A/N Alright, guys. This is the third, and final, installment in the Green Card Marriage series. Thank you so much to everybody who requested a sequel! I hope this lives up to expectations. I had requests for Caroline to stop being so stubborn, a thorough Genevieve thrashing, plenty of smut and maybe some fluff. Please let me know how I did in a review! They are my very best motivators! The lyrics are all from Nick Lache's album, What's Left of Me.
An empty room can be so deafening. The silence makes you wanna scream; it drives you crazy. I chased away the shadows of your name and burned the picture in the frame, but I couldn't save me. And how could we quit something we never even tried?
London was a shit town for a divorce. Klaus Mikaelson stared morosely out the window at the gloomy grey clouds drizzling down threats of snow in the bleak December air as he poured himself another drink. The papers had come in the mail that day. He'd been tempted to punch the courier in the face and send him on his way, but he thought better of it when she'd been a bubbly blonde that reminded him too much of the wife he'd left behind.
Caroline hadn't asked him to leave exactly... but she hadn't asked him to stay, either. He snorted into his bourbon as he thought about her ridiculous reaction to hearing how he felt about her. Wasn't a husband supposed to be in love with his wife? She'd assumed he'd said that for the benefit of the ICE agent stalking them; he hadn't. When he corrected that misconception, she'd recoiled in horror as if she'd been burned. He would never get the look in her crystal blue eyes out of his mind. He finally tore his gaze from the foggy glass and his eyes fell on the portrait he'd painted of the moment he knew she'd never love him.
That painting never stood a chance. When he threw his crystal tumbler at it with as much force as he could muster, her face tattered in ribbons of alcohol-drenched canvas that would never be the same. He would never be the same. She had irrevocably changed him, body and soul. Heart pounding, he picked up the papers and tore them in half before roughly tossing them in the fireplace where they crackled and burned along with his temper. Klaus Mikaelson did not go down without a fight, and since that's all Caroline Mikaelson knew how to do, oh he'd give her one...
I want you to burn; I want you to steal; I want you to bleed and see how it feels. I want you to beg; I want you to crawl, give more than you take and smile through it all. And know that everything you do, I do it for you.
She hadn't taken off her rings. The young blonde sat on the window seat of her Manhattan apartment bedroom and stared out at all the happy couples walking hand in hand as the first snow of the season began to fall. She was a brilliant woman, Caroline Mikaelson, but she was a fucking moron. Why had she let her husband walk out the door? It had been a mistake; she'd known it then. No, she hadn't said what he wanted to hear, but did she really need to? What was his obsession with hearing the words? He always wanted her to talk talk talk. Weren't women supposed to be the touchy-feely ones? Not in her marriage. In her life, she had a husband with an obsession with getting her to confess that she liked following him around on her hands and knees. She'd been called a control freak since she was in elementary school and planned the spring formal single handedly, but this was a whole different level. Yes, he'd bought himself a wife, but it wasn't a real marriage. It was all a game, an arrangement with some fun benefits she hated admitting were a beautiful distraction.
Well, it had been an arranged marriage. The lawyers had sent over the divorce papers, but she hadn't even opened them. They were sitting in the foyer untouched where they would remain until she could bring herself to sign them. There was no rush; Klaus was still paying all her bills and depositing a generous monthly allowance in her bank account. He hadn't taken any of her calls, but then again, she couldn't really blame him. She could have said, I like it, and he wouldn't have left. All he'd wanted was three little words, but he'd have settled on just one.
Stay.
Caroline wasn't a great communicator, but she should have been able to manage that much. She hadn't. Now, he was across the pond and out of her life. She missed him, and she hated that she missed him. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she buried her face in her fluffy sky-blue pajama pants and screeched. She had the penthouse all to herself; it didn't matter how loud she was. Their fights had certainly tested the bounds of their soundproof apartment. All but that last fight. Sure, they'd had sex before, but when he finally left, he did it without a sound. He'd looked at her sadly and shrugged, giving her one last chance to say that one word.
She hadn't.
Now, all Caroline wanted was for him to come back and scream at her one last time. She'd called a couple of times, but he hadn't picked up. She thought of texting about a million times a day, but what would she say? I'm sorry I was scared. No, that didn't seem quite right. I'm sorry I couldn't admit it. No, because that would imply she should have, and she didn't know how in the hell she felt about their games. All she knew was that she missed him. She stared down at the street and saw a couple holding hands and laughing at some joke she couldn't hear; that was her breaking point. She hadn't said one word and couldn't bring herself to say three, so instead, she sent two.
Come home.
So I'm picking up the pieces, and I'm trying not to cut my eager hands.
A low grumble emitted from the back of Klaus' throat as a third taxicab passed him on the streets outside La Guardia. He kicked himself for not flying into JFK and taking the train into Manhattan, but he'd been in a hurry and the next flight was leaving in twenty minutes. He'd stormed out of his London mansion a man on a mission. Of course, the whole "marriage rescue project" thing would've been a lot easier if he hadn't left his phone sitting on his desk beside the empty bottle of bourbon. He'd kill for a fucking Uber, but the best he could do was flash his dimples at the cute cab driver approaching and he got his way. She pulled up and he jumped in with his wife's address at the ready.
Ten minutes later, he realized he'd left his courage on the plane. He stared up at their massive apartment building on the Upper East Side and strongly considered hailing another cab. Instead, he strolled around the city until the sun began to set. There were couples everywhere enjoying the first snow. He and Caroline had gotten married last winter at a courthouse in Vegas. She'd deserved better, but time was of the essence. With the federal government breathing down his neck, he either needed to get married or get gone. In the end, he'd gotten both. Well, that would just have to change.
Klaus was a man who got what he wanted and he wanted his wife. Caroline was the most annoying thing that had ever happened to him; he couldn't live without her. Wouldn't live without her. He sat down on a park bench and buried his face in his hands, dragging his fingers through his dirty blonde curls that had gotten way too long. He smirked as he thought about what she'd have to say about his disheveled appearance. His waspy mother would clutch her chest and complain about heart problems. Caroline would flash her eyes and come at him with a pair of scissors. He smiled thinking about it and ruffled it even more.
Well somewhere in the night, there are a pair of lovers looking to see the ghosts of what we used to be. And somewhere in the night, back in another time, I'll smile as I rescue moments from my memory.
Esther Mikaelson had kept in touch with her daughter-in-law the entire five months that Klaus had been "away painting." She made sure the budding socialite attended all the right events and wore all the right dresses to fool the Upper East Side into believing she was one of them. No one had said a word to anyone about the divorce until Caroline had had to scurry down the back staircase to avoid running into Agent Genevieve Sorcière sans husband for the third time. The matriarch had politely invited her in and served high tea while explaining the happy couple had gone on a second honeymoon. It was obvious the vivacious redhead hadn't bought it, but there wasn't any proof to the contrary, so she'd left with a promise to return in two weeks.
That's when Esther had insisted they file the papers. Klaus had already retreated to London; divorce was inevitable. Given his outburst at the gala, it was obvious the petitioner had to be Caroline, but she hadn't wanted it. Hadn't even taken Elijah's call to discuss it. In the end, Katherine Pierce, her best friend, and the lawyer's girlfriend, had gone to the apartment to break the news that the deed was done. The blonde actress had been furious; Klaus had been devastated. Esther had decided it would be easier on her son if he didn't know his wife was secretly waiting for him to come home. Their marriage was doomed and disaster loomed imminent. The last thing she needed was a scandal on page six right before awards season.
The fact that the couple was miserable without each other mattered very little; they were collateral damage. The incident at the gala was the last time Caroline would ever humiliate her like that. She'd given them months to reconcile and they hadn't. Mommy Dearest did what she always did: unilaterally decided to destroy everyone in her path if it meant keeping up appearances. Her rouge daughter-in-law was so young – it was perfectly understandable that she wasn't ready to leave New York, and Klaus' career as an artist required so much travel as he sought inspiration across the sea. The Mikaelsons loved her dearly and respected her decision. She would always be one of the family, and of course, she would want for nothing as she pursued her dreams of attending NYU and becoming a famous actress. How generous of her, wasn't it? She was a saint among sinners, that Esther Mikaelson.
If only she had remembered her middle child's penchant for drama... and his wife's attraction to it.
Your pretty face is not enough; behind your eyes, I know you're lying. You think that love is all a bluff. You flash your smile and keep denying me.
Klaus took his time wandering the streets, each step encouraging him to walk closer to home. Caroline was home. It hadn't been all bad, their marriage. There were moments of camaraderie in which he knew she forgot how much she hated him. She loved posing for his paintings, especially when he dressed her up and made her look like the future Queen of Manhattan. And of course, there were all the nights at the theater. She'd been a drama major at Tisch when he'd swept her off her feet with promises of lots of money and a comfortable lifestyle. It had been a business arrangement, true, but he always did enjoy mixing business with pleasure.
Pleasure had never been a problem in their relationship. She submitted to him so easily when they were alone. By day, she led him around by the balls. By night, she got on her knees and worshipped at his feet. But come morning, she found her pants and wouldn't even consider taking them off again until after their next fight. Their battles were as explosive as her orgasms; they reveled in the fire of their passion. They were the same, Caroline and Klaus. As he watched a couple holding hands and laughing at the worst joke he'd ever heard, he steeled himself to brush passed the doorman and took the elevator all the way up without hesitation.
He felt her before he unlocked the door to the penthouse he'd left behind. Caroline was magnetic, the sun around which his world revolved. A small smile played about his lips as he entered their massive foyer and smelled her designer perfume. He'd missed the fragrant taste of roses and gardenia on her skin as he licked every inch of her from head to toe, savoring every drop of her affections for him. She could lie to herself all she wanted, but there was no denying the chemistry between them. There was no way she could yearn for his body the way she did and truly feel nothing for the man behind the penis. Walking passed the manila envelope on the side table containing the papers he didn't give a damn about, he strode into the bedroom with a confidence that dominated the air as it began to crackle. It took his breath away when he finally saw her sitting curled up on the window seat, phone clutched in her tiny hand.
And I want you, and I feel you crawling underneath my skin, like a hunger, like a burning, to find the place I've never been.
"I thought you were in London," she whispered in a small voice, eyes wide as her heart began to pound in her chest. She had just sent that text; how had he gotten there so fast?
"Clearly not." He closed the door behind him just shy of slamming it as he stalked towards her predatorially, making her nipples clench until she was painfully aware of the ratty clothes she was wearing.
Caroline hadn't exactly planned out how she would see him again, but it definitely didn't involve fuzzy pajama pants and one his old Henleys. Her momentary bout of self-consciousness faded as quickly as it had come as she took him is unkempt appearance. Her husband looked like shit. "What the hell happened to your hair? Are barbers in England not a thing?"
"It's my hair, sweetheart. I'll do what I want with it," he replied flippantly in the tone that always pissed her off. "I don't particularly give a damn if you like it or not."
The young blonde scoffed as she rose to her feet. "Seriously, Klaus? You flew across the ocean just to pick a fight with me?" His delighted smirk drove her to madness; she was so predictable.
"No, I took a skip across the pond because this is my home. Sorry, love, but I like it here, and I was here first." Her eyes narrowed at his childish attitude, but it only fueled his fire. "We had an arrangement, you and I, and in our contract, it states that I retain all properties and you get nothing if you leave early."
"If I leave early?!" she shouted in a piercing whine that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "You're the one who walked out on me!"
There. He saw the chink in her armor and knew that he had her. She wasn't indifferent; he could see it in every gesture of her face as it twisted up in anger at the mention of their contract. He studied her shrewdly as she stood there glaring at him, but he didn't say a word. He didn't need to – he'd already said all he had to say. It was her turn to talk, and like a good husband, he would wait. For someone with the communication skills of a trained sea otter, she never did learn how to keep quiet. It was only a matter of time.
The longer her husband stood silent, the harder it was to wait for her temper to come out to play. That's what Klaus and Caroline did – they played games. It was all they knew. He'd pick a fight, or she would, they'd scream and yell and sometimes break things, and then they'd have crazy hot sex to patch things up until it all fell apart the next day. But this was a different strategy, one she didn't know. He tilted his head to the side, expression blank as he drank in the sight of her. She was ravishing. She knew the look he was giving her, the way he was mentally undressing her with his eyes, but something about him felt… different. Vulnerable. Like he was waiting for her to make a move, but she didn't know the rules. And that's when it hit her: he didn't have his phone. He hadn't gotten the message that she wanted him to come home. It had seemed easier, texting, but it hadn't worked. She would have to talk about it. She looked at him expectantly, hoping he would say something, but he didn't. He just kept staring back, waiting for her to see the man in front of her.
Tell me, do you really know me? Do you really see me? When you forget, you're fighting on your own, but you are not alone.
The whirlwind of emotions was a wildfire consuming her as her mind spun in a haze of frenzied confusion. Finally, her features softened and she finally met his eye. "But you came back," she said quietly, worrying her lower lip. He took a step closer, and another, and another. The way she fidgeted was adorable and he reveled in the knowledge that she was finally nervous, but not because of him. "Why?"
A feral grin spread across his face as he closed the space between them, standing nose to nose with his beautiful wife. "It would seem I forgot something rather important."
The socialite sucked in a deep breath when his hand brushed hers. "What'd you forget?"
The artist's eyes flickered shut as their foreheads pressed together, the charged air between them surging through his veins. When he spoke, his lips grazed hers with every syllable that was so desperately real. "Why I left."
Caroline shivered when he kissed her so tenderly she nearly broke. But like always, her insecurities suddenly came rushing back. He hadn't gotten her message. What did he mean he forgot why he left? Was it because he wanted the apartment? Yeah, she knew she'd have to leave eventually, but he left first. Wasn't there some law about that? Like, seriously, was he really here to kick her to the curb? That was so totally not fair. And she was not going to stand for that.
Of course, by the time she mustered up the strength to pull away from his gentle embrace, even she knew that she was full of shit. But hey, fighting was just what they did, okay? The young girl pushed him away and held her palm up defensively, refusing to let him tug her back to his firm chest. "So, that's why you're here? You want the apartment?"
Are you there? Are you gone? Do you care? Is anybody home? Cause something's lost in your eyes. Are you blind? You're caught up in the lies.
"Have you lost your bloody mind?" He scoffed, rolling his eyes in exasperation as he spun on his heel, pinching the bridge of his nose to compose himself as he slowly shook his head. How could anybody that smart be so fucking dumb? It was the blonde; it had to be. Spinning back around, he threw up his hands and gawked at her. "Is that really what you think?" She crossed her arms over her chest and hmphed petulantly. "I don't give a damn about the apartment. Take it. Take everything! See if I care."
"That's it? I can just have it?" she asked in shock, sure he was just kidding. She really didn't know this game at all.
"Is that what you want, sweetheart?" he demanded with a low growl in the back of his throat that did nothing but excite her. "For me to leave?"
Caroline ran her hands through her hair and groaned as her skin came alive. "So, what, you came to New York just to back off when I ask you to?"
Klaus smiled without humor, stepping towards her once more. "No, I came to New York to pick a fight, as you so poetically put it, but I will leave, minus the fighting, in return for one small thing."
"And what is that?"
A small smirk twitched his upper lip as he bit back a smile at her ire. "I want your confession."
Mrs. Mikaelson looked at her husband in and shook her head. Why was he so obsessed with this? "My confession? I didn't do anything. Confession about what?" No. She was not admitting how much she wanted to fall on her knees and beg him to take her. Or beg him to stay.
"Me." She felt something ignite at that arrogant smirk. That damn, damn smirk. "As soon as we're done here, I'm going to walk away, and I'm never coming back." She gulped as her heart clenched. She didn't want him to go. "You'll never again have to look me in the eye and cover our connection with hostility or revulsion, and you'll never have to loathe the darkest parts of yourself that care for me, in spite of all we've done. I will be gone, and you will be free."
Klaus looked at her, searching her face for any sign of the woman he loved and who loved him. He averted his eyes and sighed when she said nothing. Looking back at her, he let his broken heart bleed onto the sleeve of his dark grey Henley. "I just… want you to be honest with me."
Caroline looked around their bedroom for something to help her find the strength to say the words, but she couldn't. "I'm going back to college," she deflected, flustered by a confounding maelstrom. "I'm going to build a life for myself. I have plans and a future, and things that I want, and none of those things involve you. Okay? None of them." He was supposed to be there for five years and that was it. She couldn't let something like great sex distract her from the fact that the Sword of Damocles was hanging over her wedding ring... the one she hadn't taken off.
The older man looked away, unable to face her as his heart sunk in his chest. He'd been wrong. How could she so passionately make love to him, but feel nothing? It didn't make sense. Maybe he was wrong for promising to leave. He shouldn't have pushed her; it had been stupid. Now, she was farther than ever even though they stood mere feet apart. Maybe he could take back what he said, offer to give her more time. Maybe she would agree to let him take it back, take all of it back. But what if she didn't?
"I see."
Why do dreams have to fade into all these shades of blue? Where I wait for you, pray love reaches through all these shades, shades of blue. Where you close your eyes, feel me by your side; I will wait for you in all these shades of blue.
Caroline groaned in frustration. Why was this so hard? Why was he so damn set on hearing her confess how much she liked submitting to him? It was all meant to be a stupid game, their sex life. Just something to pass the time until their contract expired along with their relationship. She wasn't a wife; she was an employee. An employee falling for her boss. God, it was so stupid, but she just couldn't let herself give in only to lose him all over again. The last five months had been hell. Not an hour had gone by that she hadn't missed the way he pinned her down and made her feel everything she shouldn't, all the while telling her it was ok. But it wasn't. She was Caroline Forbes before she was Mrs. Mikaelson. She was a strong and independent woman and she did not need a man to boss her around. Who would she be if she admitted that she liked it?
"No, you don't." She ran her fingers through her tangled curls and tried to figure out something to say that didn't make her sound as incredibly pathetic as she felt. But as usual, she couldn't do it. They knew only one way to communicate, and maybe that was the way to go now. It had always worked before, right? But he'd left the last time she'd tried that. Sighing, she decided she'd have to mix in a little truth. She hated talking about how she felt, but maybe that was the only way, so she took a chance.
"Yes, I do cover our connection with hostility; because yes, I hate myself for the truth." But why? Was it so awful that she liked what they did together? Yes, yes it was. It was not normal to let a man give her orders. She should not like it when he held her down or spanked her... but she did. She just couldn't face it... yet. "So, if you promise to walk away, like you said, and never come back, then yes. I will be honest with you. I will be honest with you about what I want." What did she want? She didn't want him to leave; she knew that, but she was stubborn, so even though her gut twisted, she held his gaze as he took a step closer and didn't back down.
It's hard to face the simple truth that time brings no relief, and time is all you need, you said. Had to go clear out your head while you're trying to decide if you'll come back to me.
Klaus' jaw twitched as he invaded her airspace. His wife was right there, but she was so far away. But, for the first time, he finally saw her clearly. He wasn't the one playing a game – she was. He could tell by the flushing of her cheeks that she was about to try something, and he knew that that was his way in. He needed her to come to him for a change, so he played along. "I will walk away, and I will never come back." With a coy smile, he lied through his teeth and covered his deception with a smug smirk that he knew would give her the final push she needed to close the space between them. "I promise."
Caroline looked him up and down. He was falling for it. All she needed was to get him into bed and things could go back to normal – or at least their version of normal. Whatever that was. Maybe she would have to swallow her pride and admit she liked what they did, but was that really the worst thing ever? It felt like it. Figuring it would be easier to admit it while they were in the throes of passion, she stepped forward and lied again. "Good."
She leaned in and kissed him, but he wasn't falling for it. Not this time. He'd seen his wife, the woman he loved. She was in there. There would be no more lies, no more denial, no more playing and then running away to hide in the closet. He didn't want her to be ashamed of the things he did to her. The things he did with her. The things she felt for him. In the beginning, he'd chocked it up to her sexual immaturity, but it was time to grow up. If she wanted him, he needed her to say that it meant more than that... and he was a man who got what he wanted.
I saw your heart is broken and tears are real; no words unspoken, say what you feel. The way you keep pretending is such a crime; you gotta give me what's mine.
"No, Caroline," he growled firmly when she pressed her lips to his. Pulling her back by the shoulders, his cerulean eyes bore deep into her sparking sapphires. "No more hiding behind your attraction to me. I've had enough." He inhaled a deep breath and steeled himself for the rejection he prayed wasn't coming but knew it might. "I love you. I'm in love with you. You're the love of my life." Her mouth fell open into a little 'o' and it took everything in him not to ravage her senseless, but it wasn't enough. She had all of him; he wanted all of her. "But if I'm not yours, then I will leave."
The younger woman stood there dumbstruck. What? He was talking about... what? She'd always thought he was talking about their sex life and wanting her to be an obedient little plaything – but he wasn't. He was in love with her? When had that happened? She thought back on their last fight and an epiphany hit her like a bolt of lightning. He'd meant it. He wasn't playing anymore. This was real. She was married to a man who was in love with her and it had nothing to do with sex.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she blinked a few times as she struggled to process what was happening. She had been wrong. He didn't care about her submission; he cared about her. When she finally looked up at him, she felt so small. In a tiny voice, she barely managed to squeak out, "But I thought you only married me to stay in the country."
Klaus looked away as he forced the lump in his throat back down his windpipe. What she'd said was true; it had been an arrangement, at first... but it was so much more than that now. She was so much more than that. His shoulders slumped as he plopped down next to her on the bed. They sat there in silence, thoughts reeling. How could he possibly explain to her how little he cared about their contract? She just didn't get it. Maybe she never would.
Tucking a leg beneath him, he turned to face her and took her tiny hand in his. He gently caressed her knuckles, waiting for her to meet his eyes. She tentatively peeked up at him from beneath long lashes and she suddenly looked so young. So fragile, so vulnerable. And that's when it hit him. She hadn't known it was real. They'd spent so much time playing games that she hadn't noticed when the rules changed. Maybe he hadn't even realized himself. It had been a surprise to him when the words had come tumbling out at the gala, even though he'd known deep down that he'd been falling for her for a long time.
Klaus loved their games. He reveled in it every time she got on her knees and looked up at him so sweetly, so obediently. Yes, that had been a game. He loved her fire. Maybe in the beginning he'd wanted her to just shut up and do as he said, but that was before he got to know her. He didn't mind when she led him around by the nose, even when his wretched mother was around, although he did hate knowing how immensely satisfying she found her bastard's predicament. What she didn't know was how little he cared after a while.
It went against the grain for the artist to do anything anybody told him to do. He was the epitome of an alpha male, but learning how to submit to Caroline had been surprisingly easy. It had only taken a couple of months for him to embrace her inherent dominance and love her for it. Sex was where he had the power because that was all he had. It was a tradeoff, their sex life. He got the bedroom and she got everywhere else. It was their little secret and he was fine with that. How in the hell had she thought any different?
It had been his fault, of course. He had been trying to get to her heart through her vagina. That had been his mistake. He'd let her believe that was all he wanted. When he'd asked for her confession, he'd wanted to hear what she was in love with him, but she'd thought he was talking about sex. Well, he would just have to correct that godawful misconception. The time for games was over. It was time to be honest with her about what he wanted.
Watch my life pass me by in the rear-view mirror. Pictures frozen in time are becoming clearer. I don't wanna waste another day stuck in the shadow of my mistakes.
"I did." He looked at her and shrugged. "Despite it's horrendous leadership, I love this country. I didn't want to leave. So, yes, I bought myself a wife so I could stay, but do you really think that's all I care about now?"
"Isn't it?"
"How can you possibly think that?" he asked in utter disbelief, squeezing her hand to reassure her when he saw her face falter.
"I mean, yeah..." Her voice trailed off awkwardly as she worried her lower lip. "I mean, no... I don't know." She pulled away to bury her face in her hands.
Expression softening, he pulled her to his chest and gently rubbed the soft cotton covering her back and kissed her golden curls. "I meant it when I said I loved you, sweetheart," he promised. Taking a deep breath, he took another chance. "But if you don't feel the same way-"
"I do," she said quickly, face buried in his neck. He was speechless. He just held her close and kissed her temple, waiting for her to emerge. It wasn't an easy thing, admitting she loved him, but she knew it was true. Had known it since the day he left. She hated herself for letting him leave, for being too weak to be honest with herself. But as the months dragged on, it was harder to lie to herself, and when he said it so sincerely, her walls came tumbling down.
All I want is something real that I can feel. I'm standing on the edge of my fear, and I see it clear. Here's my resolution: I'm letting go.
After a long while, she mumbled something into his neck, but he didn't quite catch it. He gently pulled her back by the shoulders and looked at her imploringly. She closed her eyes and embarrassment rolled through her. How could she have been so stupid? How could she think he was talking about sex when he was in love with her the entire time? Sighing, she continued her confession, knowing they needed to talk about it, dreading doing it. "I thought you were talking about… something else…" she trailed off lamely, face burning.
Klaus couldn't help but smile at the blush staining her porcelain cheeks. She was so adorable when she was shy. "You thought I was talking about how you like being my naughty little plaything." Caroline's crystal blue eyes snapped open, shocked by his candor. He chuckled at her and flashed a knowing smirk complete with sexy dimples. "It's not a crime to love what you cannot explain. There's nothing wrong with you. You're clearly the dominant one in our relationship, so who cares if you like to switch things up behind closed doors?"
"I care. What does it say about me that I like getting on my knees and letting you spank me like I'm some kind of sex poodle!?" He couldn't resist rolling his eyes and enjoying the way hers narrowed. "It is not funny."
"No, no, of course not." He did his best to bite back a grin, but he failed.
"Then stop laughing!"
"Sorry, sorry... It's just... sex poodle? Really?" Her eyes widened and she again buried her face in her hands. This time, he did force down his laughter as he wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her onto his lap so she was straddling him. "Caroline," he said in his dominant tone, sending shivers down her back as she squirmed on top of him. "Come out and talk to me. Hiding from yourself isn't going to make this go away."
Caroline reluctantly dropped her hands and placed them on his broad shoulders. He grazed his nails against the soft skin of her hips beneath her stolen Henley, delighting in the knowledge that she'd missed him enough to wear it. "I don't want you to think less of me," she confessed in a tiny voice. He felt his heart twist at her admission. How could she possibly think that? He loved how sweetly she submitted to him just as much as he enjoyed how she bossed him around. All of it made his cock twitch in his pants. She was perfect.
You're beautiful; that's all that I can say. Unforgettable, I'm caught in every way. Don't ever let the mirror tell you lies. Just look at your reflection through my eyes. You're beautiful.
Klaus firmly grabbed her chin in his thumb and forefinger and tilted her up to face him. She easily let him, but she kept her eyes gazing downwards. "Look at me," he commanded, waiting until she did to drop his hand back to her waist. "I could never think less of you. You're strong; you're beautiful; you're full of light. I enjoy you. All of you. I love the part of you that leads me around town, but I love the part of you that does what I say, too. And you have to admit, there is far more of the former than the latter. You're quite the bossy little thing, sweetheart."
Caroline's face finally split into a grin that matched his when a laugh burst out of her. "I'm not that bad."
"Your first instinct was to tell me to cut my hair," he pointed out with a raised brow.
"You do!" She ruffled his long curls, playfully pretending to cut them with fingers like scissors.
"Tomorrow, you can take me to the barbershop and have them do whatever you'd like," he agreed easily before his face morphed into an evil smirk. "But first..." She yelped when he flipped them over and pinned her down, hovering just above her face. "It's my turn to be in control." She giggled when he pressed his lips to hers, their kiss quickly turning passionate. He coaxed her lips open, licking at the seam until he pushed his tongue into her mouth. They explored every inch of each other, reveling in the familiar taste. His hand snaked up her shirt, happy to discover that she wasn't wearing a bra. He taunted and teased her nipples with the tips of his fingers, making her shiver. He molded and shaped her breasts, playing with her before pulling away with a devious spark behind blue eyes. "Take off your clothes."
Caroline sat up without hesitation and hurriedly grabbed at the hem of her shirt. "Slowly," he chided, grabbing her tiny hand as he sat back on his heels. "I want to watch, and I want you to watch me." He saw her balk and, well, that just wouldn't do. "Hey," he said softly but firmly. "I want to see you, to know that you're enjoying yourself. We don't have to do it tonight, but at some point, I want to hear from you. What you like, what you don't like, what you want to try. I'm interested. I want to know your every fantasy so I can give them to you. All of them. All you have to do is ask."
The young blonde bit her lower lip as she thought about it, face flaming before she finally nodded. "Ok... but not tonight, right?"
"Not tonight," he confirmed, shaking his head. "For tonight, I'm in charge. All I ask is that you do as I say. I promise I'll go easy on you." She wasn't sure she believed him. A rush went through her as he stared at her predatorially. It was fun being his prey. "So, we'll try this again. Eyes on me. Do it slowly." With a coy smile, she took her time dragging her shirt over her golden curls. "Stand up and back up a bit for the pants." His wife obediently got off the bed, wiggling her ass at him as she crawled to the edge. She squeaked when he slapped her cheek, grinning back at him over her shoulder. It was surprisingly easy, submitting to her husband now that she knew it would only ever be when they were alone. It made it harder to remember why she'd never talked to him about it in the first place. As she slowly slid off her pajamas, she held his gaze and fell to her knees without being told to crawl to his feet.
But no matter how I try, I can't hate you anymore...
"Good girl," he praised with an approving hum low in the back of his throat. He quickly tugged his Henley over his head and intentionally missed the hamper, smirking when she held her tongue and just glared at him. "You're learning," he teased playfully as he unbuckled his belt and quickly undid his jeans to free his cock. "Open your mouth." When she did, he coated her lips in his precum, Noticing how she was rubbing her thighs together, he toed her knees apart with the tip of his boots, smiling smugly when she looked up at him sheepishly. He raised an eyebrow at her and her mouth dropped. "Suck my cock, wife."
"Yes, husband." She blushed as her mouth fell down around his girthy shaft, surprised at how easy it had been to say the words... and mean them. A burst of arousal shot forth from the tip at her reply; she pulled back and graphically ran her tongue around his head, obviously enjoying the taste of his reaction. Communication wasn't so bad, especially when her mouth was occupied as it was all done with her eyes as she stared transfixed as his gaze grew hazy.
Paper houses and fallen angels, and times you can't see in front of you. Wasted moments, tried to be someone I never wanted to be for you. But I feel my world coming back to life; my eyes are finally open again. Now I see it all in a different light.
Klaus wound his fingers in her hair and set the pace, guiding her lips up and down his cock as she swirled his tongue around. "You may use your hands now," he huffed, his breathing ragged. She immediately complied, wrapping her fingers around the base and palming his balls as she enthusiastically worked him over. "Fuck, Caroline. You have no idea how beautiful you are, kneeling for me and sucking my cock like a good little wife. You enjoy it, don't you? Watching how much I love this, how much I love you. Admit it." She bobbed her head up and down, moaning at the sharp tugs he delivered to her hair as he bucked his hips, pounding in and out of her face in a punishing rhythm. Her whimpers of pleasure at his rough handling pushed him over the edge, eyes flashing as she watched him spill his seed down her throat, pulling out just in time to leave a small thread dribbling down her chin. "Leave it," he commanded, enjoying her furiously flushing face as she obediently placed her hands on her thighs, squirming to gain any kind of friction.
"I warned you about that," he tutted, yanking her up by the hair to straddle his lap. She yelped but laughed when he sharply nipped at her ear, eyes dancing with mischief.
"I'm not a great listener," she teased playfully, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"We'll have to work on that." His eyes flashed as he dragged his nails down the smooth skin of her belly, loving that she was finally talking to him... and looking at him instead of running off ashamed. He teased her bare lips, drawing out tiny whines as she tried to stay still. A devious grin brought out his dimples as he brushed his finger far too lightly over her clit. Before she knew what was happening, he had her bent over his lap, hand fisted in her curls to make her face him. "This is what happens to naughty little sex poodles when they disobey their husbands."
"Ohmigod, you can't call me-"
"It was your term, pet," he reminded her as he delivered the first slap. "I'll call you whatever I like, and you will thank me for it." She nodded her head as best she could while pinned down. He rewarded her with a harder strike. "Out loud."
Caroline's eyes widened, her face and neck bright red at the sheer humiliation of his demand. She loved it. "You want me to..."
"Thank me for spanking you." To drive home his point, he slapped each cheek a dozen more times as he waited for her to speak.
Gulping, she closed her eyes and whispered, "Thank you."
"For?" Slap, slap, slap, wait, slap again. The sound of her spanking filled the air as her arousal assaulted his senses. He continued until her cheeks were bright red and she was panting, pussy burning as she ached for the relief he'd make her earn. He looked down and grinned at her glistening lips and knew she was as happy as he was.
Finally, when the slaps stung just a bit too much, she reluctantly did as he asked. "Thank you for spanking me, husband."
"Good girl," he praised, smirking at the way he face lit up. She loved seeing him proud. He spanked her hard just a few more times, making her moan as her body craved more. With a final slap that left a blazing handprint, he pulled her back up to his lap, reveling in the way she squirmed against the soreness of her ass. Oh, how he would love running his hands over her bruises the next day as he made her look in the mirror to remind her how easily she'd submitted. "I was gone nearly half a year. I wonder, what exactly did you do to satisfy yourself in that time? I know better than to think there was anyone else, but something tells me you weren't entirely alone."
Caroline's jaw dropped at the implication, knowing it was true. She looked away, mortified as she gulped, but he quickly tugged her curls to make her face him. "That's what I thought. Be a good girl and go fetch whatever it is you've been using to pleasure yourself in my absence."
"Klaus..."
"Now." Fuck. She was beyond humiliated, but everything in her screamed to obey. She swallowed down her embarrassment and slowly climbed off of him. "On your knees." Her skin burned as she complied, but she was caring less and less. She was alone in her bedroom with her husband who loved her. She told herself it was ok as she forced herself to open the top drawer of her dresser on the far side of the bedroom. She looked over her bare shoulder and saw his encouraging nod. It gave her the courage she needed to sift through her underwear drawer and pull out a vibrating egg with pink rabbit ears and a small vibrating dildo.
Klaus damn near grew hard again just at the sight of her holding the little pink toys in her tiny hands. "Be a bit difficult to carry both while crawling. Best put one in your mouth." She gaped at him in surprise, but his raised brow was a dare she couldn't refuse. Straightening her shoulders, she held his gaze as she put the smooth silicone shaft in her mouth and clutched the egg in her fist as she awkwardly made her way back to him. He held out his palm and she obediently placed it in his hand. "Well done, poodle," he praised, grinning down at her happy coo. He cocked his head at their bed. "Up." He got up to give her space to lift herself onto the mattress. Walking towards the closet, he tossed over his shoulder, "Legs spread, wrists crossed over your head." He smirked when she did it even though he wasn't watching.
It's strange; it's not even sadness to accept the things you cannot understand.
This was new. Not only had he never used any real toys on her, but she'd certainly never waited patiently for him to tie her up. He'd used things that were laying around, like the ruler in the office at the gala, or a hairbrush on occasion, but never anything so formal. She'd made it about a week without him before breaking down and texting Kat to bring something. The sassy brunette had shown up half an hour later with a dozen toys, most of which terrified her. Thankfully, she'd left with most of them. She'd have been mortified if Klaus had seen everything her best friend had brought... at least, that's what she told herself as she held her legs apart. She idly wondered if Kat still had them the longer he was rifling around in the closet.
Caroline's core clenched when he emerged with a handful of his designer ties and a devious smirk. He tucked a leg beneath him and set to work binding her wrists in an intricate knot. She watched his handiwork, impressed; he clearly knew what he was doing. He'd always bound her arms behind her back so she wouldn't have to look at him, so she hadn't paid too much attention to how he did it. He smiled warmly at her when he caught her watching him. Satisfied that she couldn't move, he did the same to each of her ankles. Her body trembled when he pressed kisses up the inside of her legs, nibbling on her tender flesh all the way up to where she wanted him most.
She should've known it wouldn't be that easy. With a satisfied smirk at her tiny groan of frustration, he took his time kicking off his boots before settling back on his heels. She gazed at his tattoo of a feather bird exploding into a flock of birds, eyes hungry. He tied a knot at the top of each tie before forming a loop with the bottom and winding it around his hands. "Eyes on me," he reminded as he gently ran the silk between her soaked thighs, barely grazing her lips.
"I'll have to send these to the cleaners tomorrow. You're positively soaked for me, love," he teased lightheartedly, grinning with dimples when she blushed furiously, looking away. She yelped when the knot sharply tapped the inside of her knee. "Eyes on me." The shy blonde bit down on her lower lip and slowly brought her gaze back to her husband. The artist rewarded her obedience with gentle lashes to her nipples, making them diamonds as he gazed at her hungrily. He slowly glided the silk all over her smooth skin, occasionally smacking her with the knots as he worked her into a frenzy.
Silk was everywhere. She moaned when he landed the knot right on her clit, making her body jump. She was lost in sensation when he started swirling them over her entire body in a figure eight pattern and it made her wonder how many of his skills she hadn't seen. Maybe talking wouldn't be so bad if it meant finding out. Her stiff nipples and velvet folds stung by the time he finally tossed them over his shoulders as he got to his feet to kick off his jeans. She stared hungrily at his cock and he seriously debated having her suck it again before settling between her thighs on his elbows.
"Did you enjoy that?"
"Yes." Her voice was more confident now; there was no judgment in his eyes, only curiosity.
"Good." She jumped when she felt a buzz on the inside of her ankle. She peered down and saw the pink silicone bunny ears making their way up her legs. He briefly stopped to reward her with a few strokes to her pussy, but he moved on all too quickly to her nipples. He held the ears clamped around one rosy bud as he repeated the pattern with the small dildo, the vibrations making her ache. "Do you want me to fuck you with your little toys, Caroline?"
"Mmhmm," she hummed, body trembling as he teased her opening with the vibrator, dragging the ears down her flat abs. "I mean, yes husband," she corrected herself.
"There's my happy little wife, so obedient, so sweet. You look so lovely spread wide open for me, pussy drenched, ass red. Be sure to keep your eyes on me. I'd hate to have to take you over my knee again." They both knew it was a lie, but she found that her cheeks didn't burn quite as hot as before as she stared down at him. "I'm going to make you come, but only when I say, and only when you ask me nicely. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?"
"Yes," she agreed, vehemently nodding her head as he circled her entrance with the dildo, the ears dangerous close to where she wanted them.
Klaus smiled in smug satisfaction at her easy answer. Progress. She shivered when he finally pushed the dildo inside of her, moaning loudly when he turned up the vibrations. The toy slid effortlessly in and out of her; she'd been soaked for hours. He pumped into her core as he glided the ears around her clit in tiny circles, teasing her endlessly. Her legs shook; he smiled. When she was whimpering in a steady rhythm as he moved deeper inside of her, he finally spoke. "Ask me nicely."
Gulping, she gave it a try, desperate to come. "Please, Klaus," she whispered, face speaking volumes as she silently begged for more.
"You can do better." A low rumbled escaped from the back of her throat when he switched up the angle to hit one of her favorite spots.
"Please, husband?" she tried again tentatively.
"Nice try," he teased, fucking her pussy harder and harder. "You know what I want, sweetheart. Just let go. It will be worth it, I assure you." She whimpered, knowing he was right. Fuck it. She wanted to come, so she gave up and gave in.
You got it all, but still you long for more, and your cry, so desperate for your place among the stars.
"Please fuck me, Klaus. Please play with my... pussy... and make me come. Please." She stumbled a bit over the filthy word, but he didn't seem to mind. Probably even wanted her uncomfortable. He loved this, loved pushing her, loved making her want him more. "Please..." She looked at him, desperation painted all over her flushed features. "Please, husband, please. I need more. Please play with my clit. Please do it harder. Please."
"With pleasure." Suddenly, he was fucking her hard and fast, the bunny ears spinning around her glistening pearl until she was shaking uncontrollably, toes curling into the mattress despite the ties binding her in place. "Come for me, sweetheart," he cooed, tossing the rabbit aside to latch his lips around her tiny bud, sucking hard and fast as he added a finger to the toy and stretched her wide.
"KLAUS!" She cried out his name as an explosive orgasm washed over her, every inch of her on fire as she gushed all over his hand, her arousal coating his tongue as he lapped at her pussy, a man starved. He'd missed her taste, missed the way she twitched long after she stopped coming as wave after wave took her breath away. He pumped into her at a brutal pace until she finally stopped, chest heaving as her nipples tingled.
"Tell me," he began conversationally as he pulled the toy out of her warm center, "is that what you did when you were alone? Or, was there more?"
The socialite looked down at him dreamily, not entirely sure she understood what talking was anymore. "Huh?" Her eyes focused a little bit when he dragged the dildo through her folds and circled her anus. "Oh, yeah, I did that, too," she freely admitted. "Can you do that, too?"
"Was that an actual request?" He chuckled when she hummed her assent, lifting her hips to give him better access. "As the lady wishes," he agreed mischievously. He climbed on top of her, caging her in with his strong arms. Kissing her passionately, he pressed the toy inside of her. She keened against his mouth as he built her up, taunting her just the way she liked. She was magnificent. He molded and shaped her breasts in his free hand, tweaking her nipples as she lay bound and spread and his.
And she was. His. It had taken a long time, but when he finally cast the toy aside and slipped inside her ass, all her shame was gone. He quickly tugged at the knot holding her down and delighted in it when she eagerly wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth to hers in a bruising kiss full of passion and fire. He did the same to the silk at her ankles and she wasted no time engulfing him with her legs, angling her hips to meet him thrust for thrust. He snaked his hand between their slick bodies and circled her clit, not stopping until she came all around his thick cock as he penetrated her anus in harsh pumps until she was crying out his name.
Klaus pulled away to gaze down at her lovely face, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "I love you."
"I love you, too," she replied easily, kissing him again, softer this time. "I missed you." Kiss. Lips. Tongues dancing like wildfire. "Please get inside my pussy." There was no more shame, no more guilt, nothing but the two of them in their own little world inside a penthouse in Manhattan. She'd been there all along, but with him on top of her, she finally found her way home.
Runnin' from myself until you gave me a reason for standing still.
Mr. Mikaelson obliged without hesitation, groaning when he filled her fleshy walls with his wide girth, eyes on hers. He pumped into her in a steady rhythm, watching her closely as she finally completely gave herself to him. She moaned as she tightened her grip on his hips, eagerly parting her lips to give him full access to her mouth when he tugged down her lower lip with his teeth. His tongue massaged hers as they moved together like man and wife. Their time apart had damn near broken him, but it was worth it if this was where it had gotten them. He penetrated her in a sensual rhythm as they rutted and groaned in unison. His cock was painfully hard, but he'd missed her so much that he didn't want to end so soon.
The artist's mouth dipped down to suckle a nipple and she keened beneath him. "I really like it when you do that." He smirked against her breast, his overgrown stubble tickling her as he applied more pressure, biting down with his teeth. She arched her back against him and came as soon as he rubbed her clit with his thumb. Her walls clamped down around him and it pushed him over the edge. He spilled his seed deep inside her pulsing channel, pumping hard and fast under she was screaming out her pleasure as she drenched his cock in a euphoric rush that left both of them panting.
It took a long time before their lungs stopped aching enough for Klaus to pull out of his wife. He looked over at her and they both laughed, elated with their reconciliation. He tucked a curl behind her ear as he lay down to face her on the pillow. She tilted her head to kiss his wrist and he smiled at her. "Alright, then?" he asked tentatively, a tinge of insecurity in his voice that made her heart clench. She'd spent so much time running from him, from herself, wasted so much time. Stupid.
"I'm good." She pecked him on the lips and settled on his shoulder, smiling up at him. She pulled the fluffy down comforter over them and snuggled into it. "There is one question I have, though."
"Ask me anything."
"You might think it's stupid…" she trailed off shyly, worrying her lower lip.
Klaus shook his head and pulled her lip from between her perfect teeth. "Impossible. Ask me."
"Well, you said we really are married, right?" She looked over at him with a coy smile, trailing her fingers lightly up and down his biceps. He knew that look. She was up to something. "Like, for more than our contract?"
"Always and forever," he promised, eyes locked on hers as he silently implored her to share whatever secret she was hiding.
"In that case, I have a request." She flashed him her Miss Mystic smile and he couldn't help but chuckle. He raised his eyebrows and she already knew the answer was yes. "I want a wedding." She placed a firm finger over his lips before he could answer and looked at him sternly. "A real one. Not a quickie in Vegas. I want a fluffy white dress, and roses, and doves, and your mother freaking out that Kol will embarrass her by drinking too much, and then I want him to do something really stupid so she has to cover it up, and I want Rebekah there crying alongside Freya, and I want Finn there looking pissed that we're so disgustingly happy he could puke, and then I want Elijah to puke when Kat inevitably tells him they're next and-"
"And you shall have all of it," he agreed easily, amused by her rambling. "So bossy," he teased. "I thought I was in charge in the bedroom."
"You are," she laughed, yelping when he slapped her on the sore ass beneath the covers. "But we aren't getting married in the penthouse. I want a big wedding on Madison Avenue with absurdly large shrimp and a cake bigger than me."
"And I bet you've had this planned since you were four years old." He shook his head, knowing what a disaster enduring her endless preparations would be… but he couldn't wait. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. But, tell me, does this involve a second honeymoon?" His topaz eyes flashed as he thought about how long he would need to keep her in the bedroom to compensate for her obsessive planning.
Caroline's face lit up at the prospect of a real vacation with her husband. "Yes, but I get to pick, deal?"
Klaus chuckled at her obvious excitement. "I'll take you anywhere you want to go. Rome, Paris, Tokyo?" He could see the wheels turning as she debated which one she wanted. "You don't have to decide now. Wherever you go, I will follow. I want to be a good husband to you, Caroline. No more running away from each other. I want to know everything there is to know about you: your hopes, your dreams, everything you want in life. And when something's wrong, I want you to tell me that, too. Whatever struggles you face, even if they're with me, I want to know. We'll work it out, whatever it is. Deal?"
The actress paused as though it was something she really had to think about, but they both knew she was sold. Whatever happened, they would be together, and that was all that mattered. "Deal." He leaned over and kissed her, and he kept kissing her, and kissing her, until they fell asleep in each other's arms.
She was still there in the morning.
When you're blinded by this jaded world, I'll be your eyes. Even if you fall, I won't let you break. When all the noise is telling you to run away, run to me.
Three weeks later, Klaus looked back fondly on their shotgun wedding and idly wondered why he had ever agreed to let his wife plan the event of the century. But when she walked out of the bedroom naked with only his tie artfully wrapped around her neck, matching silk on her wrists and ankles, he remembered. She was carrying three color-coordinated four-inch binders rife with post-its and colorful tabs; it made him so miserable to be happy. After half an hour of listening to her drone on and on about how the fine china needed to match the feathers of the doves exactly, he'd had enough for one morning.
The artist reached over the desk and tugged her to him by the tie around her neck. She yelped as her binder fell to the floor when she flew so very voluntarily to his lap. "But we haven't even gotten to the cutlery yet!" she complained, shivering as his nails grazed up the bare skin of her hips.
Growling, he pulled her forward by the silk and shut her up with a bruising kiss, his tongue attacking hers until her body melted, legs spreading so easily for him these days. "Talk to me about it after you come on my cock like a good little sex poodle," he whispered seductively against her lips as his thumb began to circle her clit. She blushed at the epithet, but he'd used it so many times since her ridiculous confession that it was more endearing than taunting. There were worse things than being Klaus Mikaelson's sex poodle.
Caroline moaned when he suddenly pushed two fingers inside her and began moving them in and out in a punishing rhythm. His teeth grazed down her neck, nipping her all the way to her breasts. He latched his mouth around her diamond and she was gone, rocking her hips in time with his thrusts as she came on his fingers for the third time that day. They fought, then they fucked, then they did it again. It was their thing, and some things never change. She'd barely come down from her high when he pulled her down on his cock. He pulled away from her nipples and replaced his mouth with his talented fingers, molding and shaping her breasts as she rode him up and down. When his eyes locked on hers, she grinned and only blushed a little bit. That was his favorite part, watching her fall apart for him. She was yet to find any judgment behind his cerulean orbs, only interest as he questioned her about all she liked. They'd talk about so many deliciously filthy things, and had even done some of them, but his list of what he wanted to do with her was as endless as her binders.
Klaus bucked his hips up into his wife, matching her thrust for thrust as they stared at each other. He reached down to circle her clit, one hand kneading the soft flesh of her ass, and she responded by increasing the pace even move. She tugged at his curls as she pulled his mouth to hers, all the blood rushing to her sensitive little blood as another orgasm overtook her. Her fleshy walls clamped down around his cock and he grabbed her hips to move her up and down as her body locked up. Chasing his own high, he furiously pounded up into her until he joined her over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside her pulsing channel. They sat there, chests heaving, and they were happy. He pulled back to kiss her one last time and she saw only love and wonderment shining back at her.
And did I ever tell you, I'm better to have known you? I don't want to change you cause I'm proud of who you are. I never loved you more than I do today.
"Good sex poodle," he teased, earning him a bright red flush as she buried her face in his neck, giggling giddily as euphoric bliss swathed them in comfort. "I love you, sweetheart."
"I love you, too." A knock at the door made them both glare at the foyer. "And that I hate. Is your mother ever going to learn to call first?" she moaned as she reluctantly crawled off of him. He smacked her ass hard on her way to the bedroom.
"At least she knocks now," he chuckled with a devious grin as they shared a knowing smile.
"Ever since the incident with her antique mixing tools or whatever," she laughed as she emerged in a short silk bathrobe. They'd discovered that if Esther realized she'd interrupted their freaky sex games, she'd leave in a hurry.
"It was an ancient Norse mortar and pestle she inherited from my crazy Aunt Dahlia," he reminded her as she resumed her role sifting through binders, clearly refusing to be the one to answer the door for the Mikaelson matriarch.
"I think we put it to better use than whatever crazy voodoo that old coot was up to," she teased lightly, blushing a little bit at the memory. "And she deserved it after that trick with the divorce papers. Bitch."
"Pestles make excellent sex toys. I'm surprised you never thought of it," he joked. They'd improvised a lot over the last few weeks. She still blushed too furiously every time he opened up an adult website and showed her the real thing. He'd been dying to get her into a pair of nipple clamps, but the clamps on her greasy potato chip bags were as far as he'd gotten. Ah, well, they had time. They had a lifetime.
Klaus' impish grin faded when he opened the door to an obnoxious redhead in an ill-fitting tailored dress suit. "Agent Sorcière, what an unpleasant surprise," he greeted coldly as she waltzed right passed him.
"Mr. Mikaelson." Her tone formal with just a tinge of disappointment as she took in his disheveled appearance, nose curling in disapproval at the lipstick staining his shirt collar. "You're back in town… finally. I was starting to think you'd taken my advice and gone back to England. At least, that's what your passport said." She smirked at the low grumble that emitted from the back of his throat. "Couldn't help but notice your wife didn't update hers until last week. I couldn't help but wonder if she wasn't headed off for somewhere else."
"He was scouting out locations for our second wedding," Caroline said with a smug smile as she walked into the living room, binders in hand as he robe rode up dangerously high on her thighs, sash untied just enough to make it very obvious she was naked underneath the finely embroidered silk. "We can't decide if we should have the ceremony here or in London. Since we'll have been married for over a year, the new laws qualify me for dual citizenship." She reveled in the way Genevieve's cheeks flushed in anger at the obviously happy couple. Ignoring the agent, she barked at her husband, "But we aren't going anywhere until we settle on the cutlery!" He rolled his eyes as he turned his back on their uninvited visitor and looked down at the eighteen different selections she'd printed out and color-coordinated by brand and silver grade.
"Sweetheart, they're forks. Just pick one."
"They are not just forks!" she complained, narrowing her sapphire eyes at his aloofness at what was so obviously important. "If they don't match the china, people will look at us like we're badly dressed government agents!" Tossing a sneer over her husband's shoulder, she added, "Nice neckerchief."
Genevieve crossed her arms over her chest and hmphed petulantly, chipped red nails flashing under the elegant chandelier. "And I thought Klaus was the bossy one. Takes a real man to let his wife lead him around by the balls. Guess we know who wears the pants in this relationship." She smiled in smug satisfaction at the minute twitching of his jaw, but it was only because he was fighting back a laugh.
"I'm not wearing pants," Caroline replied cheekily. She passed off the binders and stalked towards the redhead. She flashed her green eyes but backed closer towards the door. "We fight and we fuck and then we stay married," she spat back the agent's words from the gala with as much vitriol as she could muster while barely dressed. "And since you can see that, your business is here is done." She opened the front door and cocked her head at the hallway. "We have a wedding to plan. And Genevieve?" The agent turned back and raised a challenging brow at the bride. "You're not invited."
Klaus chuckled at her shocked expression as the door slammed in her face. He set down the binders on the side table, careful not to knock out any post-its lest he incur her blonde wrath. "That was quite the show, love. I'm impressed. Fearsome little thing, aren't you?"
Caroline leaned into him easily when he wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her gently on the lips. "Yeah, only I get to tell you I'm the boss." He quickly untied her sash, baring her to him. "Well, sometimes." Her eyebrows wiggled at him as she let him lead her to the bedroom by the tie. Their marriage was a trade-off. It wasn't what he had expected, spending most of the time bowing down to a wife, but it worked. He had the bedroom, and the desk, and the kitchen table, and the shower, and the couch… but she had everything else.
And he surprisingly ok with that.
You can have what's left of me.