I pushed my limits (And possible yours) with this one. Sexy chapter ahead, you've been warned. –Cheers :)

I stand in the middle of his room, the chill air from the open window cooling my naked body. I spot a white t-shirt of Klaus's draped across the chair in the corner of the room. Taking a glance at him, still sleeping soundly in his bed, his arm draped over her eyes, shielding them from the morning sun.

It's ten in the morning; he's slept for a very long time.

Bringing the shirt to my face, I inhale his scent. Relishing in it, I slip it over my head, its softness enveloping me.

Turning back to the bed, I gently kneel on my side, folding my hands in my lap, looking down at this unbelievable character.

XXX

Klaus's dream

"So what do you want to talk about?" She's looking at me as if I've gone mad. Have I? Kol would definitely testify to that.

"I want to talk about you." I thought that might have been obvious. She scoffs; her smile looks easy, and teasing. I'm suddenly unable to take my eyes off of her. "Y-your hopes your dreams, everything you want out of life..."

She looks up at me through her lashes, the smallest of coy smiles touches her lips. My chest tightens uncomfortably.

Jesus. I really have gone mad.

"Just to be clear, I'm too smart to be seduced by you." Her voice wraps around the words so confidently, it's difficult to deny them. She's teasing.

"Well that's why I like you."

XXX

He looks peaceful, serine. I lean forward, unable to keep my hands to myself, and slide my palm across is abdomen, tracing the exposed skin between the hem of his shirt and his pajama bottoms. He sighs contently, though doesn't seem to stir from his slumber.

I wonder silently if he may be dreaming...

XXX

...

He grabs her, his hand hard on her mouth as she desperately fights against his strength, but it's impossible. I step towards him, towards her, desperate to free her from his grip. But my feet are frozen. Cemented in place.

And I watch him drive his hands through her ribs, grabbing hold of her fragile, innocent heart, yanking if from her body.

"NO!" I yell, but it goes unheard.

Her bleeding cavity where her livelihood was, now gaping, open... I watch the life drain from her eyes, and fall to the ground of the forest soundlessly.

Staring at her corpse, Marcel turns to me, holding her heart in his hand; he takes a step towards me.

And with a wicked smile, he falls to the ground beside her.

And everything goes very, very still.

XXX

Tucking my fingers under his t-shirt, I graze my fingers lightly up his stomach and chest, and then with the slightest pressure, drag my fingernails back down the same path, stopping at the edge of his pants. He shudders under my touch, and I bite a smile.

Repeating the process two more times, he's defiantly awake now...

"Mmm..." He breathes, moving his arm from where it's laying across his face, and rubbing his eyes sleepily.

The sound of his pleasure sends my heart pounding. My entire body buzzing with need as I think back to the last time we were together. The night at the art studio.

It feels like years. I miss his skin on my skin. The sweat and the shortness of breath. The closeness and the climax and everything in between.

Last night, after our shower, we didn't touch. Not even once. I couldn't bring myself to reach out to him, his sadness and confusion radiating from him, it hurt to watch him suffer, though I don't understand it... I kept my distance. And he did the same.

With a shaking hand, I take the liberty of trailing my hand across his stomach once more before dipping my fingers slightly into the waist band of his pants.

Before I'm able to do anything else, or even realise he's awake enough to respond so quickly, he's snatched my hand, stopping it in its tracks. I bite my lip, wondering if I've gone too far, too soon. Last night's tension playing back in my mind.

He holds me still, my hand in his, pressed against the feverish skin of his stomach. My palm pulses against him, I count them as the seconds tick by.

I've counted thirty-two heartbeats before he makes his next move. Using his hold on my hand to coax me closer, his eyes still closed, letting me do all of the work.

I follow his lead, and pull myself on top of him, straddling his hips, my hand still firm in his grip as I settle. Feeling heat flood through me as our contact becomes intimate. He deftly turns his fingers with mine, lacing our hands together, he finally opens his eyes.

That's the look.

The one that sets me aflame, the one that makes my body scream out for his skillful hands, and relentless way of making me forget everything. Everything except for me, and him, and how our bodies move so astonishingly in sync. His lustful gaze makes me quiver slightly, which does sinful things to the both of us as our bodies press against each other, urging me to get closer, anyway that I can.

With his free hand he reaches up, sliding his finger around the side of my neck, his thumb drawing heated circles along my jaw as she stares up at me.

"You're here." He murmurs, this voice thick with sleep.

Leaning down, moving my hips slightly, creating friction between us. I place a slow kiss to the base of his throat, allowing the tip of my tongue to slide subtly across the dewy skin there, tasting him.

"What were you dreaming about?" I whisper against his chest, sliding our intertwined hands up and under his pillow, the coolness of the sheets there feels amazing against my hot fingers.

"Mmm..." He murmurs, incoherent, his eyes drifting closed once again. I move my hips against him once more, feeling him through the thin material that keeps us apart. This doesn't help him articulate; in fact he seems to forget the question for the moment.

"What was that?" I murmur, resting my chin against this chest, I peer up at him.

"You," He finally says, his body going rigid under me. I can feel his heavy mood weighing on the both of us. Not good.

"Me?"

He doesn't answer; instead he rolls us both over so he hovers over me, dominating like he loves to do. This is where he likes to be. But when I look up at him, he doesn't hold the same playful look he usually does, it's serious, almost pained.

I want to make it go away.

Slowly, gauging his reaction, I hitch my legs around his waist, pulling him against me.

"Caroline," He warns, there's an edge in the way he looks at me now, cautioning.

"Yes?" I blink up him, innocently.

"I can't..." He shakes his head, sitting up, pulling me along with him so I rest back on my elbows. "I can't focus right now." He's withdrawing himself, trying to put space between us.

"What is it?" I try to keep the hurt out of my voice. I try to ignore the itching voice in the back of my mind that tells me he resents me. He committed murder to save me.

Running his hands through his hair forcefully, he looks away from me, rubbing his jaw against his shoulder, closing his eyes, collecting himself.

"I almost lost you last night. I was almost too late..." He doesn't sound sad, he sounds pissed off.

"Is that what this is about?" I whisper, my nervousness subsiding only slightly.

But that's not all.

I remember the vacant look in his eyes as he watched the blood seep out of his white shirt, mixing with the water, turning the water an ominous shade of red. This runs deeper than me.

"Nik..." I reach up, my finger tips caressing his lips, watching as he relaxes slightly, air hissing through his lips at my touch. "Come back to me." I quote his words from the other night, and his eyes finally meet mine.

I wait for him to defrost, but he stays perfectly still, unmoving.

Okay. My way then.

Reaching for the hem of his t-shirt, I pull it up, exposing his abdomen, and chest. I try and push it up farther, but his eyes are on me again, guarded, and he makes no effort in helping me remove his clothes.

I give up in trying to undress him, and make an easy task of pulling my own t-shirt over my head, and tossing it aside. My nakedness is almost embarrassing. It's uncommon that when I've removed every shred of clothing, we aren't already caught up in a heated and passionate moment.

"Klaus," I say, sounding more nervous than I would like, "I need you to do something for me." My legs throb with desire, tightening around his hips, pressing him into me. The blank, indifferent expression on his face doesn't match with the evidence of his body. My core throbs with desire as I feel his mutual excitement against me, but he makes no advance. I hate how in control of himself he is. "I need you to touch me..."

God, please, I'm dying over here!

I press my lips into a tight line, holding my pleading words back, my body ready to spontaneous combust at any second.

He blinks down at me, his eyes finally focusing as they comb over my body beneath him, trembling with desire. With torturously slow movements, he slides his hand around waist, his finger tips barely touching me as his index finger draws a line from my navel all the way up in between my breasts, my stomach jumping into my throat.

Jesus.

Pausing, he drags his eyes slowly up to meet mine. My unmistakeable lust burns there, searing us both with my desperation.

"I'm distracted." His voice is hard, harder than I expected as he admits this defeat. I blink at his harshness, but don't let myself recoil. He opens him mouth, as if he wants to say more, but nothing comes out.

"Tell me." I whisper, taking hold of his hand the rests against my sternum, moving it over a few inches, his thumb brushing across the sensitive area there, making me shudder violently underneath him.

He shakes his head.

I want him to take me, like he did in the shower last night. Grab me, pin me, bite me, anything.

But his controlled movements are infuriating. He finally settles himself between my legs, my body screaming out in frustration when the material of his pajamas brushes against my center.

Lower himself onto me, resting on his elbows, he looks me in the eye. Boring into me with an intensity I can't understand. "I need you."

Holy shit.

"Then take me," I whisper, my hips rocking up to meet his, but when he pulls away from my advance, I groan loudly. Deprived of the contact, the friction, the touch of his hardness against me.

No, no, no, come back.

I let go of his hand, and he lets me. I reach for the waist of his pants, pushing them down his hips.

With a moan of frustration, he closes his eyes, keeping them closed until I've shed them completely. I wait for him, afraid of this part of him that could so easily walk away from this, leaving me burning in his bed. Alone.

With a long, drawn out breath, I feel his body react. Leaning in closer to me, as if of its own accord.

"Ahh hell." The voice of surrender.

Finally!

His mouth lowers to mine, his tongue tracing my lip greedily. I part them, allowing his exploration to further, I sigh into him, happiness wrapping around me, suffocating me.

"This?" He says against my mouth as he's now guided to my center. I burst into flames.

I nod twice, my eyes closing as I'm completely possessed by this urgency. Clutching to his shoulders, we share the air between us, in this moment, pain does not exist. Loss does not exist.

I take in a sharp breath as he moves torturously slow, his hand slipping down my leg like silk, his long fingers curling around the back of my knee, hitching me closer to him, the movement sending waves of unbridled pleasure through me.

And much too quickly, I'm wracked with the kind of release I can't comprehend, feeling my muscles mold around him, writhe against him; feeling his weight as he lets himself go. Breathing into me as we become still.

The sound of our hearts hammering wildly together, echoes throughout the room.

The pain and fervour from the last 24 hours threatens its way into this moment, but I push it away. This is ours. In this second my thoughts are only of the pure, euphoric haze we both lay drowning in.

Umm, wow.

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