SMUT

Caroline fiddled with the long, billowing sleeves of the gown she had been given.

She hated it.

It wasn't a dress meant for her, it was designed to please the eye of the man who would disrobe her. Sheer and fragile and airy. Any woman donning such a gown would look delicate and innocent, but also provocative. It was disgusting.

The sound of the door quietly closing disrupted her thoughts, her spine stiffening. She steeled herself before turning, dipping into a deep curtsy and casting her eyes at the ground.

"Your Majesty."

Near silently, dark leather boots stepped closer, pausing mere feet from where she still bowed.

"Lady Caroline," He acknowledged. "Please, take a seat."

It was only years of practicing self-control at Court that prevent her eyes from darting upward to stare at him. Instead, she rose slowly, letting their eyes meet only once she had fully risen, chin angled downward in deference as was proper.

Her face looked placid as she obeyed his order, but a question burned in the back of her mind.

Did he anticipate he could yet win her favor? After what he had the audacity to invoke?

And so her mind was razor sharp as she sat and studied him, even as her gaze remained soft. Every bit the picture of a noble lady.

Just as he was every bit the picture of a noble man. His bearing proud and impressive. His physical charms worthy of song. His clothes well cut and of fine make. Albeit he was attired in less formal dress, a plan white chemise paired with darker colored doublet, jerkin, and hose. Each lacking the intricate embroidery that would normally adorn one such as he. However, far more startling was what she could discern from his expression.

There was a tinge of appreciation in the darkness of his eyes, but nothing truly lascivious. Nothing that indicated he was imagining tearing her dress from her body and burying himself inside her.

Before any flights of fancy could run away from her, Caroline reminded herself of why she was there. That the bare minimum of decency did not absolve this man of what he had done.

After all, his Majesty had an impressive facade certainly, but all the greatest Kings did. And for all that her personal respect for him had plummeted, she, unfortunately, must concede that a great King he was.

Then, to be contrary she was sure, he further startled her with his bluntness.

"You are displeased with me, my Lady." He said this as a statement, not a question. He lacked the decency to even sound disapproving of this fact. Rather she heard a note of understanding in his tone, sympathy even. It was perhaps the second most enraging thing he had done.

Even with all her experience and ability, Caroline impressed herself with the level calmness of her reply. "Jus primae noctis, your Majesty, are hardly words I or my fellow women long to hear. In any context, if I may be so bold as to say, and least of all directed at herself."

Still not a trace of anger nor displeasure crossed his features. "I would imagine not, my Lady. Would it ease you to know that I do not intend, in truth, to claim your maiden head?"

At those words, her composure cracked, a sliver of fury and confusion swirling in her blue eyes. "Then what, may I ask, have you summoned me here for?"

The King too released some of his tight reign over his expression, a wicked and cunning smirk curling on his lips. "Tell me, my Lady, how fare the Lords Salvatore?"

"…I beg your pardon, sire?" It was a mark of just how unbalanced his inquiry left her that her deflection was so paltry.

He stepped closer to where she sat beside his bed, a piece of furniture far less imposing in light of this new subject. "Ruthless and vicious men, but not particularly cunning. Though I heard they rather managed to outmaneuver your parents."

Caroline peered up at him, lashes conveniently shielding much of her ire. "I did not know you bothered with keeping track of all the machinations of your Court."

He chuckled. "Ill fates befall the ill-informed. Especially Kings who cannot hear the whispers of treason."

This time Caroline noticeably startled, her eyes wide. Although another part of her wondered if she should truly be surprised by this evidence of unfathomable stupidity in her foes. After all, while their bumbling plots would have forced her hand in marriage - to clumsily grasp at her title of all short-sighted things - twas not as if they would have lived long enough to enjoy their prize.

Again the King chuckled softly, appearing oddly delighted as her eyes once more narrowed, no longer bothering to hide their sharpness behind a docile mask.

"Ah, truly a flower and the serpent under't, my Lady."

"Your Majesty this was hardly necessary if all you desired were the Lord Salvatores heads."

"Indeed not," he agreed before segueing into an apparent non sequitur. "Lady Caroline, it so happens that I turn eight and twenty in the coming fortnight."

"So you do, Sire," she played along.

"Far too old to be a King with neither Queen nor Heir, or so my advisers fret."

Only her quick wits spared Caroline from some unsightly gaping, though her voice was a bit strained as she questioned him. "Sire, please speak plainly, are you proposing an alliance with me?"

A quirk of his lips told her he caught the irony of her delicate phrasing, though he obliged her and spoke frankly. "Yes." He took her hand in his, the touch of his bare skin on hers almost as shocking as their conversation. "Lady Caroline of Forbes, daughter of the Marquess and Marchioness of Forbes, I do so humbly request your hand in marriage."

'Humbly'. What a quaint jest. Truly.

The twist of her lips was wry, her voice a tad sardonic. "Hm, and should I refuse this request you leave my reputation in tatters. Regardless of how this night concludes. Regardless of my lack of choice in such matters as jus primae noctis."

At least he did her the honor of not denying it. For in all honesty his plan was cunning, and she equally admired and despised him for it. That being said she did not want to refuse. Queen Consort was not a title to be disdained. An heir already an expectation of her sex. In any case, she had already been prepared to tolerate much the same with Damon Salvatore, though she could hardly dispose of the King quite so easily.

With an appraising eye, Caroline once more took in the features of the man before her. This time allowing appreciation to settle within her. The firm line of his jaw. The elegant bow of his lips. The fairness of his hair and the vibrancy of his blue eyes. These were all traits she found attractive in him. Though truly twas the keenness of his mind that was most alluring.

It was almost a surprise to conclude that she wanted him. His intellect. His charms. Even his ruthlessness all stirred a fire within her.

"What say you, my Lady."

She smiled. "Yes, your Majesty."

After her agreement, the two spoke more on the details of their arrangement. All of it falling well within Caroline's expectations and abilities. The King even mentioned, with feigned flippancy, that had she truly abhorred his plans he would have released her with reputation intact. Apparently only the two of them were aware of what the King had supposedly summoned her for. Her refusal would have spread the rumor that the King had called on her to entertain his sister, the Princess Rebekah.

Admiration and irritation aptly summed her feelings on her Lord Husband-to-be.

And when it came time to depart, Caroline instead made a daring request.

"My King," she began, stood once more before his bed, "will you take what I now freely offer to you?"

As she spoke she fiddled with the sleeves of her gown, only half feigning demureness. As a noble born lady, and a wickedly intelligent one at that, she was truly untouched in all ways. For it was far too much risk for too little reward, to seem anything but virginal. The most discerning of her would-be enemies would be able to exploit the smallest of hints. And a lack of modesty or presence of unexpected knowledge would be the most glaring.

Again the King stepped towards her, his expression appearing almost gentle of all things. "Caroline, you are hardly my Lady Wife yet. Thus, you are spared from such duties."

"I know," she said simply, equal parts charmed and offended by his given reprieve.

His eyes bore into hers, reading her resolve for several long moments. "As you wish," he said at last, extending his hand to her.

She took it, blushing lightly as she admitted, "And I do wish for our life together to be more than duty alone."

The King's eyes darkened as he tugged her into his arms even as something softer glimmered in their depths. His chest was warm and firm beneath her hands, the strength of his arms apparent as he gently enveloped her slighter form.

Her blush darkened as one hand rose to cradle her cheek, their eyes locked as he tilted her face. No one had regarded her with this level of intensity before.

"I find that I desire much the same, my Lady." Caroline could feel the rumble of his voice in his chest, the slightest hint of gravel entering his tone. And the pad of his thumb was hot against the softness of her lips, the gentle pressure parting them as she swallowed a gasp. "May I kiss you?"

He was so close to her. She could see the flecks of green and gray in the blue of his eyes. The way his pupil dilated as he drank her in.

"Yes," she breathed.

And then his lips replaced his thumb, the sensation foreign but twisting something deep inside her. Her fingers clenched in his jerkin, his against her jaw, the small of her back. They moved slowly at first as she tentatively followed his lead, instinct guiding her to what felt right, what sent heat rushing lower.

She whimpered when his tongue slipped between her gasping lips, hot and wet and eager to map every inch of her mouth. Her normally racing mind quieted, thoughts slipping away in favor of building pleasure.

When they parted, she panted lightly for breath, feeling almost dizzy on the taste and feel of him. His nose trailed down her cheek and his lips pressed softly against the skin of her neck, her head tipping backward at his nudge.

Surely, he could feel how her heart raced beneath her skin. The way she flushed pink and hot with his touch.

"You are beautiful, my Lady," she felt more than heard him whisper against her throat.

"C-Caroline," she stuttered. "Call me Caroline, please."

"Who am I to deny such a sweet request, Caroline," he purred.

She shuddered at the sound, toes curling. Taken off guard when she suddenly found herself aloft in his arms and then set so achingly gently onto his bed. The heat and the scent of him surrounded her. It lingered on the pillows and sheets beneath her and emanated from his limbs that pressed alongside hers.

Eyes so dark they were nearly black looked down at her. "I intend to worship you, my lovely Caroline. Kiss and caress every part of you until you melt pleasure-high beneath me."

"And what of you?" She managed to ask.

"Tonight is not about me. You have given me a gift, Caroline, and I will honor it." His hands, unlike her earlier disparaging thoughts, did not tear her garment from her. Instead they slowly peeled it away from her skin, pressing kisses to each newly exposed inch.

She arched and squirmed beneath his touch, learning all the new ways her body would react. How the points of her breasts were exquisitely sensitive. How the skin just below their curve was ticklish. How the divot of her navel was sending heat and wetness rushing lower when his tongue dipped into it.

His hands dragged across the sensitive flesh of her thighs, a place no man had ever touched, his attention now focused where she ached. With firm pressure he coaxed her legs into spreading further as he settled between them.

"My King, I-" Caroline was almost grateful when he hushed her, for once unsure of her words.

"Relax, Caroline, let me take care of you."

That would have earned a retort had her thoughts not scattered at the brush of his thumb. She cried out, gripping the sheets in clenched fists as she jerked upward, attempting to follow the pressure of his touch.

He was saying something about "it bringing her exquisite pleasure", but she was not listening. All her focus instead directed to the deft movements of his fingers. Her eyes shot open (when had they closed?!) as his fingers were replaced by his tongue.

She keened as what felt like flickers of embers danced up her spine as a tension wound tighter inside her.

"Oh, God! Oh, God!" She heretically took the Lord's name in vain, utterly uncaring as she thrashed, desperately needing something though she knew not what.

Her eyes were scrunched tightly shut and white light danced. The tension inside her snapped and she cried out, reveling in the wave of pleasure that shot through her.

"Delicious," he praised once she focused enough to glance down at him, provoking another blush as he licked his unnaturally shiny lips.

Choosing to ignore his teasing, she instead mumbled, "I suppose I can understand now why men are such easy creatures when sex is hinted at."

"Oh, Caroline," he chuckled, "I have so much to teach you if you believe that to be all there is of sex."

"Well, assuredly it is not seeing as you are still dressed," she shot back. "But if their pleasure is even half of that, then I can understand."

At her reminder of his attire, he moved to strip himself of it, seeming to put on a bit of a show even to her naive eye. She was quite admiring of the compact muscle of his torso, the sleek lines of his arms.

Before removing the last of his clothing he locked gazes with her.

"In a moment I will give you your pleasure once more, prepare you with fingers and tongue to accept my cock without pain. And when I am buried inside you, working to make you forget the last of your worries, erase the stress in your bones, I want you to call out my name."

Unconsciously Caroline licked her lips, delighted and embarrassed and overwhelmed by his speech. "Yes, your Majesty."

And then he was bare before her eyes, her gasp of shock turning to a moan of delight as a finger curled within her. It was a strange feeling, stretching muscles that had never stretched before. And yet it felt so good, so right.

One finger became two, became three. All of them shifting and moving within her, stroking and petting and eliciting loud cries from her lips.

"Please," she begged, wanting more of everything as his tongue joined his fingers. The tide of euphoria came faster this time and it was when she was lost in bliss that he at last slipped inside of her. She didn't even realize until her senses returned that she felt fuller than before.

And then it was all she could notice. She didn't notice how her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips. Or how her fingers had found their way to his back, nails digging into his skin and tugging at his curls. No, all she could focus on was the hard, hot line of him pressed deep within her. The way she clenched around him and felt how her internal walls quivered with delight.

"Move," she commanded.

And he did.

Fire burned inside her. Each thrust impacting a spot that sent flashes of light across her vision. If she had thought her last climb to Heaven had been rapid it did not compare to this time. But time had lost all meaning to her and soon she was screaming as she shattered around him.

"Klaus!"

His hips stuttered at the sound of his name on her tongue, a new heat pooling within her as he too fell apart.

"Caroline," he groaned, forehead pressed to hers.

Later when they both had collapsed loose-limbed and sated, Caroline would whisper into the dark.

"I am glad it was you."

The King - Klaus - would tighten his arms around her, pulling her form securely against his and reply.

"As am I, my Queen."