grounds of their country house. They'd been little things, harmless, but she'd shrieked bloody murder every single time.
Rebekah would have needled him endlessly, had he managed to skip the excursion, for years to come. Would likely still do, if she found out about this. So Klaus makes a decision, fueled by Caroline's easy acceptance. She'll not mock him, should he falter. And facing one's fears was supposed to be a good thing. Character building, or some such nonsense.
Resolutely, Klaus shakes his head. "No, I think we should go, as planned, love."
"Are you sure?" Caroline asks.
"Positive."
"Okay," she agrees easily. They reach the restaurant, and she pauses, a mischievous smile lighting up her face. "How about another bet? To make things a little more interesting, maybe take your mind off of the not-fun things?"
Klaus raises an eyebrow, intrigued. His bets with Caroline have so far worked out in his favor, have made the trip more interesting, and he's not at all opposed to another. "The terms?"
"We race. First one to the top wins."
Klaus considers, finds that he doesn't hate the idea. If he's focused on a goal, he'll likely be less focused on the idea of plummeting to his death. "And the spoils?" he asks.
Caroline taps a finger to her chin, a contemplative look on her face, "I'm thinking a full body massage. Oils, music, the whole shebang. And you naked while you're doing it, of course."
Klaus fights to keep his face neutral, to not think about his hands on her body, the sounds she'd make as he rubbed out the tension in her muscles. He presses closer, dips his head to speak into her ear, "That doesn't sound anything like losing, love."
Caroline grins, shrugs one shoulder, "It's what I want."
Klaus wants it too, now that the image is in his head. "And if I win?" he wonders.
"What do you want?" she returns quickly.
A dangerous question. Because he wants so many things. "Can I decide after I've won?"
Caroline rolls her eyes, unimpressed. "Cocky. So cocky," she mutters.
"Guilty."
"I suppose you can," she tells him grudgingly. "I reserve the right to veto, however."
"Deal," Klaus agrees immediately.
Caroline pulls her hand away from his, offers it to him to shake, and Klaus laughs at her seriousness. "Prepare to lose, Mikaelson," she goads.
He takes her hand, uses his grip to reel her in, brushes his lips across hers. He'd have deepened the kiss, might have even pressed her against the wall, because he's not able to think about propriety, when this thing between them is so new, and so easy to sink into. Before he can a throat is cleared, loudly, behind them. Caroline presses her face to his shoulder, and they shuffle over, from where they'd been blocking the door.
He waits for the couple who'd interrupted to pass, before he speaks, "Let's eat. And then let's climb a mountain. I promise to put serious consideration into my prize."
"And I promise to really, really enjoy my massage. Because you're totally going to be the sleazy, happy endings, kind of masseur, right?"
Klaus laughs, and shoots her an incredulous look, marveling at how in tune with his thoughts she was.
As if he'd be able to resist such a temptation.