The grounds beneath her window were lovely at night. The moon was bright, and Caroline had carefully pulled the heavy drapes aside to feel the chill of the night air. Wrap tugged around her shoulders, she shivered and tried to let the the formal patterns of the garden soothe her tired mind.
The nightmare wasn't new. This was the third night that sleep had eluded her, and yet her mind continued to turn in useless circles. The last few nights had taken their toll, and exhaustion had left her eyes gritty. Even in the dark of her room, moonlight and banked coals her only light, she couldn't find peace.
Klaus was home.
Her husband had returned that evening, but had chosen not to join her for the evening repast. Her fingers curled into her palms, and her brows bunched together. She'd caught a mere glimpse of him as he strode past the dining room, but he'd chosen to remain in his study long after she'd retired. Caroline had tried to stay awake, she needed to know if he was already regretting his choice. She'd failed.
Now there was only silence from the adjoining room and Caroline was too much of a coward to confront him when he might not be fully clothed. Her cheeks burned, at the memory of the single kiss they'd shared.
She hadn't been able to let go of the bouquet. It wasn't fashionable, the bright array of colors, the assortment of blooms. Weddings were demure, solemn occasions and Klaus…
Klaus had gathered them.
Her chest ached. Fingers brushing over a single bloom, she found that the few short days she'd known this man had ravaged something in her chest. The sardonic comments about marriage, his brusque care of her told her much about him and yet not enough.
Turning, she faced her new husband as he offered her hand to help her into the carriage. "I'm sorry it came to this."
Klaus arched a brow, the blue in his eyes darkening with an emotion she couldn't read. "Second thoughts? We have certainly gone past the point of no return, Caroline."
There was a rustle of voices, but she ignored them, face stubborn as she shook her head. Her lips parted to argue with him, but whatever words she might've used died in her throat as he bent and kissed her. It was no polite joining of lips, but something hot and wet. She made a noise she hadn't known herself capable of when he lifted his head. His eyes flicked behind her, and his voice was low and possessive when he spoke again.
"We are married, Caroline, and any attempts to rescind the matter would leave your reputation in tatters, something I will not allow. I believe you'll find the good Bishop would also have an opinion regarding the matter, after stumbling upon our affectionate display."
She'd scrambled into the carriage when he offered his hand, face bright red.
The way his mouth had…
Caroline made a low noise of frustration. Her cheeks felt hot from the memory, and the unfamiliar ache low in her belly was one she'd struggled to explain since that kiss. She'd gleaned a few basics, knew what she felt was her body's reaction to that kiss, but she hadn't known you could crave someone's mouth. That a girl could dream of hands and lips, to let the heat of one memory wash over the horror of another.
That you could wake sweaty and tangled in the sheets, skin burning instead of clammy from fear.
But she seemed to be completely alone in her wants. She'd been married less than three days and already bored her husband. The rushed ceremony before the bishop, the mix of emotions she'd been unable to read in his eyes, she'd hoped for at least some form of affection.
Caroline had never been a romantic, a childhood spent caring for an ailing mother at her father's lonely country estate had taught her to be resilient. She'd have never thought she'd need that strength, the daughter of a wealthy but miserly merchant.
Then her mother had died and not a full year into mourning, her father had informed her of her marriage. She'd protested, but her words had fallen on deaf ears. It was done, and Caroline had been resigned to her future. The Lockwoods were a old family, and her fate could have been far worse. Tyler was at least only a few years older than her, and comely.
She'd cried, as her carriage pulled away from her childhood home. She'd done her best to hide the tears from her maid, her only companion for the trip. Caroline had begged her father to join her and had been rebuffed.
Then everything had gone horribly wrong and Caroline's world had changed in an instant.
Her hands shook, as she struggled to free the man still pinned beneath part of the carriage. Her hands hurt from clawing her way out of it and her side ached fiercely, but he couldn't remain so close to the wreck. Breath jagged in her throat, she finally managed to shift him enough that he wasn't in danger of being crushed if the carriage suddenly collapsed.
Glancing down, she froze as she took in the unexpectedly handsome lines of his bruised face. He had unusually unkempt curls, clothing that was of good quality, and cheeks darkened by a day's growth of stubble. It was the closest Caroline had ever been to a man who wasn't a relation. Her heart leapt into her throat when his lashes parted, eyes blue and unfocused, and she scrambled away in shock.
Caroline shook off the thread of memory, studied the palms of her hands. The dirt and grime were gone, the only reminders of the terrible accident the bruises along her legs and back, the cuts along her palms that had scabbed over. They no longer required the gauze or healing salve that had been provided, but the terror of it caught her at the oddest times.
It had been what had jolted her so violently from sleep that night. The scream of the horses, the violent crunch of wood and iron as the world had tumbled. Her maid and driver had been seriously injured, and the heavy scent of iron still lingered in her dreams
Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she turned back to her bed, determined to at least lay quietly until dawn. Instead, she froze at the sight of Klaus leaning against her doorway. He was dressed in a loose shirt and soft breeches, eyes glittering with a familiar temper.
"Why are you not sleeping?"
Her spine snapped straight, even as her fingers tugged her wrap tighter against her body. Caroline felt herself blush, as his eyes raked down her modest nightgown, but it wasn't just embarrassment that colored her cheeks red.
"Did I wake you?" Caroline asked coolly. "I apologize."
His jaw shifted, and Klaus strode forward. The lines of his body, the angle of his eyes were difficult to read in the muted light. It wasn't fear that left her pulse thundering, but awareness. Her husband had been an unexpected assault on her senses from the moment she'd dragged him out of the ruins of his carriage. It wasn't enough that he was unfairly beautiful, but the scent of his, the barely restrained energy left her skin prickling when he stood this close.
Caroline had been closer to him, the night they'd been forced to crowd into a single room while their servants' injuries were attended. The fallacy that they were married had left her mute with shock when Klaus had said it, exhaustion and her own injuries leaving her off balance.
"You cannot be serious," Caroline hissed lowly as the door shut. Her back and head hurt, but it was her her hands that burned. She was worried sick about April, and while she was sure the man who had introduced himself as Mr. Mikaelson's valet was fully capable of ensuring her maid was cared for, this arrangement just wouldn't do.
Mr. Mikaelson arched both brows as he unknotted the ruined mess of his cravat, shucking his jacket as well. Her eyes darted away, shyness and unease leaving her cheeks pink. He made an amused sound and Caroline locked her teeth to hold her tongue.
"Of course I'm certain," Mr. Mikaelson returned easily, seemingly unconcerned by the lies he'd spoken out front. "The Inn is small, sweetheart, and you do wish to maintain your reputation, do you not? In the morning, we shall head to a village a ways north of here. The bishop is a friend, and he can make arrangements to see you back to your family safely."
"Betrothed," Caroline murmured, exhaustion roughening her voice as she sat slowly. She missed the way his eyes sharpened, her own closing for a moment. "I'm supposed to be joining my betrothed. I should be with April."
A rough, irritated noise and Mr. Mikaelson was suddenly crouched in front of her. Wordlessly, he lifted her hand and studied her bloody palms. "So stubborn. Where else are you hurt?"
She bit the tip of her tongue, to keep from saying words she might regret. The argument at the wreck still rang in her ears, his temper at her refusal to leave her maid. She was still furious about how he'd simply manhandled her away from the road, his man carefully following with April in his arms.
"I'm unsure about the sincerity of your concern," Caroline told him frostily. "I believe you called me a viper by the road."
His mouth curled, and the sudden appearance of dimples left her pulse jolting. "Perhaps I could have been more gentlemanly in my choice of words towards you, but as I explained earlier, it is difficult to secure rooms once true night has fallen. Since neither of us wish to compromise your reputation, we must make do. The Innkeeper and his wife have not seen you, but if the doctor is required, it is best we have him take a look now. Better to not give him a reason to remember your face, as lovely as it is."
She set her jaw and met his eyes. "I'm fine."
Those eyes flashed, blue darkening, but strangely she didn't feel fear. His hands remained careful where they touched her. "You were in a carriage accident."
"So were you," Caroline said primly, chin tilted stubbornly. "If you require the doctor, please, do not let me stop you. A little water and some clean cloth and I can attend myself."
A twitch in his jaw, and something shifted behind his eyes, but he stood. "Stubborn woman. I will return, do not move from that position."
Fingertips brushed beneath her eyes and she jolted back to awareness. Gaze snapping to Klaus' as he stared at her, iron in his eyes. She opened her mouth to ask him to leave, when he caught her loose hand. A rough noise rumbled in his chest, and his teeth flashed as he gripped her fingers.
"You're freezing."
Tempted to be impolite, she gasped as he shifted his weight, hands carefully tugging her along with him. She sputtered as he continued through the connecting door and into his bedchamber. It smelled like him, and Caroline was helpless to stop the way she savored the first lungful of his scent.
Klaus didn't seem to notice, settling her on a low chair before moving to attend the banked coals. In a moment, the fire was bright and crackling. The sudden heat in her veins had little to do with the flames, stomach unexpectedly tight from watching the line of his shoulders move.
"You should tell your maid to add more wood if you're cold at night," Klaus said as he shifted to face her, gaze sharp. There was no good way to tell him the chill hadn't bothered her, that she was unused to such tiny luxuries as heat.
But she'd learned a bit about her new husband's mercurial moods over the past few days, knew it would simply anger him. Instead, she tucked her bare feet together beneath her skirts and kept her posture carefully straight. "I am fine."
His jaw was rigid. "The doctor said you had heavy bruising."
Caroline's gaze darted to his, her surprise clear on her face. "When did you speak to the doctor?"
His smile was tight, and her pulse hammered in her throat. "He left me a note, per my request."
She didn't understand the edge of bitterness in his voice. Brows coming together, she allowed herself to relax a hair, studying the harshness of his features. "I would have told you, had you asked. My back and side are bruised, but nothing life threatening. As I said the night of the accident."
"You were stiff, the next morning," he ground out. "I remember that much."
Caroline forced down another blush, skin prickling with embarrassment. She'd woken that morning tucked partly beneath Klaus, bruises aching. Embarrassment and outrage had driven her from the bed. If she'd known that it'd be the last real rest she'd have, she might have lingered beneath the lean heat of him.
"You're heavy," she snapped back, tongue loosened from her exhaustion and temper. He blinked and she knew her face was bright red at his impudence and her indignation, but she'd never learned to hold her tongue when riled. "Did you imagine it was easy pulling you from the wreckage? Of course I was sore the day after. Is that why you've been avoiding me? Never mind. If that was all you required, I'm going to return to my chamber."
She stood, nearly tripped over her gown when Klaus lunged to his feet. He caught her, hands careful as he tugged her upright. Her fingers gripped his shirt and she froze, breath catching in her throat. This was the closest she'd been to him since they'd been married and her eyes lifted slowly to his face.
"I haven't been avoiding you."
Her grip tightened at the rumble in his voice, but she hadn't figured out how to back down to this man. He scraped against her nerves and left them raw, and the memory of his mouth left her over warm. She didn't understand her body's reaction to his presence, and she was embarrassed by how easily he ruined her composure. But in the silent carriage ride to his estate after their quick ceremony, she'd realized how much better this clashing of tempers was than the polite union to Mr. Lockwood that had been in front of her.
"You most certainly are," Caroline corrected. She bit her lip for a fleeting second, the old habit giving away her nerves. "I know you had no wish to be married…"
A harsh sound and he stepped away from her, taking his hand through his curls. "My absence was no reflection on you, Caroline."
Her name on his tongue startled her. Klaus faced her, and the heat in his eyes left her mouth dry. "I'm sure you heard plenty about my reputation from Mrs. Salvatore. If I'd known she was visiting, we'd have gone to Gretna Green."
There was something tight in his voice, an old rage. She wondered if it had to do with why Mrs. Salvatore had been so delighted by the opportunity to fill Caroline in on all her future husband's gossip. It hadn't surprised her that Klaus had been considered a bit of a rake, with a preference for lonely widows in no need of a husband or heir. Her stomach had gone queasy, at the sheer list of supposed partners, but it had been that last curling smirk, that last sentence as Caroline's hair had been patted into place.
"I suppose at least the sheer enormity of his wealth should make his status as a bastard more palatable. He'll never inherit, but your Mr. Mikaelson has the devil's own luck. Fitting, that he found himself a pretty merchant's daughter. I imagine you'll fit well together."
Caroline had despised the spite in the Mrs. Salvatore's voice, had been determined to ignore the maliciousness. Klaus couldn't help his parentage and her early life had taught her that neither money nor status could defend from loneliness. She hadn't spent time in the vicious circles of the Elite, and had she married Tyler, she couldn't have hoped for more than motherhood.
But the bishop had been welcoming, a certain resignation in his eyes when he'd performed the ceremony that Caroline hadn't understood. Mrs. Salvatore had been a witness, as had the bishop's quiet spoken wife. Klaus had told her the bishop owed him a favor, hadn't been likely to turn down his request to marry them.
"You're angry."
Posture perfectly straight, she kept her eyes on the scenery outside. "Of course I'm angry."
A considering noise, but he said was silent for a moment after. Not that Caroline expected him to explain himself. He'd been a mood since he'd woken that morning, but it hadn't been until Marcel had told him that Caroline had attended him that his temper had blackened.
"Come now, sweetheart," Mr. Mikaelson drawled. "We both know the moment you chose to stay in our room for a second night you were ruined."
"And I told you that your man handled the more personal issues."
"Marcel was quite forthcoming regarding your care," he countered lowly. "Do you care so little for your reputation?"
Marcel Gerard had been a surprise for Caroline. She'd known he was helping situate her maid and driver, but it wasn't until Mr. Mikaelson had been unresponsive that she'd realized the extent of his aid. He'd offered to find her transportation to the local clergy, offered her several notes to smooth the way.
Caroline had declined. With her driver and maid still laid up, her appearance would raise more problems than if she stayed. She'd never admit it to Mr. Mikaelson, but she'd felt horribly guilty that she hadn't noticed the extent of his injuries. He'd appeared tired when she'd scurried out from under him, teasing her lowly, but it hadn't been until she'd returned to the sleeping chamber, dressed for the day, that she'd realized he was suffering from a fever.
Years of caring for her mother had given her a fair bit of knowledge, and so she'd sent Marcel off to collect what she'd needed before attempting to ease Mr. Mikaelson's discomfort.
"While Marcel is a man of surprising talents," she murmured finally. "The care of the ill did not seem to be one of them."
It had been Marcel's restrained worry that had told Caroline she'd made the correct decision. Temperamental and rude, it was clear there was more to Mr. Mikaelson and Marcel's relationship than was readily apparent. Coupled with the careful if irritable way Mr. Mikaelson had tended her hands, Caroline did not imagine he was a complete cad.
But that did not mean she was prepared to forgive him for deciding that marriage was the only recourse to their situation anytime soon.
"Tell me, Miss Forbes, is the idea of marriage to me so unappealing? I can offer you little status, but you will find you shall lack for little."
"Do not imagine to know my reasons for wishing to avoid this sham," Caroline said softly.
"Do you see yourself in love with your betrothed, then?"
Caroline glanced over, venom poised on her tongue, but his face wasn't mocking. Curious, with something like iron behind his eyes, but he did not mock her. There was tightness to his mouth she didn't understand, but the rigid line of her shoulders eased a hair.
"No," she admitted freely. "Regardless of your thoughts on my prospects, Mr. Lockwood had done my family a kindness with his offer. Though no bans have been posted, this reflects badly on that kindness."
His eyes were impossible to read. "Regardless, Bishop Jeremy will marry us in a few hours time, Miss Forbes. I believe you'd find that even your kind Mr. Lockwood would balk once he learned the true nature of your kindness. And going forward, sweetheart, perhaps you should call me Klaus, as we will no longer be mere acquaintances."
She looked away, spine stiff. His words were curt, and she didn't know how to feel that he was correct. Thankfully, Mr. Mikaelson said nothing else until they arrived at the small church.
That silence had bothered her, as had his cryptic remark on his status. Not for the first time had Caroline wished her mother's correspondence with her friends had involved more than their discussions of their devoted prayers. The only real knowledge of Klaus' past had been from Elena Salvatore's venomous tongue. She'd seen that Klaus had expected her to know him when he'd mockingly introduced himself, and she felt overwhelmed.
Her husband had wealth. The estate he'd brought her too was well furnished, with extensive grounds and mannerly staff. But these past few days alone had been lonely and she'd no intimate friends in which to write to with the hope for information.
But it was clear to her that the derision that Klaus had spoken with when he'd mentioned maintaining her reputation had been honest. Klaus had no wish to be married, even if he'd inexplicably bullied her into it. Swallowing, Caroline shook her head. "I know I'm not what you wanted, and…"
This time he cut her off by stepping directly into her space, head dipping so his breath ghosted across her mouth. His eyes traced her lips until they parted in a breath, and his gaze lifted back to hers. "Want, sweetheart? My absence should have attested to wanting you too much. I should never have allowed myself even a taste of you."
She blinked, utterly thrown by his words and manner. "I don't understand."
Klaus reached for her braid. He spoke in low tones, as his fingers softly unwound her hair. "I knew you were trouble when you stood beside the road and argued with me, regardless of the fact that I was correct. Then there was the matter of your concern for you maid."
She shivered, as his fingers combed through the curls as they were freed, eyes uncertain as he twinned several pieces around his fingers to study in the firelight. "I couldn't have left her there!"
"As you couldn't leave me to be crushed? To suffer through my fever alone?" His eyes returned to her face and her stomach trembled at the way his gaze had gone dark and hot. "As frustrated as I am with your stubbornness, love, and I do have reasons to be grateful for it."
Caroline swallowed at the intensity of his eyes as he studied her. It was the flicker of what she wanted to call affection she did not understand. They hardly knew each other, and what little she did know did not lead her to believe that Klaus was willing to show those sorts of feelings. Just because she'd unexpectedly found herself emotionally entangled did not mean her husband felt the same.
He didn't seem perturbed by her confused silence. Instead, he tugged lightly at the ends of her hair, lips curling. "I was absent these past days, Caroline, because I had arranged to meet with your father."
Caroline stopped breathing.
"Your Mr. Lockwood accompanied him," he continued, gaze steady. "I believe we've come to a suitable arrangement."
Her breath escaped in a rush and she swallowed hard. "What does that mean?"
A flicker of a curve along his mouth. "It means your father will not oppose our marriage and the Lockwoods will not damage your reputation by spreading the tale of a broken engagement."
Bewildered, she shoved strands of her hair away from her face. "But why? You didn't wish to be married! I do not understand why you've gone to such trouble?"
"I am wealthy, but my birth, on the wrong side of the blanket, renders me unacceptable to many in society. Your marriage to Lockwood would have provided you and any children you bear with a far less precarious social status."
Caroline scowled at him. "What status do you refer to? I have no title, no fortune. I have never set foot in London, what do I know of the Ton? My father did not even arrange a sponsor so I could have a season, despite the offers from my late mother's friends."
Klaus eyes flared, temper tightening his cheekbones. But his tone was coolly precise when he spoke. "Perhaps, but your marriage to Mr. Lockwood would have been far more socially correct."
"Yes," Caroline replied just as frostily. "But I do not understand why you are concerned with this now? We are wed, an arrangement you were most insistent upon regardless of my protests. Did you imagine that I am so uneducated that I'm unaware of the additional steps that could've been taken? The Lockwoods are not so wealthy that your money and familial connections wouldn't have smoothed over the misunderstandings, regardless of Tyler Lockwoods' complaints. So why choose this avenue if it makes you so unhappy? Why act on my behalf at all?"
"I considered it," Klaus said slowly, fingers twinning in the curls he had not yet released. "I found I could not. You're very beautiful, Caroline, but it was the unexpected steel of your spine, the generosity of your heart that captivated me. Perhaps it would have been a far simpler manner to bribe your betrothed, but a careless man doesn't deserve your warmth, and Lockwood is a fool."
She bit her lip, brows tucked together. "But in the carriage… not once did you give the impression that this was something you wanted."
That he wanted her, outside of the physical attraction that even she couldn't deny. Caroline hadn't thought herself as more than an unexpected inconvenience to him, a consequence of that rough kindness he buried so well. But Marcel was loyal for a reason and Klaus taken the time to collect her flowers...
"I lied," Klaus said, as if he wasn't turning her assumptions upside down. "I've never had any use for the examples set by my parents. And a silent, disapproving wife has never appealed to me. I do not believe in fate, Caroline, but I certainly do not consider myself a fool. I've had every intention of keeping you from the moment I woke to your hands on my brow, worry in your eyes."
Temper turned her cheeks red, eyes flashing as she growled at him. "Did you not think to ask?"
His gaze narrowed, head angled with calculation. "Would you have said yes?"
Caroline opened her mouth and then closed it. Embarrassment mingled with her temper, and she clenched her hands. The girl who'd headed off into the sunset to meet her betrothed would have said no. She did not choose her marriage but she loved her father, and she would never have betrayed him in such a way.
But the woman who'd survived the wreck? Who had cared for Klaus through the night and the next morning, and who had found herself holding a wild bouquet of color he'd fetched just for her? She'd have said yes if he'd asked.
The past week had taught her much of herself, and before she'd have counted herself lucky to be bored in her marriage. But politeness and indifference no longer appealed to her. How could they, when this man had prodded and charmed, his temper a living creature beneath his skin? Caroline didn't know if they'd be happy, if two strong personalities were capable of coexisting in confined spaces, but she could no more return to the girl she'd been than she could marry Tyler.
"I don't want a polite marriage," she blurted, instead of answering his question directly. Those dark eyes never wavered, and she licked her lips nervously. "I do not wish to be a mere convenience."
"No?" Klaus murmured shifting so the edge of his nightshirt brushed against hers. His hand lifted and cupped her cheek, thumb brushing along her cheekbone. "I confess, love, I am hardly a polite man."
Pulse loud in her her ears, Caroline scraped her teeth over her lip. "I know."
"Would you have said yes, Caroline?"
Nervous, skin prickling with an awareness she couldn't explain, Caroline nodded hesitantly. "Yes."
Klaus' eyes blazed, but his touch remained gentle as his other hand lifted to cradle her hot face. "Then why the sleeplessness?"
She shifted, to pull away, but he did not let her. Frowning at his determined expression, she lowered her eyes. Caroline spoke to line of his throat, gaze focusing on the flesh usually hidden. "I find my dreams are not conducive to sleep."
"The accident?" Klaus rumbled, thumbs tracing her cheekbones. The caress was gentle, his eyes filled with concern. Her heart started to pound, as she took in the entirety of his expression, and her toes curled at the softness she found. Her words were husky when she spoke, tongue swiping across her lip.
"Not all of them."
Klaus stilled, and the sudden blooming heat in his eyes, the change in the air between them, turned her breathing shallow. His words were low, voice a rumble of sound, and her stomach clenched.
"Tell me, Caroline. This marriage you wish for, does this lack of politeness extend to the bedchamber?"
Face burning, fingers gripping her gown, Caroline shuddered out a breath. Before that kiss she'd have dreaded such a possibility, but Klaus' touch had made her burn. That slick, unexpected brush of his tongue across her lip had set off a thousand butterflies in her stomach. It certainly hadn't been polite and she wanted to do it again.
"I don't…" she fumbled with her words. "My mother… I don't know what to do."
"Ah," Klaus murmured. "That is a matter which can be remedied, sweetheart. But do you wish for it to be?"
Gathering her courage, she watched him from beneath her lashes and admitted to the thoughts that had plagued her as she lay in her cold bed. Now, in the firelight, the lean lines of him were utterly tempting. "I want to touch you."
Instead of answering, he lowered his hands and removed his nightshirt with one smooth roll of his muscle. Her stomach went hot and tight, as her eyes widened. Klaus reached for her trembling hands, pressed them against the breadth of his chest.
He was shockingly warm, and Caroline pressed the pads of her fingers reflexively against the lean muscle of him. Klaus made a low noise, and she rushed looking at his face. "This is all right?"
His lips curled into something teasing, but the glitter in his eyes threatened to drown her. "Hmmm, but you're allowed to move your hands, sweetheart."
Carefully, lip caught tightly between her teeth, Caroline decided to take him at his word. Carefully at first, and then with more confidence, she traced the lines and edges of him with her fingertips. She startled the first time he shuddered, watched fascinated as his abdomen flexed when she used the tiniest bite of her nails. He was so smooth, and the feel of him heated her blood in a way that had nothing to do with embarrassment.
But her growing fascination was stilled as she carefully traced the healing wound on his side. The skin was no longer inflamed with the infection that had caused his fever, and he didn't flinch as she carefully touched it. Caroline glanced up at him, face uncertain.
"Is this a good idea? What if this…"
He caught her hand and brought it to the heat of his mouth, lips lingering on the pounding of her pulse. "It is fine."
Caroline huffed. He smiled at her irritation. He kissed her fingertips, a unexpected brush of his tongue sending a shiver through her body.
"I'd like to touch you," Klaus rasped. His gaze dragged down her body, tongue slick against his bottom lip. "May I?"
She opened her mouth, closed it. Shyness and unease tangled in her stomach, but she nodded once. He'd allowed her to absorb him through her hands, it was only fair that she offer him the same?
Klaus took his time, unbuttoning her gown and each undone button left her trembling with awareness. When the gown slid off her shoulders to pool on the ground, she tensed. Her nipples were drawn tight, and the flush of embarrassment had colored her chest pink.
But he didn't reach for her. Eyes darting to his face, she swallowed when she discovered his gaze on hers. "Is something wrong?"
"If you do not wish me to touch you Caroline, I won't." He watched her with dark eyes, and her breath was ragged in her throat at the restraint he was not hiding. The edge in his voice was hard, and that vicious control was evident around his eyes, and in the clench of his muscles.
Caroline felt out of her depth, the few snatches of conversation she'd heard from the maids' talk suggesting this wasn't how things usually progressed. But she wanted him to touch her, and something in her chest eased at his apparent restraint.
"I liked how you kissed me," she blurted, spine straightening. "And I want you to touch me. I just don't know what to do."
He stepped forward, until the tips of her breasts almost brushed the heat of his chest. His fingers cupped the curve of her cheek, and Klaus dipped his head until his mouth grazed the edge of hers. "If I kiss you, it won't be polite."
Caroline closed the distance between them. It was an awkward press of lips, but then Klaus moved a fraction and her hands moved to grip his shoulders of their own accord. Her nails dug into his skin when his tongue slid along her lip and a low noise escaped her as her mouth opened. Klaus' chest rumbled, his hand moved to her hip and the distance between them disappeared. She shuddered at the feel of his skin against hers, arching instinctively. Her nipples moved against his skin and she whimpered as her head spun.
Klaus lifted his mouth, lips red and kiss wet. He took a small step back, so that the crackling fire painted her skin with color. Eyes lifting to hers, he reached out and gently cupped her breasts, thumbs rotating delicately over her taunt nipples. Caroline gripped his upper arms tightly, knees weak as his fingers shaped her breasts.
"You're so utterly love, Caroline," Klaus told her. "I want to paint you like this."
Her face turned scarlet, and she stared at him. Another slow brush of his thumb and she shuddered. "You paint."
His smile was dimpled. "Hmm, and you are a glorious muse. We'll work up to it."
She spluttered, but then Klaus was sinking to his knees. Caroline was breathless with a want she couldn't name, as he looked up at her. Then his hands were gentle on her hips, urging her to turn. Following his silent demand, she allowed him to turn her so her back faced the fireplace. She understood when Klaus brushed the length of her hair over her shoulder, the cool strands an unintentional caress across her breast.
His hands were gentle as he smoothed fingertips down skin that was rarely touched. She knew the bruises had started to turn green and yellow, that they were unsightly. "They do not hurt."
A rumble of a noise, and she swallowed hard.
"They are much better," she told him, her words tripping off her tongue at his continued silence. "I am fine."
"How close I came to losing you before I even had you," Klaus rasped. She went motionless at his words, her lungs frozen at the roughness in his voice. The sudden gentleness of his lips brushing between her shoulder blades left her eyes burning. She closed her eyes tightly as he slowly moved down each knot of her spine, kisses lingering. Her throat closed with emotion, even as her skin prickled with awareness. She shuddered at the wet brush of his tongue just above the curve of her backside.
"You are certain?" Klaus demanded, voice taunt.
"Yes."
"Then we should move this to the bed."
"The bed," Caroline repeated, blinking at him as he stood and moved around her. Klaus grinned, a quick flash of dimples, and lifted her against him. She gasped as he easily deposited her, and his hands encouraged her until she reclined on his pillows. Settled, she swallowed hard at the way he looked at her.
Klaus looked hungry.
"You will tell me if you do not like something," he ordered firmly as he followed her onto the bed. She nodded, breathless as he loomed over her. Caroline did not expect him to suck her nipple into his mouth, the hot lave of his tongue arching through her. Her hands fisted in the bedding, spine bowing under the exquisite sensation. He hummed around her breast, and one hand came up to toy with the other, carefully rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
"Klaus," she gasped as he released her breast, shuddering at the scrape of his beard. His eyes shifted to her face, and the harsh lines of arousal left her inhaling sharply. "I'm not doing anything."
Klaus thumbed her nipple, eyes locked onto her face. "No? I disagree. The noises you make as I touch you, the way you feel? I assure you, Caroline, you are doing much to arouse me."
"But I want to touch too," she murmured.
Klaus shuddered, eyes sliding shut for a moment. When they opened, they were glimmering with heat. Gaze holding hers, he pressed his lips against her quivering abdomen. "I wouldn't last. The moment you put your hands on me, I'm certain I would lose control. For now, sweetheart, what I desire is to concentrate on you."
Brows coming together, she opened her mouth to protest, but Klaus was suddenly pressed hotly against her front and his mouth caught hers. Her lips parted on a gasp when he slotted his thigh between hers, but was soon distracted by the slow seduction of Klaus' mouth. The slight sting of teeth, the slick feel of his tongue were made so much better when her mouth parted beneath his.
She tangled her fingers in his hair, lost herself in his mouth until the unexpected sensation of his fingers on her breast had her jolting, hips rolling against his thigh. She tore her mouth away with a cry, shuddering through the unexpected sensation.
In response, his thigh rocked against her and Caroline whimpered. Klaus smiled, repeating the motion while kissing slowing down her chin. "It's better if you move as well, sweetheart."
It took her a moment to understand his words as his lips moved along her throat in a delicious distraction. Then her hands tightened in his hair, at the scandalous suggestion. His gaze flickered to her face, and his smile was wicked and coaxing.
"Trust me."
Shuddering at another rough stroke of his body against hers, Caroline experimentally rocked. Klaus hummed a note of approval, scraped his teeth down her throat while his fingers continued to carefully tease her breast. She started to pant and her shyness disappeared, at each rough movement of her hips.
A hot, sucking kiss at her throat and Klaus shifted. Caroline complained, body burning for things she couldn't explain, and he licked his lips. She could feel the stubble burn on her throat, and her breasts ached. She was spread open and wet, body flushed and Caroline could feel where she'd begun to sweat.
Klaus looked at her as if she was beautiful, as if he wanted so much more if her.
"I want to touch you."
Trying to clear the haze of her brain, she blinked at him uncertainly. "You aren't touching me now?"
The slow greed of his smile speared through her. "You're very wet, love, but I'm sure you've been told to expect your first to be painful? I'm no bumbling boy, to leave you unsatisfied, and there are ways to reduce the discomfort, but you will need to trust me."
"All right," she murmured. She raked her teeth over her lip. "Will it hurt?"
"No," Klaus assured her, hand sliding to her abdomen. "But you will tell me if you are uncomfortable in anyway."
She'd barely had time to do more than acknowledge his words and nod, then his hand was sliding far lower than she'd ever imagined. His eyes never left hers as he brushed softly against her most intimate of places, the low appreciative groan sending another flare of heat through her. Then his fingers were brushing where she'd rocked against him, and her spine ached without her permission, toes digging into the bedding.
Klaus said something in that low, rich tone of his but she struggled to understand him over the thundering of her heartbeat in her ears. Her eyes flew open at the sensation of a finger slipping inside her, his thumb continuing its madness.
"Klaus," she gasped, body clenching down as her hips rocked against him. Trembling, her hands fisted in the sheets, she cried out as a second finger slowly joined the first.
Klaus shuddered between her thighs, eyes nearly black with desire as he watched his fingers slowly slide in and out of her clenching body. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, body straining for something she did not understand. Caroline nearly sobbed in complaint when he pulled his fingers free. Her whine died in her throat as he brought his glistening hand to his mouth, and licked.
She stared at him with wide, desperate eyes.
"I want a better taste," Klaus breathed, voice a growl.
"But…" Caroline started, voice high in surprise. A wicked curve of his lips and that glorious tongue was suddenly pressed where his thumb had been. Her brain went perfectly blank. Another slow lick, and her hips jolted, and his hands held her still.
"I can stop," he told her, tongue tracing his wet lip. "Do you want me to stop?"
Chest heaving, she stared down at him. "This… this is what people do?"
"Hmmm," he rumbled. Gaze turning greedy in a way left her overheated body molten, he smiled at her, dimples sinful. "Did you still want to touch?"
Caroline nodded slowly, captivated by the way his apparent desire for her. The way his lips caught the light, wet with her. It was shocking and arousing, and she hadn't known it was possible to feel like this. That you would talk, that you could be so enraptured by another person.
"Touch your breasts for me."
Her lips parted in surprise, and Caroline stared at him with wide eyes. "Touch my…"
"I want you to cup your breasts, pinch your nipples." He lowered his lashes, so only a hint of blue showed. "Do what feels good."
Uncertain, but finding she wanted to see the same pleasure on his face that he was making her feel, Caroline studied his face. "You would enjoy that?"
Klaus held her gaze without shame. "Very much so."
Caroline was certain that this was a sin. But until a few moments ago, the idea of Klaus' mouth near her hips would have shocked her as well. She squirmed, body growing slicker at the reminder of his tongue, and she slowly lifted her palms. Curving her fingers around her breasts, the way she recalled him touching her, she squeezed carefully beneath Klaus' enraptured gaze.
"Like this?" She managed, lashes fluttering.
"Touch your nipples," he breathed. She did as he asked and gasped, tugging at touch harder when his throat moved with the harshness of his swallow. Watching him enjoy her like this left her desperate, and each sensation went straight to her belly.
He rewarded her soft moan by dipping his head and returning his tongue to where she was dripping. It was madness, his mouth and each movement of her hands. Then those long fingers slowly pressed back inside her, and the high pitched keen wouldn't embarrassed her if she hadn't been riding the edge of something.
Something hot was coiled low in her abdomen, and the tighter it wound, the less control she had. Her hands fell away, as her hips rocked mindlessly, breathing harsh as sweat dripped along her skin. An unexpectedly harsh pull from Klaus mouth, and she found herself wailing through a wave of bliss. It rushed through her in a wave, locking her trembling body into place until it finally released her. Staring up at the ceiling as she slowly regained her senses, Caroline blinked at Klaus as settled between her thighs.
He'd removed his pants.
"I need you," he rasped before he pressed pressed his mouth, hot and demanding, against hers. He tasted salty and she shuddered, as she realized what flavored his tongue. She clenched down ona new wave of heat, and the tip of his erection pushed against her.
A movement of his hips, and she shuddered as he filled her, muscles stretching almost painfully at the new sensation. Klaus pinched her nipple, pressed frantic kisses down her chin and her body clenched at the stimulation. His teeth caught her skin in a bite but and she jolted, nails digging into the muscles of his back.
"Caroline."
She tried to grip the slick muscles of his back. Each breath reminded her of the fullness of him inside her, and she gasped out her plea. "Please, I need…"
He shifted, and thrust slowly, muscles iron beneath his skin. Whimpering, legs curling around his waist, Caroline dug in with her nails. "More. I want more."
This time, she welcomed the tightening in her belly. Where his mouth and her hands had left her reeling, this was better. Klaus was hot and lean between her thighs, pressed along her stomach and chest, mouth a brand on her throat. She couldn't help her cries, as he ground down, body burning up. A shudder, and Klaus shifted a hand between them, brushing against that delicious point on her body, and her world broke open.
Klaus groaned her name, body trembling as violently as her own before as he followed her over that edge. They laid there for several moments, breathing harsh. Klaus finally lifted his head and Caroline carefully,brought shaking fingertips to the line of his jaw. For a moment, they just stared at each other.
"I liked it," Caroline told him decisively.
Dimples and sin, he smiled at her. "Good. It gets better."
She blinkers d he took that opportunity to shift away from her. Instead of abandoning her, she found herself tucked against him beneath the bedclothes a moment later. When she finally found her voice, it was high. "Better?"
Fingers trailing along her nape in a gentle but possessive hold. "Hmmm, yes. Trust me."
She did. The heat of his body, and the sated feeling in her bones left her drowsy. Klaus didn't seem to mind, smoothing her hair. "Now what?"
"You stay here, with me," Klaus said softly. "In the morning, we will talk about everything else."
Her lashes were heavy, and the soothing sounds of Klaus' heartbeat were distracting. "Such as?"
A soft rumble of a laugh, and Caroline fell asleep to Klaus telling her of the places he'd take her, if she wished.
That night, she didn't dream.
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