Notes: This was supposed to be a quick way to beat writer's block but I am bad at quick. Big thanks to Sophie for looking it over for me!
We Are A Fever
(Prompts: Caroline ties Klaus to the bed + Klaus, 'Love you look...' Caroline, 'Beautiful, I know. Can we get a move on?' Title from U.R.A. Fever by The Kills. SMUT.)
Gravel crunches in the driveway, quickly followed by the creaking of car doors opening, footsteps making their way up the front steps.
Enzo's back. There doesn't seem to be much urgency, no frantic running or shouts. His task must have been completed. Caroline allows herself a small smile. She's been preparing for a gala while she waits, the girl she'd hired to help her dress working dutifully on arranging her hair. Caroline waves the girl away with a flutter of her fingers. She subsides instantly, moving a few paces away and leaning against the wall. She averts her eyes, doesn't say a word.
Caroline does enjoy it when the help is well trained.
She leans in to inspect the girl's work, nods with approval, as she listens to Enzo and his little helpers troop into the house. She catches a few threads of hushed conversations but nothing that seems to be of much import. She'll require Enzo to make a full report later but Caroline is cautiously pleased that the errand she'd sent her people out on seems to have been successful. If they know what's good for them they'll have followed her directions to the letter.
They'll also avoid scuffing up her floors. She'd just had them refinished and Caroline had torn out hearts for less.
The voices quiet down and Caroline raises her own slightly, makes a demand, "Bring him to me."
The pause that follows her order is brief and no one speaks. Soon Enzo is mounting the stairs to obey it, his heavy tread familiar.
Caroline beckons the girl back and she immediately returns to work, fishing golden hairpins out of her apron. She sets to work twisting Caroline's hair into a low chignon. The dress she's wearing tonight is backless, daring enough that she's sure to get a number of dirty looks from the stuffy humans who think money makes them important who'll be in attendance. Loose hair would only mar the effect. It would be a nuisance, get in her way, if someone were to irritate her enough that eating them was her only option too.
Her door is ajar. "Come right in," she says, letting Enzo know he has permission to enter. He does, a body draped limply over his shoulder. A body she knows very well. Caroline smiles in satisfaction and triumph, meeting Enzo's eyes in the mirror. "I take it things went well?"
"One bite," Enzo tells her, clipped and businesslike. "No fatalities."
Caroline blinks, surprised. Klaus was usually much fiercer, his capacity for violence limitless. He is nearly as feared amongst vampires and witches as Caroline, despite him being only half her age. "Hmm. You must have surprised him," she says absently.
Enzo rolls his eyes, one of the few who'd dare such an act in her presence and possibly the only person who wouldn't be punished for it. Enzo's her oldest sireling, her most loyal. He's also one of a small handful of vampires who rival her in years who's survived to see the 21st century. He's earned leeway, at least in private. Largely because he'd never do such a thing in public.
Enzo doesn't shift under his burden, meets her gaze steadily, "We'll need his blood."
As if she didn't know that. "Within the next forty-eight hours, yes," she tells him dismissively. Her people had been warned about what Klaus was before they'd been sent to collect him. A little suffering for carelessness would be an excellent lesson, Caroline thinks.
Enzo bites back an argument, his jaw clenching. "Shall I secure him in the dungeon?" he asks after a moment.
Caroline grins, "No need. Toss him on the bed, will you? Bonnie kindly reinforced it for me earlier. There are chains in the chest at the end of the bed."
A look crosses Enzo's face, one Caroline would classify as betrayal. Ah, it seemed as though Bonnie had not informed him the spell Caroline had tasked her with. He'd have advised her against it, possibly tried to charm her into refusing. Enzo and Klaus did not get along. Caroline makes a mental note to buy Bonnie something pretty as a reward for her discretion. Enzo drops the body onto the mattress obligingly, if not exactly gently. "You're sure they'll hold him?"
The curl of Caroline's lips turns lascivious, her eyes catching those of the girl fussing with her hair. She flushes slightly, her eyes dropping to the low v of Caroline's robe. An interesting development. If things with Klaus go badly, if he has betrayed her, a pretty distraction wouldn't go amiss. Caroline holds the girls gaze, shifts her shoulder so the silk covering her breasts parts further. The girl's pulse picks up, her hands beginning to shake. Enzo makes an impatient noise and Caroline shifts her attention back to him. "Oh, yes. Klaus and I have tested them extensively. He didn't much like being tied down but I can be very convincing."
"Not information I needed," Enzo mutters. He nods towards the carved wooden chest, "Am I right in assuming you'd like to do the honors?"
Caroline nods slightly, ignoring the tug of her hair at the motion and the girl's panicked expression as she hurriedly gathers the strands she'd dropped. "I certainly would."
Enzo sighs but steps back, "Will you be needing a ride to the ball? Your usual driver is hallucinating under the influence of werewolf venom but I'm sure I can scrounge up a replacement."
She ignores the mild accusation, "I'll drive myself. Will need to come home early and deal with this… situation."
"I'll have the car brought round." Enzo says as he approaches, eyeing her face carefully. His words come out uncharacteristically hesitant, "You're certain you don't want me to speak to him?"
Caroline stiffens, narrowing her eyes in warning. She will not tolerate her word being second guessed. By anyone. "It's not you he's rumored to be plotting against, is it? I will question him. If he's betrayed me I will find out."
"And?" Enzo prods. "Say that he has. What then? Do you really think you can kill him?"
"Yes," Caroline grits out, her tone harsh and allowing no room for argument.
She'll admit to a bit of a soft spot for Klaus. Or Niklaus, as they'd first been introduced. She'd found him compelling at first sight, his cheeks flushed and dust smudged as he'd labored over a marble bust under his disapproving master's eye. She'd interrupted, offered herself as a model. Been sorely tempted to drain the master when he'd interrupted, his eyes running over her curves lasciviously, and said that her form was far too lovely to waste on Niklaus' fumbling attempts. She'd forced herself to smile, charm him into leaving her alone with his student.
They'd spoken for hours, and Caroline had found Niklaus to be far more than just a lovely face and form.
She'd teased out his story, though he was tight lipped when it came to speaking of where he'd come from. Niklaus was more open about his work, and she'd coaxed him into showing her more. Studying his pieces she'd found that his sculptures were subpar but his paintings were quite another story. They were bold and vibrant and evocative. Spectacular. Still were, Caroline assumed, with 500 years of practice, though it has been a very long time since she's seen more than a sketch.
Bidding Niklaus goodnight, that first evening, she'd planned to bed him, as soon as she could manage. Have a little taste, sate her curiosity, and be on her way.
That turned out to be one of the few plans in Caroline's very long life that had gone horribly awry.
She'd touched him first, set her mouth on his in a gentle brush, testing him. It had been like striking a flint, his response heated and immediate. He'd kissed her, forceful and needy, pressed the length of his body to hers. The greed with which his fingers had grasped her skin left her clawing at his, struggling not to tear too deeply into his fragile flesh. His desire had sent fierce waves of an answering need thrumming through her. The power of it was surprising, rare in Caroline's experience. She liked sex, had long since shaken off any shame when it came to enjoying such pleasures. After a few centuries there was rarely anything novel about the act.
Somehow, Niklaus had managed to be thrilling. He could leave her breathless and aching, hungry for more of him.
A single interlude hadn't been enough for her. It had been just the beginning.
Caroline had tempted him away from his work whenever possible, compelling his master not to notice. She'd learned Niklaus' body, the things that left him quivering and straining just on the edge of release. She had adored the sound of his voice, hoarse and pleading for mercy. Caroline taught him the secrets of hers, found him an ardent pupil, until he could have her falling apart with precise strokes of his tongue or fingers against her most sensitive flesh. The way he'd looked at her as she'd moved above him had been addicting. Niklaus had reached out with shaky fingers to touch the veins under her eyes, wide eyed and wondrous instead of fearful, the first time she'd truly allowed herself to lose control with him. Had come when she'd torn into his wrist, back arched sharply off the bed and her name a cry from his lips.
How delicious he'd been.
Caroline hadn't been able to resist collecting him.
She'd explained what she was, what she could do. He'd been fascinated and eager to know more, had peppered her with questions and listened to tales of distant places, the things she'd seen with rapt attention. When she'd described the pure rapturous freedom being a vampire offered, how it allowed her to live by her rule and no one else's, a look of determination had crossed Nicklaus' face. He'd broached the subject himself a few days later, asked her to make him what she was.
Exactly as Caroline had hoped.
She'd turned him and had never managed to regret that decision. His first kill had been a revelation, a traveller on a deserted road. Caroline still remembers the cracking of his bones, the looks of confusion on his face as he'd shuddered and dropped to his knees. The thrum of fear she'd felt when she'd faced off with a wolf, huge, golden eyed and one of the few things capable of truly harming her, had been another novel experience. That sort of terror wasn't something Caroline had felt in centuries. She'd tensed waiting for him to attack but Niklaus hadn't lunged, had merely tipped his head to the side and padded over to her. He'd nosed at her wrist, before bounding into the woods.
He'd reappeared days later, breathless and exuberant with strength greater than any newborn vampire she'd ever known. Niklaus had pinned her to the wall and taken her in a way she'd never allowed anyone else, held her hands above her head while he'd tortured her with slow thrusts and his teeth on her nipple, until she'd used her legs to pin him to her and torn her hands away. She'd bitten him, drank deep, because he'd tasted different. Better. He'd moaned and tried to thrust but the vice of her thighs had kept him trapped. Caroline had wriggled her hand in between them to her clit, rubbing frantically until she could come.
When she was finished shaking through the aftershocks she'd licked the blood from his shoulder, untangled their bodies and walked away, leaving Niklaus hard and wanting, with no other option but his hand. A woman sometimes needed to teach a man a difficult lesson.
Hybrid or no, her years made her stronger, any submission on her part had to be earned.
When he'd come to her bed that night he'd been more subdued, had coaxed her into kneeling over his mouth and hadn't complained when she'd taken her pleasure on his tongue. More than once, until he'd been sweat slick, his cock hard and leaking against his stomach, his chest moving in sharp jerks as he struggled to breathe through his need.
Once sated Caroline had collapsed, sprawled against his body, his hands stroking her trembling thighs. Still, he'd not made a move to take something for himself and she'd decided he'd earned a reward. Caroline had rolled off of him, returned the favor, taken him in her mouth and swallowed everything he had.
Eventually, he'd earned a little more of her. Niklaus took to his new life with ease and relish. He was quick minded and had a voracious appetite for new experiences. A delightful hedonistic streak. He settled at her side and Caroline had found she did not mind his company. A dozen years passed and she'd not grown bored of him. Not outside the bedroom and definitely not within it. She'd come to allow Niklaus liberties. To enjoy it when he bent her over her bed and whispered imaginative filth in her ear. Taunts about how much she loved his cock, and how he couldn't wait to watch her lick the evidence of how much she needed it away after she came for him. The twinges of pain as he pulled her hair, dug his blunt teeth into her shoulder made her hotter. She let him come on her skin, rub his scent in until she was marked by it.
All acts she'd never even thought to allow a lover before, some she'd have killed if they thought to ask for.
Caroline had been shocked by how much she'd liked them, came to crave the weight of him pinning her down even if it was only an illusion.
As satisfying as the roughness was there was usually sweetness afterwards. That, more than anything, was what came to scare Caroline. Niklaus would pull her into him, wrap himself around her, whisper words of contentment into her skin. One night she'd found herself humming, told Niklaus that it was a song her mother used to sing to her as a girl when he'd murmured that her voice was pretty.
Caroline hadn't even thought about it.
It wasn't something she'd ever done with a lover, or even one of her few friends. Confidences in the afterglow, intimacy. Such things were dangerous. Caroline guarded secrets, truths, carefully because there were all manner of people who would use them against her if given the opportunity. That Niklaus had been gifted one so easily gave her pause.
Niklaus was so young, so easily broken. It would be a shame if he died for her. Even worse if he was one of those who would come to lust for power, assume that Caroline's sex meant it would be easy for him to take hers and call it his own.
Her own husband had assumed such things. He might have been right when Caroline had been a weak girl, married off to merge their families, consolidate their father's power. He'd been so very wrong when the spell Caroline's dear friend had weaved to protect her from her husband's rough hands and unwelcome attentions had made her stronger than him. His blood had called to her, his harsh words about her place left her in an angry haze.
He'd died screaming between her teeth and Caroline hadn't even been sorry about it.
Times changed. Men didn't. A fact Caroline would do well to remember.
Caroline had destroyed many men for holding the same beliefs, for arrogantly thinking that she was easily manipulated. She'd hate to have to do the same to Niklaus, should he become ambitions.
She would, if need be. To protect what she'd built, all that she'd achieved.
Lying awake that night, listening to Niklaus breathe, Caroline had come to the realization that she had to send him away, unravel the ties that had been tightening between them before she was unable to make herself. She'd grown cold, affected boredom. Treated him like the pup that his scant years made him, dismissed him from her bed except when she'd had need of him.
Made sure she had need of him less and less. Took others to her bed while he listened, reacted with cool amusement to his anger in the mornings which only fueled his rage.
Niklaus had been stubborn, had lasted far longer than she'd expected. They'd ended in a blaze of glory, shouts and smashed furniture, books thrown and fine china shattered. He'd stormed out of her home with nothing but his clothes. Managed to dodge those she sent to check on him, leaving her with only the scantest of reports about his doings.
Caroline hadn't seen him for eighty-three years.
Until Paris.
On a street corner of all places. At the time she'd thought it a coincidence, though she'd long since begun to suspect he'd had a hand in orchestrating their meeting. Niklaus' hair had been shorter, his clothes finer. The dimples and knowing eyes exactly the same. Caroline had blinked at him quite stupidly too shocked by how deeply she'd missed him to manage a greeting. Niklaus had grinned and greeted her like an old friend, pressed his lips to her cheek, brushed a hand over her waist. Informed Caroline that it was 'Klaus' now, that he'd been busy. And did she want to come to his show?
Not, Caroline was ashamed to admit, the first or the last time Klaus had caught her off guard.
They'd been in bed together before nightfall, hours of exchanging heated glances and brief touches leaving them uncaring of all the eyes on them, the titters about how improper they were being. They'd rushed out of the gallery he'd been showing at and made quite a stir.
Caroline rarely cared for the opinions of humans. Klaus, it seemed , had come to join her in that.
She'd found that he'd learned all sorts of new things and forgotten none of what she'd liked best. That he still had all of that maddening intensity that Caroline had first been drawn to. She'd allowed herself a week of him before she'd moved on.
The name change had been helpful for her. Allowed Caroline to separate what Niklaus had been to her from who was Klaus now. She was careful about lapses, her reasons for cutting him loose still fresh in her mind. Though sometimes Caroline slipped, the intimacy creeping back into quiet moments, when Klaus' hands were in her hair, his skin warm on hers, and no one else could see or hear them.
They never spoke of the soft moments in the daylight and Caroline pretended they hadn't happened.
Even when they kept happening.
Meetings were inevitable. New vampires were made all the time but one had to keep track of one's acquaintances. She spent another week with Klaus fourteen years later. Ten days, a decade after that. Again and again it happened. Caroline took little bites of him over the centuries, savoring them like a favorite treat, cataloguing changes, watching Klaus become more than she'd ever imagined.
Never letting herself even consider lingering beyond the time she'd allotted herself. They were the tiniest moments, she justified. Barely worth considering.
She'd be fine if they were no more.
Caroline shakes herself, catches Enzo's knowing gaze and lets her expression harden. Soft spot or no there were some things that were unforgivable. Disloyalty to her was a death sentence, Klaus was clever enough to know that and the fact that she enjoyed him would not save him from consequences. She speaks softly, injecting enough steel and fire to prevent further questions, "If the rumors are correct and he's behind the little coup that we've heard whispers of he will die. By my hand, looking into my eyes. That is my final word, Lorenzo."
Enzo's been with her for nearly nine hundred years. He's earned her respect but he knows better than anyone when not to push. He stoops, rests a hand on her shoulder and presses a quick affectionate kiss to the crown of her head, "As you wish, Gorgeous."
Caroline softens slightly and they share a smile before he turns to leave, shutting the door behind him. The room is silent as Caroline's hair is finished. "All done," the girl tells her shyly. "Do you like it?"
It's exactly what they'd agreed upon, and Caroline finds herself pleased. She turns and rises, letting her unbound barely covered breasts brush against the girl as she comes to her full height. The girl shivers, bites her lip as her eyes flit up to Caroline's. She pitches her voice sweet, reaches out to ghost her fingers over the rapid pulse beating in the girl's throat, "It's lovely. Thank you. Be a dear and stick around, would you? Just in case I need help taking it down later."
The girl's eyes dart away shyly, her color deepening. She nods before excusing herself, taking one last look at Caroline before she leaves.
Caroline turns her interest to the figure on the bed before the door is even shut. Klaus had landed half on his side, his legs hanging off the bed and arms at awkward angles. He's pale and peaceful looking, eyes closed and the fire in him banked. She's enjoyed having him at her mercy over the years, bucking and straining underneath her, biting his lips bloody to keep from begging.
This is different, and Caroline's not sure she likes it.
There is blood smeared on his mouth, splattered across his light grey shirt. Damn her weakness but she's itching to lick it off.
Forcing her thoughts to remain business like Caroline stalks to the bed, digs out the chains that she needs. She arranges Klaus' body brusquely, not allowing her hands to linger. She hauls him up so he's slumped against the headboard, attaches an arm to either post. Roughly tugs off his boots and secures his legs. Takes a step back to admire her handiwork, tugging absently on the thick links. They don't budge, confirming what she'd told Enzo. Klaus wouldn't be going anywhere without her permission.
Satisfied, Caroline turns to her closet. She's got a ball to crash, a recalcitrant prime minister to charm and compel. A finance minister to kill. It'll be a busy evening. She's grateful for the distraction.
Klaus will be dead to the world for another few hours while his spine heals. When she returns she'll ask him what she needs to know, let his answers guide how she acts.
He won't be happy about his position. If he's betrayed her he'll be dead before it can matter. If he hasn't, well… Caroline's sure she can think of some mutually satisfying way to soothe his ruffled feathers.
The house is very still when Caroline returns, the click of her heels loud in the silence. She doesn't bother with the lights, makes her way up the stairs, tugging off her heavy earrings as she goes. She feels drained, stiff and numb from boredom. Nothing sucked the life out of her like petty human politics.
She hears Klaus breathing when she clears the landing to her floor and smiles in anticipation.
He's inhaling and exhaling at deliberately even intervals, a touch too loudly to be natural. She recognizes the efforts he's making in managing his temper. Klaus has learned control beautifully, she'll admit. He'd been so impulsive, once upon a time, wore every emotion plainly, his expressions and body language easy to pick apart. That's been tempered with age and experience. He still flares hot sometimes, loses control in spectacular rages, but he can channel it. Lets it fuel him. His emotions are a tool, Caroline thinks, something he uses to make people uneasy and off balance, confused and fearful about what he's capable of.
Caroline squares her shoulders and smooths her face, preparing to do battle. It's been ages since she's had a worthy opponent and she's looking forward to squaring off with Klaus. She breezes into the room, notes the tightening of his muscles as she crosses the threshold. It's minor, something most of his adversaries wouldn't have noticed.
Caroline does. She's been playing these games for a very long time.
Klaus recognizes the mistake, and he relaxes immediately, adopting a bored expression. He eyes her appreciatively, "Love, you look…"
"Beautiful?" Caroline interrupts flatly. If he thought sweet talk was going to work he had another thing coming. "I know. I had this dress custom made. Compelled the designer to never make another like it. I don't need your compliments, Klaus. You know why you're here." She saunters over to the bed, stands at the side of it, looking down at him imperiously in a way he must hate.
"Do I?" he drawls, not an ounce of discomfiture showing. "Because I am at a loss, sweetheart. I didn't even know you were here. Would have showed up to welcome you to the neighborhood all proper like."
Caroline scoffs, "Yes, I'm sure you'd have brought the very best of muffin baskets."
Klaus is not put off by her sarcasm, continuing his casual recital, "Imagine my surprise when your little witch pet stormed my house and applied aneurysms without even a polite, 'Good evening.' I had your minions coming at me in a wave and no idea what I'd done to deserve the hostility."
"I don't take kindly to you injuring my people," Caroline tells him severely.
Klaus is unrepentant, lifting a shoulder, managing an air of regality despite his bindings, "He wasn't one you liked. I'll have you know I had a clear shot at Enzo. Could have taken his head. But I refrained because I knew you'd miss him. Why, I'll never know."
"I don't miss people," Caroline corrects. She begins to unpin her hair and Klaus' eyes follow the motions, watching her curls fall about her shoulders with great interest.
He'd always liked her hair down.
"Liar," Klaus accuses. It curls softly from his lips, an endearment rather than an accusation.
Caroline lets it go, eases herself on to the bed, the high slit in her dress parting as she curls her legs under her. She sets a hand lightly on his chest, drums her fingers against the soft cotton, "We need to talk, Klaus. I've heard things. Things I don't like."
There's the slightest furrow between his brows. It reads as confusion, but Caroline knows what an accomplished liar Klaus is. He'd learned from her, after all. She could parry and cajole, knows he'd play games with her for hours if she was inclined. Caroline finds she wants concrete answers, her resolve to be harsh already blurring with him next to her.
Lightning fast she reaches out, forces Klaus' head to the side and strikes. She bites deep into his throat, and Klaus fights against her hold, moving as much as he can, his groan of pain rumbling through where they're pressed together.
It's immediately clear that he's not on vervain and Caroline allows herself a few more mouthfuls for the pleasure of his taste before she pulls away.
She doesn't go far.
Caroline plants a hand next to his head, uses her grip on his chin to direct his eyes to hers. He meets her gaze without flinching, anger kindling in his eyes, the ring of gold a warning she ignores. Her eyes dilate, preparing to force her compulsion on him, and she speaks evenly, "Have you betrayed me, Niklaus?"
He doesn't try to fight her, his eyes going unfocused. She's often wondered if he could learn, if he could tap into the same sort of immunity to compulsion that other wolves have. Becoming a vampire before discovering he was a wolf has left him vulnerable to her abilities like all other vampires. She'll have to ask him if he's ever thought to try. "I would never," he murmurs, before his eyes snap back to normal. There's a touch of resentment there and his teeth grit together audibly.
Caroline ducks down, kisses along his tight jaw before licking the closing wound at his throat. He lets out a hiss, his head tipping back at the rasp of her tongue. "Interesting," Caroline replies, as she pulls back. "I suppose that means I don't have to kill you."
His laugh is brittle, "Comforting, love. "
She catches his gaze again, feels him stiffen, "What do you know of Lucien Castle?"
Again, Klaus answers easily. "I turned him. Nearly three hundred years ago. It's been at least sixty since I've seen him."
"Seen him?" Caroline presses. Compulsion is not infallible. Intelligence could allow for some workarounds and Klaus had plenty of that. "Have you communicated with him in any way, shape, or form since then?"
His exhale is annoyed, "I have not. I haven't spoken to him. Or exchanged letters or emails or texts. He became grasping, had ambitions I could not support. I cut ties."
"So you've no idea why he's planting little tidbits of information about you? That you think you could run things far better than I? That you have secrets hidden in Chicago?"
He goes rigid when the city's name falls from her lips and Caroline's nails dig into his jaw deep enough to draw blood. She ignores the tantalizing scent, mesmerized by the reaction. It seemed Klaus had a secret after all. He tries to pull away but it's fruitless. "Shh," she croons, attempting to soothe. "You said you haven't betrayed me. How bad could it really be?"
Klaus glares, "It's none of your concern," he spits out venomously. "It's my affair. I've handled it for centuries. It's never touched you and it won't. Haven't I earned a little bit of trust? I've never asked you for a thing, love. How many others can say the same? If you force this from me, Caroline…"
He doesn't finish his sentence and the threat dangles, his eyes burning into hers, his frame a rigid line against her.
It's not something he's ever done before, even though they're no stranger to disagreements. The ultimatum gives Caroline pause. They're on an edge, narrow and precarious. She's always been the one to push Klaus away, to prioritize what she's spent a thousand years building over what she could feel for him if she allowed herself to welcome him past the walls she maintains.
If she does this, compels the truth he's hiding, she senses it will be an end. That he might no longer react to the idea of working against her with distaste and that Caroline might very well need to kill him one day.
She finds it's not an eventuality she wishes to contemplate.
Decision made Caroline lets go of Klaus, folds her hands in her lap. Tips her head to the side so her hair falls over her shoulder, "Would you tell me? If I asked you?"
He shakes his head, "Now? No. Someday? It's possible."
Caroline lets that settle. It's easy enough to read between the lines. Klaus doesn't trust her. Understandable, since she'd only just realized that she trusts him. The chains clink against the posts of the bed and Caroline watches the restless flexing of his arm with interest. She reaches out and scrapes a fingernail down his forearm. Klaus fights a shiver and when she looks down he's watching her expectantly. "Well?" he prompts, licking his lips. "Would you mind releasing me? Since I do believe the interrogation is over. "
She could. Except there's something she wants more.
Caroline grins mischievously before she bites her lower lip, shifting smoothly onto her knees. She throws one leg over his hip and settles down against him with languid movements. "Caroline," Klaus grits out warningly.
She rests her hands on his stomach, slides them up his chest as she absently rocks against him, kindling arousal in them both. Klaus turns to stone beneath her, lashes fluttering as he fights not to react. "I was thinking," Caroline muses, tracing his muscles gently through his shirt, "that you might want to help me track down Mr. Castle. Since it's your good name he's been dragging through the mud."
It's an overture. A tentative partnership offer. Nothing like she's ever offered him before. Caroline keeps her life compartmentalized. Klaus has always been one of her indulgences. She's never allowed him into the more unpleasant aspects that arose from being the first of their kind. She assumes he's well aware of the things she's done. Just as she's aware that Klaus' hands are far from squeaky clean.
No one's were, after a decade or two of requiring blood to survive, let alone a century or more.
Klaus' reply comes out raspy, though that might have something to do with the press of her pussy against his hardening cock. It's still trapped behind denim as she rolls her hips against him in lazy waves. "He's not stupid, love. Might make us give chase."
Klaus shifts up against her, eyes hot and focused on her face. It's a deliberate movement and the ridge of his zipper catches on her clit through the scrap of lace she wears, sending sparks shooting up her spine.
Caroline supposed she wouldn't be needing the servant girl. Unless she and Klaus got hungry.
She sits up and Klaus lets out a noise of protest once she's no longer pressed against him. It fades when she reaches behind her, the sound of her zipper loud in the room. Caroline reaches under the hem of her dress, peels it up her body. Tosses it over the side of the bed.
"I like the chase," she tells him. Right before she rips off his shirt. She flings it behind her, unconcerned where it had landed. It's thoroughly ruined and she's too busy licking up the traces of blood that had slid down his throat when she'd bitten him.
She scrapes her teeth along his collarbone, relishes the, "Fuck, Caroline," he pants out harshly as her hands fumble with his belt. She smiles against his skin briefly before she makes her way down. He tugs on the chains more purposefully. "Untie me," he demands.
Caroline glances up, raising a brow imperiously. She bites down on his nipple playfully, and he jolts up. "Not yet," she tells him, dragging her lips down her abs. "I like how you look like this."
He tries to protest but it comes out garbled when she traces his hipbone with her tongue. His jeans are shredded easily under her hands and he'd worn nothing underneath. She grasps his cock, one hand tight around the base of him, the other teasing his balls just the way he likes. Caroline breathes against him for a moment and Klaus' legs twitch. She swirls her tongue around the tip before sucking him into her mouth.
Klaus tries to thrash, his movements jerky when she sucks hard, and she's grateful that he's limited by the chains. It really would be a shame if she had to use one hand to hold him down. Not when his reactions are so very delightful. She works him up quickly, using lips and tongue and teeth until his skin has a sheen of sweat and his frantic movements have the sheets twisted under him. He curses, in several languages, chants her name in between. He's on the edge, throbbing against her tongue, when she pulls back, hollowing her cheeks for one final hard suck.
"Not yet, Niklaus. Did you think I would make it so easy on you?"
The noise he makes is almost a howl and Caroline sinks her teeth into his thigh.
He glances down at her, chest heaving, eyes cloudy. "Caroline…" he bites his lip before the rest comes out and Caroline grins up at him. He'd been just about to beg her, she's certain. He will, soon. She won't take him inside of her before and she knows she won't be able to deny herself for very long.
Caroline crawls up his body, leisurely, finding spots that make him shiver when she applies kisses and strokes. She tears away her panties so she's as bare as he is. Lingers when their hips are aligned. His cock nudges at her folds and she tips her hips and presses against him. His length slips along her folds as she teases them both, reaching down to press him more tightly to her. Caroline's head bows as she rolls her hips, her hair dragging over his heaving chest. He feels so good, the head of his cock nudging against her clit.
Caroline has plans, and coming like this is not among them. She stills, glances up to find him watching her, his lips parted and wet. He smiles, though it's not as confident as he likely wishes it was, "So close already, sweetheart? And I've not even done anything."
He really should know better than to taunt her.
His cock is soaked in her arousal as she moves on, and she wraps a hand around him, allowing one firm stroke, thumb brushing the head roughly. Klaus grunts, and Caroline sits up when she's straddling his chest, pouts down at him as leans over to rub his shoulders and arms. They're tight with strain, his hands clenched around her headboard.
He looks mutinous and Caroline bites back a grin. Oh, how she loves this game.
She moves slowly bringing one hand to her breast, the other dropping between her splayed thighs. Caroline lets out a sigh, eyes drifting to half-mast when she pinches her nipple, a single finger teasing her clit. Klaus' eyes dart down to watch, and Caroline leans back slightly to make it easier for him, circling faster.
Never let it be said that Caroline Forbes wasn't generous.
His voice is hoarse, the cords of his neck visible, "Caroline," he hisses out.
"Klaus," she returns. It's breathy, her body beginning to move, seeking friction against his skin. "You know how this goes. Beg me to fuck you and I will. Happily. Until I come on your cock and allow you let go and follow me."
He shakes his head, but his eyes are glued to the sight of her touching herself. She sinks two fingers inside with a groan, her hips rocking against her hand frantically so her palm rubs her clit. She's dripping, can feel that his skin is slickened with her arousal.
Not many people resist her. It's always made her hot when Klaus manages it.
She tugs her hand away, though her clenching body protests, paints his lips with her wetness before ducking down to take them in a filthy kiss, moaning when his tongue darts out to taste, pushing into her mouth and trying to take over. She allows it, for a moment, and then pulls away with a breathless laugh.
"Nice try. I want the words, Klaus. I won't even make you say please. This time."
She hears his teeth grind together, feels his resistance crumbling. The words are guttural, bitten out from deep in his throat. But they do come, "Fuck me, Caroline," he manages, gold bleeding into his eyes.
She's off of him in an instant and his moan is pained, eyes going wide and pleading. Until Caroline flashes to the dressing table where she'd stowed the key to his manacles. She hurriedly uncuffs him, distantly wondering why she'd felt the need to. Until Klaus is yanking her back into his lap, sitting up and banding his arms around her back.
This is better.
Caroline luxuriates in the feel of his skin on hers, head tipping back and eyes closing to savor it. They're both fever hot, skin slick with sweat, and they slide together easily as he brings her down onto his cock. Klaus wraps his lips around her nipple, his hands digging into her ass and urging her to move.
They set a snapping pace, rough and frantic. Caroline's distantly glad for the magical reinforcements on her bed because the frame is soon slamming into the wall. She buries her face in his shoulder to muffle her moans, nails scoring his back as her climax builds. Everything tightens, her limbs quiver as the sensations spread. Klaus grits out another curse, hand tunneling between them to pinch her clit. "More," he rasps. "Give me more, Caroline." Their motions quicken impossibly faster and Caroline shouts when the tension snaps, her body shaking against his. Klaus stiffens, sinks his teeth into her throat, hips locked to hers as he rides out his own climax.
She runs her hands through his hair as he drinks, the pull sending another pang of want through her. Caroline squirms on his lap and Klaus chuckles softly before he pulls away and falls back on the bed. Caroline slumps boneless and sated onto him, both of them breathing harshly and erratically. One of his hands strokes down her back, and she lets out a contented hum that turns into a smile when she feels him stirring against her thigh.
It really has been too long. And maybe she did lie when she claimed she never missed people.
"I have no idea where I dropped the key," she tells him, stretching lazily along his body, her legs falling into the space between his splayed thighs.
His snort is amused and his hands don't cease their movements, "Luckily it couldn't have gone far."
She presses a kiss to his chest, the birds he's gotten inked there sometime since the last time she's seen him. She'll have to ask him about them later. "Any idea where to start looking for Lucien? I'm assuming Chicago is off the table."
"For now," Klaus agrees. "I'll make some calls tomorrow. You'll do the same?"
Caroline makes an affirmative noise, finding other matters more pressing.
Klaus tugs her hair until she looks up at him and there's something new in his smile, "Excellent. I think we'll make a good team, love."
Caroline has a sneaking suspicion that Klaus is right. It's not even the first time she's had the same thought. They complement each other, in all sorts of ways. Usually she can convince herself that it's a bad thing.
Right now, with his hands drawing her close, Caroline finds that the usual arguments are fuzzy. When he opens his mouth under hers, shifting to the side so he can bring his fingers between them to roll her nipple, she finds her will to search for them eroded.
Maybe she'll try again tomorrow.