As many of you know, I've been dealing with both a family emergency and a new job for the past few weeks. I'm sorry that my updates haven't been on schedule, but it's been a particularly rough month for me and even doing edits feels overwhelming. I promise I'll try to keep on time from now on, and I really appreciate you guys sticking with me. Thank you, as usual, to Morgan and Steph for beta work/readovers.
I also want to emphasize that I am on a tumblr hiatus. If you want to see updates to this story when they come, please subscribe to it so that you get emails, as I won't be putting up notification posts. Thanks!
He knew something was wrong the moment he got through the front door. Caroline hadn't called him or reached out, but he just had a feeling that he couldn't shake. He was proven right when he went to find her in her office and found her red-eyed and raw-faced on the couch among a pile of used tissues with a blanket wrapped tightly around her, her knees drawn up to her chest.
"Caroline?"
"He's dead," Caroline said, her voice hollow. "Jenna found him this morning when she went to see what he wanted for breakfast."
"I'm so sorry, love."
She nodded, staring unseeingly at the bookshelf across the room. He waved his hand to vanish the tissues around her and sat beside her on the couch, reaching to tentatively rest his hand on her shoulder, unsure whether it was a good or bad thing when she immediately burst into tears.
Still, she let him pull her close, let him stroke her hair and whisper how sorry he was before he fell silent, just allowing her to sob into his chest. Caroline had always been an unmatched force of nature, an unstoppable beacon of light that he'd never dreamed could flicker in the face of loss. He'd known that she cared for her father, of course, but it had never occurred to him that she would try to bear the weight alone. For a brief moment he thought about asking why she didn't call, but he realized that he knew.
He should have anticipated it, should have realized that she likely wouldn't think to contact him. To trust him with her vulnerability. She thought he was cold and unfeeling, that his interest in her was solely for her influence, body, and money. He had no doubt that she believed that he wasn't invested in her happiness, that he only cared as far as logistics went. He swore to himself that he'd find a way to convince her otherwise. He wanted her to trust him, to come to him with her worries and fears and hopes. She was his wife. He'd chosen her, and he liked to think that someday she'd choose to give herself to him too, even if it took some time after the rest of the world thought she already had.
"He was supposed to have until June," she sniffled. "I can't...I didn't think..." she trailed off, and he hesitantly began to rub her back, his arms securing around her.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart."
She twisted in his arms to bury her face in his shoulder, sobs still making her shake even if she wasn't making a sound. He didn't like seeing her like this. It made him sick to know that there was a person still living who had directly caused her grief. He never wanted her to feel that again. He wouldn't allow it.
"I'll find him," Klaus found himself whispering.
"What?" Caroline asked, hiccuping even as she tried to get the words out. "Find who?"
"The murderer."
He'd been looking into it since his sources told him that Caroline's father was sick, even before he'd convinced Bill to agree to a match. His investigations hadn't turned up any names, which was immensely frustrating. He could feel deep in his bones that Damon Salvatore had something to do with it, but he had no proof, something he knew Caroline would need to be comfortable with him taking action.
Caroline sighed, turning to rest her cheek on his chest, her arms finding their way around his neck to anchor herself to him. "If we knew who they were, they'd be dead."
"I'll find him," Klaus repeated. "He'll never hurt you again. I promise."
"Could be a girl," Caroline pointed out, her lips twitching. "The killer, I mean."
"Perhaps," Klaus said. "No matter the identity, they will die by my hand. Painfully."
She let out a soft, watery laugh. "Okay. If you say so."
"I do," he murmured, stroking her hair. "Let me take you to bed, love."
She stiffened. "Seriously?"
"To sleep," he said exasperatedly. "You're clearly exhausted. I can take care of whatever work you need done today."
"It's fine," she protested. "I'll be okay. I need a distraction."
"We have dreamless sleep potions," he said, rearranging their positions so that she was in his lap. "I'll get you one and you can rest."
"Fine," she said after a second of thought. "I...Promise you'll take care of everything?"
"You have my word."
"Okay."
He apparated them to their bedroom, turning down the covers for Caroline as she kicked off her jeans and took off her bra before she crawled into bed, hugging the pillow to her chest. He was about to turn on his heel when she reached out, her fingers closing around his wrist. "Can you bring everything back up here?" she asked quietly.
"To stay, you mean?"
She nodded.
"Of course, sweetheart."
He brought her back her dreamless sleep potion and got into bed beside her to flip through her to-do list for the day, already making some notes on things he thought he could take care of without her expertise. Every now and then he couldn't help but glance to where Caroline was lying at his side, her chest rising and falling as she breathed deeply, her face still red and puffy from crying.
"I'll find them," he whispered, reaching to tuck a curl behind her ear.
She turned towards him in her sleep, reaching to find him, mumbling his name when her hand connected with his arm.
He smiled.
XXX
She could feel Klaus's arm securely wrapped around her waist, grounding her as she felt like the word was tipping beneath her. Bill had asked to be cremated, a common trend for the generation that grew up during the second war because of the fear of being brought back as an inferius, and they were doing the last part of the funeral before they took his body to fulfill his wishes. She was holding Steven's hand as he put on a brave face. She'd have to make sure that he was taken care of. Maybe she could buy him a warded house on the countryside?
The ceremony had just ended, and people were roaming around the backyard of the mansion where they'd decided to hold the funeral, all clad in black dress robes. It felt overwhelming, the idea of greeting and making small talk with people, many of whom she didn't even like, while in such a vulnerable position. She felt her throat had swollen to block anything she could have said, her hands shaking as she tried to smooth the front of her robes, shooting Klaus a grateful half-smile when he tugged her closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "All right, love?"
"Yeah," she choked out. She swallowed audibly, squeezing her eyes shut for just a moment before she hardened her expression, straightening her spine. She wouldn't allow any of these people to see her weakness. She couldn't afford that, not when her position at the head of the family was so tenuous. "Yeah. I'm fine."
"Only another hour or so, I think," Klaus murmured quietly enough that only she could hear, squeezing her hip, a soft groan of annoyance leaving his lips when he saw who was walking towards them. "Perhaps we can leave early."
She breathed out half a laugh at how quickly he'd grown to loathe Camille and Damon as much as she had before pasting a smile on her face and trying to look like she was okay with talking to them. "Hi. I'm happy you could come," she lied.
"I'm so sorry, Caroline," Camille said softly, her hand laid on Caroline's forearm. It took every piece of control she had not to jerk away. "I know this must be hard. How have you been holding up?"
"Fine," Caroline bit out, neatly stepping into Klaus's side to avoid the hug that Damon was obviously about to go in for. "Thank you for coming."
"Of course. We would never want to leave you alone during this difficult time," Damon drawled, earning him a soft smile from Camille, who clearly still hadn't learned to differentiate sincerity from douchery. "Let us know if there's anything we can do to help."
"Oh, I'm sure you're busy with Zachary," Caroline said with a tight smile. "He was only born a month ago. I wouldn't want to make your life more difficult."
Camille looked like she wanted to protest, but Klaus stepped in, squeezing Caroline's waist lightly. "My apologies Camille, but we have more guests to attend to."
"But-"
"Thank you for your sympathies," Klaus said firmly, cutting her off and immediately steering Caroline towards Bonnie, which she was thankful for.
"Thanks," she said quietly, her lips twitching at Klaus's huff.
"If I never have to see them again I shan't be sorry," Klaus grumbled, his lips twitching when Caroline immediately teased him for his old-timey language. Later it occurred to her that he'd probably done it on purpose to distract her.
She exchanged hugs with Bonnie, who promised to come by later that week with muggle ice cream and elf-made wine, and checked in with a few of her father's business contacts, Klaus standing beside her in support as she thanked them for their sympathies and promised that she wouldn't slack on getting back to them on whatever they were working on.
"I'm so tired," Caroline whispered once they'd managed to get a moment to themselves lingering by one of the centerpieces on the edge of the event area, her words almost inaudible from how fiercely she was pressing her face against Klaus's shoulder to hide the tears she couldn't hold back any longer. "I want to go inside."
"I know, sweetheart," he said softly, his fingers carding through her hair, his other hand resting chastely on the small of her back. "We can leave, if you like. I'm sure that Jenna can get everyone ushered out properly within the hour. Or, if you don't want to leave it in her hands, I'm content to wait and get everyone out while you take a moment to collect yourself."
She sniffed, trying not to be embarrassed by her clogged nose and raw face, the way her undereyes felt scratchy. "You sure?"
"Of course, love," he said quickly, reassuring her. "Whatever you need."
She was tempted, the idea of a warm bed and a bit of dreamless sleep potion for a nap more than a little inviting, and Klaus reassured her that he'd take care of everything when she said so, his hand now making small circles on her lower back, making her melt against him. "Thanks," she whispered. "If you could just get everyone out-tell them I had work to get back to, or something-that would be great."
"Of course, sweetheart."
She waved her wand over her face to clear the remains of her tears and said her goodbyes to a few more people, keeping her demeanor appropriately somber but still cheerful, Klaus hovering beside her. When she finally stumbled into her bedroom twenty minutes later, she couldn't help but wonder whether she could have gotten through the day with anyone else by her side.
XXX
Caroline had barely been gone for five minutes when he heard her name being thrown out by Damon as he spoke to Camille by the buffet table. Klaus edged closer, frightening someone he vaguely recognized from Hogwarts with a stern glare and making his way close enough to hear the conversation with his heightened senses.
"It must be so hard for her," Camille was saying softly. "I'm sure she'll need some help, even if she's too proud to ask for it."
"And that's why taking over the company is for the best, Cami. I know she won't like it, but she'll see. She's grieving right now," Damon said patiently.
"Oh, Damon. I'm not sure. She seemed so set against giving up any of her control over it."
"You know Bar-Caroline, sweetie. She needs something to control to make herself feel better. She's a cleaning freak and color-codes everything. She'll just turn this into another coping mechanism and get lost in it. What if she gets depressed?"
"I guess that's true," Camille said, trailing off, clearly pulled in by Damon's fake therapy language.
"We have to let her have her grieving process. She won't ask for help, so we have to make sure she gets it. You care about her, so you know that. Just let me take some of her work off her hands. I want to make it easier for her to get through this hard time."
"You're so sweet to think of her," Camille said softly, standing on her toes to kiss her husband softly. "I love how much you care about my family."
Your family's money, perhaps, Klaus thought, already feeling anger churn within him at their audacity. Caroline didn't need help from such pathetic hangers-on. Not when she was alone, and especially now that she had him to help her. Did Damon truly believe that they'd let any of Caroline's hard-won accomplishments fall into his villainous hands?
Not if he could help it, and he doubted Caroline would object to letting Damon know exactly who was in charge of the family now.
And, no matter how much Caroline didn't want to believe it, Klaus had his suspicions about who killed Bill Forbes, and his list of suspects was one name long. If his theory was correct and he had his way, Damon Salvatore wouldn't live to see his son's first words.
XXX
"My lady?"
It took a few seconds to realize that Enzo was talking to her, and the grief hit her again that day. It seemed to always come whenever she looked at something that reminded her of her father, whether it was a knicknack or a picture or just momentarily forgetting that she couldn't send him a patronus if she needed something.
And now she was Lady of the Forbes family, officially. Even if she had a different name.
"You don't need to call me that. You've known me since I could walk, basically."
"Informality is a slippery slope," Enzo advised softly, nodding at the bodyguard down the hall. "D'you want him to think he has a right to call you by your name?"
Caroline pressed her lips together in a thin line. Ideally, yes. She would prefer it if people could call her Caroline. But old traditions were tricky, and a first-name-basis meant something. Enzo was her friend, but he was still a guard, just like the others. "You're right," she admitted, barely fighting off the urge to wrinkle her nose and forcing a smile on her face. "Sorry. What do you need?"
"Lord Mikaelson wants to see you in his study."
Her smile faltered. "Why?"
"He didn't say. Just told me to get you."
"He couldn't come himself?"
Enzo gave her a look of someone who was already up to here with exasperation levels and would really like her to play along.
"Okay. Lead the way."
She walked beside him to the other wing of the house where Klaus's study was, and Enzo knocked on the door.
"My Lord?" Enzo said, the words somehow dripping with resentment as he stood aside to let Caroline in.
"Thank you, Enzo," he said, waving him off. Caroline had a feeling that Klaus was only being polite because she was there, something she wasn't pleased about. You caught more flies with honey than vinegar, after all. And Enzo was her friend.
"You have to be nicer to him," Caroline said immediately once the door was closed, walking to sit on the chaise by the window. "Enzo's my friend."
His jaw tightened for the briefest moment before he relaxed, not that she was fooled by it. He was annoyed. Probably jealous, she thought with an internal eyeroll. Ugh.
"My apologies, love. I'll endeavor to be less hostile in the future."
"Less hostile sounds like a low bar," Caroline muttered, still scooting over to let Klaus sit beside her and not resisting when he pulled her into his lap, letting her cheek rest against his shoulder as he leaned back against the wall.
"Likely it is. Be patient with me, love. I'm unused to being accommodating of others' feelings."
"Bad excuse. Quit while you're behind," she advised, letting her eyes close.
"Very well, love."
"What did you want to talk to me about?"
"Elijah's finally found time to see us."
That explained why he hadn't told Enzo why he was calling her.
"When? I can clear my schedule."
"Three weeks or so. He'll be on a business trip to London, and I assured him that we'd have time to pop over for dinner."
"Okay," she said agreeably, shifting on Klaus's lap to get more comfortable and relaxing against him. "What does he know about us, again?"
"Just that we're married and that I met you at school. He doesn't ask many questions, likely hoping that I won't tell him anything he doesn't want to know. We tend to stick to safe topics."
"Like?"
"The news. The weather. Whether the food we're eating is subpar."
She giggled. "Okay, well hopefully I won't be too much of a shock to him."
"Elijah is nothing if not unflappable, I assure you."
"Good," she said, humming contentedly when Klaus pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. "Maybe I can meet your other siblings someday."
"Maybe."
When had she gotten so comfortable with Klaus's casual displays of affection? With him pulling her close and pressing his lips to her temple? She fit in his arms like she'd been made to perfectly rest against the angles of his body, and she couldn't help but sink into bliss when she curled up against him, feeling safe wrapped up in his scent and his touch.
"You know, when we got married I thought I was barely going to see you."
"I remember, love. I also recall informing you that I had some objections to that plan."
"Yeah, you did. I just didn't think you'd be this affectionate."
His thumb paused the casual trace of her ribs, and she felt him shift slightly. "Why?"
She couldn't quite read his tone, and it made her nervous.
"I don't know. Because like, you were basically a dictator at school. Everyone was scared of you. I don't remember you dating anyone seriously. You definitely had something to do with more than a few of the more dangerous incidents, no matter how much you try to deny it... You just seemed like...I don't know. Scary? Like a bit of a sadist?"
"I certainly never meant to scare you," he said slowly.
"You meant to scare everyone, Klaus. You wanted us all to fall in line."
"Not you," he repeated. "Why do you think I pursued your father for your hand? I fancied you."
She froze in his arms. "You what?"
"I fancied you," he repeated, and she shook her head, turning back over to look at him.
"No, about my dad."
He frowned. "Oh. I knew you were likely looking for a match and I also knew that if I approached you directly you'd not believe me."
"So you decided to trick my dad into marrying me off to you?"
"You make me sound so diabolical," he teased. "Yes, I suppose I did. I always wanted you, Caroline. You were so much more than a pretty face, and none of your silly boyfriends could see it. It rankled me."
"You shouldn't have gone behind my back," she muttered, trying to figure out why she wasn't annoyed with him. She should be. "My dad made it sound like he found you."
"No. I arranged a meeting with him under the guise of work. I volunteered for it, actually. I was hoping to get a moment to speak to you alone, but I was unsuccessful. I did manage to convince my boss to make me the first point of contact for your father, and things sort of unfolded from there. I gained his trust and managed to drop enough hints that he thought it was his own idea."
"That's manipulative."
"It worked. I have you now, don't I?"
She nodded without thinking about it, her hand drifting to her belly to close around where he was resting his palm against her skin. "Yeah. I should be mad, though. You totally manipulated him to get what you wanted."
"Does that surprise you?"
"Of course not. I don't know. I can't believe that you went to so much trouble just to marry me. That seems..."
"Out of character?" he suggested when she trailed off.
"Yeah."
"I told you, love. I fancied you."
"So this wasn't about my family's power? Or my money?" she asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.
"Both," Klaus admitted. "I've enjoyed you since school. I grew more fond of you in the last few years. Your power and influence would be useful to me, but it was more about you than anything else. I couldn't get you out of my head once we'd graduated."
"That's kind of creepy."
"Perhaps," he acknowledged. "But I still am. Fond of you."
"Thanks, I think?" she half-asked.
"And you, Caroline?"
She froze. "And me, what?"
"Do you feel the same?"
She rolled over the question in her head, her heart beating faster as she processed his question. "I..." she began, trying to sort out all of the mixed feelings she had. "I like you, Klaus. I don't mind being married to you."
"Don't mind?" he repeated, laughing quietly, his hand drifting down slightly. "I should hope you more than don't mind."
"Fine. I like it. Being married to you," she admitted, the confession not as grudging as she tried to make it seem to be. "But I'm not in love with you, or anything."
"Not yet."
"I mean, I guess it's possible it'll happen eventually," she hedged, knowing that if things continued as they were, it would happen sooner than eventually, no matter how much she tried to resist it.
And really, why was she even trying to resist it anymore?
"I intend to make sure of it," Klaus said softly, shifting behind her. She felt his lips press lightly against her temple, his arm tightening around her waist. They laid in silence for what felt like hours, the room growing steadily darker as the half-moon rose in the sky.
XXX
Klaus shut the door to the portkey gate behind him, resisting the urge to glower at the portkey attendant when she asked him to show his passport in case the news of his rudeness reached the press. During the period of their official engagement when he was still working for Flint-Avery, Caroline had warned (or complained to) him a few times about how the travel staff for the international portkey terminals were surprisingly gossipy. He wasn't in the habit of doubting her observations, she'd always been rather perceptive regarding everything but the depth of her own denial regarding her feelings for him.
Though he'd been unofficially integrated into the business starting a month or two before the wedding, he'd transitioned to working at Forbes, Inc. in an official capacity since a month after they'd gotten back from their honeymoon in early February, and it had only taken him one business trip to find out that, unsurprisingly, she'd been correct.
The staff seemed to have no scruples whatsoever about leaking whatever they saw to the press, and he had quite enough to do without damage control after an already trying work trip. A self-important Malfoy relative had appeared in a slyly taken photograph depicting his flushed face after his fourth firewhiskey, the other passengers looking at him with barely concealed horror. It had been on the front page of the gossip section of the Daily Prophet. Klaus had no desire to be there next.
He would have apparated straight home from Romania, but he was on publicly-known business, and if he didn't have a log on his passport for the trip it would look suspicious. He'd just taken a portkey from a meeting with a dealer of manticore eggs in Romania to London's international arrival hub with four other people, including an old man who kept sneezing on his suit jacket and a woman who was completely covered in cat hair. Didn't she know a basic scouring charm? He'd had to do several when he'd landed to get his suit clean. Caroline would be displeased if he'd arrived home like that, even if Jenna would have been able to solve it within a minute. He did enjoy her moods occasionally, but all he wanted at the moment was to reacquaint himself with her body after the last two weeks without her. He'd gotten used to her presence in his bed over the past few months, to watching her fall apart for him and feeling her touch, and if she was cross with him he'd have to wait to do it again.
He was not fond of waiting.
The walk to the apparition point felt too long now that he'd decided he couldn't wait to have her, the sounds of the muggle airplanes above-ground heavy in his ears. Caroline had occupied his thoughts often for the past two weeks, as she had since he'd decided she'd be his, particularly when he was alone at night. It was torture trying to remember the specific soft scent of the lotion she used and how the heat of her skin felt when it was pressed against his front, the exact way that the curve of her waist perfectly cradled his arm when it was wrapped around her body. He'd stroked his cock thinking of her beneath him, wished that it was her delicate hand wrapped around him as she watched him eagerly for reactions rather than his own trying to replicate the perfect slide of her palm against his shaft.
His fantasies had begun to spin themselves in raunchier ways too, the longer he'd been gone. He'd thought about her bent over with her forehead touching the floor in a bow, her arse up in the air as she trembled in anticipation, her pussy growing wet at the knowledge that his palm was about to stain her skin at any moment. He imagined her begging for him as she writhed against gentle touches from his fingers, her hands tied above her head the way she'd teased him so mercilessly the first time he'd caught her touching herself.
He felt a wave of jealousy hit him again, as it always did when he remembered her taunts about her previous lovers. He vaguely knew of Matt Donovan, that he was in the department of games and sports at the ministry, but now he knew too much, and a large part of him craved knowing that he was dead. The idea of Caroline, his wife, moaning for anyone but him, begging anyone but him for a touch, made his skin heat with rage. He knew logically that it wasn't her fault. She hadn't known then that she was his. How could she have anticipated? But just the thought of her with anyone else made the wolf in him claw at his insides to show her how good he could make her feel so that she'd never want to leave.
As if he'd ever let her.
When he finally arrived at the apparition point, he turned on his heel and disappeared with a whisper of air, reappearing just inside the front door of the house. He'd been strictly forbidden from apparating straight into their bedroom lest he give Caroline a fright, a rule that she'd insisted he agree to after he'd surprised her by appearing behind her and she'd tried to jinx him before she realized who it was. She never would have hit him, his reflexes were too good for that, but he'd indulged her worries for his safety and promised that he'd try his best not to startle her.
He set down his things for Jenna to take away and set out to find his wife. He found her in the sitting room curled up with a book, the silk of one of the short robes that she wore to cover her nightclothes riding up her thigh to expose a hint of lace underneath. She didn't look up when he entered, likely lost in whatever she was doing, her hair gathered over one shoulder to reveal the creamy skin of her neck, a blank canvas for the red marks he planned to leave on her with his teeth. He'd spent days missing the taste of her, and it took all of his self control not to just rip the book out of her hand and take her lips with his.
"Caroline," he interrupted, his voice rough.
She looked up from her book with a smile, setting her book on the side table and standing up, drawing his eyes to the lace hem of the slip she wore under her robe swishing around her thighs. "You're back," she said happily, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him. "How did it go?"
He ignored her question, too focused on how soft she was against him, the scent of her hair, the way the silk felt when it brushed against his arms. He wanted her. Now.
"We'll talk about it later," he said, pulling back and pressing his lips to hers, satisfied when she immediately melted against him with a soft sigh. He nibbled on her lower lip, rubbing the hem of her slip between his fingers before settling his palms on the back of her thighs, lifting her easily and grinning against her mouth when she let out a soft squeak of surprise when her feet left the floor.
"Klaus!" she protested, pulling her lips from his, her hands curled on his shoulders to keep her balance. "What are you doing?"
"Taking you to bed," he said, pressing kisses to her neck, his voice muffled against her skin. "I need you."
She laughed, her nails digging into his skin as she wriggled in his arms. "I can't go upstairs. I have reading to do."
"Fine," he said, setting her down. "Bend over the coffee table, then."
She raised an eyebrow at the order, though he could see her swallow, her tongue darting over her lips. "Seriously?"
"Now, Caroline," he said softly, fighting down a small smirk as she went slightly pink, her teeth sinking into her lower lip.
"You can't wait?" she asked, even as she began to turn.
"You don't seem opposed," he pointed out, already reaching for the collar of her robe. He intended to help pull it down her arms but she was already bent over, and she couldn't be too upset with him if he ripped it, could she?
"Klaus! That robe was discontinued last Spring!"
"I'll mend it," he promised, bending over her to press a kiss to the back of her neck as he hooked his fingers in the lace of her panties, pulling them down her legs and kneeling behind her, his thumbs pressing into the flesh of her ass, grinning when she squirmed against his touch.
"I've been thinking about this for two weeks," he said, his voice rough as he spoke between kisses to the backs of her thighs, his hands pressing against her legs to encourage her to part them. "I spent every night craving you beneath me, moaning my name."
"Not above you?" she teased, and he laughed quietly, savoring her shiver when his breath hit her sensitive folds.
"I wouldn't object. I'd love to watch you play with your breasts as you roll your hips against my cock. I've yet to convince you to show me exactly how you like to be touched, and I'd love nothing more than to see it while I fill you."
"We can do that."
"Some other time," he promised, bending forward to flick his tongue against her entrance as he unbuckled his belt, grinning at her breathy moan. "If you don't want this ripped as well, take it off."
She shot him an exasperated look over her shoulder but pulled the slip over her head, letting it fall to the couch cushions and leaving her bare to him. He stood, taking his time admiring her bent over for him, her legs spread. "So pretty, love," he complimented, unable to resist stroking himself a few times as he watched her rub her thighs together to ease the ache between them. He pressed a finger inside of her as he did so to make sure she was wet, grinning when he found her soaking.
They both groaned when he pushed inside of her, his hands finding her hips to brace himself as he began to move. He was still learning her body, familiarizing himself with her tells and tics, the places she liked his fingers and tongue the most. His head dropped forward as he moved slowly, savoring the feel of her around him. "You feel amazing, sweetheart," he said, his voice raspy. "So perfect around me. I've been waiting for this for weeks."
"Yeah?" she asked, slightly breathless.
"Yes. I've been thinking about all the ways I'll reacquaint myself with your body. I've thought extensively about the little preferences I've discovered. I remember the charm you had on when I found you writhing against that toy in our bed. Did you like the way the sheets smelled like me, love? I remember you moaning my name. Were you imagining me fucking you into our mattress? Tell me."
"Yes," Caroline gasped out, her knuckles white as she clutched the table rim.
"Good girl. You seem to like it when I draw things out. When I bring you to the edge of what you can take but stop just before you reach your high? You like that, don't you?'
"Yes."
"I can't wait to pull you into my lap after I've come inside of you. I'll toy with your clit until your eyes glaze over and you're writhing against my fingers before I stop. I'm looking forward to denying you that last touch until you're desperate. Until you beg for it."
She nodded frantically, her hair falling in a curtain around her face as she moaned his name, her walls fluttering around his cock. He sped up his movements, his hand slipping beneath her to rub her clit the way he'd found she liked. Her breathing was ragged as she moved against him, whimpering, desperate for any friction he could give her.
"You're perfect, sweetheart," he gasped out, the feel of her tightening around him when he moved almost too much. He came with a curse, his nails biting into her hips, pulling her into his lap when he sat back on the couch as he'd promised. He arranged her to straddle him, his fingers tangling in her curls while the other worked between her legs, his thumb circling her clit while three fingers curled against her walls, his come and her wetness making it easy to move in quick thrusts.
She moaned loudly, and he shushed her, not letting his movements falter. "Now, love. We don't want to let the servants know what we're getting up to, do we? Or perhaps you do. Do you want to be walked in on? For someone to come in and watch, fascinated as you writhe on my lap, just a brush against your clit away from screaming my name and coming around my fingers? Do you want them to see you weak and needy for me, clutching my shoulders and helpless against my touch?"
His rough tone seemed to do it for her, something he noted when he felt her clench down around his fingers. She gasped out his name as she came before her teeth sank into his shoulder to stifle the noise. The burst of pain made him groan as he plucked at her clit to extend her high, her body going limp against him after she was done, a soft sigh of contentment escaping her.
"That was..." Caroline breathed, practically letting herself sink into him, her face buried in his shoulder so that the next word was muffled. "Amazing."
"You liked it?" he murmured, adjusting her on his lap so that he could press soft kisses to her neck, nipping at the base of it where her throat met her shoulder, sucking a mark that he hoped would stay for a day, at least. "Which part?"
She flushed, likely not just from the way he was touching her.
"I don't know. I like it when you're a little rougher, I guess," she hedged, apparently not wanting to admit what it was about what they'd done that turned her on. He had a feeling it was the possessiveness and the dirty talk. He'd noticed before how her eyes darkened when he spoke of owning and taking, the way that she melted when he whispered how much he liked that she was his in her ear. She clearly wasn't as opposed to his wolf's tendencies as she liked to pretend.
"Well, I suppose I won't be the only one who likes full moons, then."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He leaned back to look her in the eye, grinning when she shifted on top of him, blushing. "My appetites tend to be higher around the moon. My senses are also sharper. It's easier to hear distant sounds or detect scents."
He fought down a smile as it dawned on her what he was implying, the flush creeping up her face. "Oh," she squeaked.
"Indeed."
"That explains a lot, actually," she muttered. "You get a little rougher around the full moon, and you get all...touchy."
"Touchy?" he asked, grinning.
"Yeah. And like, as a side note," she began, shifting on top of him, her pussy sliding against his half hard cock in a way that made him groan. "Sorry."
"No, it's fine, love. What were you saying?"
"Just that like... I just want to make sure you know that being wolfy isn't an excuse for being aggressive with me. Or snippy."
"Of course not, love. Have I been? I was under the impression that you were enjoying it."
"I mean, yes. It was good. But just for future reference. For non-sex stuff."
"I'll keep it in mind. And do you like it for sex?" he asked, pleased at the pretty flush staining her cheeks, the way she so clearly was fighting with herself because of her temptation to give herself to him completely.
"It's fine in small doses," she said, the small smirk on her lips showing she wasn't as opposed as she was purporting to be. "But don't get too crazy. Okay?"
"I won't, sweetheart. I'll make sure you enjoy every moment."
Thank you so much for reading! I would love for you guys to review and tell me if you had any favorite lines or scenes. Any predictions? Hopes for the next few chapters? How was the smut? Again, thank you for hanging in there with me re: the update schedule. Hopefully I'll see you guys next week!
