I cannot believe it took me a year and a half to do three chapters, but here we are. Thank you to Kelly for beta work, to Madina for the beautiful cover, and to Melissa for letting me shamelessly steal part of her Caroline meta because it inspired me so much. I hope you like this Paula, and I'm sorry for the wait!

Caroline stood in the center of the foyer of Klaus's palace, the stairs stretching from the marble tiles to the double doors above suddenly feeling like an impossible climb. She'd never ventured further than here, despite an offer or two to show her around. There was something about the idea of getting comfortable in his space that made their connection more real, and she hadn't been ready to accept that she had true feelings for him. After her conversation with Tatia, she felt like she couldn't deny anymore that he'd already managed to trap her in a net of pretty compliments, shared jokes, and heated looks, and she hated how scared she was that he hadn't meant every word.

It felt rude to just invite herself in, but if she didn't she'd never get the nerve. Her heart was pounding in her chest, the thumps loud in her ears, but she had to push down her fear to get what she wanted.

"Klaus?"

He didn't answer, but she did hear the soft sound of classical music from somewhere on the upper floors. She climbed up the stairs to follow it, figuring that even if the source wasn't Klaus, whoever was listening to it would know where to find him. She tried not to be distracted by the beauty of the palace, but it was difficult. There was something about the pinpricks of light showing through thin seashells scattered on the stone walls between the wide windows combined with the deep blue abyss outside that made it feel endless.

A part of her just wanted to wander around and avoid the conversation she needed to have with Klaus, but she knew she couldn't. She was too curious. When she managed to trace the source of the music to a dark wooden door with a polished handle, she heard it cut off abruptly. Before she even raised her hand to knock, the door swung inward, and she saw Klaus's irritated frown melt into a wide smile when he saw her. "Caroline," he murmured. "What a surprise."

She swallowed, her eyes refusing to obey her brain as they scanned his shirtless chest, lingering on the tattoo inked on his shoulder before noting his toned abs and the small patch of golden hair that disappeared under the waistband of his sleeping pants.

The fabric looked soft, and she had to stop herself from reaching out to touch, her cheeks flaming when she heard him clear his throat.

She finally let her gaze settle on his face to find a smug smirk and dimpled cheeks. He stepped aside, gesturing her to come in. She scanned the room, unsurprised to see that it was a painting studio, various canvases and tables of every art supply imaginable scattered around, a comfortable-looking leather chaise shoved into the corner next to a pile of thick, hardcover books. Her lips parted when she saw the only uncovered canvas in the center of the room, a half-complete portrait of her at the theatre. Her eyes were bright in the painting, her lips pulled into a smile, the amount of care devoted to capturing every little piece of her face enough to make her breath catch.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, love?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Is the soulmate thing real?" she blurted, unable to hold in the question any longer, biting her lip when his eyebrows raised before pressing forward. "Am I...are we...was that a dumb pick-up-line, or...you know..."

"We're soulmates," he said quietly, and she felt her heart drop. "You look upset, sweetheart."

"So you only like me because of a stupid bond thing, right? If we weren't soulmates, then you wouldn't have even...I'm not..." she trailed off, and he looked at her with what looked like genuine confusion, his lips slightly parted, and she waited for a few seconds before he spoke, his voice hoarse.

"What?"

"You know," she emphasized, her hands twitching.

"No, I'm afraid I haven't the faintest," he said, clearly irritated.

"Why would you choose me?" she asked, not meaning to sound angry but slightly overwhelmed by the look on his face. "Like, I try so, so hard and no one ever chooses me. It's always Tatia or Elena because they always know the right things to say and they're easygoing and nice and I'm stubborn and tactless and if this soulmate bond hadn't been a thing-"

"The bond doesn't do anything to my feelings," he interrupted impatiently. "The bond simply brings you to me. If I hadn't been gifted with a soulmate and I was lucky enough to meet you, I would care for you just as much, Caroline."

"But-"

"And furthermore, I don't want someone nice or easygoing. I want you because you're stubborn and clever and passionate. I'd assume that one of your sisters is the one responsible for planting these ideas in your head?"

The accusation was almost a threat, his anger clear in the straightening of his spine and the way his fingers flexed as though he was itching to unleash some sort of retribution, and her teeth sunk into her lower lip as she nodded, looking away in embarrassment at her insecurity. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, unable to meet his eyes, instead focusing on the rippling seaweed showing through the far window. "It's not...I mean, to be fair it sounds pretty reasonable when Tatia said it. Like, logically, I mean."

Klaus's eyes flashed at Tatia's name, his mouth settling into a thin line that was the only hint of his anger. "And what reasonable lies did she come up with, exactly?"

"That I'm not good enough for you. That you're old and experienced and know what you want, and that what you want is someone who isn't naive and shallow."

His eyes softened as he took a step forward, cupping her cheek and searching her face. "You don't truly believe that, do you? You are anything but shallow, Caroline. You are an ocean. A frighteningly beautiful abyss, every crevice of which I intend to explore. You're honest and a bit harsh occasionally, it's true, but I wouldn't have you any other way. You are so much more than simply enough. Perhaps you don't see it yet, but I have never questioned your depth."

She was unable to resist leaning into his touch, looking up at him to study the look on his face, looking for any hint that he was being disingenuous. She so desperately wanted to believe him.

"Someday you will recognize it," he continued, his tone a soft murmur that still somehow carried an undercurrent of sureness, of strength. "You'll see that you're turbulent and complex and loyal and full of light, that despite what you and your sister seem to feel, you are worth it. And yes, I can assure you that Tatia was correct when she said that I am old enough to know what I want, and I want you."

She wanted to accuse him of spinning pretty words, trying to seduce her with a web of compliments that she so desperately wanted to hear, but he looked so genuine, his eyes imploring and fierce, as though he was just as desperate for her to understand as she was for someone to say it. She leaned into the touch of his warm palm on her face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone.

"I want you too," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

He gave her a warm smile that she couldn't help but return, the hand that wasn't resting against her cheek pressing gently against her side under her loose top, his fingers brushing against her ribcage, mapping the bumps and valleys with light, lazy strokes that made her breathing stutter.

"I've wondered how your skin would feel beneath my fingers for so long," he murmured, almost as though he was talking to himself. "Before I knew you, even. You'd float into my dreams...sometimes just the curve of your smile or the sound of your laugh. I would imagine how soft your skin would be to the touch. I ignored it, pretended you were simply a passing fantasy of a faceless muse. Yet, you haunted me. When I saw your face, I knew."

"You're being a little dramatic."

He grinned, his fingers moving from her ribcage to the waistband of the human jeans she'd taken a liking to, threading his fingers through the belt loops, tugging her closer. She let him, her hands landing on his shoulders, the feel of him pressed against her natural and right. "I suppose, though it doesn't make it any less true. I painted countless portraits of the curve your shoulder, the quirk of your lips. I imagined how your eyelashes would look against your cheek when your eyelids fluttered from my touch. I want to feel you melt in my arms, to taste the salt of your skin under my tongue."

She raised an eyebrow, her challenging expression flickering when his hands moved to press against her hips, his mouth lowering to brush against her ear as he spoke. "Do you want me to touch you?"

"Yes," Caroline admitted after a moment, her last shreds of doubt evaporating in favor of curiosity. Anticipation. She suddenly realized how much she wanted his calloused palms to stroke the skin of her breasts and thighs, to feel the slow drag of his teeth along the hollow of her neck, for his stubble to scratch lightly against her belly as he kissed his way down her skin and settled with his tongue against her clit. There were so many fantasies she'd determinedly kept locked down in the back of her mind, so many things she wanted, and from the dart of his tongue over his lips and the gleam in his eye as he studied her face, she had a feeling that all she'd have to do was ask.

She swallowed, looking up at him and taking a shaky breath, her need for him suddenly almost too much, the charge of it flooding her veins. She couldn't resist reaching to touch him, her palms settling on his forearms, enjoying the heat of his skin under her hands. He was waiting for her to elaborate, his breathing slow and easy despite the tenseness of his muscles under her fingertips. Was it possible that he was also unsure? That he needed confirmation of her feelings for him? She felt like she'd been so obvious, but maybe he was just as scared of their connection as she was. "I want you to touch me," she added finally, her breath hitching at the way his eyes darkened.

"Where?" he murmured, his thumbs tucked under the waistband of her jeans as his hands gently massaged her hips through the fabric, his lips tracing her jaw, sending a shiver through her body that made her nipples tighten and her breath catch.

She swallowed, unsure of what to say, how to verbalize what she wanted. She'd had flings and relationships, elaborate fantasies, but she'd never been good at putting her desires into words, too set in the fear of being rebuffed.

Klaus was different though, he was looking at her like he wanted nothing more than to fulfill every dirty daydream she'd had of his tongue and hands on her skin.

"Caroline," he murmured against her neck, his stubble brushing against her jaw as he spoke. "Tell me what you want, love."

She tipped her head back, hoping he'd take the hint and let his lips travel down her collarbone, but he lingered at her pulse point instead, circling it with his tongue before scraping his teeth against her neck. She wasn't sure she liked that he could do this to her, make her melt with just a brush of his lips to her skin. "Keep doing that," she ordered, moaning softly when she felt him bite her a bit harder, the pinch of pain only making it better. She was sure it would leave a mark, and she found that she didn't mind.

She wanted to taste him though, and she said as much, tangling her fingers in his hair and tugging lightly, gratified by the low rumble in his throat as he followed her grip, though he refused to bend towards her, lingering a foot away and drinking her in. His eyes were a deep blue when she met them, the color unnaturally rich and mesmerizing. "Kiss me," she breathed, not missing the way his eyes flashed gold as he stared at her, how his tongue darted over his lips before he moved.

He was the best thing she'd ever tasted.

Her heart was pounding as she eagerly met him halfway, acutely aware of the scrape of his teeth against her bottom lip and the press of his hands against her hips. She could feel her knees weaken when he slipped his tongue into her mouth, dragging the tip along the back of her teeth as he pulled her closer, only the thin cloth of her blouse separating her breasts from his bare chest. Her hands reached out to grip Klaus's biceps for support instinctively, and she felt them flex under her fingers as he lifted her up on one of the studio tables. She caught her breath when he pulled away, flushed at the smirk on his face when she whimpered at the loss of his hands against her waist.

"Just a moment, sweetheart," he promised, waving his hand to make the art supplies float off the table and stack themselves neatly on the other side of the room before he turned back to her, reaching to stroke her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered as she leaned into the touch instinctively, her skin sensitive and aching for him anywhere she could get. She couldn't help but reach for him as well, savoring the low growl in his throat when she let her palms skim down his chest to his abs, inhaling sharply as they tightened against her fingers.

She swallowed, opening her eyes to meet his and finding herself almost hypnotized by the deep blue, unable to tear her gaze away. He tilted her chin up and bent to kiss her again, his hand sliding down her arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She leaned back when he set both palms squarely on the table, trapping her between them as he tugged her lower lip between his teeth before soothing the sting with his tongue. She leaned back onto the table, spreading her legs to let him stand between her thighs and moaning as he followed her down, his warm fingers closing around her wrists, thumbs brushing along her palms. She opened her eyes slowly when he pulled back to stare down at her, his lips puffy from her kisses.

"I've thought about this for years," he murmured, tracing the line of her collarbone, smiling slightly when she shivered. "I had elaborate plans for all the things I'd do to you when you finally let me touch."

"What plans?" she breathed, whimpering when he began to palm her breast through her blouse before plucking at her nipple through the fabric, the thin lace of her bralette underneath giving her just enough friction to make her pant, her back arching.

"You'll see," he said, looking entirely too smug at her interest.

Deciding that he'd had the upper hand for too long, she wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed, lifting her hips to grind against his cock through the fabric of his pants. "I told you what I wanted," she reminded, and he laughed quietly.

"Did you? I don't recall any specifics."

She debated drawing out their bickering-slash-foreplay longer, but she'd been waiting to touch him for so long, had spent hours of her life wondering what his cock would feel like inside of her... She'd let him win just this once.

"I have a lot of specifics," she said finally, her lips twitching when his eyes lit up with interest. "Most of them are bed-related, but we can improvise."

"I'd love to have you in my bed," he murmured, bending to give her a kiss. "I've imagined you tangled in my sheets quite often, you see."

"Just take off your pants," she said, pulling off her blouse and bralette and throwing them in the general direction of the door before reaching down to unfasten the button of her jeans, beginning to wriggle out of them.

"Impatient, are we?" he asked, clearly amused as he did as she asked.

She huffed, not dignifying his question with a response––of course she was impatient––but was momentarily distracted when she saw him wrap his hand around his cock, stroking himself as he watched her push her jeans down her thighs. She moved even slower, not quite impatient enough to resist working him up, trying to look at his face as she undressed but giving into temptation after a few seconds to watch him. She'd been wondering whether he touched himself thinking of her, what he looked like when he did, and she was sure the sight of his long fingers wrapped around his cock as he focused solely on her would never leave her brain. She licked her lips when she looked up a few seconds later and saw his eyes glittering, could tell from the strain of his jaw and the tightening of his shoulders that he was as turned on as she was.

She didn't miss the way his eyes flashed gold when she finally kicked her jeans to the ground and reached for her panties, raising her eyebrows when he reached to stop her, his fingers curling around her wrists. "Let me."

She lifted her hips, allowing him to pull the lace down her thighs, biting her lip when he stilled after the fabric fell to the floor, his eyes dragging up and down her nude form slowly, almost a tease in and of itself. She was less self-conscious now that it was clear he wanted her as much as she wanted him, unashamed of her gasp when he finally let his palms touch her thighs, pushing them to part gently.

"Do you want my cock or my tongue, Caroline?"

His tone could have passed for casual if the undercurrent of rough need wasn't bubbling underneath, the way her name rolled off of his tongue sounding better than any way she'd imagined it. She knew what she liked, had craved to hear Klaus whisper the most sinful promises in her ear that he'd only before hinted at with his eyes, and as much as she wanted to feel his tongue curl against her clit, she knew they'd have time later.

"Your cock," she said easily, not missing the quick flex of his fingers against her wrist when the word fell from her mouth. "And talk to me. I want you to talk to me."

He chuckled softly, his palms leaving her thighs to tug her closer by her hips. She took the hint, spreading her legs and watching him watch her as he filled her slowly with a soft groan. "You feel so good, sweetheart. Wrap your legs––yes, just like that...fuck..."

She only had a moment to feel satisfaction at the way the last bits of his carefully constructed control fell away before she was lifted up and turned around, the air displacing around her for just a moment until she found herself straddling him on the leather chaise instead, her hands on his shoulders. She rolled her hips, finding the new angle much better and letting her head drop back.

"Look at me, sweetheart."

She obeyed, lifting her head to make eye contact, her lips parting when she saw that his eyes were a deep molten gold. "I've waited so long to see your face when you come around my cock," he murmured, his palm skating up her back to tangle in her hair. "I want to see the pretty flush in your cheeks and watch your lips form my name. Learning how best to draw you out until you're desperate and soaking will be my greatest pleasure. The most delicious sort of torture."

She let her teeth sink into her lower lip at the words, her hips rolling against him as she watched his teeth grit through heavily-lidded eyes. "How do you want me, then?" she gasped out, the words difficult to form when almost all she could think about was how deliciously he stretched her, how good his pelvic bone felt when it pressed against her clit.

"Tangled in my sheets at first. I want to wake you up with my mouth, watch you come for me when you're still half-dreaming and again when you're awake enough to beg for more. Would you like that?"

"Yeah," she breathed, nodding a bit too eagerly but too turned on to care. He gave her a smug grin, kissing her softly before pulling back and watching her carefully for her reaction to his next offering.

"Perhaps you'll allow me to press you against the shower wall next. I want to see you dripping wet, cloaked in my power and sensitive for my touch. I'll take your pussy first, tease your clit with my fingers until you can't take another moment before I fill you with my cock and let you find release. I'll bend you on your knees then, I think, watch the water run down your spine and drip over your shoulders while I take your pretty arse. I'll ensure I soften the stone for your knees of course. I wouldn't want to cause you any discomfort that would distract you from the way I touch you."

"What if I like it?" she teased, struggling to form the words when he hit her g-spot, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back. She squeaked when he pinched her ass, the jolt of pain going straight to her clit and making her shudder.

"Watch," he ordered, his voice low. Her breath caught, her walls clenching around him. "And I'll have to keep that in mind, then. How long do rug burns last on your skin, sweetheart? You seem to enjoy a bit of exhibitionism. Would you like to put on one of your pretty sundresses after I fuck you on your hands and knees? Clench your thighs together at the whispers and the glances knowing that everyone who sees is wondering how loudly you screamed for me?"

"Klaus..." she breathed, her nails digging into his shoulders as she sped up her movements, trying to encourage him to go faster. She could feel herself dangling on the precipice, so near to tipping over the edge. "Keep going. I'm close."

"You shouldn't have told me you like it so much," he teased, somehow much more able to string words together despite his harsh breathing and jerky movements. "I can't wait to bend to whisper filthy things in your ear in a crowded room, to watch you flush as I tell you all the things I want to do to you, starting with licking your pussy on the table in the ballroom until you're quivering beneath my hands and tongue, your eyes still dark with lust when you return the favor on your knees, your fingers between your legs while you suck my cock."

She hissed out his name as she came, clenching around him and breathing hard, satisfied when he followed moments later with a low growl of her name. She let her forehead fall against his shoulder, absently tracing the triangle tattoo on his back and trying to slow her breathing.

"Good, sweetheart?" he asked, and she could hear the smirk in his voice, his hands squeezing her hip lightly.

"Yeah," she breathed, too comfortable nestled against him to pull away. "Good."

They lingered there for a few minutes, basking in the afterglow, and Caroline groaned when she felt the insistent tug on her skin.

"What's wrong, love?"

"Sailors," she mumbled, beginning to disentangle herself. He reached to grab her wrist.

"Don't go, sweetheart."

"I'll be back," she promised, gently pulling her hand away. "Stop pouting. If you don't want me to go, maybe stop bothering them."

XXX

Though he'd never admit it to her, he was slightly thankful for Rebekah's vindictive streak. The goddess of love knew what she was doing, it seemed. Though his sister had admirably refrained from obvious 'I told you so's through the centuries, he never missed the small smirk when she saw him with Caroline tucked close against him. It might have bothered him at one point, but he couldn't regret it.

If weakness brought with it her bright smiles, freely-given laughter, and righteous indignation, it was worth it. She now knew his heart was hers to keep, and that was all that mattered.

He was a god, could make tides turn and ripples turn to whirlpools with just a wave of his hand, but he was nothing without the vast sea from which he drew his power.

You are an ocean, Caroline Forbes.

Thank you so much for sticking with this! I hope you liked it. Any opinions on the confession scene? The smut? Any constructive criticism? Your reviews are what keep me going, and I'd love to know what you thinK!

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