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klaus mikaelson

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Are you coming over?

It's the text that makes her chew on her lip, that makes her type four answers and delete them and then type again and then delete that, because it's not so simple as yes or no, and she's spent the last four hours going what am I doing and being weirdly girl-power-self-affirming because she's making a choice for herself, but then wondering what the hell Bonnie and Elena would say, and then wondering what Tyler would do, but she's not thinking about Tyler, because she's not letting her think about Tyler, because- because. Because she's not. Because she doesn't love Klaus, she loves Tyler, but this thing she's got isn't dating, and-

And it's sort of crazy. Of course it's crazy.

But he sends her a text asking her if she's coming over, and she starts tearing through her clothes after she goes back and forth, but she just sort of gives up, and ends up in leggings and a t-shirt that's belted like a dress and flipflops, but she's got makeup on and she's trying to balance between not looking like she tried too hard or too much, and looking nice.

It's a delicate line, and as she's walking to his room, she walks halfway, and then turns around and walks back, and then stopped again, turning back, because she's going to do this, and when she gets to his room, she hesitates but the door's open and she's got a pillow under her arm because it's hers and she just goes in. "I'm spending the night," she informs him, and she looks at him like What're you going to do about it? and she sort of flops into one of his chairs, folding up her feet, like she wasn't here like six hours ago.

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That's what makes her blush so much, the looking, and even though she's hardly some virgin (frankly, she's not been for a couple of years and she's mostly got a pretty good sex life if you ask her) there's something weird about this that makes her self concious. It's like when he says that she's beautiful- like that, no hesitation, no nothing- it makes her want to crawl somewhere and hide, but she doesn't because she wants to be with him. She moans when his thigh presses against her, when she finally gets some sort of contact, and she's obviously just as into this as he is.

The kiss has changed to something needy, the sound that slips into his mouth is not quite a whine but close. She pulls back, staring up at him. "I know you want to wait, and that's mostly okay, but I feel like if I have to wait more I'm going to die," she says it with raised eyebrows, and she looks a little more puppy-eyes then she means to, but she flexes her hips without thinking, and she makes a choked sound in her throat, her teeth digging into her lip.

The way she puts it makes his lips quirk up, eyes shining warm with amusement. "And we wouldn't want that." Especially when she is already making that kind of sound, and he wants more of them. He smiles, and kisses her, but briefly so that he can move, so he's properly between her legs and he's kissing her again, leaning on the one arm so he can line himself up, and he's looking at her as he rubs against her to spread her folds, and how wet she is makes him die to push in, but since he's rubbing against her clit he keeps at it a little longer, but not too long. Before she has to ask again, he is pushing inside of her, slowly, because he wants to feel every inch of her enveloping him in her perfect warmth, and they're not kissing but their breaths are mingling in what little space there is between their lips, hot on hot, and this time it's him saying her name like it's a prayer, Caroline...

Her voice catches in her throat as he kisses her, and then he's there and her thigh slides up his hip, her foot skimming the back of his calf. She thinks that this is it, that she'll get what she wants, that all of these things they've been doing are coming to culmination - but he teases her, he makes her squirm and gasp her nails raking up his shoulder harder than before.

And then finally, finally he shifts and she can feel him, and she can't stop the low, gasping, almost hiccuping moan, and he says her name and she's leaning up to kiss him, brief and needy as her leg slips around his hips and she flexes up against him. "Oh God," she murmurs, her eyes searching his.

"Not God," he assures her with a hint of a smile, there and then gone, but his voice is hoarse and strained and it's all he can do not to move straight away. His pupils are a little dilated, and his gaze is a little off, a little dazed, like he's a little beside himself, and that's exactly it, because usually he controls himself, and it's difficult right this moment. He ends up closing his eyes, his brow against hers, and just breathing for a few seconds, because he has to take a break, to focus on the sensations and make them a part of him instead of something that throws him. Eventually he kisses her, again, longer, and he starts moving, slow, deep thrusts that make him feel like his whole world is rocking with each one, and he's focused on her with everything he's got, because he doesn't know what she likes yet, and he wants to figure it out.

Her breath is stuck in her throat, and she makes a strangled noise as she stares up at him, and she knows something is off, she can see it in his eyes before his forehead touches hers and her fingers slide through his hair, her voice hoarse and thick but still concerned. "What is it?" She's trying to hold still, but she flexes around him and she can't silence the tiny sound she makes even though she tries, but then he moves, and she gasps.

It's clear from the way she acts and sounds and responds that she is no blushing flower, she is not made of spun glass. She's got her nails in his lower back, and she doesn't know what she's asking for exactly when she breathes Please into his ear.

He's making her pant and beg and she's all twisted in knots, and she feels it happen, her face get hot and her fangs slip out. She doesn't want it because she thinks he'll stop and she's fighting it even as she doesn't want him to stop. They should have talked about it, she should be control -r-us, but all she'd been able to think about before she slips up is that she desperately wants to make him feel as good as she does, because this pretty much wins all he best sex awards. But now? She's just this mess of emotions and feelings and she begs, her voice low in his ear to keep her mind off of it, "Harder- please?"

Moving again is not his only answer to her question, there's that and a kiss and a whispered 'Nothing' against her lips that is supported by the way he slides in and out of her, hips rolling with each thrust. He's finding his balance and he thinks that he could do that for hours, too - introduce her to tantric sex - but he's fairly certain she won't have it, not now at least.

And then her face shifts, and his hips stutter, and it's a new wave of arousal that's just slammed through him. He's thankful for the pain in his lower back from her nails, because it's something else to focus on besides how good she feels and how much he wants to let his fangs drop and sink them into her neck.

"Go on," he tells her, eyes on her dark ones, and she's so fucking beautiful but he won't shift, because he knows what he's telling her, but he doesn't know if she would know what she's telling him, and he's never had to exercice so much control before. He tilts his head slightly to the side, so she can have at his neck, and then he thrusts in, sharper and harder than before, giving her exactly what she's asked for, and it's gorgeous and overwhelming and he thinks he might fang out unless she bites him, now.

She's pressing her cheek to his neck, and she's trying to lose herself in the feeling so she doesn't do it, so she isn't him and she doesn't let herself think Damon's name, not now, but she doesn't understand that Klaus is trying to get her to do it, to let go. She's gasping as he gives her what she wants, and it almost everything she wants but it's not enough- her control is slipping but she's not going to give in, and her legs tighten around his hips as she tries to force it away, tries not to hunger for him, and lose herself in what he's doing, not what she is.

"Caroline," he growls, when she doesn't, and he feels the shift, eyes wolf-golden now, fangs dropping, and her neck is right there and he could just - "Bite me," he gets out, voice low and demanding and desperate all at once, hips snapping punctuation onto the end of that, another sharp, hard thrust, and another, and - "Bite me," again, but with more steel to it, because otherwise he's biting her.

The movement of his hips is making her tremble, it's making her gasp and her nails rake up his back, and she can feel it, can feel herself getting closer, but then he says it, he says she should bite him and it all goes sideways because her face twists- and it's clear she's trying to fight it as she says, "But-" and then he says it again, growls it, those two words, and she makes the mistake of turning her head and his neck is there, it's in front of her and she can't stop, she's too young to have the control, too in the moment, too close to losing her grip on everything. She can't stop herself as she sinks her teeth into his neck, and she's ravaging his back and she can feel the sticky-slickness of blood on her fingers as she breaks the skin, but she's so close now. She's drinking from him, and she's desperate and she wants him to do something so she can reach that brass ring and just let go, but the warm blood in her mouth is somehow almost enough.

It's so much all at once, but it's pain he can focus on instead of his own hunger, even if a part of him knows that it'll be worse later, because of the blood loss, but for now it's enough, it's her fangs sharp in his neck and the pleasure with each buck of his hips, and he has just enough clarity that he slides a hand between them. His fingers are more rough than they usually would have been, because he has to focus on the pain in his neck that much so as not to lose it, and he hopes - prays - that she'll come quickly, not because he wants it over with, but because with each second it becomes more difficult to hold out, to hold on, to hold her and not bite.

She lets go, she lets go of whatever blockade she's holding onto and her mouth slips from his neck as she cries out, her mouth red with his blood, it smeared on her lips. She's trembling, and she thinks something that's wrong and ridiculous and she knows it's hormones and endorphines and she whimpers against his ear, her hands shaking as she skims them up his back, and his name- Oh, god, the way she says his name is saying way more than just his name. Its how she feels about him, how this is new and bright and fragile, but that she trusts him and maybe there's something else, the tiny spark that could eventually turn into something more.

She's overwhelmed, and she has her face pressed against his jaw, making a soft sound against his skin.

He's not used to that, the way his wounds do not heal when she pulls back, the way they prickle and itch and keep giving him something other than the hunger to focus on, and she's trembling and saying his name and he's saying hers, the smell of his blood thick in the air but he has to focus on something else, the pain and the pleasure and then the way she's tightening around him and he pulls his hand back so he can lean on both arms as he thrusts into her a few more times, he doesn't need much now that he can let go - in that way, at least, and his head is turned away from her because if he looks at her he's pretty sure he's going to bite her as it hits him, that surge of pleasure that makes his hips stutter, and then gradually slow down, and he's spent. Blood is still seeping from his neck, slowly, and dripping on her or the bed, and he stays in her and lowers himself on top of her, not with his full weight, but enough to feel her warmth and he still can't look at her, fangs out, eyes golden, hunger so very alive, although it's coming back to him, little by little, control, and in just ten seconds he's sure that it will all be back. Ten or twenty, or a little more, never mind how weak he feels, like his legs are made of rubber and the hunger is even worse now.

He's still bleeding, she realizes a moment after he stills, as he doesn't look at her, and she doesn't understand. She doesn't understand, and she hadn't wanted to bite him, and he's still bleeding, and all she can bring herself to do is to stroke his back, his hair as her heart's in her throat. "Hey," she says after what seems like an eternity, scared of what he'll say or do or not do, if her biting him- he told her to, but it's not healing and she's trying to ignore it even as the blood drips down his shoulder, as it drips onto her chest and she is trying to keep her fangs away, pressing a kiss to his temple, and she knows she's hurt him in other ways because her fingers are sticking to his back. She wants to apologize, but she knows he'll be mad if she does, and she doesn't know what to do besides half-bask in what afterglow she can manage, her lips close to his temple. "I-" and then she stops, closing her eyes, letting her cheek rest against his hair.

Edited 2012-06-08 18:53 (UTC)

She says "Hey," calling for his attention, but he needs a little longer, he needs a few more seconds, and when she speaks her again he's back more, he's him more, and after a second or two he can shift back, the fangs come back in and his eyes are back to the way they usually are. He's softened enough that he slips out of her, with a grimace, because that's never the fun part, and he turns his head to catch her lips into a kiss. The sort of kiss that's meant to reassure her that nothing is wrong, because nothing is, and he ends up pouring a lot more into the kiss that he meant to, but it is what it is. Just the two of them, and she's beautiful, and this was stunning.

She should care that he needs time, that for a second she was lost and wondering and worried, but then he kisses her. She moans into his mouth, because this isn't what she'd expected, her leg around his hips sliding down, kissing him - her foot running up and down his calf, stroking his hair. And she takes from the kiss what he's giving and she gives it back, and it's emotion that they're not ready for, and she's arched up as high against him as she can be, but she's not trying to still have sex, obviously, but she's kissing him like he's the last men on Earth, like-

Well. It's emotion, and she doesn't want to let him to move, let him leave, let him not kiss her any longer.

Edited 2012-06-09 13:42 (UTC)

Eventually, though, he has to pull free, otherwise he might keep kissing her all night, so the kiss breaks, and he just breathes against her lip, but then he can't help himself - or won't - and he's kissing her again, still between her legs, and he's kissing her again like she's the only thing in the world that matters, but it isn't the heat of the moment anymore, it's a kiss that is a lot more real. it's more than wanting her, it doesn't have that urgency to it, it's just them and, as far as he's concerned, it's so much better that way.

The kiss is sweet and long and deep in a way that's not I'm going to find your tonsils, and it makes Caroline melt, it makes her meet the kiss, her hands touching him wherever she can - touching and just skimming, her fingertips featherlight until the kiss breaks again, and she stares up at him. "Hey," She says again, but now it's not half a question, it's not a Are you okay, it's a soft, half-breathed greeting, her lips curving into a slow, sweet smile as she toys with one of his auburn curls, her eyes searching his even though she doesn't know what she's looking for.

"Hey," he answers, his own lips quirking up into a small smile, fingers in her hair, and he kisses her again, softer, briefer, and back to himself now. His neck prickles with pain, but he doesn't mind. Any time now he's going to move and go get himself some blood from the replicator, but not just yet. For now he's happily to just look down at Caroline, and it might be weird to just be looking into her eyes, but it doesn't feel weird.

"You okay?" She asks it softly, the question not really worried - she's a little too blissed out right now to be worried, even though they're both pretty much covered in blood at this point and she can smell it but she's pretty okay right now - because she's staring up at him, and she can't stop the smile on her lips, and him staring into her doesn't seem weird at all, because she's doing the same.

She leans up to kiss him again, briefly, before--

"I messed up your back," she said softly, and it was more sheepish than regretful. "Sorry?"

Klaus can't help it; he laughs. It's not mockery, it's genuine amusement, and he kisses her again for that. He's bleeding from the neck, and she's worried about a few scratch marks on his back. "I think I'll survive." Besides, they still heal faster than humans. It will all be gone come morning - the scratch marks and the bruises he owes Nuada, at least. The bite marks will probably last a little longer, but eventually they would fade away as well.

She laughs too, rolling her eyes. She's not talking about his neck because she needs to not think about his neck, about the blood that's covering them both, and she leans up to kiss him again, almost as a distraction.

"We should shower, and you should eat," she says quietly, because she knows it'll help, of course it'll help, and then she won't have to worry about it, because right now sort of everything smells like blood. She doesn't know if this will continue, if this sort of thing was their lives, now, or not - but right now she likes it.

And-- "It's good, right?" She asks it softly, because she still bit him, he still turned away, and even though he finished, she just wants to make sure he's okay, that he's.... good.

"We're good," he answers, a smile lingering on his lips from the laugh, and the kiss, but he is serious, and 'we' matters so much more than 'it'. It is too vague. They're good, and that's what matters. "It's alright, or I wouldn't have told you to."

There's a lot more than that to it, but right now they're basking, and he doesn't feel like getting into it right then and there. They can move and go shower and he can feed in a little while. Not just yet.

"I like it when you smile like that," she says softly, staring up at him, even though - yeah, it's a little weird now because she's still trying not to think about the blood, and she glances down at his mouth and her brows furrow for just a moment - she's thinking about what she did, that she bit him, and how much she'd been trying not to, because- because of things that happened way before he knew her, and she swallows as she decides that she's not going to think about Damon, and he asked her to bite him, he told her too, so it's different.

"So this is a thing, now?" She ventures the question, changing the subject. "I mean, this... isn't a one-time deal?" Because... honestly, she wouldn't mind if it was a thing.

It's an oddly touching thing to say, and Klaus isn't sure everybody told him that before. He doesn't really know what to reply, so when she asks her question... at least he knows what to say to that.

"This is whatever you want it to be, love," Klaus tells her, and his lips quirk up into another small smile. "Although I must admit I'd be more than a little disappointed if it were just the one time." He moves, to her side, so he can lie on his back and tug her towards him, hoping she'll wind up half on top of him. He's stopped bleeding, he knows that much, even if it still itches like a little bitch.

She doesn't end up half on top of him, she ends up totally on top of him, sliding over him so she's lying on him, and she doesn't show the care he does about her body weight, but she bends to kiss him again, and it's a little more deep then she means it, and if she's super honest, super-duper honest, she likes it when he touches her, and she'd not say no if his hands move up and touch her skin again, because Caroline's sort of into that. The touching and kissing and sweet things and just being close, and her eyes are a little darker as she kisses him, nipping his bottom lip.

"I don't know what it is," she murmurs, but she's not pulling away in the slightest. "But I'm okay with figuring it out later." She pauses, and she stares into his eyes again, and for one moment she's thinking of Tyler and Matt and Damon, and her brows furrow as she takes a deep breath because this is so different, and she's glad for it, but it makes it so that she can't neatly label it and shove it into a box.

"We're both gross," she murmurs against his lips again, not because they're disgusting, but she hates feeling like she's on the edge of something. Like she'll bite him, but she shouldn't bite him - that's ridiculous because it's not like he's alive, and that's a whole 'nother thing, and she exhales and it's a little unsteady.