kc + "I THOUGHT YOU'VE BEEN DEAD. FOR TEN YEARS. WHY ARE YOU ON MY FRONT DOORSTEP. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN. WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME CRY LIKE THIS I HATE THAT I LOVE YOU AND WHY DID YOU EVEN LEAVE IN THE FIRST PLACE *angry sex ensues*" au
This has a bit of angst. But it also makes up for the lack of porn in the last story.
New York City was a city to get lost in.
A week ago, Caroline would have beamed at the idea of Times Square during Christmas, of hot chocolate and ice skates. She'd have pulled a face at the swelter of the subway and the bite of the wind, the insanity of the taxi drivers. Orphaned and widowed before twenty-five, Caroline had learned how to take care of herself and she'd learned how to live.
Then yesterday, her entire world had unraveled.
New Orleans seemed like such a lovely way to escape the frigid New York winter. The idea of a few warm days had been a blessing. She'd gotten a few recommendations from a friend, and headed out with a smile. It wasn't the Caribbean, but next year.
"This place better be good, Enzo. I'm starving."
"Your love of bar food never ceases to amaze me, gorgeous." A laughter and something clanging on a stove-top. "Your hunt for the best mac n cheese is only outdone by your love of fries."
"Don't start with me. I deserve the calories. This conference might be brilliant for networking, but there is only so much talk about entrepreneurship and color schemes before even I want to stab my eyes out."
"No need for violence. I promise, their grilled oysters are to die for and they even have fries. Marcel is an old friend, he'll take care of you. Introduce yourself. I've got it on good authority that he's handsome, and he's a mostly decent bloke."
Looking up at the sign, Caroline sighed in relief as she dodged tipsy tourists and stepped inside. "I'm here. And seriously? I don't date where I eat, you know this. Bye, Enzo."
Pushing aside old memories, the lingering bitter-sweetness of dimples smiles, she shoved her phone into her purse with a grin. God, she was ready for food. Looking up, her gaze locked onto the poleaxed face of her dead husband staring at her.
She couldn't breathe.
Shock turned her bones to ice, locking her legs into place as her face drained of all color. He'd set his drink down with a thud, straightening to move towards her, eyes blazing with emotions she couldn't read, and panic welled in her chest. A man she didn't recognize clasped the ghost's shoulder, calling his name with a laugh, breaking their gazes and Caroline bolted. It wasn't until she'd slid into a cab, gasping her hotel address that the tears had welled. She forced them back, trembling so hard her teeth started to chatter.
He'd called the ghost Klaus.
Niklaus Mikaelson, third son of Esther and Mikael Mikaelson. 1987 - 2015. Beloved son and husband.
Caroline knew the lines of his gravestone by heart. It's been nothing but cold comfort, thinking of him. The grave was empty, his body having never been recovered. She'd never, ever forget the shock of his mother's appearance, so soon after the shocking loss of her own mother. Esther Mikaelson had been the culmination of weeks of unanswered voicemails, those wretched three final weeks of Liz' Forbes life. The utterly cool regard as she broke down for Caroline the facts of Klaus' death.
"We would have contacted you earlier, when his plane went down, but we were unaware of your existence until recently. Niklaus was entitled to a share of his father's money. Unfortunately, he didn't change his beneficiary, so the pension from his military service will be lost to you. But we as a family recognize that although the marriage was new, that you were married. Where shall I have the money transferred?"
Those icy, clipped tones, the cool regard had sank through her broken daze. The only time Caroline had ever regretted throwing Esther Mikaelson out of her house was when she'd been forced to sell her childhood home to pay for the funeral costs and medical bills.
Even then, the regret was small.
Caroline moved on autopilot, grabbing her bags and leaving the hotel within a half hour. She'd no clear memory of buying a ticket or of the plane ride home. The world finally rushed back into reality as she stepped into her apartment. Shutting the door behind her, Caroline staggered into her bedroom and fell onto her bed, finally giving into the tears that had sat behind her eyes for hours.
If Klaus wasn't dead…
…it meant he'd abandoned her.
"Drink that."
Klaus looked up from his laptop. He glanced at Marcel and then the shot of bourbon with a snort. "Sorry, mate, I'm not in the mood."
"Your dead wife just showed up and then bolted like you were a demon from the depths of hell. I feel like this is the sort of occasion that allows a man to drink."
Klaus' shoulders went rigid, jaw clenching so tightly Marcel could hear teeth grinding. Exhaustion mingled with temper on his face, and Marcel nearly pitied those who'd involved themselves his friend's life. Klaus was known for holding a grudge and a willingness to exact revenge. It was how they'd originally became friends, years earlier. The easily annoyed, star MI6 agent who'd become disillusioned with the government and a young, reckless bartender spending a stint in London.
"You're sure it was her, then?"
Caroline Forbes-Mikaelson, the love of Klaus Mikaelson's life. Her death had shattered him in a way none of his injuries had managed, and Marcel had seen the agonizing physical therapy sessions required so Klaus could learn walk again.
"Some faces you don't forget."
Marcel grimaced at the flatness of Klaus' tone. Klaus was dangerous, but he was usually exceptionally calculated with that danger. "You knew her for what, a week? Then you married her? Are we sure she wasn't involved?"
There had been no proof that foul play had been part of the wreck that had killed too many of their friends. Klaus never spoke about what happened in the air, but something had driven him all these years.
Klaus shook his head, hitting a few keys. Turning the screen, Marcel glanced at the documents that had been pulled up. Tax filings for the past ten years, an assortment of documents that had little meaning to him, bank statements, but it was the death certificate that caught his eye. It was dated nearly three weeks after Klaus' plane had gone down.
"Her mom?"
Klaus downed the shot. "They were close."
"Was she sick?"
Something deadly crawled through Klaus' eyes and adrenaline flooded Marcel's system. "Cancer. As far as I know, Caroline had no idea when we married. I've dug through her bank records and unless she's better at hiding money than I am at finding it, she spent five years clawing her way out of debt."
"Then why didn't she…" He paused at the rage that suddenly became nearly palpable. Klaus turned and hit a few more keys.
"It took me a bit of digging, but look who visited Virginia shortly after Caroline buried her mother." The loathing in his voice was self-directed, and Klaus raked a hand through his hair with a frustrated noise. "I never looked into her death. Not once."
Marcel looked at the credit card statement and cursed. "What are you going to do?"
"I need a favor. And then I'm going to New York."
Caroline looked up from her menu at the tired, clipped tones of a British accent. Richmond didn't in her experience get a lot of those. Her stomach flipped at the rugged, scruffy jaw and messy curls. It was between the happy hour rush and post-dinner drinks, and if she was on the prowl, she'd have already introduced herself.
But it's been a long day after a long week, and she just wanted to drink her calories and indulge her taste buds after a weeks of Kane smoothies and salads. This bar was on her list for a number of reasons, the first being their wild drink menu and second, their small, but delicious menu.
"Tell me, love, suggestions?"
She side-eyed him, the familiarity of his words, but found a tired set of eyes watching her. There was interest there, but it wasn't blatant, and nothing about him screamed creeper. Arching a brow, she flicked her gaze along his travel wrinkled clothes and gave him the barest of smiles.
"Blue cheese sliders and fries."
A groan, and a regular she knew by face set his menu down with a scowl. "Dammit, Forbes, I'd just talked myself into the damn tots."
"I can't help your poor taste," she said serenely as her dinner was set in front her. Picking up a fork, she lowered her voice for the stranger. "Don't go near the pimento cheese. It's terrible."
A pair of faint dimples tugged at his lips, and real interest sparked in his gaze. "Thank you."
Caroline woke with a start.
She hadn't dreamed of Klaus in years, born from stubborn therapy and sheer exhaustion. She wished she hadn't started again. Her chest hurt, and her eyes felt gritty. Staggering into her bathroom, she showered on auto pilot, towel drying her hair before looking at herself in the mirror.
She'd lost the baby fat from her early twenties, her features sharper and a little more worn. Her hair had darkened a shade. Her eyes slid shut, and Caroline took a shuddering breath.
He'd looked amazing.
She'd need to ring Kat, call in one of those favors she was owed. Surely he wouldn't be entitled to anything of hers, after all these years. Klaus had looked good, but she couldn't recall what he'd been wearing. Wiping a hand down her face, she took a deeper, slower breath and pushed the burning in her chest to the side.
Oh God, she was still married.
"Get it together, Forbes," she whispered fiercely. She'd worry about the particulars and possibly getting completely drunk before noon later. Squaring her shoulders, she dug around for sweats and her fingers found her most prized possession. Staring at the threadbare t-shirt - her only memento besides her ring of a wedding and that deliriously happy week before he was gone - she slammed the drawer shut. Her hands grabbed the first top she could find, an old college hoodie she'd stolen from Enzo, and she headed to the kitchen.
Klaus didn't break her when he died.
He didn't get to break her because he was alive.
Digging into her bowl of cereal, she chewed determinedly and worked on her mental list. Kat was going to be her first call. Then probably Enzo - his stint with the military had been hush hush, but he had interesting friends. If anyone could dig into the Mikaelson family, he'd know who to start with. She wasn't above blackmail right now.
Remembering the cold disdain from Esther, rage filled the hole in her chest. That bitch had sat in her mother's house, days after she'd buried Liz, and lied to her. Caroline had never contacted the family, had done nothing more than set aside an empty grave for the man who'd swept her off her feet.
Oh, that was going to change. That ass had a headstone next to her mom. It'd be worth the gossip to make the phone calls to get that removed.
Dropping her half-eaten breakfast in the sink, she headed for her phone. Screw quietly arranging for a divorce. They'd lied to her. Suing for fraud was a legitimate strategy, right?
A series of knocks on her front door had her sighing. No one had asked to be buzzed up. Another, more instant knock and she huffed, setting her phone down and padding to her collection of spare keys. Her neighbor was eighty if she was a day and was usually sharp as a tact but even so rarely managed to keep track of her keys.
Caroline kept the spares. Usually, she didn't mind, but listening to Mrs. Goldstein discuss the finer points of banana bread when she needed answers would drive her insane. Pasting a smile onto her face, Caroline swung the door open and froze.
Wild curls and tired blue eyes that were as determined as she'd ever see them, Klaus Mikaelson stood on her doorstep. Ten years had added lines to the corners of his eyes, and creases to his forehead, but he was so unbearably gorgeous she could hardly breathe.
"Hello, Caroline." Klaus said quietly, eyes moving across her face. "Can I come in?"
"Stay."
Caroline glanced over her shoulder, where she was searching for her panties. To her surprise, Klaus' gaze was on her face instead of her bare ass in the low light. Dawn was creeping it's fingers across the horizon and she'd never been more torn between thankfulness and frustration at her internal clock.
Somehow a discussion about bar fries had turned into a drink, had become staggering through the parking lot with his mouth on hers. And boy, could this man kiss. The curling sin of his lips had more than matched the slick seduction of his tongue and she'd hardly protested finding herself in his hotel, ruining the sheets.
Caroline wasn't the type to stay over, but Klaus had devoured her with such finesse that when he'd tugged her against his shoulder with a sigh, she'd gone. Sleep had been her last intention, but she'd woken half buried under a lean, muscled body that smelled like aftershave and the lingering scent of sex.
It wasn't embarrassment that'd sent her scurrying for her underwear, but a strange sort of desperation. Caroline had had her fair share of lovers, but Klaus…
It was like standing on the edge of a precipice, and she didn't know if the fall would kill her.
"Caroline."
She flicked her gaze back to his, and found eyes full of affection watching her. But his smile, his smile was sin and promise, and her stomach clenched. He sat up, a flex of muscle that had her tongue snaking out to wet her lips.
"Stay."
She dropped her clothes back to the floor.
Klaus was in her kitchen and Caroline felt naked.
Arms crossed, she stared at him. He looked back, not even bothering to hide the way he watched her. It was as if he could see beneath her skin, read her secrets with a glance. She was starting to regret the little voice in her head that had pointed out that this was a conversation to have behind closed doors. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Caroline arched a brow.
"Well, you look surprisingly healthy for a dead man."
Klaus leaned against her counter, braced against his forearms. "I wasn't dead, Caroline."
She shrugged. "So it seems."
He said nothing else, something she couldn't read in his eyes and she wasn't comfortable in the silence. Not when she couldn't figure out the tangled knot of her emotions. Not when every part of her just wanted to feel him beneath her fingertips and palms, to prove he was real.
Licking dry lips, she narrowed her gaze. "Look, why exactly are you here? I think ten years is quite long enough to send a message, don't you? Just leave me the name of your attorney and I'll have mine reach out."
A lightning behind his eyes, the faintest curve of his lips. "I forgot you did that."
"What?"
Klaus straightened, stepped around her counter to move closer. Her shoulders went rigid, hands dropping into clenched fists at her side. "Ramble, when you're nervous. I dreamed of your skin, your smile, your laugh. But I only had a week with you, and I'd started to forget some of the details. The exact shade of your eyes, the slope of your nose; the number of freckles. I spent hours holding a brush and it was never right."
Caroline blinked past a sudden film in her eyes, shook her head before he could close the final gap between them. "You were dead."
"I was in a medically induced coma," Klaus said, voice rough. "My plane crashed, but I wasn't dead."
She shook her head, fingers coming up to press against her lips. "No, that's not what I was told. I remember."
His hands flexed, as if he was restraining himself. "I had to relearn to walk, sweetheart. And the first thing I did when I was steady was to visit the grave my mother had buried you in. And I made the same agonizing trek annually for the last ten years, with a handful of sunflowers."
Caroline couldn't breathe. The starkness of his words, the iron and pain in his eyes were too real for her to believe they were faked. She blinked, as her kitchen blurred, and tears splashed against her hand. "I was alone when my mom died. I called and called, and then your voicemail was full; then your phone was just… disconnected. And then your mom…"
Slowly, fingers shaking, Klaus touched her cheek, brushing hair away from her damp cheek. "Oh sweetheart, I didn't know."
The knot in her chest broke open and Caroline brought both hands to cover her face. A soft, bitten off expletive and then the arms she'd have sold her soul for ten years ago were wrapped around her. A moment later, Klaus simply picked her up and carried her to her living room. Sinking into the couch, he pulled her tightly against him and just held her while she sobbed.
Caroline stirred the bowl of cookie dough she was making from scratch, jamming the wooden spoon with far more force than necessary into the unsuspecting mix. Her hand finally spasmed, and she released her white knuckles grip with a curse.
She'd already washed her sheets, cleaned the towels and scrubbed the bathroom. With nothing else to clean, she'd rooted around in her pantry and fridge to dig out the makings of her grandma's chocolate chip cookie recipe, stolen faithfully from the nestle chocolate chip bag.
Klaus had left that morning.
Running a hand down her face, she wondered how she'd let herself fall for a man inside of a week. Then she'd all but shoved him out the door when he'd asked her to come back with him.
"You'd like London," he cajoled, lips curved in a smile. "Come with me."
Three days, and she was a mess.
She glanced at the number he'd scrawled on the notebook on her fridge sometime before their fight; beneath a quick sketch of a horse meant to make her smile. She might have had sex (repeatedly had sex, actually) with Klaus, invited him into her home for his last night - that scolding from her mom was going to ring in her ears for weeks…
But…
Caroline wanted him here.
Taking up her space, staring at her assortments of coffee and her tequila collection with bemused eyes. Standing in her shower, all lean muscles and flattened curls. And wasn't that the most ridiculous thing she'd ever thought?
Three days, Caroline.
A abrupt, rapid knock startled her. Cursing, she slapped down her spoon and shoved the wisps of curls that had escaped her messy bun. Wiping her hands, she unlocked the door with an annoyed growl. "Yeah, yeah, I'm…"
Her words died at the sight of Klaus. The suit was so unexpected, her words dried in her throat. He looked gorgeously polished, and she was a mess. Blinking, Caroline felt her brows wrinkle in confusion.
"I thought you had a plane to catch?"
Determined blue eyes held hers. "I missed it."
"I can see that."
He reached forward and brushed his thumb across her cheek. It came away white with flour and she felt her cheeks heat. "I was waiting for my group to be called, seething from your very well put dismissals, and I asked myself what I was doing."
Caroline lifted her chin stubbornly. "Going home, if I recall."
"Marry me."
Her hand went white knuckled on the doorknob, air suddenly difficult to pull into her lungs. When she spoke, it was on a squeak. "What?"
"Marry me," Klaus repeated, iron and amusement in his eyes. "Getting on that plane would have been the stupidest decision of my life, and I take a certain amount of pride in not being a complete idiot. You've wrecked my life in three days, Caroline Forbes. I want to see what you can do with a lifetime. Marry me."
Her mouth opened and closed, and he waited with determined patience as she gathered her wits. "You can't possible know after three days that…"
Her words died again, as he cupped her jaw. "I can. I do. Take a chance, Caroline. Say yes."
She stared at him, blinking away the sudden film over her eyes. Take a chance. "If you break my heart, I'll smother you."
His smile was slow and brilliant, dimples framing his smile. "I'd expect nothing else."
Her teeth dug into her lip, biting down on the smile that she couldn't quite contain. Mischief flickered across his face and he bent, hoisting her over her shoulder. "Klaus!"
"Celebratory sex," he said cheerfully as he slammed the door shut and headed to the bedroom. "Then we'll buy you a ring. How long will it take your mother to join us?"
She landed on the bed with a soft thump, tried not to laugh at the way he stripped out of his suit jacket. "Now? You want to get married now?"
Klaus paused, and caught her eyes. "I've a few days' extension, and then I've got one more job to finish. When that's done, I want to come home to my wife. Although love, we might need a place with a bigger closet. You don't seem the type to share."
She kissed him. Didn't care that the oven was still on, her cookie dough left on the counter. He'd come back for her.
Take a chance.
She planned to.
Caroline had cried herself out, finally simply hiccupping instead of sobbing. She felt congested and her eyes burned, but Klaus' hands were on her back and tangled in her hair. He shifted beneath her, body tensing as if to rise. She fisted her hand in his shirt, refusing to lift her head from his shoulder.
"Stay."
The tense line of his muscles relaxed, and Caroline eased her grip. Sitting up slightly, she used the sleeve of her sweatshirt to wipe her face. Taking a careful breath, she studied his tired eyes. His lashes were damp, a sure sign she wasn't the only one rocked by this, and that more than anything eased the fury that threaded through the wild knot of emotions in her chest.
"I don't understand why."
A sigh, and his head tilted back for a moment before he returned his gaze to hers. "I've a few theories, and they're being explored by people I trust. But I think we can both agree that my mother was behind the misunderstanding around my death."
Caroline snorted. "Our deaths - she lied to my face, Klaus. And I want to know why."
"Do you remember why I left so soon after our wedding?"
She rolled her eyes, letting her eyes narrow. "If you don't think that that week hasn't haunted me, then I want a divorce."
A flicker of amusement, the faintest twitch of dimples. "I'm my mother's illegitimate son, bit of a dirty secret if you will."
Caroline's brows furrowed. "I don't understand."
"Neither did I. When Mikael died, my step-father as it were, none of us missed him. He was a tyrant. I went into the service when I turned eighteen to get away from him, and I was recruited to a particular branch fairly early."
She tapped his chest, exasperation bleeding into her voice. "I know this. You were getting out when we met."
"The week I married you, my biological father died, naming me as his sole heir." Casually, he reached for a curl and twisted it around his finger. "Four days later, the plane I was in had crashed. Whether or not that is a coincidence, I've no answer. I know that when I woke in that military hospital, my first thoughts were of you. And my mother told me with such a soft voice that you'd been killed in an automobile accident shortly after you'd been told of my presumed death. That she blamed herself."
Rage was a coal in her chest, burning as she compressed her lips as she tried to understand all the possible nuances. Regardless of the why's or the how's, Esther Mikaelson had set them both up. Had played them both when they were the most vulnerable, had ensured that neither of them were emotionally capable of digging just a little deeper.
Oh, Caroline was going to have words, when she saw that woman again.
But more importantly, Klaus had told her he'd been hurt. He'd had to learn to walk again. And she hadn't been there. The need to touch was compounded by a gut deep urgency to see what scars still remained. Her hands tugged at his shirt. "Off."
"Caroline…"
She met his wary gaze with her stubborn one, tugged again. "Off. I need to see. Please."
Klaus' eyes went dark, pupils wide as he stripped the long sleeved shirt from his body. Her breath caught in her throat as she took the solid lines of his abdomen. He'd filled out a little over the years, still lean, but the thinness of his late twenties had changed. Glancing under her lashes to read his face, delicate fingertips ran over scars that were new.
His skin shivered against the pads of her fingertips, and she let her palms relax, to let them drag against his abs. Her lips curled upwards, and with another glance, she brushed one flat nipple. Klaus' head tilted back, baring the column of his throat, and she shivered at his moan.
"Sweetheart, I've only so much patience, and you sitting so close to my cock has expended most of it." Those slitted eyes caught and held her gaze. "I've survived and been tortured by memories of our one week together."
Dipping her head, she held his gaze.
"I kept my ring." His abs went rock hard beneath her palms, but she held his gaze. "I still have that stupid shirt you left behind so I could remember your cologne. I still sometimes sleep in it, when I don't want to admit I miss you."
He licked his lips, voice rough. "I didn't even have a picture of you."
She swallowed. "I got the pictures developed the day my mom told me she was dying. I think they're still in a box. I couldn't bring myself to throw them away."
When Klaus spoke, his voice was low and rough. "What now?"
Caroline pressed her palms firmly against his hot skin, considered his beloved face. He'd come for her, twice. Her husband. "I need your hands on me, Klaus. I'm not over us, and I don't think you are either. But I'm pretty sure I want to punch your mother in the face."
His abs flexed under her as he sat up, mouth meeting hers. Desperate and devouring kisses, the sleek stroke of his tongue. When he lifted his head, Klaus cupped her face. "Caroline, I knew you were the one after we spent twenty minutes debating the merits of chips vs fries."
She laughed and tangled her fingers greedily in his hair. "I was looking for good bar food, in New Orleans. A friend recommended the place. Completely stupid, that we'd run into each other again, in a bar."
Hot, sucking kisses along her jaw, the line of her throat. Caroline moaned, rocking her hips into his. Her nails scraped down the nape of his neck and Klaus shuddered.
His hands slid beneath the oversized sweater, and Klaus made a low, needy sound as he realized she'd forgone her bra, the roughness of his palms hot on her bare breasts. "Caroline, sweetheart, I need you spread out and naked. As lovely as this couch is - quite an upgrade from the disaster of your last - my plans require a bed."
She opened hazy eyes and tugged on his forearms, and he stopped toying with her nipples with a sigh. Standing, Caroline laced her fingers with his and tugged. Her steps were quick, urgency a relentless throb in her veins, but Klaus was a steady presence at her spine. She'd left the blinds open, so that rare winter sunshine poured in and when she went to close them, he tugged her around.
"Let me see you."
Her tongue snaked out, and she lifted her chin. "I'm not twenty-three anymore."
His smile was heated, and he tugged at her hem. She let the sweater fall away, shivering at the coolness of the air. Her nipples tightened at the appreciative noise he made, hands immediately returning to her chest. "Look at you, you're beautiful, Caroline. And your body wrecks me - it always has."
She stared at him, before pressing tightly against his chest. The heat of his skin felt amazing against her nipples, and she rubbed against his chest with a sigh. Klaus' fingers delved through her hair, tilting her chin to take her mouth again.
He kissed her, like her mouth was heaven and he was a dying man. She followed the the nudging of his body, until her knees hit the mattress and she sat abruptly. Klaus gripped her thighs, and hoisted her back a few inches, so that she could lay back comfortably.
"What if I want to touch you?"
Klaus pressed one hand into the mattress, his free hand cupping her breast. "Later, you can touch me however you want. But I need you, under my hands and against my mouth. Let me."
Caroline flung her arms over her head and arched her spine. "Then more touching, less talking."
His thumb brushed across her nipple, before he kissed a line down her sternum; running his scruff along the softness of her abdomen before kissing a line along the waistband of her sweats. A scorching, heated glance from beneath his lashes and Klaus tugged the sweats down her thighs.
And paused, breath exhaling across bare skin.
"I've grown less fond of underwear, as I've gotten older."
"Lucky me," Klaus breathed.
His thumbs traced along the creases of her hips and thighs, and she shuddered. Softly, touch reverent, he skimmed along her thighs in dizzying patterns. Slowly, Klaus finished removing her sweats, tracing the long line of her legs.
"I love your legs," Klaus murmured, chasing her shivers as he explored the lean muscle and soft skin. "I watched you walk into the pub the night I met you, and I thought of all the filthy things I wanted to do with them."
"You never told me that."
A quick grin, and he sank to his knees, slowly pulling one leg over his shoulder, kissing her knee and biting lightly, until her heel flexed into his back. Then, just as slowly, he shifted her other knee, until her hips were lifted just slightly off the mattress.
"Why tell, love, when you can do?"
His fingers parted her damp folds, and Caroline gripped the bedding in her hands. Lip caught tightly between her teeth, she moaned at the first velvet stroke of his tongue. Shifted restlessly, as he teased her everywhere, but where she wanted his mouth the most. Squirming, she tried to grind against mouth, but he anchored her hip with one hand and she cursed.
"Did you forget your way around lady parts? I remember you being much better at…" her words turned inarticulate as he sucked her clit into his mouth, stroking roughly with his tongue. Head tossing, she brought one hand up to fist in his curls, the other shifting to clumsily palm one breast.
His mouth left her, his breath a hot, shaky exhale against her skin. "Don't stop."
Gaze focusing on his - blown pupils turning his gaze midnight, the lust on his face - she released his hair to palm both of her breasts, remembering his fascination. A low, greedy noise and his tongue lashed against her in all the best ways as her orgasm built. Heels digging into his back, thighs clenching down tightly on his shoulders, she came with a low wail.
"Again."
Her eyes snapped open, shoulders coming off the bed as she tried to look at him, but he'd already lowered his head back to her clit. "Klaus, I can't…"
His tongue delved between her folds, sliding in and out of a mimicry of what she wanted, until her thighs began to tighten on his shoulders, and with one last taste, he returned to her clit. Soft, delicate circles until she pulled at his hair. A pleading string of words, and then Caroline came with a scream.
"All right," Caroline said hoarsely, as she slowly caught her breath. "I take it back. You're still amazing."
A puff of laugh, as the sound of his jeans hitting the floor had her lashes parting. Arousal curled in her stomach at the sight of Klaus completely naked, teeth catching her lip.
He crawled up her body, kissing her roughly, the taste of her arousal on his tongue. She curled her legs around his hips, rubbing against his length with a pleasure filled sigh.
"Condom?"
She licked at the tightly clenched muscles of his jaw, biting lightly. "IUD. Inside me, Klaus."
He cupped her ass and pressed inside her slowly. Impatient, she tightened her legs and used her heels to pull him closer. He cursed, the clipped tones of his accent rough.
"Now, move."
His teeth nipped strongly at her shoulder, and she jolted at the unexpected sting. He licked at the bite, hips starting a slow series of thrusts. He kept his pace, until her nails raked his back, voice a desperate sob in his ear.
"Please, please, please."
Klaus ground her name out between his teeth, one hand slipping down to circle her clit and she came with a shout. A few rough, desperate thrusts and he joined her, his orgasm sticky between her thighs.
"I can't move," she mumbled as he finally shifted off her. A hot, wet kiss against at her jaw and Klaus tugged her against him. Heavy lashes slid closed, and he dug his fingers into the hair at her nape.
"Then don't."
"I must say, Mrs. Mikaelson, that wet is a good look for you."
Caroline pushed her bangs away from her eyes and mock glared at him. His cheeky tone and wanting eyes had amusement and arousal bubbling through her veins. Six hours ago, he'd slipped a simple gold band on her ring finger, and she regretted nothing about it. They'd had lunch with her mom, spoken via phone with her disapproving dad and gotten tipsy on champagne before coming home and ruining a set of her sheets.
Post-nap shower, and Klaus looked like he could swallow her whole.
"That line was terrible."
Klaus reached for her breasts and she swatted his hands away. He arched a brow, amusement curving his lips even as his eyes narrowed.
"You had your turn," Caroline said firmly.
His smile widened, dimples cutting deep as the warm water washed over them. "I did. And I'm very interested in dessert."
Eyes rolling, she stepped into his body, brushing his chest teasingly with the tips of her breasts. His hands went to her hips, lips parting just as her hands curled around the stiff length of his erection. Sinking to her knees, she tossed her hair.
"That's just too bad, as it's my turn."
Her name came out a groan as she flicked her tongue over the tip of his head, sucking lightly as her hands ran along the length of him. He cursed, hands tangling in her hair, the faint bite on her scalp causing her to moan as she took more of his length. The hot beads of water created a second wave of sensation, and the steady noises from Klaus as he shuddered beneath mouth her left her very wet.
His head fell back with a shout as she swallowed around him. Pulling back to admire the picture he made as he panted above her.
"Do you want to come, Klaus?"
Those gorgeous eyes opened to stare incredulously down at her and she licked her lips deliberately. "In my mouth? Or maybe all over my breasts?"
He clenched his jaw. "Caroline."
She sucked him back between her lips and moved one hand to cup his balls. His thighs trembled, hips moving in sporadic thrusts as he tried to restrain himself. When he cursed, her name a ragged warning, Caroline pulled back so that he spilled down her chest.
Gasping, eyes wide, Klaus pulled her up into his wild kiss. She moaned as he palmed one sticky breast, his other hand sliding to her wet pussy. He sank two fingers inside her easily, thumb working her clit until she clung to him, body shaking through her own orgasm. They sank to the floor, water going tepid around them.
"I vote we always share showers."
Caroline snorted into his skin. "Maybe on weekends."
"With an option for negotiation."
"I'll consider it."
Caroline woke to the sound of a cell beeping. Grunting, she pressed a little firmer into her pillow and savored the warmth at her side. A long fingered hand brushed through her hair, and reluctantly, she cracked open one eye. The room was dimmer, afternoon sunshine moving into late evening, and she glanced at Klaus.
"Hi."
"Hello, sweetheart," an adoring smile curved his lips, fingers tugging on one ruined curl. "Learned to share the bed? I remember you being a bit more of a space hog."
Caroline snorted and stretched, sighing at the delicious burn of muscles that had gone through quite a dry spell. "It's a bigger bed."
Something flickered through his eyes, and she rolled on her side, not bothering to cover her breasts. "Reality sinking in?"
A sigh, and he looked away. "I'm finding myself jealous of those who came after me. I was hardly celibate, and I don't expect you to have been, but there it is."
"There weren't many," Caroline told him honestly. "I built a business. I didn't have time. I was serious about one, but in the end I said no."
His eyes dark with emotion, Klaus looked at her. "Why?"
"The same reason all the rest of my relationships failed. They weren't you." Caroline bit her lip, fidgeted with the edge of the sheet. "My therapist had a lot of things to say about it, but I could never completely let you go."
Klaus touched her chin. "I drank a lot. Tried to burn you out from under my skin. My brother Elijah finally dried my ungrateful arse out, pointed out some painful facts. I won't lie, the last ten years have been good to me, once I dealt with losing you, but I've carried your face with me through all of it."
"What now?" She whispered.
His smile was slow and dangerous, and parts of her were very interested in it. "I'm going to bury my mother."
She blinked and sat up. "How?"
"My accident managed to quiet most of the rumors and gossip regarding my parentage; now that I'm looking at it, I don't like the coincidences. But I've called in a few favors, had Elijah do some digging. What we've been finding is very interesting. Esther was apparently blackmailing my biological father for years. The circumstantial evidence that she had a knowledge about my wreck is too much to ignore, coupled with her interference with our marriage…"
"What does that mean?"
"We'd probably never get a conviction in court, but there are other ways to give dear old mum her comeuppance."
Caroline tilted her head. "Which branch of your military were you in again?"
Secrets and laughter in his eyes. "Tell me Caroline, what do you want?"
She chewed on her lip, ignored the way her stomach tightened at how he watched the motion. "I've got some vacation coming up, and I've finally got things in a place where day to day oversight isn't a requirement."
Both of Klaus' brows arched. "What does that mean?"
"I know last time we were in this position, you were going to move here. I'm not sure I can afford to do an even split, but it's been ten years. Expecting either of us to completely uproot isn't fair. And I'd like to meet your family; I've never actually made it to London."
His head tilted, smile slowly tugging upward. "You want to see London?"
"I want to be with you," Caroline told him, with a nervous shrug. "I know this isn't going to be easy, it was never going to be easy, but I want it."
Klaus brought her palm to his lips. "I have a confession."
She narrowed her eyes. "I swear to God, if you're fake-married to someone else…"
He laughed, the sound filled with joy. "I have an apartment in this city."
Caroline blinked at him, brows bunching together. "You do?"
His smile widened. "And an apartment in London."
"You live in London?"
A secret smile. "When I'm not at the Estate."
Her fingers went lax in his hold and her voice was pitched high when she stuttered out her question. "How… how many homes do you have?"
"Right now?" Klaus hummed a noise. "We have four. Five, if you own this place."
Caroline stared at him completely dumbfounded.
He stroked her cheek. "I'd live wherever you wanted, love."
"How… how'd you… you're ex-military," she rambled. "Esther said you were entitled money from your dad's estate, but I threw her out and I never…"
Klaus snorted. "That'd have been pennies, a bribe. A sum the rest of us wouldn't noticed her spending, and a way to implicate you. When Ansel died, he left me the bulk of his money and his estates. The title is minor…"
Caroline squeaked.
Laughter, as he pulled her against his chest and rolled her beneath him. He kissed her, until she arched into him, hands tangling in his curls. "I love you."
She bit his lip and held on tighter. Lifting his head to her protest, he smiled at her, so that the corners of his eyes crinkled. "I can't wait to show you the world."
She huffed, wrapped her legs around his hips. "Celebratory sex first, travel plans later."
His laughter faded into a moan.
"So what do you think, Lady Mikaelson?"
Caroline glanced over, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The air was chilly, and the heavy coat Klaus had produced was a warm barrier, but she still tucked against his side.
Christmas in London.
He'd promised New Year's in Paris.
Enzo was hosting a party when they returned to New York. Klaus wanted to meet the man indirectly responsible for reuniting them; Caroline wanted to get to know Marcel, in whose bar Klaus was a silent partner. That both Enzo and Marcel already knew each other from time spent in London's party circuit was another piece of serendipity Esther could never have planned for.
She turned her face into his shoulder and grinned. "It's lovely. I'm particularly fond of the fact that Esther will never set foot here again. It's petty, and I don't care."
Dimples, as he adjusted her scarf. But the glitter in his gaze, it promised he wasn't finished with that particular avenue. Caroline knew that the audit and fine toothed comb that was being used on all aspects of Esther Mikaelson's life was grating on the older woman. But it'd been the look on Esther's face when she and Klaus had walked into the family's Christmas Eve dinner that she would cherish forever.
"I like your vindictive side," Klaus said. "But sweetheart, we've the next three days alone. And none of my plans have any room for thoughts of Esther."
Caroline looped her arms around his neck and smiled. "What if I have plans?"
His thumb smoothed over her lips, smile turning wicked in all the best ways.
"I'm open to negotiation."
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