Notes: klarolinesmutmas fic numero 2!
Waxing and Waning
(Prompt from an Anon: 1) klaroline doing 69. (2) klaus taking her doggy style. i mean, he's part wolf right? rough, animalistic, plenty of grunting and hair pulling. Smut.)
Caroline shakes herself, and tears her gaze away from the window. The moon's rising and it reminds her that she's alone. She's in the kitchen, seriously considering Hot Pockets for dinner (because Klaus wasn't there to be a horrified snob about them, and really, it's not like artificial colors and flavors were going to kill her) when she hears him come in.
She's surprised, not having expected Klaus home until later. He'd had taken Kol out with him, not two hours before, to deal with an upstart coven of witches.
Caroline curses the day she'd met Dasha and Bogdan Sirko in the lobby of the hotel she and Klaus had stayed at in Kiev. Klaus had had the nerve to laugh, when they'd popped up in New Orleans, word coming from various informants that the siblings had been sniffing around for allies, hoping to make a name for themselves by tangling with The Original family.
Klaus had made an attempt at containing his amusement, under Caroline's unimpressed look. "And just what," she'd asked, "is so hilarious?"
He'd blinked up at her innocently, from the sofa he reclined on while Caroline paced, "Nothing, love. Just glad to know your penchant for finding trouble remains."
Caroline had been sorely tempted to kick him. But she'd been barefoot, and would probably have just broken her toes on his stupid, indestructible, Original Hybrid, shin.
It was far from the first time such a thing had happened, and it wouldn't be the last. Caroline had stopped counting, after the sixth attempt on Klaus' life. No one had yet to even come close to succeeding, and those who tried were dealt with swiftly and brutally. Caroline would have thought people would get smarter, learn from their mistakes, but it just never happened.
She's always a little anxious, when a threat pops up, as minimal as Klaus always insists they are. The fact that he'd gone off with only Kol, had not bothered to call Elijah or Rebekah to New Orleans, had soothed her somewhat. But still, she'd paced, watched the clock, been unable to concentrate on simple tasks, such as cooking.
She hadn't even been hungry, just desperate for a distraction.
Klaus returning home was the best possible one.
Caroline speeds out of the kitchen, and only the agility she'd gained when she became a vampire keeps her from wiping out, when her socks slip against the highly polished hardwood of the foyer when skids to a stop in front of Klaus.
His lips quirk up in amusement, and Caroline is briefly embarrassed by what she's wearing (his Henley, boyshorts and fluffy socks) before she spots the blood, the pool on his shirt particularly alarming. She immediately reaches out to him, patting down his chest and shoulders, instinctively checking for injuries, before wrapping herself around him, reassured by his smell, the solid strength of his frame.
He ruins her clothes all the time. He'll just deal with it, if his shirt gets bloody.
Caroline feels Klaus' chuckle vibrate through where they're pressed together, the low rumble of it soothing the last of her frayed nerves, as his hands pull her more firmly into him.
She pulls back enough to look at him, slipping her hands under his shirt, "What happened to our deal? You're supposed to text me and let me know you're fine ASAP, remember?"
He presses his forehead to hers affectionately, his fingers toying with the edge of the Henley she wears, ticking the backs of her thighs, "I'm afraid my phone was a casualty of the battle, sweetheart. Kol's too."
"Stupid witches," Caroline grouses, fingers digging into his skin.
"I did kill them," Klaus tells her mildly.
She knows. And she's not exactly happy about it, but she'd long since come to terms with her shades of gray. She didn't kill for fun, but she'd do it in a heartbeat to protect what was hers, had no qualms with Klaus doing the same.
She takes a deep breath, lets the last of her worry melt away. For now, at least. She's totally gonna need a play by play later, going to have to find out if there's any loose ends to tie up. She brushes a fleeting kiss across his lips, before she steps back, tangling their hands together, and towing Klaus out of the entryway. "Let's get you cleaned up," she says absently.
His grip tightens, as he lets himself be led, "That sounds promising," he remarks teasingly, pressing himself against her back as she turns to mount the stairs. She can feel the tension in his limbs, his cock hard and rubbing up against her ass.
Right, full moon. Their usual routine (lots and lots of hot hybrid-vampire sex!) had been unfortunately interrupted by this witch business. Klaus, it seemed, was more than willing to get back on track.
And Caroline was totally cool with that plan.
She shivers, and grinds back deliberately, Klaus' hands dropping to her hips to encouraging her movement.
Caroline's pulse picks up when his fingers dance under her clothing, raking up her stomach and grasping a breast. Her nipples have been hard since she'd first touched him, and she lets out a gasp when he pinches one, her head falling back on his shoulder.
They're so not making it to the bathroom.
Confirming her suspicions, his hand leaves her, turning to fist in the fabric that covers her from his gaze, ripping it clean off and letting it fall to the floor. "I liked that shirt," Caroline complains, even as her hand reaches back to fist in his hair. "It smelled like you."
Klaus presses his nose to the nape of her neck, inhales appreciatively, "Help yourself to another, love. I do love it when you're covered in my scent."
She knows. It was kind of a thing of his, in the week leading up to the full moon. He came on her, as much as he came in her. Would often sit back after he'd pulled out of her, his release sticky on her thighs, and play with her clit, his fingers soaked in their cum, eyes intent on her face as she fell apart for him again and again.
She shudders, the image having her thighs clenching together involuntarily, an ache building between them. Klaus breathes in again, the noise he lets out upon exhaling satisfied and content, even as his foot nudges her legs apart, a hand tracing the band of her panties, "Nearly as much as I love the way you smell when you're dripping for me," he mutters.
Her underwear's gone, in the next second, but Caroline can't bring herself to care when he's parting her folds and circling her clit, the movements practiced and purposeful. Her nails bite into his skin, and she feels the edge of his fangs against her shoulder. Her hips move without her permission, chasing his touch, her clit throbbing and her body greedy for more.
He's rocking against her hard, his cock still trapped in his jeans, breathing harshly.
God, she loves the full moon. Klaus gets rough, and impatient, in the best kinds of ways. He pulls orgasm after orgasm from her, makes her beg but never makes her wait (unlike other times, where he likes to draw it out, have her writhing on his tongue until she feels like she can't take anymore, like she'll lose her mind if he's not inside her).
He sinks two long fingers inside of her, curling them just right, and Caroline goes up on her toes, letting out a whine at the delicious stretch. "More," she demands, "I need it. Please." She drags his free hand back to her breast, leaving hers over it to encourage him to touch her.
His hands work diligently, one thrusting in and out of her at a pace that has her climbing quickly, his lazy pulls on her nipple a maddening counterpoint.
She comes unexpectedly with a shout, waves of pleasure washing over her, when the heel of his hand presses hard against her clit. He stays with her, murmuring praise and encouragements into her ear, his fingers inside of her working her through, and then back up again rapidly. She can feel his other hand brushing over her back, fumbling with his clothes, and seams rip loudly, before Klaus' skin is pressed to hers.
She leans more heavily on him with a sigh, turning her head to nuzzle into his throat.
He wraps a fist in her hair and she lets out a moan as in sends a new, delicious spasm through her. Klaus uses his grip to pull tip her head up, to take her mouth in a heated, demanding kiss, teeth nipping at her lower lip, before licking the sting away.
Her knees feel shaky, and Caroline lets herself slump forward, her knees coming to rest on the stairs, hands a few treads higher. Klaus follows her down, his cock hot against her bare skin, nudging between her thighs. He pulls at her hair again, and a soft laugh comes from Caroline, eyes falling shut to savor the groan he makes, as she moves her knees further apart, her spine bowing to his demand, her ass raising high in the air. She rolls her hips invitingly, feeling the length of his cock slide up her slit, "Just fuck me, Klaus."
Then his hand is firm on her belly, tilting her hips up even further, and he pushes into her with one hard thrust, his hips slamming into her. "Yes," Caroline moans, and Klaus' answering grunt is muffled against her back. He gives her no time to adjust, pulling out and slamming back into her. The angle's perfect, he rubs the spot inside of her just right with every entry, and she's not going to last long. Propping herself up on one arm, she drags a hand down her belly, intent of getting off as fast as possible, then hopefully getting off again.
Klaus lets out a growl, batting her hand away. "Mine," he murmurs, voice rough and hazy with want, "You're going to come on my cock, Caroline." His grip on her hair tightens, and his lips press against her shoulder. "With my teeth in your throat, and my name on your lips, love. Over and over again."
She finds herself nodding, knows she would agree to anything, if he just kept going.
The burning tension inside of her snaps, when he bites her, the ecstatic noise he makes as he drinks sending another thrum of pleasure to her core. He shakes against her back, his release hot inside of her, taking greedy pulls of her blood.
She's just begun to feel the cool sting of his bite, when he moves them, her limbs loose and pliant. He sits down on a stair, spreading her thighs across his lap. He guides her mouth to his throat, his head tipping back, a clear invitation for her bite. His hand returns to her hair, soothing now, as she pierces his skin.
Klaus lets out a soft moan, pressing up into her. Caroline rubs herself against his stomach as she drinks. The taste of him, has new flutters arousal stirring, and the barest hint of friction against her clit has her whimpering.
Caroline's head lifts, her eyes meeting Klaus'. He leans in to lick the blood from her lips, before he bends her backward, tongue tracing a droplet down her body. Caroline vaguely remembers something about a shower, but it seems unimportant, when he sucks her nipple into his mouth.
They don't leave the stairs for hours.
Caroline's awoken by a pesky beam of light, too close to her eyes. She grumbles rolling away from it and into Klaus. He shifts against her, rolling onto his back as she hides her face in the hollow of his shoulder.
It had taken years, for him to adjust, and not wake up with her every movement. Even now, should someone else approach their room, Klaus would be instantly alert, the intruder's neck snapped (it had happened to Kol, once or twice, when he attempted to drink all the Hurricanes in New Orleans, and got turned around).
Caroline tries to drift back into sleep, but finds it elusive.
Ugh, mornings.
They'd never been her favorite, and at over eighty years old, she's resigned to the fact that they probably never would be. Letting out a sigh, she runs her hands down Klaus' chest, enjoying the feel of his sleep warmed skin. Cracking her eyes open and glancing down, to where the single sheet barely covers his half hard cock, Caroline feels a grin stretch her face.
She supposed there were worst ways to wake up.
She lets a fingertip trace the hollow below his hipbone, relishes the little hitch in his even breaths as his body reacts to her touch.
If they were human, neither of them would be able to move, after last night. Yet another reason why Caroline loved being a vampire.
She always had, with the possible exception of those first terrifying hours, when she'd had no idea what was happening to her, why it was happening to her.
She was good at it, born for it, Klaus often said. She'd loved the strength, the speed, the power, from the second she'd tossed Damon Salvatore away from her like he was nothing.
Caroline had come to terms with the things she'd be giving up, grown used to the idea that she'd have to mourn people she loved. Knew in her bones that it was worth it, that she wanted eternity. To see and do and explore farther and wider than a measly 85 years (give or take) would have allowed her to.
Newly turned at seventeen the top perk, in Caroline's opinion, had been skipping the hormonal rollercoaster that women were cursed women to endure. Suffering backaches, breakouts, cramps, achy boobs, all consuming rage and an insatiable need for chocolate, in an ever repeating loop, was something Caroline was more than happy to give up.
She'd almost forgotten what it was like, to be a slave to a monthly cycle.
Until she'd moved in with Klaus.
This routine was far more pleasant. Wild full moon sex was great, slow and sensual the morning after, just as good. She looked forward to it, every month, once she'd realized the cause. Felt kind of like an idiot, that she hadn't noted it right away.
To be fair, it had taken a long while, though not quite a century, for them to get to the point where she'd have things to notice and connect the dots. Casual run ins (Caroline had always suspected that they were less random than Klaus would like her to believe) turned into occasional drinks, and then evenings out that she thought of as actual dates. And there was more than that. Something like friendship, the kind where they were comfortable in silence. Postcards (that Caroline kept), emails (that she usually read with a smile) birthday gifts, drunk dials, weekends (okay, sometimes just weeks) falling into bed together and rediscovering the chemistry that had always burned between them.
The gaps between encounters grew shorter and shorter. First a decade, than a few years. Eventually, she'd felt something missing, when more than a week passed without some kind of contact with Klaus.
That had been a hell of a realization.
She'd stewed in it, avoided Klaus, lest his freaky perceptiveness pick up on a waiver in her voice, and have his Caroline senses tingling. He'd be at her door, as fast as modern technology (and ridiculous sums of money, and liberal compulsion) could get him, if he suspected something was wrong. He'd never pushed, in the 62 years they'd been doing their dance. But he'd never let her forget that he wanted her. All of her.
The fact that she wanted him too, was ready for him, was scary and exhilarating and definitely required a few days of contemplation. And planning, obviously.
Caroline had put things in motion, sneakily bought a house, in New Orleans, the city Klaus used as a home base, and orchestrated her own, 'Golly gee, isn't it a small world?' meet up.
The way his eyes had lit up, the smile she thought of as hers, crawling across his face, was the final piece Caroline had needed, to know that the thing between them, big and complicated and forever, was right.
Not that she'd made things easy on him.
But Klaus had easily picked up on the shift in her, on the way she no longer hid the more tender feelings she harbored. It had been what he was waiting for. And, having been given an opening, he set out to win.
Winning was something Klaus excelled at, something he rarely failed to do.
To the surprise of no one, who truly knew either of them, Caroline's cute little two bedroom had been on the market less than a year later, and she'd redecorated his bedroom to make it their bedroom. A little (okay, a lot) of compromise had been required. Klaus' preferred color palette reminded Caroline of a retro brothel and a little natural light never killed a vampire with a functional daylight ring now, did it?
They'd kept his bed frame, after much arguing. It was a little heavy and dark, for Caroline's tastes. But Klaus had been more than happy to demonstrate the sturdy post's advantages. And, once she'd insisted that turnabout was fair play, and had her own fun, she'd relented.
Her favorite compromise ever. Hands down.
A new mattress, and exorbitantly expensive, cloud-soft sheets had been a must, however. Caroline had not exactly been celibate, in the interludes between her and Klaus' meetings, and she'd had no expectation of fidelity from him, when things between them were undefined. She didn't care who he'd slept with before her, but she wanted no hint of them in their shared space, now that they were giving last love a go.
Klaus had been smugly satisfied with her jealousy. He'd never complained less, on any shopping trip she'd dragged him along on, before or since.
That should have been her first clue, that being with Klaus wasn't going to be quite like any other relationship Caroline had ever had.
It had taken a few months, before she'd picked up on it. On the rhythms he lived by. She'd been puzzled, at first, by subtle differences in his mood, in certain behaviors.
Not at all bothered by them, however.
He's driving her crazy. Her body's burning, muscles pulled tight. Her fingers are ripping at the plush carpet beneath her, head hung low as she strains against Klaus' hold on her hips, and she's glad that vampire healing will take care of the burn on her knees before tomorrow.
It was rarely pants weather, in New Orleans.
She has no idea how long she's been like this, on her knees and forearms, in their living room, Klaus driving into her from behind, his fingers just ghosting over her clit. Every brush felt incredible leaving her trembling, but Klaus kept the edge she was straining for just out of her reach.
He groans when she clenches tight around him, but resists her attempts to speed up, to change the angle, to get just a little more of him.
Ragged moans spill from Caroline's lips, and she manages his name, "Klaus," drawn out and pleading.
He tugs her hair, scraping his teeth down her spine. Caroline arches into the rough caress, the hint of pain lighting up her skin. Her head lifts, eyes opening to catch sight of the moon, bright and full, as Klaus rasps, "Tell me what you want, love. Maybe I'll give it to you," against her back.
She's too far gone to protest, to make a coherent plea. Hoarse and desperate she does as he'd asks, begs for Klaus to touch her, to bite her, to make her come.
He makes a noise, barely recognizable as human, his fingers pinching and rolling her clit as he sinks his fangs into her neck. She shatters, with a scream, her knees giving out and only his hands, gripping her hips and pulling her back onto his cock as he chases his own finish, keeps her from collapsing.
He lets go with a moan, leaning heavily against her, shoving his wrist in front of Caroline's mouth and urging her to drink. Klaus buries his face in her hair, as she takes his blood, breathing deep and holding her close, until their shudders subside.
And all the while, Caroline has an excellent view of the night sky.
And then it clicks.
Klaus wasn't the first man she'd been with who was part werewolf. And while she was probably one of a very few vampires in existence who could claim such a thing, there were major differences between what she'd had with Tyler, and what she had now.
Caroline wasn't seventeen anymore, and she and Klaus didn't have mom's or curfews or homework and extracurriculars to worry about.
Living together was intimate. She'd discovered quirks and habits of Klaus' she'd never have imagined (and not all of them endearing, but Caroline recognized that some of hers likely weren't either).
She'd begun to pay attention, might have made some notes, and picked out little things that before she'd just chalked up to Klaus' general dislike for predictability and impulse control.
There were distinct patterns. In the things he wanted to eat, how much blood he needed. The amount of time he spent painting vs. the amount of time he spent on more physical activities. How often he wanted her, the positions he preferred. Definitive trends popped up. And they seemed to line up to the phases of the moon.
Caroline would be lying if she said the realization didn't result in a teeny bit of amusement, the idea that Klaus, 1000 years old, and feared the world over, was subject to the pull of the moon, in much the same way as hormonal teenage girls were.
She'd never say it out loud. Klaus' ability to be self-deprecating had its limits, even with her.
Besides, she was more than happy to enjoy the sexual perks of his werewolf nature's monthly fluctuations.
With that thought in mind, Caroline leans over him, runs her nose along his throat, presses a lingering kiss just below where his stubble begins. Klaus lets out a pleased hum, his hand twitching against her back. Caroline keeps moving down, tastes his skin as she goes. He jolts when she bites down playfully in his nipple, his eyes popping open to send her a glare.
"Morning!" Caroline chirps, unrepentant, moving her lips leisurely down the flat planes of his abdomen. She stops, just above the line of the sheet. She ignores the annoyed set of Klaus' face and sits up, throwing the cotton aside and kneeling between his legs.
She loves Klaus, has come to accept all versions of him, as he's always done for her. She'd be hard pressed to pick a favorite, but post-full moon Klaus might be it.
She assumes his senses, already heightened, get an extra boost. He can never seem to get enough of her, of her scent or her taste, encourages her to be vocal, and watches her with a single minded focus that leaves her awed.
It's not like he's stingy with the orgasms the rest of the month. But directly following the full moon? Sometime she makes herself blush, just thinking about it. She figures she might as well show a little appreciation.
They always spend more time in bed than usual, the few days immediately following the full moon. Fucking and making love and sometimes just cuddling. It's not something she'd ever imagined doing with Klaus (the non-dirty stuff, at least) but there are few moments she enjoys more.
Klaus stretches, pulling Caroline away from her absent musings, and into the present. And there's no place she'd rather be, she thinks, looking down at him, enjoying the sight of his lean muscles bunching and flexing. He really is delicious, like this. Sleepy and content, his eyes dark and half lidded, body bare for her eyes only.
Caroline licks her lips, and his eyes follow the path her tongue traces. Klaus clears his throat, "Good morning," he greets, "I'm surprised you're so alert, love. Thought I'd get to rouse you with my tongue on your clit. I was so looking forward to it."
Caroline narrows her eyes at him, knowing exactly what he's trying to do. It's entirely successful, damn him, her body reacting to the idea.
And she's more than happy to let him do it. Any other time. But she wants to taste him, watch him tremble for her, wants his eyes glazed and his chest heaving.
She feigns nonchalance, shrugging her shoulders, dismissing his words. Klaus' gaze falls to her breasts, expression growing hungry. Caroline shifts her position, making a pretense of getting comfortable. She holds his gaze as she drops one hand between her thighs, rubbing her clit while he watches. She sees him tense, knows he's about to sit up, so Caroline leans down, wrapping her hand around his cock and sucking the head into her mouth.
He lets out a strangled groan, falling back onto the pillows, his thigh tensing under the hand she's got braced on it. Caroline lets out a pleased moan in response, working more of his length into her mouth. She goes slowly, licking along the sensitive underside, before wrapping her lips around him again. She takes him deep, a hoarse foreign curse ringing out when she swallows around him. Caroline hollows her cheeks as she pulls back, flashing Klaus a smile, tinged in triumph, as her grip tightens on him, stroking him leisurely and occasionally thumbing the head. Klaus hands tear at the sheets, his hips jerking in time with her movements.
There's something immensely satisfying about having Klaus like this, practically putty in her hands, his lips parted and skin flushed. Caroline reaches down to touch herself again, unable to resist and knowing that he likes it, rubbing her clit harder, her eyes fluttering shut, beyond tempted to straddle him and take him inside of her.
Klaus, ever the opportunist, pounces.
She doesn't even see him move, just feels her body being shifted, so quickly it's disorienting. She's still kneeling, when he's done, just in a different position, Klaus' breath hot on her inner thigh. She registers the sight of the foot of their bed, and is about to complain, realizing his plan. But his hands are on her hips, drawing her down to his mouth and the long, slow lick he takes of her folds makes words fly from Caroline's brain, an unintelligible jumble of sound, embarrassingly high pitched when he swipes at her clit, is all that emerges from her mouth.
So not fair.
Klaus laughs, like he can sense what she's thinking, the vibration of it sending a flutter of need through her. He's unfairly good at this, his mouth greedy and tongue precise. She can't help but move, rocking against his face, her head thrown back. She falls forward, when his lips wrap around her clit, vision going white around the edges at the feel if it, planting her hands next to his torso to keep herself upright.
Caroline fights to hold on, because this had not been the plan, and would it kill Klaus to let her have her way, once in a while? Was a wake up blowjob really such a hardship?
He's harder than ever, precum leaking from the tip of his cock. The tip that's very close to Caroline's face, at the moment.
She feels a smirk emerging, just as Klaus' fingers push into her, his tongue focusing on her clit. Caroline lets her hands slide down, his body clenching under her touch, one of them reaching to fondle his balls, as the other one pulls his cock to her lips. Klaus goes rigid, underneath her, as she licks over the head, before running her lips down his length.
He lets out a moan, and doubles his efforts. And then it's a race both of them are determined to win.
Caroline bobs up and down rapidly, hands wrapped around what she can't swallow. It's hard to focus, her body twitching with pleasure under Klaus' gifted lips and tongue and teeth. Neither of them are quiet, gasps and moans mingling.
She can tell he's close, the lines of his abdomen taut, and it's only centuries of finely honed self-control keeping him in check. Maybe someday she'll have the same, but that day's not today. His tongue lashing her clit, in the fierce suction of his mouth, his fingers pressed hard to her g-spot, has Caroline rearing up, letting go with a wail, a wave of sensation leaving her panting. Klaus gives her no time to recover, sitting up and pulling her so her back rests against his chest, her knees outside of his. He works his cock inside of her, past her wildly clenching muscles. He doesn't move, just drops his hand to the apex of her thighs, and rolls her hyper sensitive clit in his clever fingers until Caroline's cursing. "That's it love," he says, his voice thick and dark and coaxing. "You feel so good, wrapped around my cock. One more. I want to feel it. I want you to come for me."
Her body's helpless to resist the demands he's making of it, and she lets go, calling his name as she falls apart. A deep groan of her name tears out of him, his hips moving and shoving his cock further inside of her, as he shudders through his own climax.
He shifts back, gathering her close and leaning against the headboard, reaching blindly for a blanket to cover them. His hands run gently over all the skin he can reach, as their heartbeats calm and breathing regulates.
It doesn't take long, until he's got his lips brushing over her shoulder, until he's got a handful of her breast, his cock hardening beneath her.
Caroline considers calling a time out, and running for a blood bag.
But Klaus is easing them down onto their sides, pulling her leg over his hip, as his tip presses against her entrance. She grabs his hand, brings his wrist to her mouth, brushing her lips over his pulse point in question. "May I?" she asks huskily.
"Always," Klaus confirms.
He's her favorite taste, so Caroline bites down without further prompting, letting out a moan as he fills her, his blood coating her tongue.
She really hadn't wanted to leave the bed. A good thing, because she's sure she won't be, until at least tomorrow.