Dangerous Liaisons
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She looks at her phone from under the hotel room dining table with a frown.
Her gaze immediately snaps upwards to stare at the slightly hunched form sitting across from her.
Kai's focus is lowered and glued to something below the table with a lopsided grin plastered onto his face.
Her green eyes narrow and the crooked frown on her face deepens.
"Really?"
"What?"
Kai finally looks up at her, face swirling with confusion. His grin dies as he takes in her unamused expression, but his eyes still twinkle with excess mirth.
"You made a twitter account?"
The smile he had been sporting earlier springs back onto his face in such a prompt manner that it almost makes her want to roll her eyes. He tosses his phone onto the glossy hotel table and leans back in his chair to better settle his full attention on her. His burgundy long sleeve shirt stretches itself across the expanse of his chest.
"Actually I made one the minute I got out of '94 the first time, I just never followed you until right now."
She snorts a bit to herself then, though everything within her is telling her that everything about this situation is wholeheartedly unfunny.
She hadn't even thought about using any form of social media since freshman year of high school. It seemed so unimportant in retrospect. It is somehow onbrand that Kai's first priority upon achieving freedom would be to download something as nonquivical as twitter.
She settles on shaking her head at him, but is halted by a stinging pain traveling up the cartilage of her neck.
Malcolm had really done a number on her.
It had been a few days, but she was still reaping the soreness and painful aches of his suffocating magic. Kai had offered her some of his blood to heal the cuts and likely hairline fractures she'd endured, but she'd refused, opting to heal the old fashioned way. She wasn't going to take any chances.
"I could massage it, if you want."
The "No Thanks" is on the tip of her tongue, fully ready to spill out to halt whatever possibility there is of her letting him voluntarily touch her, but she feels that sharp stinging pain again, this time, a dull throb in the junction connecting her neck to her shoulder. She inhales sharply to prevent herself from crying out, and ignores the way Kai's eyes widen before pinning a pointed look at her.
She sighs. She can already hear the impending argument suspended in the air between them.
"Okay, okay fine."
She doesn't give herself the chance to wonder why she's given in so easily before he readily and noisily scoots his chair from the table, the jarring screech causing her to grimace as he eagerly walks to stand behind her chair. She stares at the half-eaten eggs benedict on her plate, suddenly no longer hungry; her stomach now in knots.
He places his hands on her shoulders first. She's wearing a shirt, but she still feels the undead warmth of the pads of his finger tips pressing themselves deep into her skin. The magic within her flares to reach the surface, almost as if trying to claw its way to the place of contact. Maybe to better reach the familiar hum of his Gemini magic swirling around her.
Her stomach coils at the acknowledgement that his magic is now familiar to hers.
He slowly moves his hands in an up and down motion around her shoulder blades. He's not actually massaging her, he's more like rubbing his palms against her shirt, and she's about to snap at him for getting sidetracked from what he's really here to do, when two fingers suddenly raise to dig around each side of her throat.
When he starts kneading the tender skin of her neck, it feels good. Almost too good.
She feels the moan bubbling in her throat, it's startling presence is hot and heady. But she swallows it down as his fingers press and massage skillfully through her tender skin. Her eyes slip shut, and her teeth draw her lower lip into her mouth instead.
She's so distracted that she almost doesn't notice when he presses his nose against the bulging vein in her neck.
It's such a gentle, harmlessly soft pressure that she almost doesn't think anything of it, but then she feels him slide the bridge of his nose down the artery in a way that contains such a jarringly possessive edge, that her coiled stomach drops, and her magic jumps beneath her pulse.
Her eyes immediately snap open.
The accusatory question is dangling on the tip of her tongue, but is halted once she feels a pair of lips just barely ghost over the soft skin where her neck meets her shoulder blade, and in doing so foraging an embarrassingly violent path of goosebumps in his wake.
She lurches away from him.
Her stomach twists with that familiar awful heat she had been so desperate to dispel the last time he had gotten too close. Her chair screeches itself away from his cajoling fingers, heart pounding so loudly she can feel it pulsing into a headache right in the center of her forehead.
Her wide eyes stare suspiciously at the amusement plastered cleanly across his face.
"Sorry," he says in a tone and an expression that tells her that he is anything but, "I couldn't help myself. Your perfume smells amazing by the way. Is that jasmine?"
"No it's—" It's vanilla, she wants to say, but she feels so flustered and perturbed that the word sticks to the roof of her mouth and is unable to force its way out. This—her becoming so easily flustered and off balanced—causes her to pause, and to wonder why she's even indulging in him in the first place.
"Nevermind. Just—thanks, I guess."
"No problem. What are friends for?"
The way he emphasizes the word friend and additionally points a blunt look at her tells her that he is daring her to challenge his wording.
It's a trap, she knows. A sly reference to the time she told him not to get the wrong idea about the nature of their relationship. Because while she can't exactly say that they were mere acquaintances, they were still way past that point in their utterly fucked relationship. And yet, they're still not friends, not exactly, but admitting that out loud would mean admitting that they were something other than a harmless platonic relationship...
Which she was not going to do. So no, she simply returns his smug grin with a sardonic smile of her own, her attention focusing again on her eggs benedict while simultaneously working on getting her heart rate back to normal.
Her phone buzzes against the glossy table, disturbing her attempt at feigning composure.
She quickly grabs her phone, finding that the message is from Caroline asking to meet up with her and Stefan at the Grille. It looks like they're finally ready to take some sort of substantial action towards their current predicament.
"I uh...gotta go."
She's already getting up and sort of mourning the fact that she didn't get the chance to finish her breakfast when Kai's tentative voice is stopping her.
"Where?" He asks softly, almost timidly, like he doesn't want to inconvenience her.
She pauses as she takes in the contradictory intent stare he's fascening to her, knowing she won't be getting out so easy.
She lets out a puff of air, before forcing her voice to take on a light casualness to mask her real cautiousness.
"Well considering the Heretics took it upon themselves to move into the boarding house in retaliation for Matt and Caroline blowing up their only place of residence…"
Her eyes shift around the room a bit, suddenly not wanting to make eye contact.
"We're meeting at the Grille."
.
.
He wants to tell her.
In that moment, watching her shift her footing nervously and biting those plump lips of hers, while she awkwardly tries to tiptoe over the fact that the Heretics have now taken over her original place of brainstorming, he wants to tell her.
He really wants to tell her that the real reason the Heretics are taking retaliation is because they think that Damon killed Malcolm, but he decides to wait.
Mainly because he knows for certain that she feels inherently awkward discussing her predicament with him, especially because it is directly traceable to him.
Not that she knows exactly how traceable it is.
But he wants to bask in it, because for once, she's the nervous one.
But even still, the fact that she had told him where she was going was good enough for him, and from the steady beat of her heart rate, he can tell she's not lying.
So he doesn't say anything, simply nods to himself and watches her leave his presence for her friends.
.
.
"We have a plan."
Stefan wastes no time with dalliances the minute Bonnie slides into the booth at the Grille.
"—Well, another one."
She doesn't miss the way that Stefan chances a quick glance at Caroline, whose jean-jacket-clad shoulder is curiously pressed against his.
"Liv says that her and Jo are still looking around the Gemini compound for the ascendant, but their search has been a bit delayed, what with the coven's affinity for cloaking and all—but we've decided, instead of sitting and waiting for them to find it, we need to take more action against the Heretics."
Caroline sets her drink down, Bonnie can't help but notice that she's still sitting unusually close to Stefan, but she decides that she's more concerned about the worry lines plastered across the blonde's forehead.
"We already know from Enzo's slip up that the Heretics are planning something, with some sort of stone, and though we don't know what it does yet, it can't be good."
"The point is," Stefan finishes for Caroline, "we need to know everything they're planning. We need some sort of way to stop whatever they're trying to do."
Bonnie nods to herself. She knows that they didn't call her all the way down here just to play devil's advocate for some theoretical plan to stop the Heretics. They clearly wanted something from her.
"Okay... so, what do you need me to do?"
Caroline glances nervously at Stefan, giving him a look that causes Bonnie's own forehead to crinkle contemplatively.
"Right now, you're the closest to the source. Lily refuses to even speak with Damon or Stefan after the whole 'blow up plan', Enzo is still God knows where, but you, and Kai—"
"—What about me and Kai?" Bonnie grits out despite herself.
Caroline has the gall to look exasperated.
"Oh come on, Bonnie. He's like, obsessed with you. All we'd need to do is use you as blackmail and I bet you he'd tell us everything."
Bonnie scoffs.
Of course he wouldn't tell her anything, Kai's too smart for that, and he's not 'obsessed' with her, he just has a misplaced infatuation.
Yeah, maybe if she keeps telling herself that, her begrudging dread will finally dissipate.
"Please tell me you guys have another plan, some sort of fail safe in the case that this whole blackmail and prison world trap doesn't work out."
Caroline swallows hard then, and chances yet another nervous glance at Stefan who this time, doesn't meet her gaze.
"Well... kinda. That was um, actually the main reason why we called you here."
Caroline clears her throat again.
"The originals. Or more so Klaus for that matter..."
Bonnie's eyes narrow at the name.
"I uh, spoke with him, and he said that he and his siblings may come to help, mainly because he sees the Heretics as a threat—can't have a supernatural being possibly more powerful than a hybrid, right?"
Caroline laughs nervously, while Stefan finds a sudden interest in twirling his finger around the black straw of his drink.
"You spoke to Klaus?"
Bonnie tried to dampen the hysterical lilt clinging to her words, but if Caroline's flinch was anything to go by, she failed miserably.
Even still, Caroline steals herself and leans closer to Bonnie, possibly in an attempt to calm Bonnie's surfacing nerves.
"Yes, I did. And he actually said that if or when he returns to Mystic Falls, he wants to hold some sort of welcome gala, you know to suss out the 'competition' in an inconspicuous fashion."
That...sounds like Klaus.
"But before that, we'd like to know what the Heretics are planning for us, and Mystic Falls...and that's where you and Kai come in."
Stefan has finally abandoned his drink to settle his hazel eyes on Bonnie. Bonnie merely arches an eyebrow as Stefan too inches closer to her, as if wanting to keep their conversation as decrepit as possible.
"Can I ask you something?" Bonnie nods, not quite liking the somber shadow that has spread across Stefan's face.
"Has Kai ever... bitten you?"
"What? Of course not."
She's even more incredulous at the question than she had been at the fact that Caroline had been in contact with Klaus.
She's trying to work out why Stefan would even ask her, when she realizes that Caroline and Stefan don't really know what Kai is like in his vampiric state. They don't know how...reserved he's been.
None of them do, besides her.
"Hmm… so you've never seen him transform or anything around you? Not even a fang or two?"
"No...not once," she mutters, trailing off.
Because the more she thinks of it, the more off putting she considers that notion. Kai is intelligent and calculated, but she's seen him blow up, become overly consumed in emotion; she had seen it once when she'd sent Miss Cuddles back, and again when she'd refused to listen to his heartfelt apology. And yet as of recently, she's never seen him lose grip on his emotions. Not towards vampiric capacities, at least.
Stefan sits back, suddenly not looking so somber anymore.
"And there's our in. Damon and I have been thinking—"
"Damon? Thinking?"
She can't help herself. She also can't help the bad taste in her mouth at the thought of Damon and Stefan talking about her and Kai behind her back.
"—And we think we may have the perfect blackmail plan," Stefan glances back at Caroline who nods reassuringly, clearly Caroline had been previously debriefed as well.
"Do you know anything about cloaking spells, illusions, or anything of that nature? Or anyone you could talk to in person about it?"
You mean besides Kai?
But then it dawns on her. She knows the perfect witch.
"Yes, actually."
"Perfect."
When Stefan finishes outlining the rest of the intricacy of the blackmail plan, she's left feeling extremely skeptical, to say the least.
It was one of those plans that might just work in their favor, but was always teetering on the cusp of blowing up in their faces.
But she had to try.
The plan in of itself made sense.
Though she thinks that both Stefan and Caroline (and Damon for that matter, since he was involved) may be overexaggerating her pull over Kai.
If he had cared about her so much, something tells her that he wouldn't have tried to kill her at the wedding hall in the first place.
But things are different now, she reminds herself.
She can't so naively ignore the looks he vulnerably places on her when he thinks she isn't looking. Nor can she brush off the recent occurrence in which she is so easily able to bend and meld his behavior towards herself through her own actions.
She'll end up hurting him in the end of it all, she knows.
She had been trying to avoid doing so ever since she'd shipped herself and stripped her freedoms to be with him, but she's been walking on eggshells for too long.
Because first and foremost, she wants her friends safe from the Heretics, and if that means blackmailing and hurting Kai in the process, then so be it.
It's a sacrifice she's willing to take.
.
.
Damon Salvatore has been talking to her a lot about Elena.
They're currently at her dorm at Whitemore, Damon tossing his blue camaro's car keys in his hand as he lays in her bed, while Bonnie flips through her Grimoire after grabbing a few more articles of clothing from her drawers into her bag, including an expensive ball gown she was supposed to wear for her high school graduation dinner that she'd never gotten to use (you know, due to the fact that she was technically dead at the time).
She's been hanging around Damon a lot as of lately. His presence calms her, he's familiar, and ever since he had actually come to rescue her from Kai's clutches in the aftermath of Jo's wedding, she knows that he is somebody she can depend on.
She never thought, however, that her newly found friendship with the older vampire would also have her taking on the role of relationship counselor, but she was, apparently.
And she doesn't want to admit it to herself, but she's actually become more partial to Damon than to the woman who she had once considered her sister.
Damon and Elena's relationship, it seems, isn't as epic or romantic as either of them had made it out to be.
Damon's frustrated, about that, and the fact that Stefan refuses to tell him anything regarding his newly budding relationship with Caroline.
But nothing, Bonnie has discovered, makes Damon Salvatore more irritated than when acknowledging Bonnie's relationship with a certain siphoner. It is as if the thought of Kai makes him physically ill, and Bonnie honestly cannot blame him.
She notices Damon absentmindedly rub at a spot on his rib cage through his tirade of not being able to be the 'perfect' boyfriend for Elena. It seems as though Malcolm had also done his damage towards Damon, hitting him with some sort of spell that had caused blood to spill profusely from his wound. In the aftermath, after Bonnie had hauled his body back to the boarding house, the amount of blood Damon had been losing had been horrifying, she's only thankful that his vampiric healing had helped stem the flow, though not completely.
Through Damon's rant, and as she watches his face twist and his plump lips dip downwards at the consequent mention of Kai, her mind suddenly drifts towards the Heretic in question.
She is startled by how different Damon and Kai are.
Both Damon and Kai look at her with the same level of intensity; their icey eyes burn through her skin in the same fashion. Their anger and emotion can be felt ruminating from miles away, their smirks flash dangerously and calmly. And yet they could not be more different. As of lately, she's received kind, docile and coaxing touches from Kai, while Damon grips and presses, and halts her movement with a firm finality.
"...And trust me Bon, don't hold back with him. Kai could burn in hell for all I care."
Bonnie prevents herself from saying that Kai curiously feels the exact same way about him.
She has a feeling that wouldn't help anything.
The worn page of her Grimoire stops and stays folded on just the page she was looking for. When she sees the spell she's looking for, she's reminded all too quickly of the last time she had meddled in something so dark, can almost feel the phantom spirit of a 100 dead witches swirling against the pages, as if warning her to turn back. But it's too late. She knows the spell, her fingers run across the yellowed page in a whispered familiarity, and she's brought back to that night so many years ago when her body had fallen on the cold ground of the cafeteria in 80's garb.
She's danced across the fine line between life and death so many times before, that she doesn't even blink when she confirms with Damon that they have the plan almost ready.
She thinks that maybe it's because she's been broken so many times before, and she's surer, she's more certain than ever that she will not be the one to hurt in the end.
"I just have to talk to an old friend beforehand to get some help and then we should be good to go."
"And you're sure you're okay with this? I mean it's some pretty dark stuff Bon, some pretty dark magi—"
She wants to snap back at him then, on reflex, because he had never cared about her over-exerting herself back when she had been spiraling into Expression magic or really, any time before that.
But she doesn't.
She's not so naive enough to not know what she can and can't handle anymore, she's regressed beyond the point of not caring or taking precautions for her own life.
"—I'll be fine, Damon. I know what I'm doing. And I am not about to let Kai get the better of me. Not this time around."
She finally sets the Grimoire down and sits down next to him on her cramped dorm bed and he finally stops fiddling with his keys. She watches wide eyed as Damon gives her another one of those intense stares, the one that seems like he is tracing every detail etched into her face.
She thinks she may have just been seeing things when his gaze flickers quickly to her mouth before he turns away from her completely.
She grips at his leather clad sleeve to turn his attention back towards her. Steadying herself against his firm, rock-like stature as she gets these next words out.
"And after—"
She swallows hard, not quite trusting herself to get the words out the way she wants them to.
And though the conviction she feels is the same, the words for some reason taste differently on her lips, dirtier.
"—After we get the information we need, we kill him."
.
.
She receives an alert on her cellphone from Caroline, telling her to look out for a fancy gala mail invitation from Klaus, as he has already started sending them, despite not even stepping foot in Mystic Falls yet.
It looks like their plan is finally beginning to fall into place, she just needs to do her part.
She scrolls downwards and the name "Lucy Bennett" flashes promptly on her phone screen the minute she exits the seedy Grille and into the broad sunlight.
"What do you know about cloaking spells?"
.
.
Kai's not at the Heretic mansion on his own volition, but mainly because he needs to report back something to Lily about the supposed 'progress' he's making with discovering Bonnie's plan.
And he's fully ready too, has the whole extrapolated lie ready and poised to spill from his lips, but the minute he walks in, Lily is already in the middle of her own extrapolation.
She's currently speaking on something a bit more...pressing.
He's only heard the tail end of her sentence as he's entering, but it's enough for the easy smile on his face to falter.
"—And so we'll kill them, of course."
"Nice!" Kai steps into the room, his grin returning and consequently spreading wider when he sees Nora pinch the bridge of her nose from her perch on Mary-Louise's chair, "Who exactly are we killing?"
"Oh, Kai! You're finally here. We were just discussing our arrangements for expunging Damon and the...others."
And normally, Kai would be ecstatic over a plot to eradicate every last person living in Mystic Falls, but his chest tightens at the notion regardless.
He's about to respond, not particularly certain that anything of substance will follow, when he notices another vampire sitting amongst the group of Heretics. He's donning a leather jacket and slicked back black hair coupled with a jaded stare. He seems fairly old, but if the stinginess of his aura was anything to go by, then he wasn't as old as the rest of the Heretics.
Kai's gonna take a wild guess and assume that this man is the Lorenzo guy Lily had been orating about earlier.
"Once Julian and Oscar start to gain their strength back, we'll have ample power to avenge dear Malcolm, and resiege the rest of Mystic Falls."
He hears Enzo scoff at the mention of Julian, and the petulant look that's suddenly swarmed his expression causes Kai's eyebrow to quirk upwards.
It looks like Lily Salvatore didn't need to exploit him as her own personal devoted lapdog, she appeared to already have her own.
"Oh and Enzo," Lily directs her attention to the younger vampire, entirely ignoring his change in demeanor, "make sure the phoenix stone is being kept somewhere safe, because while we have no further use for it, we do not want others knowing of our possession of it."
Kai decides to step in after Enzo does nothing more than obstinately stare at a clearly oblivious Lily, by clearing his throat obnoxiously enough to startle both of their gazes onto him.
"Just to be clear, this little murdering, revenge spree is not including Bonnie, right?"
Lily's eyebrows raise as she turns back to Kai, her face taking on one of those "politely inconvenienced" looks, while Kai's lighthearted expression hardens the longer it takes for her to gather words.
"O-of course. Bonnie will be exempt, if and only if you do not alert her of our plan. But after all, she is solely your liability, and if she chooses to get in our way, you will be responsible for getting her out of it."
Kai shrugs.
It seemed fair enough. He honestly couldn't give a flying shit about what Lily Salvatore did to the rest of the Mystic Falls gang—she could fry Damon's eyeballs in a pot of boiling piss for all he cared.
As long as they didn't touch Bonnie.
Something about the idea of Bonnie getting hurt deeply unsettles and uproots him to an inherent discomfort. The anxiousness he feels festering and pulling in his gut is all too palpably similar to how he used to feel about himself when his semblance was on the line.
There's a possessiveness there, but it mostly gives way to fear. His fingers practically itch with the need to be near her.
He'll make sure to hold her extra tight when he gets to spoon her tonight.
He's about to move to finally seat himself after Lily soothes his more prominent worry when another issue latches quickly onto the back of his mind.
"Oh and one more thing. While this is going down, you won't tell Bonnie that I'm in on this right? I mean, not that it really matters, but I just wanna make it seem like it's all out of my hands when it does happen."
You know, so she won't hate me, he wants to add, but he's pretty sure the rest of the Heretics are perfectly capable of reading between the lines.
Lily smiles at that, and Kai deliberately ignores a loud sigh drifting from behind him that he knows came from Nora.
"Of course. As long as everything goes as planned, you should have nothing to worry about."
And that, he decides, was good enough for him.
.
.
It turns out that Lucy Bennett knows virtually nothing about cloaking spells, as they are a Gemini coven speciality.
However, luckily for her, Lucy does seem to know a bit about locator blocking spells, masking and disappearance spells, as she'd had to use them through her dalliances with Kathrine Pierce.
So when Lucy explains it all to her, it all feels a bit more complicated than what she's used to. The Gemini way is straightforward and succinct, but since she's not a Gemini, there are a few work arounds needed.
And it's not quite what Stefan had in mind, but it's close enough.
So she goes into the notes section of her cellphone and writes down the additional spell she'll need, and pushes the door to her hotel suite open.
And as her luck will have it, she's just in time for dinner.
.
.
It isn't until after they've settled into bed, and he's slotted himself against her, in which she notices something different.
It's not the soft light of the moon peeking through the hotel curtains that causes a trail of goosebumps to run down her spine.
It's him.
There's something more… urgent about the way he holds her this time. His hand curls around her tighter, the pads of his fingers press tensely through the thin material of her sleep tank top, as if he's worried that she'll somehow slip from his grasp.
She notices all of this, so she's not sure why she does what she does next.
She should be concerned about the fact that he's being more overbearing than usual, but there's something pulling her to him, that same something buried and deep within her that had latched selfishly onto the intimacy he's been consistently showing her.
So despite her better judgement, she places her own palm on top of his.
And the skin to skin contact of her hand against his cooler one shouldn't feel so...nice. But it does.
She feels him let out a shaky exhale, the warm breath puffing against the tender skin of her neck. She feels on edge, and somehow placated at the same time. She doesn't know why she chose to reciprocate his affections, her brain feels stunted and distracted by the cool feel of his palms.
It's not until he starts rubbing his palm against her stomach, in soft gentle movements, when the alarm bells go off. This is where she normally would yank herself away from him, away from a touch that feels too good to be right.
But she doesn't. She can't, not when her tank top starts to ride up and his flat palm seeks a place on the naked skin. Not when his ringed fingers deftly move to press against her bare hip bone as similarly and expertly as the way he'd pressed them into her neck just this morning.
"W-what are you doing?"
She says it because someone needs to.
There's something binding her in place, keeping her from pulling herself out of his orbit, from his cool hands and swirling Gemini magic. She couldn't physically find the will in her to pull herself from him, but she thought that maybe, her voicing the extremity of him veering off their 'just friends' mandate would shake some sense into the both of them.
Instead it does neither.
Instead, his ringed fingers press and rub, still in that gentle manner, but this time they crawl underneath the slope of her stomach, just barely brushing the hem of her shorts.
Instead, she feels that churning warmth begin low in the pit of her stomach, where his hand traces,
A liquid velvet voice slithers a chill down her back.
"Have I ever told you about the first time I saw you?"
She says nothing, she's too afraid to, as his hand continues to crawl in circles on top of the vulnerable skin of her lower abdomen.
Her throat has gone dry, her magic and heart throb in tangent with one another.
And then despite herself, the magic flares and rises to meet his in answer, spurring him to continue in that same velvety drawl.
"I mean, I guess I actually felt you first. It was like this large presence just pulling me by the gut. But I recognized what it was immediately. Bennett magic is just so...addicting."
She doesn't know why she allows his hand to just barely flirt and tease along the slope of her pelvis, or why she doesn't stop his trailing finger from just barely dipping below the thin lace of her underwear.
They haven't crossed the line yet, she tries to remind herself, except the slick moisture gathering between her thighs and the way her heart flutters hotly in her chest tells her otherwise.
She wants to scream at him, she feels the familiar outrage at the inappropriateness blooming in her chest, except it's all ripped from her the minute his nose presses deeply into the back of her neck, inhaling her essence like a bloodhound.
She's never felt more severely wanted in her life, the thought makes her heart skip over itself.
And she's suddenly afraid. Not because she thinks he's going to bite her, but that he's going to consume her in her entirety.
She lets out a sharp inhale when his fingers dip just slightly lower, and another inhale when she comes to the startling realization that it's not enough.
She knows she wants more despite everything else screaming at her not to.
She almost wants to protest, her eyes snap open in frustration, and as if sensing her slip up, Kai chuckles lightly against her skin.
"And then I saw you. I mean really saw you. I was practically a husk of a person at that point. But there you were, a holy vision in a grocery store in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia, in those tight overalls with your damned magic tugging me so hard it was near nauseating."
She takes in a sharp breath when his fingers finally dip past her underwear, she feels the cool metal of his rings press against her cervix bone first, and then the rest of his fingertips settle themselves almost too easily onto the sensitive nub of her clit.
She wants to cry out at the sheer unbridled satisfaction of the sensation. Of him finally giving her some of the friction she had been begrudgingly yearning for since that night in their hotel room where he'd pressed his entire being against her.
But she holds herself back, for her own sanity.
"There's a reason why I waited four months before showing myself to you, Bon. I had to learn what it was like to be human again," He starts rubbing her clit in slow circles, in the same gentle motion he had on her stomach, "I had to become civilized."
And she should be more ashamed, be more skeptical of the way his seductive murmurings are able to slither themselves so easily and settle straight into her core, but she's not. Instead, her breath hitches when he uses the palm that's cupping her to press her backside firmly into the very prominent bulge in his pajama pants.
She bites her lip in an earnest attempt to dampen the stuttered whimper that releases from her throat, to no avail.
"The first thing I wanted to do was siphon you. Just get my hands around you and suck every last drop of that burning Bennett magic from your skin. But I decided to hold off. I needed time to gather myself. And so I watched you and Damon obsessively, but mostly you."
His voice becomes more airy towards the end of his sentence, his hips now pushing and thrusting steadily against her ass. His fingers begin to rub her with a franticness that causes the growing wetness between her thighs to smear across her skin.
"And while I waited to make my appearance, I thought about a lot of fucked up things, Bonnie," her eyes slip shut, "Things that I'd do to you."
His voice turns dark, but it still drips in that velvety and breathy arousal from before as he slowly slips a finger inside of her. And she's more than ready for him, her underwear already soaked and ruined.
Her eyes blink open again as the sound of her wetness squelching along his fingers pumping into her fills the air of the stagnant hotel room. And she sort of hates it, she feels that familiar self-discontent surfacing again as he continues to stretch and add fingers into her while her spine shudders, until she's distracted by the view of his other arm that had been underneath and perpendicular to her lying form.
They're dry humping now. And it's so rudimentary and desperate yet so addicting, that her stomach practically burns with want and slices cleanly through the discontempt.
Her eyes travel to the fingers belonging to his other arm not currently curling inside of her, clenched tightly against the pillow case under her head.
His knuckles are bright white from the ferocity of which he is clutching onto the thin fabric, and it gives her pause.
She knows immediately why he's gripping the silk so fiercely. She thinks about what Stefan said earlier about Kai's eerie control over his vampiric, and more primitive nature.
He's halting himself in a way, to prevent himself from hurting her.
He's trying to keep his movements as controlled as possible as he causes her to unravel beneath him; but she can feel his own control slipping with each groan and choked sigh that tumbles from his lips. So he continues to clench onto the pillowcase for dear life, maybe in an attempt to prevent himself from giving in any more than he already has.
She thinks hazily as his fingers continue to pump more urgently, that she does not possess that same luxury.
She's not surprised then, when he speaks again, that his voice trembles. It's still stealthy and calm, but there's a sort of stagnant anger that gives way to a frustration that she cannot even begin to fathom.
"But they weren't all just fantasies. I was a sociopath, Bonnie. The things I wanted to do to you were so fucked, but I just couldn't help myself. You think I'm bad now, you wouldn't even think about being in the same room as me if you knew."
His breath puffs harshly against her neck now, his chest rising in conjunction with each rock of his hips against her ass.
She almost hates herself for the absolute sluggish bout of pleasure that coils through her body at his vile words.
She lets out a breathy moan and watches hypnotized as white fingers clench and unclench sporadically against her pillowcase.
"And these fantasies…they only ever got worse."
"T-tell me."
Her voice is shot, breathy and vulnerable and desperate and pathetic.
He's reduced her to everything that she hates.
But she wants to know, she can already feel the addiction settling into her skin at the implication of him doing more damage to her than what he's doing now.
Her cunt aches and throbs as more broiling hot pleasure floods through her and curls down to her toes.
The white hand clenches and unclenches again, like clockwork, with each twitching clamp of her own velvety insides around his ringed fingers.
Her magic flickers the hotel lights around her and swarms readily into his darker magic.
"...Bonnie."
The clenched hand rises to harshly grip around her neck.
She whimpers once more.
"Oh fuck, I'm gonna—"
His hips stutter, there's no more rhythm to their madness.
"That's it, let it out, baby."
She doesn't want to imagine what his face looks like, as his words worm themselves through her, she's far past beyond all of that. She can't even blanche at the pet name he called her. She's ascended and is too high to even feel anything except for him, wrapped and suffocating along every facet of her.
She cries out, her bedside lamp flickers on completely until the lightbulb bursts, and her orgasm hits her so hard that the world colors white around her.
He comes along with her, or she thinks he does, because his hips stop stuttering and moving, his chest begins to slow its upheaval, and his moans begin to die out, slowly and steadily. She can feel the sticky wetness of his cum damply pressing against the back of the thin material of her shorts.
He comes down from his climax before she does.
For her, it's brutal, and embarrassing.
Her swollen insides take a long time to stop twitching against his fingers, she can't—despite her complete desperation—stop the whimpers and desperate mewls from leaving her lips, and her entire body shudders on its way back to a familiar plane.
It is only natural that he then would take her flaxen and vulnerable state, and continue to be a complete douchebag about it.
She feels him gently kiss the back of her now sweat slicked neck, cooing and shushing her whimpers as she comes down from her high. And his attempt to calm her and so obviously establish a power imbalance is so aggravating, that that familiar dormant hatred she'd held for him just that morning, flares upwards immediately. That self-righteous disgust starts to fill her lungs, and suddenly it becomes easier to breathe.
She knows that he positively revelled in the notion of her crumbling before him, leaving him and only him to pick up the pieces for her.
He's one up on her again.
The thought causes her stomach to coil angrily once.
He can have this, she thinks.
Because he'll never have anything like this ever again.
He will never even touch her again.
And so she decides then and there, that when she does finally kill him, she'll enjoy it.