A/N: This is the first chapter where I'll only touch on one couple. I'm making a branch off story for Elena and Damon that will be called "The Right kind of Wrong". Enjoy the Klaroline centric fic :)

Caroline's POV

I wake up to the sound of a car pulling up and parking in my driveway. I think it's Elena's car, and my thoughts are confirmed when I hear her muttering to herself the whole way from the car. I'm already to the door by the time she'd knock.

"Well good morning," I say, noticing her anxious and guilt-ridden expression right away. She looks very well put together, but her eyes are wide and her smile tenuous as though she's hiding someone.

"I had sex with Damon," she blurts, speeding into my house to the liquor cabinet and pouring a glass.

"And?" I ask. I'm not very surprised, seeing the way they were all over each other last night. In fact, it reallytakes the pressure off what I have to tell her next. Which is the far more shocking almost-sex I had with Klaus last night. Elena sips the brandy and shrugs restlessly.

"And...and...I don't know," she says, downing the rest of the drink. She furrows her eyebrows like she's confused by my lack of reaction. Previously I had always been team-Stefan, but seeing Elena this happy...that's hard to argue with.

"Do you regret it?"

"No." Her answer is automatic, like a reflex. "I love him. I know you think he's horrible and that you don't get it though."

I must look guilty because one of her eyebrows arches.

"I'm happy for you, Elena. Besides, Damon isn't allbad," I say. Elena purses her lips and sets the glass down, reaching conclusions more quickly than I'd like her to.

"Caroline. Is there something you want to talk about?" she asks, her voice knowing and measured. I brace myself, hoping it doesn't ruin our friendship. Hoping that above everyone else she will understand this.

"Now that you mention it, there was this one thing. Klaus kind of stopped by last night," I say, keeping my voice as casual and neutral as possible. It's jumped two octaves by the end despite my efforts however.

"Oh. My. God. Did you guys have sex?!" she asks, her voice incredulous. There's a smile pulling at her lips though, and I feel like there's a chance someone will get it. I spent all last night awake trying to make sense of everything-what my encounter with Klaus meant, what my feelings for him mean-but I couldn't come up with anything.

"No, we did not have sex. We did a bunch of other stuff, but not the...finale," I say, lacking graceful terms to put it in. Elena's smile is thick with implication and she arches her eyebrow at me.

"So what does that mean?" she asks.

"I don't know."

"You guys haven't talked about it?"

Her voice is suddenly more serious and her expression is disbelieving when she realizes my response will be no.

"Extenuating circumstances! My mother came home mid-foreplay, ok?" I say in my own defense. I know that's no excuse for not calling him after or seeing him first thing this morning, especially when such actions kind of hold a lot of gravity in my social circle. But I've needed time to sort out my shit.

"Fine, but you need to talk to him by the end of the day," she says with authority. I narrow my eyes.

"So I assume Damon left your place with all questions answered then."

"...absolutely."

"HAH! I KNEW IT!" I say, pointing my finger at her accusingly.

"Fine! We obviously both have some things to sort out today," Elena says pointedly. She's right, of course. I have to go talk to him. It's not like I can let something like that just slide by with no comments. Besides, I didn't necessarily want it to slide by...

Caroline's POV

Leave it to Klaus to have an intimidatingly huge house. I'm sitting in front of their mansion trying to collect my nerves. I'm freaking out but I force myself to get out of the car and go inside anyway. Better to get it over with than sit here dreading it for hours. I can hear someone inside, the faint scratching of a pencil over paper. Otherwise it's surprisingly quiet. Rebekah must be off chasing Matt or something.

I let myself in, knowing he can stop me if he wants to. I'm sure he heard me sit in my car too, so it isn't like I'm under any illusions at the moment.

Come on, Caroline. It won't even be that bad. Just talk to him,I remind myself. It's like my legs are getting stiffer the further up the stairs I go. The closer I get to the sound that I know is him writing or drawing, the more I want to turn and bolt. Pull your shit together, you are Caroline Forbes.

I square my shoulders and push the door open to find Klaus sitting behind a large oak desk, sketchbook propped on his knee in front of him.

"I did wonder if you would muster the courage to come in," Klaus says, his eyes never leaving the paper. That's not really how I want to start this conversation, but instead of being mature I indignantly stick my chin out. I don't like being talked down to.

"I wasn't scared to come in," I say. It's not true, but I hope he doesn't realize that. He sets the sketchbook down and gives me a dry, cold smile.

"Very well. Why don't you get on with it then?" he says, standing up and walking to the front of the desk. I'm sure I look dumb struck right now, because this is sonot how I imagined this going down.

"Excuse me?" I ask.

"Go on," he says, his voice almost amused, "tell me how last night was a mistake and that even though Tyler betrayed you there is no one else for you. All of that fairy tale nonsense."

Uh...what?

My anger boils over like an ignored kettle, the fury coming out in one hard laugh. I want to slap him or ignore him or torch this whole room. I can't decide which.

He's closing in on me though, the distance between us shrinking until I feel like his presence is weighing down on me. The anger is building in my chest, a container with pressure building inside..

"I'm waiting, Caroline. Tell me how sorry you are that you let it happen, how I'm far too much of a monster for you. Tell me what a mistake I was," he says. I can't help myself anymore. I rear back to slap him in the face. I know it won't really hurt him, but it'll be emasculating as hell. My hand never reaches his smug little cheek though. He catches my wrist easily.

"God get off me!" I say, trying to shove him away. He doesn't let me though.

"Not until you say what you came here to say," he says, completely undeterred by my struggles. The more I fight him the more aggravated I get that I clearly can't get away. I'm only making a fool of myself struggling against the hold he has on my arm.

"FINE! I came to tell you that I don't understand why but I had fun last night, ok?"

The words burst out of me and in their absence I can't decide if I feel heavier or lighter. Heavier because I've admitted someone to myself that I swore I never would, but lighter because the pressure of the secret is gone.

"Don't lie to me, Caroline," he says.

Anger boils over, overpowering him for a second.. I slam my hands into his chest, shoving him off me in one quick movement.

"You can be a real arrogant asshole sometimes, you know that? I came here to say what I wanted to say and you don't even believe me. Well I'm glad we did that sexually charged tango for nothing then!"

I turn around to leave, trying not to enjoy the look of utter shock on his face so much, but I don't get very far. His hands are like iron vices on my shoulders, holding me in place in front of him. He's looking at me, his eyes serious but with just a hint of pleading. He's begging me not to be lying. I don't want to convince him with words anymore-they do no good.

I lean forward and press my lips to his, craving the heat and sensation his skin brings. His reaction is delayed, but only for a moment. Soon his arm wraps around my waist, crushing my body against his. I wrap my arms around his neck, letting my tongue mingle with his as one of his hands finds its way into my hair.

This kiss is unlike anything else I've had. More than the heated touches we exchanged just last night. It's filled with something powerful and urgent, like if I can't touch all of his skin at once I may implode. Our kissing becomes more feverish, his mouth fighting mine for dominance while our hands explore. He grabs my hips, hoisting me onto the desk and then pulling me against him.

I let my hands find the hem of his shirt and yank it over his head, the view of his muscled chest stoking the fire building in my core. His hand grabs the hair at the base of my head, pulling my head back and capturing my mouth with a nearly violent edge. I can feel myself getting wetter, loving the passionate recklessness he treats me with.

He pulls my shirt off swiftly, capturing my breasts in his hands as soon as the garment is disposed of. A moan escapes me without permission when he pinches them through my bra. He growls with satisfaction, the smile of a devil on his lips. I push my hips forward, grinding them against his and biting my lip when my core finds the hard bulge in his jeans.

Arousal almost clouds my coordination, but I get his belt and jeans undone in record time nonetheless. His mouth kisses my neck and shoulder greedily, his dull teeth biting at my sensitive skin. I hear his pants hit the ground and I reach forward, wrapping my hand around his hard length. It's...impressive.

He slams his hands onto the desk on either side of me when I start pumping my hand back and forth. His hips follow the rhythm I set, his mouth alternating between devouring my mouth and trailing down my exposed neck. There's a crash when he shoves everything off his desk and then my back is pressing into the hard oak, his hands ripping through the fastenings on my jeans. I'm of the persuasion that he can't possibly get my clothing off quickly enough, and we seem to be in agreement, because my underwear disappear just as quickly.

His hands are on my inner thighs, running their way up and sending a shiver through my limbs. He's taking waytoo long to touch me and I buck my hips up to let him know I think so. He grabs my ankles and pulls them over his shoulders abruptly, bringing my core against his rigid length.

I can feel the scorching kisses he leaves up my leg, passing my knee while his fingers graze the skin of my hip. I groan impatiently and his husky laugh only makes the anxiety worse. I shatter almost immediately when his mouth finally reaches my sensitive flesh, my back arching off the table and the noises I make the sound of pure ecstasy. Which is exactly what it is.

"Oh, sweet Caroline," Klaus says, his voice deep. He licks his glistening lips, the sight of him so arousing I nearly fall apart all over again.

"I need you. Now," I say, my patience running out. He smiles at me with sexual satisfaction, lining up and pushing into me with one slow thrust. It's the most incredibly feeling, and it verges on painful for a moment. He doesn't rush, though, his hands holding onto my hips like it's taking every ounce of control he has.

As soon as I've adjusted to his size he starts moving, his hips swinging against mine with controlled movements. I really hope we're the only people home, because I'm wondering if my moans can be heard from miles around. I use the desk as leverage to push my hips to meet his.

"Fuck," he mutters, his hips slamming into mine faster and harder with each stroke. It's raw passion flowing between us and even the bruising force we're using is welcome. One hand stays on my hip while the other grabs my breast, my fingers digging into the wood of the desk.

Our position switches fast, and I'm bent over the desk before I can tell what's going on. He pushes back into my quickly, the short absence making his length all the more noticeable again. His hand grabs my throat, his mouth leaving hot kisses on the backs of my shoulders. I can feel myself building towards another orgasm, the feeling coiling deep in my stomach.

"Fuck...I'm gonna..." I can hardly get the words out, the tingling in my spine and nerves too much to overpower. He hears me though, his hand skirting around my hip to rub my clit. If I thought the last orgasm was good, this one is earth-shattering. I feel Klaus go rigid, his muscles tensing convulsively and his hands gripping my hips with uncontrolled passion. It hurts in the best way.

By the time we both have underwear on, the room is still buzzing with energy. I don't feel any need to rush out, though I am feeling slightly at a loss for what to do. I'm looking at the destruction we created in his office when his stubble-covered chin rests on my shoulder.

"We made quite the mess, didn't we?" he asks, his tone pleased and chastising at the same time. I smirk, remembering the way he was so focused when he cleared everything out of the way. He was nothing if not a man of determination.

"To say the least," I say, letting myself shamelessly enjoy this. I decide that in this moment I'm happy, and that's all that really matters to me.

A/N: Please read and review as always! Thanks!