Notes: I managed to squish a whole bunch of prompts from the smut list into this one but it got a little bit away from me length-wise.

Consequence At Hand

(Prompts: #39 - Whipped Cream (which I cheated on a teeny bit because Food!Sex is a no for me, sorry!) #83 - Handcuffs #197 5-Inch Heels #52 Dirty Talk. A Crime!KC AH-AU in which Caroline took a job working with Klaus' tech start up intending to rob him blind but he turns the tables before she can. Title from "Criminal" by Fiona Apple. SMUT).

She rolls to a careful stop, eyes glued to the house in front of her. She's become so used to screechy brakes that she doesn't even flinch at the noise. The car's used, has seen far better days. There are an alarming number of miles on the odometer and it's painted an odd powder blue color, not something Caroline would normally be caught dead in. She'll miss a few things about this life when she leaves it behind in a few hours but eyesore she's been driving won't make the list.

A fake identity lives and dies in the details, Caroline has learned. Beth Williams, the small town girl with her first big city job, who she's been playing, wouldn't be able to afford anything better. Caroline had sucked up her distaste in the name of authenticity.

Getting out of the car she pauses to straighten her outfit, flicking open an extra button on her blouse as she takes in Klaus Mikaelson's home. It's huge, befitting a man with family money and a profitable tech company. The front is all glass and stone, warm lights glowing from inside. The grounds are lush and perfectly maintained, and she thinks she just spies the glimmer of a pool round back. She tells herself to stop gaping because, while it is a lovely building, she's more interested in the three built in safes it contains.

Still, can admit that Mr. Mikaelson has great taste. With a little luck this might just be her most profitable job yet.

She takes the few steps to the gate, presses the button on the intercom that's embedded in a stone pillar. She blows out a breath, refuses to give into the urge to fidget as she waits for a response. She's certain there's a camera trained on her (she's noticed a couple of paranoid tendencies) so when Klaus' voice crackles through the speaker she pastes on her biggest Miss Mystic Falls smile and speaks brightly. "Hi, Mr. Mikaelson!"

"Beth," he says, and she's a little taken aback by the warmth. "What a lovely surprise."

Caroline bites her lip, wishing that blushing on command was a thing. "I'm really sorry to bother you at home. And on the long weekend too!"

"Did I forget to sign something urgent? I was sure I'd cleared my desk."

"No, nothing like that. A delivery that seems personal came just after you left. I figured I'd drop it off on my way home."

He takes longer to answer and when he does his tone lacks any inflection. She wouldn't call it coldness, or anger, but it puts her nerves on alert just the same. Maybe he had a visitor? One who might take offence to Klaus receiving unknown personal deliveries. Caroline hopes not. She only has enough night night powder for one. "That was… thoughtful of you," Klaus finally says. "What is it that couldn't wait until Tuesday?"

"I didn't open the box. But it's from the bakery you like, Anna's on Fifth? Whatever it is I didn't think it'd be all that tasty if I left it in the kitchen for three days. There's a bottle of champagne too."

"Any note?" He still doesn't sound particularly pleased which is weird. She's had access to Klaus' calendar for months, knows he sees a trainer three times a week and runs every evening. She figures it's his way of balancing his massive sweet tooth and ensuring his ass looks distractingly graspable in his perfectly tailored dress pants.

Not that she's spent an excessive amount of time thinking about him naked or anything. Just the normal amount one spent when her daily tasks are kinda boring and her boss wears really good cologne.

She realizes she's paused too long and gropes for an answer, "I didn't see one! Maybe in the box?"

"Perhaps," he allows, after another long moment. "Come on up."

"Will do!" Caroline chirps, spinning to head back to her car. She grins once her back's to the house, when she hears the gate rolling open, pleased and a little smug that step one of her plan had been such a breeze.

Back in the driver's seat she takes a second to check her appearance, debates putting on another layer of lipstick. She decides against it. She's already discarded her fake glasses, taken down her hair and left it falling in messy curls about her shoulders – a more casual look than she's ever worn at the office.

Part of step two of the plan.

She needs him to ask her to stay for a drink, wants him to be distracted by her dishevelment. She doesn't anticipate gaining the invite will be a problem – Klaus hasn't been subtle about checking her out, goes out of his way to get her alone for chats that often veer from business matters. She's pretended (okay, mostly pretended) to be flattered by the attention, has done a fair bit of giggling and playing at bashfully averting her eyes, even while she invades his personal space and stares at his lips.

She's confident he'll make a move now that they're out of the office, slightly regretful that she won't get to experience any follow through.

Caroline glances down, decides that one more button can go, knows that if she leans over just right the pale purple lace of her bra (way out of Beth Williams' budget but men are always so clueless about that kind of thing) will peek out.

She turns the keys in the ignition, ignoring the loud rattle of the engine.

It's showtime.

Caroline groans, lifting her head slowly. She's been slumped forward, her chin resting on her chest, and her neck protests being straightened. She ignores it because something's clearly gone terribly wrong.

The first thing she sees is her safe cracking kit, unrolled and spread out on a glass table top. Her head aches and she can't quite wrap her mind around what's happening. Shouldn't her gear still be safely tucked away in the bottom of her bag? Why was it out? Had Klaus seen it? That would be hard to explain. If she'd just spent five months as a freaking admin assistant, living in a one bedroom apartment with no cable, for nothing she's going to be pissed.

She blinks rapidly, trying to focus her vision enough to assess her surroundings. The lighting is dim but beyond the table is an impressive bank of computer monitors. Many are blank but he evening news plays on one, CNN on another. A third is just endless scrolls of letters and numbers and symbols and it's too far away for Caroline to make out anything recognizable. From what she can see the room is large but otherwise sparsely furnished. The glass table, four empty chairs. No windows.

The door has to be behind her.

She shakes her head, tries to move her feet. Only to find that she can't. Caroline leans forward, but she's not able to do that very well either. She can see just make out her feet, bare of shoes though her black stockings remain, and the zip ties that bind her ankles to the chair's legs. Metal, she thinks, judging from how cool they are against the back of her calves. Her arms are equally immobilized, clasped behind her back and handcuffed. A tug tells her the links are threaded through the rungs of the chair back, and she saws them back and forth, testing the strength, hoping for just a little bit of give. Unfortunately, everything is sturdy and well made.

So much for disappearing into the sunset.

She hears a creak, then a loud scraping behind her, and Caroline jerks her head in an attempt to see who's coming. It doesn't help her headache but the new twinge of pain gets her thinking more clearly. Klaus stops short when he sees her looking at him and his lips twist, "Ah, I see you're awake."

She sinks down in the chair, deciding to try for tearful and scared. "M-m-m-Mr. Mikaelson? What did you do to me?" She blinks at him, hoping her wobbly lip does the trick.

Probably too optimistic but trying never hurt anyone.

Klaus approaches her steadily, his face impassive. "I lifted that little vial from your skirt pocket. Slipped about half of it in your glass of champagne. Since I wasn't sure what it was, and I'd like answers sooner rather than later, I'd lightened the dosage. No need to thank me."

Shit. He definitely knew too much. She should have been suspicious when he'd insisted on pouring. She should have dosed the first glass. She'd figured waiting for them to kill most of the bottle would give her a little extra time, had planned on leaving a note indicating he'd crashed and she'd slipped out, that she'd see him on Tuesday. With a little luck he didn't obsessively check his safes daily and wouldn't be aware anything was amiss until his assistant failed to show up.

She'd wildly miscalculated. The fact that Klaus had even been suspicious, that he'd picked her pocket, that she hadn't felt a thing, galled. She makes a mental note to get in some practice before her next job.

Assuming she could talk her way out of this and didn't end up in a tiny concrete cell.

She drops the quivering innocent act, straightening her spine. "There's no chance in hell I'd thank you for drugging me." Caroline spits. She twists her wrists, shifts her ankles, again testing her bonds. She doesn't take her eyes off Klaus, and he's studying her just as intently. "Was it really necessary to tie me up?"

"It seemed prudent." He nods to the tools on the table, "You seem to have a multitude of talents that you left off your resume."

"And what, you think I'm also some kind of assassin?"

Klaus laughs softly, grabs one of the chairs that line the table – leather, and much plusher than her own. He sits, pulling her closer and spreading his legs so his knees rest on the outside or her thighs. He leans forward until his eyes are inches from hers, grips the sides of her chair, his hands pressing into her thighs. Caroline finds herself holding her breath. "Are you?" he asks, quiet but deadly serious. "An assassin, I mean."

She has nowhere to go, very few cards to play, but she won't let him intimidate her. Caroline scoffs, turning her head away. "Okay, can we dial down the paranoia here?"

"That's not an answer."

"Have you done something that's put a price on your head? Something that would warrant an assassination?"

"A few somethings, actually. But we're not talking about me." He tucks her loose hair behind her ear, urging her to look at him again. "Tell me your name."

"You know my name."

He sighs as if he's disappointed. "I've known you're not Beth Williams since about four hours after you walked out of my office that first day."

Caroline bristles, a hot wave of anger crashing over her. How was that even possible? She was damn good at her job, thank you very much. "Bullshit. Why did you hire me if you knew I was a fake?"

His head tips to the side and his hand leaves her face, "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I assumed a competitor had sent you, that you'd be feeding them info about our R&D."

Caroline snorts, "Sorry, I'm not that fancy. I just wanted your money, maybe a couple of small trinkets to fence."

It seems she's surprised him, "That's it? You were just going to rob me?"

She has no idea why he's so offended. "Pretty much. Don't take it personally. I've got bills and an addiction to high end skincare products."

His eyes narrow, and he pushes away from her, standing in one swift motion. He stalks away from her, leaving her line of sight. She hears him behind her though, knows he hasn't left the room so attempting to wriggle out of the handcuffs is out. He's not gone for long and Caroline stiffens when he's right behind her. He leans over her shoulder, setting a bottle of water down in front of her. Followed by a plate holding a generous slice of the chocolate cream pie she'd used as an excuse to stop by.

Caroline cranes her neck up so she can see him, "Do you think I'm an idiot? No way am I eating anything you've given me."

His hand appears in front of her face, waggling the vial she'd brought, still half full as he'd said. "You can do as you'd like. Surely you can see there'd be little point in drugging you again?"

She feels his hands on her wrists and one of the cuffs loosens. Caroline makes to rear forward but a firm hand on her shoulder stops her. Klaus's hand curves around her throat, easing her head up once more, "I'm afraid I still have a few questions for you, love." He lets go and she hears the cuff clinch shut once more. Klaus retreats and Caroline yanks on her altered bindings.

She's got a little more slack, and one free hand, but she's still stuck. Caroline considers lobbing the plate at his head but quickly discards the idea. It won't get her anywhere, the paper plate wouldn't even do a satisfying amount of damage, and there's no reason to waste perfectly good pie.

She just wishes he'd been dumb enough to give her a metal fork.

Caroline ignores the dessert, and the growling of her stomach, picking up the bottle of water and examining the lid. Finding it still sealed she squeezes, attempting to see if any water leaks from a possible puncture mark. Klaus huffs out an irritated sigh from behind her, "I'm honestly hurt that you trust me so little."

"Learn a girl's safeword before you tie her up if you want trust," Caroline shoots back. She twists so she can look at him but Klaus is facing away from her. There's a door, just as she'd suspected, heavy metal and dented, lined with several locks. Also a sink and a small countertop, featuring a coffee pot and a mini fridge tucked underneath.

Most of her grogginess has gone and she's struck by how weird this room is. She's been in many a fancy rich person's house – usually not by their invitation but that's beside the point – and dark, windowless, no frills secret rooms weren't really a thing.

Rich people, as a rule, like to show off.

Klaus' reply is pointed, "Shouldn't a conversation of that nature begin with names?"

She refuses to concede, "Not necessarily. Sometimes anonymity makes it hotter."

He doesn't answer right away but Caroline thinks she detects a slight stiffening of his shoulders. She imagines he's wearing the clench-jawed annoyed murder face he gets when he meets with the company's lawyers.

She'd always made sure there was a cookie or two tucked next to his afternoon coffee on those days. Because, fake job or no, Caroline lacks the ability to half-ass anything.

She turns around when he moves, hopes he hasn't noticed the close attention she'd been paying him. Klaus returns to her side with another plate and a mug of his own. Steam swirls above the rim and the rich scent is unmistakable. The urge to nag him has become instinctual, "Coffee? You shouldn't drink coffee after 2 PM. It'll mess up your circadian rhythms!"

Klaus grins, takes a sip and holds her gaze as he does it. He pushes her closer to the table, sits down to her left. "So nice of you to be concerned. Unfortunately, my sleep schedule is a bit of a mess. I've a little side project that requires late nights."

"How can you possibly have time for a side project?" She curses herself as soon as the question is out. Curiosity could be exploited and she already knows that Klaus is far from stupid.

"I make time," he says simply.

Caroline grits her teeth together, fighting the urge to press. That's probably exactly what he wants.

"In the spirit of the free exchange of information, I've spent the last year doing my damnedest to sabotage my father's business interests. Through means legal and otherwise."

It takes her a second to wipe the shock off her face, and to slip the blank mask back into place. Caroline hadn't had an inkling and she'd researched Klaus extensively. Not to mention she's been spending close to fifty hours a week in his orbit for nearly half a year. She's a little impressed and a whole heap of annoyed.

Honestly, where had her head been on this one? She's been trained better than this.

"When you say illegal," Caroline says slowly. "Are we talking like, violent illegal? Or like, computer viruses and life ruining videos stolen and leaked on to the internet illegal?"

"A little of both."

She digs her toes into the concrete floor, edging away from Klaus. He stops her, grabbing her free hand and pressing it to the table. "I'm not going to hurt you. In fact, I'm beginning to think I should promote you."

So not what she'd expected to hear. Caroline gapes at him, "Wait, what?"

He lets her go, drags his fork through the mound of whipped cream sitting on top of his pie, "It's simple, really. I don't want to train another assistant. You could do it for me. Once we've installed someone satisfactory you take on… additional duties."

She glares at him, "If this is you trying to get into my pants you're really lucky I can't stab you right now."

His expression grows offended, "I am not," he clips out.

"Really?" Caroline says, not trying to hide her skepticism. "Because you spend an awful lot of time staring at my ass."

"Just as you'd intended, hmm? Surely the cut of your skirts doesn't perfectly highlight your assets accidentally."

Okay, fine. He has her there. "Every job has a uniform."

"I suppose that's true."

She reaches for the water bottle again, needing something to occupy her hand. "So you're not offering me money for sexual favours."

"I am not. Though, for the record, I have no objections to you offering them. And I fully intend to make you want to."

Caroline's not willing to touch that statement just yet. "What is it you think I could do for you?"

He nods at her tools, the vial he'd set next to them. "I've been working alone. Learning as I go. But there wasn't a safe cracking course at my prep school. I assume that's not your only skill? You seem the overachieving type."

It seems she hadn't been the only one observing. "I'm a pretty well rounded criminal," Caroline admits. "And I'm not cheap."

He doesn't even twitch, "I have plenty of money. You can name your price."

Oh, it's entirely possible he'll regret that. "I want my salary doubled."

"Only doubled?"

"That's just for the day job."

Klaus smiles, "Of course."

"I'll be needing a nicer place. Something with a view. Great closets. The kind of bathtub you could host an orgy in. I assume you can get that for me?"

"I'll call my realtor in the morning."

Caroline had been half-joking, testing how serious he was. But, now that he's offered…

"You'll cover any expenses I incur working on your little side project." There are some fancy toys that Caroline wouldn't mind acquiring. She's sure she can figure out a use for them. "And we'll work out payment on a job by job basis. Bigger risk, expect to pay more."

"Naturally."

He hasn't flinched, has regarded her steadily as she'd enumerated her demands, taking small bites of the dessert in front of him.

He really does want her on the payroll.

He lifts his eyebrow and Caroline hears the silent question loud and clear. She considers asking for a couple days to think about it but she knows her answer won't change. What he's offering? It's a dream job. Starting a new life every couple of months got tedious, the interim where she had no mark was often boring. "Then I guess I'm in. You should probably call me Caroline when we're not at work."

A spark of pleasure lights his eyes, and he nudges her plate, "A very pretty name."

"Thanks. Feel like untying me?"

"I suppose I should." He produces a pocket knife and bends, makes quick work of the ties at her ankles. His hands linger, rubbing gently to ensure they hadn't dug in to harshly. She knows he's making a show of it, her stockings are a fine knit and undamaged so her skin's no worse for wear. Caroline bites down on her lower lip, tensing to avoid any movement. They might be partners, of a sort, but who knew if that would even work? Hitching her leg over his shoulder and demanding her touch her would be a terrible idea.

He stands and she knows it's for the best. He steps behind her once more, fitting a key to her cuffs, "Why don't you eat?" Klaus suggests. "I'll can get you up to speed with what I'm working on?"

Caroline accepts, picking up her own fork. Food was a decent enough distraction from the arousal she can't seem to tamp down. "The deal's off if you were lying about this being dosed, by the way." She doubts he'd go to so much trouble, to spin such a story all in the hopes of getting her to eat something, but it never hurt to cover your bases.

She hums in satisfaction when the rich chocolate hits her tongue, her concern momentarily forgotten.

She'd paid good money for the pie, from her not so cushy assistant's salary. She deserves to enjoy it.

Plus, Klaus shifting in his chair every time she makes an exaggerated (occasionally semi-pornographic) noise of enjoyment is pretty freaking fun.

The first time he kisses her they're both really pissed off.

They've just come from a charity ball - Klaus' mother's work. He'd made a command appearance, Caroline had infiltrated the catering company. She'd spent the evening serving endless trays of canapés and dodging old rich men who with zero manners and wandering hands, all in a form-fitting cocktail dress and five-inch heels. She'd done her cleanup duties, walked three blocks from the mausoleum Klaus' parents called home, and slipped into the passenger seat of his SUV.

She hadn't been in the best of moods to begin with. Klaus' conversational efforts on the drive back to his home had been limited to grunts and she'd been able to feel him seething. Caroline's had enough.

She tears off the short red wig she'd worn, tossing it forcefully at Klaus' head. "I saw an opportunity and I went for it. And it worked! So stop with the broody glares and the silent treatment."

He slams his front door, points sharply down the hallway. Caroline rolls her eyes and stomps in the indicated direction. Klaus is paranoid enough to have secret rooms and he refuses to speak a direct word about his 'side projects' outside of them.

He's close at her heels as the bookshelf that conceals the entrance slides open, reaches past her to wrench open the metal door. Caroline whirls, intending to yell until he yells back, but his hands land on her face, cupping her jaw and angling her head as his mouth lands on hers.

She doesn't even consider not kissing him back. This has been building for months and she wants it. Has wanted it, even back when she was planning on running with a pile of his money. The first kiss is short; his tongue does a quick claiming sweep of her mouth, his hands firmly keeping her in place.

"It was an unnecessary risk," he rasps, once he's pulled back. "You're not something I'm willing to risk, Caroline. You know that."

He takes her mouth again, muffling her reply. Klaus is demanding not coaxing and her mouth falls open to greet him. Caroline rises up onto her toes, rubbing her tongue against Klaus'. He tastes of the mints he always has stashed in his center console and his greed, the way he's striving to reduce the distance between them to nothing, is so satisfying.

They've come to work together beautifully, anticipating and reacting to one another with minimal conversation required. It's a rare night that she doesn't end up moaning his name as a vibrator hums against her clit to ease the tension so she can sleep.

She wants him. She likes him, she's not the least bit surprised that he's come to value her though they'll be having words about his statement if he gets too high handed and tries to dictate her actions. She was the crime veteran, wasn't she?

It'll keep. They'll have plenty of time to fight later.

She grips the lapels of his jacket, plastering the length of her body against his. Their movement halts, him trying to walk her back, Caroline intent on shoving him against the wall so she can start ripping buttons and get her hands on his skin.

She moans into his mouth, dragging her hands down his chest, hoping a little distraction will allow her to get her way. Klaus is faster and when his mouth lands just under her jaw, his hand tugs on her hair as his thigh presses between her legs, Caroline falters back a step. She feels his smile where it's pressed into her skin, but the drag of his teeth down her throat stills her snippy comment. His hips press into hers urging her back. He hooks his fingers in the straps of the little black dress that had constituted her uniform. Seams pop but Caroline doesn't care, not with Klaus hot and frantic against her. She arches towards him when he yanks the dress down her shoulders. His head dips when her breasts spill out over the neckline and he uses his teeth to pull down the cup of her strapless bra before brushing his lips over her nipple. It tightens more with his every pass, whether he's using lips or teeth, and Caroline clenches her hands into fists to stop herself from winding them into his hair.

She hadn't even noticed him walking her steadily backwards until she hits the edge of the table.

His glances up, lips curling into a wicked smirk. "I win," he rasps.

That's a challenge Caroline can't resist. "Do you? I have some pretty dirty fantasies about this table. Sometimes involving handcuffs and chocolate cream pie. Maybe I win."

His lashes fall, and he switches to the other breast, sucking harshly for a moment. Her legs go unsteady and she rests her weight against the table. His lips are red and wet when he pulls back, his reply annoyingly casual. "It's a pity the handcuffs are upstairs."

Caroline raises an eyebrow, "Interesting."

Klaus's smile is mischievous, "Perhaps a bit of your optimism has rubbed off and I've taken to stashing them in my bedroom."

Caroline makes a mental note to do some shopping. Klaus could definitely afford it and something lined would be preferable to the utilitarian metal pair he'd used on her before. She strokes a finger along the blue striped silk tie he wears. "I'm also great at improvising ingenious solutions."

He groans, reaching up to pull at his collar and there is something really hot about a man who could take a hint. "The pie will have to wait for tomorrow. I'll have one delivered."

Caroline watches his hands, detects a hint of unsteadiness as his fingers unknot the tie. She turns, crossing her wrists behind her back, "My safeword is burgle, by the way."

The silk slides across her skin and Klaus makes his knots quickly and efficiently, tucking his finger underneath to check they're not too tight. He sweeps her hair to the side once he's done, pressing a hot open mouthed kiss to the back of her neck as he flicks open the class of her bra and lets it fall. "Noted."

He works her dress off, his hands gliding over her skin. When it falls from her hips he rests his hand on the front of her panties, the other cupping the underside of her breast. Caroline shifts one leg to the side in invitation. His fingers drift downwards, pressing into her folds as he tugs at her nipple. Caroline shivers when he finds her clit through the lace, rubbing deliberately.

She leans heavily against him, tipping her hips up in a silent plea for more. Klaus pulls back after a moment and she whines a protest, hears a rustling. His jacket lands on the table in front of her and his hands settle on her hips. "On the table, love. I want your arse up."

She hesitates, glancing back at him. Klaus holds her gaze as he slowly unbuttons his dress shirt. He waits for her to make up her mind and that's why Caroline decides to see where he wants to take her.

A few of her fantasies ran along the same lines, after all.

She bends at the hips and Klaus' hands stroke her skin, kneading and gliding up the length of her back and she leans forward. Her bound arms mean her chest rests on the table, his jacket protecting her skin from most of the chill of the glass. She tests the sensation, rubbing her nipples against the silk lining of his jacket, the hard surface beneath, lets out a breathy little sigh when she finds that she likes it.

Klaus' mouth has followed his hands and he softly kisses her shoulder blade, scratches his stubble against the other as his hands rub against her sides.

She hadn't managed to take her heels off and she feels Klaus urging her legs wider as he peels her panties down. His is skin warm against hers and he murmurs in her ear, voice gone rough, "You look incredible like this, Caroline. Have I ever mentioned how much the little slits in your skirts taunt me?"

She hears a chair rolling forward, the whoosh of air pushing out of a cushion. He's sat down and her knees wobble a bit as she thinks about what he must be seeing. His hands stroke the outside of her thighs and his lips land on the base of her spine. "Steady, love," he croons.

Caroline takes a deep breath, sliding forward and resting her cheek on the cool glass. "Will you tell me about it?" she asks.

He hums, pleased. "Every time you'd walk away from me my eyes would flit down. I'd wonder how your hips would fit in my palms, what sort of knickers you preferred. I'm delighted by that little scrap of black lace, by the way and I hope you have it in more colors."

She smiles, "I definitely do."

"Good. I look forward to peeling them off you. I've wondered if you'd ever slip off whatever undergarment you happened to be wearing in the middle of the day. If you'd lift your skirt and writhe against my mouth on my desk while everyone toiled away just outside my office. If you'd like to return the favor and take my cock inside your mouth and ride your fingers while I take a particularly tedious call."

His touch has gone gentle, teasing but Caroline doesn't mind. It would a shame if she couldn't focus on his voice. She's probably embarrassingly wet, and her clit is demanding attention, but she doesn't want him to stop talking.

Luckily, Klaus doesn't seem inclined to. His thumbs drift up her inner thighs, stopping to stroke just under the curve of her ass. "On the days you skipped stockings I'd spy the pale skin at the back of your knees and think about how you'd react if I traced it with my tongue." One of his hands slips lower, his fingertips feathering over the area he'd just mentioned. It sends a sharp trickle of heat through her and Caroline squirms, her arms shifting restlessly.

"Sensitive," Klaus murmurs. "Just as I'd hoped."

Caroline rocks against the table, hoping for a bit pressure, the tiniest hint of relief but Klaus stills her. "Soon," he promises. His hand dips between her thighs, two fingers toying with her clit. He rubs, occasionally squeezes gently, and fog shows on the glass table top as Caroline begins to pant.

She almost misses his next words. "And those thoughts are downright tame compared to the ones I've had since you broke into my house. Speaking of safewords, sweetheart. You had to know where my mind went."

Caroline groans, "God. Klaus."

"I thought of you bound to my bed, begging. I thought about just how many times I'd have to work you up until you were inarticulate, only capable of moaning my name. I wondered if you might like rougher games, a few bites of pain to heighten your pleasure."

She nods, her flushed cheek dragging against the glass. She barely hears the noise. "Klaus. Please, I need…"

She feels him nip her thigh and she tenses, shuddering when he licks over her entrance. Her body clenches around nothing and when Klaus slips a finger inside of her she moans and tilts her hips up, urging him deeper. She's so hot, shaking. Can feel the hair that's escaped her ponytail sticking to her neck. "You're dripping, love," Klaus says, sounding very pleased with himself. "I think you quite like what I'm saying. We'll have to make some lists. Things you like, things you want to try. You like it when I talk to you, that's clear enough."

Ugh, talking about organizing their kinks only makes her hotter.

Her laugh is strangled, more frustration than amusement. "Of course I like it. I would just also like a little more action. I'm so close. Make me come."

A second finger joins the first, scissoring inside of her. "Better?"

She moves with him, pressing back against his hand. "More," she rasps. "I want more."

Klaus stands, planting his free hand next to her head and running his mouth across her cheek. "I had a physical last month."

She knows what he's asking, can just see his jerky attempts to free his cock in her peripheral vision. "I know. I scheduled it."

He bites her earlobe in admonishment and she arches up with a whimper. "What I meant was, do we need a condom?"

His fingers withdraw from her and Caroline shakes her head, "No. IUD. Just…"

Her demand is lost as he fits the head of his cock to her entrance, pushing in steadily, and his breath leaving him in a gasp. He reaches under her, his fingers practiced and firm, and she'd been so close. It only takes a few thrusts, his fingers pressed to her clit, to have her coming with a sharp cry.

He's gentle while she shakes through, gliding his cock through her slickness nice and easy, prolonging the pleasure. Caroline finds she's far from satisfied when she comes back to herself and she pushes back against him, urging him to go faster, harder, when she can speak again. His teeth end up buried in her shoulder when he comes, a mark she doesn't mind having to hide.

She also ends up with some interesting bruises along the tops of her things. Klaus is apologetic, asks to check if they're fading often. At home and at work.

Caroline doesn't mind. Office sex had been on her list since day one, back when she'd been glad Klaus was prettier than her regular mark. She hadn't known then that he'd become so much more.

Who knew spectacularly failing could end so well?