summary – you accuse klaus of using you, he reacts differently than you’d expect.
notes – this is so filthy istgggg. i was (clearly) ovulating while i wrote this, oops.
content warnings – plot? what plot? SMUT! irregular use of past and present tense, dirty talk, oral (m!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), rough sex, biting, multiple orgasms, restraining of limbs, overstimulation, consensual sex, squirting, slight breeding kink, size kink if you squint, unsafe sex - wrap it up pookies !, a little fluff snuck in their all on its own oops, not proofread, spelling & grammar mistakes
You’re sitting by the fire at the Salvatore boarding-house, reading a book, when a loud, demanding voice pulls you from your thoughts, breaking your concentration. Ruining your moment of peace.
“Where’s Damon?” The familiar British accent immediately gives its owner away: Klaus.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead closing the book - taking a mental note of the page number - before looking up.
He steps into the living room, eyes immediately finding your form on the couch. He’s in a bad mood. Great, you think.
“I don’t know, Klaus.” Your tone is sharp, yet respectful. Pissing him off when he’s in a bad mood is not a good idea. Although he’s never hurt you specifically, he’s hurt your friends plenty of times, and that’s enough warning for you.
He huffs, crossing his arms almost like a child, you think. You’d think he’d matured by now, having lived for over a thousand years, but no, he was impossibly immature sometimes.
Klaus just glares at you for a moment, and you glare back. Not one to back down so easily. Then he plops himself down in the armchair across from you, eyes narrowing as he looks at you almost suspiciously.
The two of you sit in silence for what seems like several minutes, and you feel yourself growing more and more annoyed. In the end, you're the one to break the silence.
“Is there anything else I can help you with, Klaus?” Voice even sharper than before.
He doesn't answer you right away, his eyes instead roaming over your form. Almost like he’s studying you. It's unnerving, and makes you sit up straighter.
He huffs once more, mirroring you, by sitting up straighter, too. “Just wondering where Damon is, love.”
Your heart betrays you then, fluttering slightly at the nickname. You will it to stop. You’re not special, you remind yourself. He calls every woman that. Not that you want to be special. That’s what you tell yourself, at least.
If he picks up on your heartbeat, he says nothing. You just hope he didn't notice; too busy being suspicious or annoyed, or whatever he’s feeling.
You shift a little on the couch, but refuse to look away. Refuse to back down.
“I don’t know where he is. Sorry,” You quickly add the last part, not wanting to egg him on.
“Don’t know, or won’t tell?” He doesn’t believe you. And why should he? You're on opposite sides. Enemies.
Elena is your friend, Stefan her boyfriend. Damon is your ally by default. Not that you particularly like him. Still, that doesn’t mean you want him dead - or whatever Klaus has planned for him.
“What makes you so sure I'd tell you if I knew?” The words leave your lips before you have a chance to think them over. Challenging him.
For a moment, he stills. Jaw clenching. Then, he smiles. A devious thing, head tilted just barely to the left, as his eyes pierce yours. He’s amused.
“You never were a very good liar,” He pauses, the smile growing. “At least, not with me.”
His words hit you like a gust of wind, making your resolve falter. Your own eyes narrowing, ears burning. You can only hope your face isn’t heating up too. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
His words are.. somewhat true. Not that you’d ever admit to it out loud.
These days, your friends hardly included you in their schemes. At least, not when Klaus was involved. But it hadn’t always been like that.
In the beginning, Damon had asked you to distract Klaus, and more than once. Every single time, you’d end up breaking, and telling him the truth. Betraying Damon, and your friends.
The first time it happened, you were sure Damon would kill you. Snap your neck, or something worse. Stefan and Elena had talked him down, convincing him that it wasn’t your fault. You were just a human, and Klaus was a thousand year old vampire. Powerful, terrifying. They’d even scolded him for using you in the first place.
You were only used for emergencies, after that. Five times, you’d been the distraction, and all five times, you’d caved to him. But not out of fear, as your friends assumed. No, you’d caved because of his charm.
The way he’d smile at you, so genuine, and almost affectionate. At the way his eyes would light up, just for a second, when you had approached him, before hardening once more. Never unfriendly, but closed off, still. Each time, his walls would crumble, little by little, and so would yours.
The last time it happened, you’d been told to distract him at The Grill. Keep him occupied, while Damon was snooping around in his apartment. He’d smiled, once his eyes caught yours, blue eyes piercing through you, as you sat down besides him.
You always felt as though he knew exactly what you were doing, even if he didn’t say it out loud. He was far too perceptive not to, you thought.
As they began talking, the way he was looking at you, it made your entire body flush with something unnamed. Looking at you with such- genuine, unabashed interest, as you droned on and on about something entirely inconsequential.
When he’d allowed you to speak for what seemed like an eternity, and you’d finally ran out of stuff to say, he’d just- looked at you with a knowing smile. Eyes gleaming with amusement, with mischief. And then he called you out.
“You’ve been a wonderful distraction, love,” His smirk had almost taken your breath away. “But, I think it’s time for you to stop this little charade, and tell me what your friends are planning this time.” He spoke with such finality, knowing you’d break down, and tell him what he wanted. As you always did.
And you had done just that. Little to no persuasion needed. He’d smiled, thanked you and left you at the bar, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. Wondering why he had such a hold on you, when you were supposed to hate him.
That was the last time your friends had included you in their plans. After that, you were kept on the sideline whenever Klaus was involved.
You blink a few times. So caught up in your memories, you realized you’ve completely zoned out. Klaus is looking at you with a smug expression on his face. Lips curled into something devilish.
You feel the words catching in your throat, not sure how to respond to his words. They’re true, of course they are, but you don’t want to admit it. Least of all to him.
Your mouth opens and closes for a few moments, before staying shut, finally lowering your head, avoiding his eyes. Ashamed.
Hair falling in front of your face, to hide your shame.
He chuckles, a low, almost cruel thing. Clearly amused by your reaction, and your sudden lack of words. He’s enjoying this, you realize. Making you speechless. You should hate him for it, but you can’t find it in yourself.
You feel his eyes on you, even when you’re not looking. Studying you, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your fingers begin fumbling with a loose thread on your pajama pants. Suddenly painfully aware of yourself, and what you’re wearing.
Your hair is loose, and slightly disheveled from moving against the velvet cushions on the couch. You discarded your sweater hours ago, now lying on the rug between the two of you, almost under the coffee table. Underneath it, a black top, trimmed with lace. Your pajama pants loose, the fabric thin, and almost see through. Almost.
You’re not wearing a bra, either. Why would you? You’re the only one here, both Stefan and Damon having left hours ago. You wanted to relax, to curl up on the couch, and read. Be alone.
But now you're not alone: Klaus is here, his eyes roaming your body, drinking in your every movement. No doubt listening to the rapid beating of your heart, and the way your pulse seems to have quickened under his gaze.
You gulp down on a lump of air, eyes still trained on the book in your hands. Still not able to look up and meet his gaze.
“Look at me.” He says. Demands. You obey, no hesitation. It only furthers your embarrassment. Your head tilts back up, face no longer obscured by your hair.
The way he looks at you, it’s almost too much.
Klaus is leaning back in the armchair, like a king would his throne. Relaxed, smug. His entire face lid up by the devious smirk splaying on his lips. He looks positively terrifying. Yet, you find yourself not scared, but almost.. enthralled, instead. Your body leaning towards him, entirely by instinct. He’s like a magnet, drawing you in.
“There she is,” He says, voice barely a whisper, almost as if speaking to himself. His eyes willing yours to look into his. If you weren’t wearing vervain, you’d probably wonder whether he was compelling you or not.
“Now tell me the truth, love. Where is Damon?” His voice is no longer annoyed, but instead dripping with amusement. He has you right where he wants you. He knew it, you knew it.
“He left with Stefan hours ago.” The words spill off your lips before you even have a chance to think about it.
“And where did he go, love?” Eyes narrowing very slightly, still not entirely convinced you wouldn’t try and deceive him again.
“I don’t know..” You trailed off, teeth biting down to nibble on your lower lip. A nervous habit of yours. “I promise.”
For what seemed like an eternity, Klaus just stared at you. Stared through you. His smile had faltered, the suspicion now back with full force. You shrunk slightly under his gaze, the power he had over you undeniable. Finally, he smiled. A lazy thing. But his eyes didn’t leave you.
“I believe you,” Pausing, as his face tilted, studying you. “But I do wonder..” Voice trailing off, now lazying on his chair (throne), legs spread out, arms on each rest. Staring you down, your eyes still unable to leave him.
“Why are you so loyal to them? You’re nothing but a pawn. Something to be used, and then discarded when you’ve outrun your use.”
If his earlier words had hit you like a gust of wind, this time, they hit you like a slap to the face. Deep down, you knew it wasn’t true. Elena and Stefan, they cared for you. They were your friends. Even Damon seemed to care, in his own, twisted way.
But coming from Klaus, the words seemed so.. final. They seemed true, and it made you question yourself.
“That’s..” You didn’t know how to respond. What to say, or how to deny it. What if it was true? What if you were just that; a pawn? Someone, something, to be used, and then tossed aside?
You felt the corners of your eyes beginning to sting. No doubt glazed over. You refused to cry in front of him; refused to give him the satisfaction.
Suddenly, you feel anger bubbling up inside of you. Anger directed at him, and not at your friends.
“And what about you?” Your eyes still trained on him, when you continue, “You use me. You use me, and then throw me away.” Your whole body now shaking with anger.
His face changes in an instant. Where his lips were once curled up in a smirk, they’re now a straight line. His jaw clenched, his whole face tense. Eyes darkening. Cold. The walls back up. He’s angry, you realize.
Why is he angry with you?
In a blur of motion, he’s left the chair. Standing right in front of the couch, glaring down at you with an almost murderous expression. For a second, you fill with dread. You poked the bear, and now he was going to hurt you.
But instead, he leans down, body and face, inching closer and closer to your own. You can’t move, suddenly frozen. Glued to your spot on the couch. All you can do is look at him, and gulp down a big lump of air. Your pulse impossibly fast, same as your heart.
His hands find the backrest, his arms now caging you in. His face is so close, that you can feel his breath on your skin, causing goosebumps to appear on any and all exposed skin. His scent engulfs you, causing your eyes to flutter. Lashes tickling your cheeks for mere moments. His cologne, something earthy and expensive, mixed with something that's just.. him. Musky, warm. Manly.
You smell whiskey, too. And something else. Copper. Your heart skips several beats. Blood.
You should be frightened, should want to escape. Instead, your thighs begin to rub against each other, entirely subconsciously. On instinct. You’ve never felt so ashamed in your life.
If he notices, he says nothing. He just keeps glaring down on you, jaw clenched, lips in a thin line. For what feels like an eternity, he does that. You stare back, helpless. Then, he opens his mouth. He’s angry.
“You think I use you?” His voice barely above a whisper. He’s not angry, he’s seething. “You dare compare me to those.. imbeciles, you call your friends?” You gasp.
“I would never use you,” This time his voice is laced with something else, now. A gentleness, perhaps? Your ears must be betraying you, your mind trying to trick you.
“All those times you came to me, distracting me,” So he does know. Are you even surprised?
“I allowed you to do just that. Distract me. Did it ever occur to you why I would do such a thing?” Your brows furrow, searching towards the middle of your face. What’s that supposed to mean?
He leans impossibly closer, his breath but a whisper on your lips. A promise..
Blue eyes searching your face, faltering to your lips several times, before catching your eyes once more. “You..” His eyes fall to your lips, seemingly lost for words. Klaus Mikaelson, lost for words. Now that’s a first.
Something awakens inside of you. Something almost primal. Before you can think further of it, or begin to second-guess yourself, you’ve wrapped your arms around his neck, and pressed your lips to his in a searing kiss. Eyes closed, your knees now on the cushions, body leaning up, trying to get closer. Needing to get closer.
He seems taken aback; but the hesitation disappears just as quickly as it appeared. In another blur of motion - no doubt with the help of his supernatural abilities - you’ve switched places.
Now he is the one sitting on the couch, you in his lap, legs straddling his left thight. Your arms around his neck, his around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest.
His grip is possessive, his lips demanding. The kiss all teeth and tongue. Your hands quickly find their way up into his blonde curls, tugging desperately. You feel the growl in his chest, before you feel it on your lips.
His hands are on your hips, grinding your core down against his thigh. You gasp into the kiss, the jolt of arousal shooting through you, so powerful, one would think you’d been struck by lightning.
You’re no doubt soaked already, and the thin fabric of your pants are doing absolutely nothing to hide your slick from him. You don’t have time to feel embarrassed, too busy grinding down on him, as his hands guide you.
Needing air, you pull yourself from his lips. Panting, and your eyes still closed.
“You’re stunning, love..” Your eyes open at that, and the image that greets you almost takes your breath away.
Klaus is looking at you with unabashed affection and arousal, lips parted, and kiss-swollen, cheeks heated, pupils dilated. Slightly out of breath.
You feel your heartstrings tugging, and though you try to push it away, it stays in the back of your mind the whole time.
You’re blushing, you're sure of it. In fact, you’re pretty sure you’re flushed from your chest, up your neck, and all the way to your ears. His eyes seem to drink it in.
Too embarrassed to have him looking at you like that for any longer, you dive back in for another kiss. This time with even more passion than the first time. Teeth nipping gently at his lower lip, fingers carting through his curls, tugging a little harder than before.
He seems to like this, judging from the growl emitting from deep within his chest. A growl that turns into a moan. It’s like music to your ears, and you feel yourself grinding down against his thigh with almost feverish movements. The rough fabric of his jeans, even through your own layer of clothes, rubbing deliciously against your core. He seems to like this, too.
His left hand leaves your hip, and instead starts trailing up your side. His touch feather-like, and so sensual, you feel your whole body shivering with anticipation. “So responsive..” he whispers against your lips, before trailing them down your jaw, and the front of your throat.
You crane your neck, instantly allowing him to continue. His grip on your now positively bruising.
“So needy,” his hand keeps trailing up your ribs, fingers nearing your breasts. You gasp, when he cups the plump flesh through your shirt. He hums in approval. Your nipples are already painfully hard, but they seem to peak even further, at his touch.
You’re practically rutting against him now, causing him to tut mockingly against your throat.
“Impatient, too.” He’s mocking you, and deriving immense pleasure from it.
With just the one hand on your hip, he stills your movement. Sometimes it’s easy to forget just how strong he is, what with his lean figure. But he is. Impossibly strong.
But instead of being scared, you feel your walls clenching. Your underwear no doubt soaked. For a short moment, you wonder if he can smell it; your arousal. But, you’re quickly distracted by Klaus, both hands now on your shirt, ripping the front in half, unceremoniously.
The cold air hits your nipples with such intensity that you instinctively buck forward, seeking his warmth. He stops you, tutting at you. Eyes gleaming with mischief and desire, as he’s now pulled away from your throat, instead looking at you with a wolf-like grin.
You shiver under his gaze, eyes freely roaming your newly exposed skin. “Beautiful..” he mumbles, mostly to himself, it seems. Before you can shy away, or cover your breasts, he’s pouncing. Lips wrapping around one nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, his hand twists the other, boarding on the side of painful, yet so delicious.
You moan, loudly, bucking into his touch. Hands going back to play with the curls at the nape of his neck. Pulling, tugging. His control seems to falter at that, and suddenly you feel his fangs grazing the sensitive skin around your nipple.
You gasp, and he pulls away, just a mere inches. Eyes so blown out with desire, the blue has almost disappeared. “Careful, love,” he whispers into your skin, as his lips begin kissing their way up the valley of your breasts. Both hands now massaging the plump flesh, fingers tugging at your nipples in between tender touches.
As his mouth makes its way to your throat, he begins nipping at the skin with blunt teeth, sucking small marks into your exposed flesh. He’s marking you, you realize. Marking you in places where everyone will be able to see, unless you deliberately cover them up.
It sends a thrill through your body, and a shiver down your spine. Fingers tightening their grip on his curls, needing to anchor yourself to him
“You like it, don’t you, love?” Pausing only to nip at your jaw. “Like it when I mark you like this.” You can do nothing but whimper, and nod your head weakly. That isn’t enough for him, and he twists your nipples so hard, the pain almost overtakes the pleasure. You quickly correct your mistake.
“Yes-” Your voice shakes as you finally answer his question, not able to form a coherent sentence, so you opt for a single word. He smiles against your skin, “Good girl.”
Oh god. You whimper again; a needy little, breathless thing. His smile grows against your jaw, as it travels to your ear, teeth nipping at your earlobe, teasingly, “You like that too?” This time you immediately use your words.
“Y-yes..” even shakkier than before. He hums approvingly into your ear, kissing the sensitive skin just below, before pulling his face away, to look down at his work.
Your skin is flushed, your body visibly shaking with arousal. There’s small marks, bruises, everywhere; on your collarbones, your throat, trailing all the way up your neck. Your nipples raw and red from all the tugging and twisting. Klaus looks at you almost in awe, lips parted, before his eyes find yours. “Fuck, love..” he sounds absolutely wrecked already. Just as you feel. But, you need more. Need him.
Despite his earlier warning, your hips jerk forward, rutting your slick, throbbing core against his thigh, just once. His eyes immediately follow the movement, and for a split second, you can see his resolve crumbling, you can see him fighting himself. And it lights a fire inside of you.
Leaning in, you begin to kiss down his throat, hands trailing down the front of his shirt, feeling the taut muscles underneath the fabric. When your hands reach his pants, you suck your own little bruise into his skin, just beneath his jaw. You know it’ll disappear in an instant, but you just can’t help yourself.
Klaus grunts, a rough, needy sound, and you know you’re close. Close to breaking his resolve, and making him lose control.
Shaky hands find his skin, now under his shirt, touching him with the same amount of fever, as he just did you. Your lips now planting kisses on the small patch of skin made visible by the deep cut of his shirt.
He grunts again, one hand cradling the back of your head, seemingly determined to stay in control, in some capacity. His other hand on the small of your back. So close, you think to yourself.
Your hands trail their way back down his stomach, feeling his muscles tighten underneath her fingers, as they make their way down to his jeans. With deft fingers, you pop open the button, and then begin drawing down the zipper.
You look at him, meeting his eyes, lashes fluttering at the intensity of his gaze. “Go on, love..” his voice raw, eyes hooded as he looks at you, giving you his permission. In one smooth movement, you’ve left his thigh, your knees now on the rug, body settled neatly between his legs. Your hands begin tugging at his pants, and he lifts his body, aiding you, as you drag the fabric down to his ankles. Hooded eyes glued to your lips, as you lean in, pressing open mouthed kisses to his clothed cock. Your eyes flutter up to his face, just in time to see his head lull back, resting against the backrest of the couch. A deep, rough groan escaping his lips.
It instantly sends a surge of pride coursing through your body, seeing him react in such a way to you. Your resolve grows, as does your courage, and soon you have him completely bare from the waist down; pants and boxers now pooling at his ankles.
Delicate fingers wrap around his cock, your lips placing a chaste kiss to the head. He groans, and you wrap your lips around him, tongue swirling, collecting the drops of pre-cum already leaking from the slit. He tastes almost musky, and it only spurs you on further.
As your hand wraps around the base of his cock, you begin bobbing your head, mouth taking him further down your throat. He’s panting now, and you feel his hips stuttering slightly underneath you. He’s holding back, letting you set the pace. It makes your heart flutter.
Klaus Mikaelson, the most feared man on earth, is holding back himself, not wanting to hurt you. It’s enough to drive you over the edge, you yourself losing all you control.
You pull back, spitting into the palm of your hand, before wrapping it back around his cock, going up and down and round a few times, before your lips are back around the head, allowing his cock back into the warm, wetness of your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, bobbing your head, tongue twirling. His thighs straining underneath you.
As you move your mouth down his cock, you take him even farther down your throat than before, not stopping until the head hits the back of your throat, your nose nuzzled firmly against the hairs at the base.
You feel yourself choking around him, the corners of your eyes stinging, before you go back up for air, spit drooling down your jaw. Although, you barely get to inhale, before you’re back on his cock.
Suddenly, his hands are on the back of your head, cradling your neck, pulling your mouth back onto his cock, right back where it belongs. The head hits the back of your throat, fast, and his hands are now setting the pace; making you gag around his cock, drool spilling out the corners of your mouth, wetting the coarse hairs, trailing down his balls.
You all but moan around his cock, eyes fluttering shut, as you struggle to breathe through your nose, whilst he fucks your face. As you open your eyes, you look up, immediately finding him already looking down on you. Lips parted, panting, eyes black, and hooded.
“There you go, love. This is what you wanted, right?” His voice is rough, practically gravel, and his hands go from cradling your neck, to gathering your hair in a sloppy ponytail. You can’t nod, so you moan around his cock instead.
He growls, before pulling you off of him, and you gasp for air, trying to get as much of it as you possibly can. “Look at you,” his voice mocking, yet, filled with something else, too. Something close to affection. “So beautiful with your lips around my cock,”
While one hand holds onto the ponytail, keeping your head in place, the other goes to your face, his thumb trailing your swollen, spit-covered lips. Eyes lingering, as he parts them, sliding his thumb inside your mouth. Your tongue finds it immediately, twirling the digit, sucking almost obscenely. He seems to like that, giving you a small, approving grunt.
After a few seconds of you sucking his thumb, he removes his hand from your face, instead going down to tear the ripped fabric from your torse, tossing it somewhere behind you.
“Stand.” He commands, letting go of your hair, allowing you to rise from the floor, standing before him, still panting from having your throat used like that.
For a second, he just looks at you, drinking you in. Then he discards his own shirt, kicking off his pants and boxers, throwing it all the same way as your ruined top. He leans back; once more mimicking a king on his throne. His confidence, and his piercing blue eyes, staring at you with such unadulterated desire, it makes you shiver.
“Take off your pants, love.” Another command you immediately obey. Soon enough, you’re standing, dressed only in your underwear. Internally grateful that you’d picked out a cute, lacey pair, this morning. “Very pretty,” he notes, eyeing the fabric. “But ultimately in the way.”
He beckons you to come closer, and you do. Your shaking body lowering yourself onto his lap once more, this time with your thighs planted firmly on either side of his.
Your arms move to once more wrap themselves around his neck, but he stops you, instead moving them behind your back. Not until he’s satisfied you won’t move them, does he remove his hands around your wrists.
“Good girl.” Your breath hitches, and you feel your walls clenching around nothing, for the hundredth time. Your clit throbbing painfully, knowing his cock is so close to where you need it the most.
With one hand on your hip in a possessive grip, his other hand begins trailing down the front of your body, starting at your navel, before making its way closer, and closer to your core. Painfully slow.
You almost forget how to breathe, only remembering to do so, as his fingers finally find the front of your underwear.
He chuckles darkly, eyes on your face, a smug smile splaying on his plump lips. “Did sucking my cock make you this wet, love?” Words seemingly escaping you entirely, only able to nod weakly at his question.
His thumb starts rubbing deftly over your covered clit, and you try desperately to rut it, but his hand on your hip stops you. Klaus chuckles once more. “So needy and impatient,” he teases.
Before you can respond, he’s torn your underwear in half, and thrown it away. The cold air hits your slick, heat, and you gasp, the sensation almost overwhelming. His thumb finds your clit again, rubbing the little nub so slowly, you think you might actually go insane.
“So wet for me..” he mumbles under his breath. You’re not sure if it's for you, or to himself, but either way, it makes your skin flush.
Then he’s running two fingers through your wet folds, lapping at your hole, and you moan so loudly, throwing your head back, you’re sure they can hear you all the way back in town.
“There we go, love..” he compliments, his voice so rough, it sends a shiver down your spine. He ducks his head, lips kissing up your exposed throat, fangs grazing the skin here and there, as he moves two fingers inside of you, thumb still playing with your clit.
The sound that escapes you is pathetic; something between a moan and a whimper, a sound you’ve never heard yourself make before. It’s needy and raw and begging. Pure bliss.
Then he’s moving his fingers, slowly pumping them in and out of your hole, and you lose absolutely all semblance of control. He’s smiling against your skin, as you begin rutting against his thumb, practically fucking yourself on his fingers. And he lets you.
“Take what you need, love,” his voice tender, and filled with so much affection, you swear it makes your heart stop.
He sets up the pace of his fingers, adding a third finger inside of you, and when he finds that special spot inside of you, you can’t help but cry out his name. Almost like a prayer. That seems to only harden his resolve. His thumb begins moving more precisely against your bundle of nerves, and his fingers inside of you are beckoning you closer and closer to the edge.
The wet noises of your arousal soon fill up the room, and it’s all your ears can seem to focus on. That, and the way Klaus is panting against your neck. It’s all so- filthy. Your orgasm is close, and approaching fast. Faster than you thought possible.
“Look at me.” He commands. When you don’t obey immediately - too wrecked, and focused on chasing your relief - he takes matters into his own hands. Suddenly the grip on your hip is gone, his hand now wrapped around your throat. Possessive, but not too tight. That catches your attention.
Your eyes find his, lips parted, walls clenching around his fingers. The smirk on his lips so devious, you’d think he was the devil himself. Devious, and all sin.
His grip around your throat tightens, cutting off your airflow with precision. With his fingers pumping in and out of you with such speed, it can only be aided on by his supernatural powers, you slowly dissolve into sobs. Whimpering out a string of incoherent pleas and prayers. His name, the only coherent word.
And then you fall over the edge.
Your walls clench down on his fingers, your thighs clamping together around his hand, as you scream out his name, fire erupting from your core, and spreading through your veins. Pleasure coursing through you like a thousand little lighting bolts. Stars and fireworks behind your eyes. Your body taut and shaking, as your hips roll uncontrollably against his hand. You can still feel his thumb on your clit, rubbing gentle circles on the sensitive little bud. It’s almost too much.
Klaus is still pumping his fingers lazily inside of you, still hitting that spongy spot inside of you, from time to time, and you’re practically crying, now. Sobbing his name, as you come down from your never-ending-high.
All the while, he’s kissing your neck tenderly, whispering praise into your skin, telling you how beautiful you look, how he can’t get enough of you moaning his name.
You’ve somehow managed to keep your hands behind your back this whole time, just as he’d commanded. But in the haze of your intense pleasure, you have to anchor yourself, hands finding the nape of his neck once more, holding onto blonde curls like your life depends on it, as you ride out your mind blowing orgasm.
When he finally pulls his fingers out, you’re trembling, your face in the crook of his neck, panting damp patterns on his skin. Klaus kissing the top of your head, wet fingers tracing soothing patterns on the small of your back, while you try to calm down. “Breathe, love,” he whispers near your ear.
You take a few deep breaths, your body still trembling, as you finally pull back. You must look an absolute mess; mascara smudged, dried spit decorating both the corners of your mouth, and down your jaw. Your entire body flush, and slick with sweat.
His eyes tell a different story. For a split second, they flash yellow, tongue darting out to lick his lips, absentmindedly. He looks just about ready to devour you whole. The thought sends a new wave of arousal through your core, and before either of you can say anything, you’re crashing your lips against his, kissing him with renewed fever.
“Need you- please, Klaus, need you inside me,” is all you manage to say against his lips, your hips already rutting, ready for more.
He wastes no time, and in the blink of an eye, you're lying on the couch, back pressed into the soft cushions, as his hands find your thighs, pulling your knees to your chest, spreading you bare before him.
His eyes trails down, watching your slick folds, and how your hole clenches in anticipation. He all but howls at that. His eyes find yours, searching for any doubt, and you give him none.
Instead, you pull him down for another kiss. This time though, it’s gentle and tender and slow. Relaying to him, all those emotions, you can’t quite put into words. Feelings your heart won’t let you put into words just yet.
Klaus kisses you back, mirroring the slow, tender pace. Hands around your thighs softening. It seems he has things he can’t quite speak out loud, either.
When he pulls back, Klaus looks down at you with something you dare not name. You give him a nod, and that’s all he needs. Your legs stay bent, knees to your chest, as he wraps a hand around his cock, sliding it through your wet folds a few times, gathering your slick on his length. He’s outright moaning now, a low, guttural thing.
“Fuck,” his eyes focused on where the head of his cock is now pressing against your hole, probing. You moan, and his eyes fall back on your face. Capturing your gaze in his, and holding it there, as he continues to move his cock further and further inside of you; the stretch so delicious , you can’t help but clench around him, teeth biting down on your lower lip.
He hisses at that, and bottoms out inside of you, in one, fluid movement. You gasp, arms wrapping around his back, nails digging into his skin so hard, you’re sure to draw blood. “So good for me,” he praises.
Still holding your gaze, he draws back his hips, his cock leaving your wet walls almost entirely, before slamming back inside of you. You can’t help but throw your head back against the couch, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Moaning out his name, as he sets a slow, brutal and precise pace. The head of his cock finds that spongy spot inside of you, that makes you see stars, hitting it over, and over, and over again.
Klaus fucks you painfully slow, savoring every drag of his cock against your warm walls. Grunting and panting above you, until his head comes to rest against your forehead. Both of you are sticky with sweat, none of you cares.
All you care about right now, is the feeling of his cock inside of you; pulling sounds from your throat you thought yourself entirely incapable of. And all you can do is hold on for dear life.
Your fingers in his hair now, tugging, pulling. Panting and moaning against his lips, as you join in another searing kiss. His arms on either side of your head, caging you in, chest to chest. You can feel his heart beat against yours, feel his eyelashes fluttering against your skin.
After fucking you like that for what feels like hours, kissing you lazily, Klaus pulls back, hands pressing into the couch on either side of your head, hooded eyes looking down on you, almost in awe.
“Look at you.. Taking my cock so well,” you flush at his words, that mocking tone back. You whimper, just as his cock hit that special spot inside of you for the hundredth time. The pleasure never diminishes, no matter how many times he finds it.
Something inside of him seems to snap, and before you can even understand what’s happening, he has you on your knees on the couch, ass up, face pressed into the couch. His cock never leaving you whilst re-positioning you.
His hands find your hips in a bruising grip, pulling your ass flush against his pelvis, his chest pressed against your back, as he whispers in your ear, “You feel so good around my cock, love. So tight and wet,” his kissing your shoulders now, and down your spine. “Could stay inside you like this forever,” you let out another pathetic whimper, trying to rut your hips back against him. He’s stopped moving; his thick cock filling you up, but staying still.
It’s making you want to cry.
“Please, Klaus,” you whimper into the couch, face angled, eyes trying to catch his.
“Please what, love?” He’s taunting you. You bite down on your lower lip, tears forming in the corner of your eyes; it does absolutely nothing, and his cock is still unmoving.
“Please move, Klaus. Please- please fuck me, please,” all your pride thrown out the window, completely and utterly forgotten.
Barely does the words leave your lips, before he grants you your wish.
Though this time, he’s not holding back. His pace neither gentle nor slow. Instead, it’s fast, and hard, and unforgiving. Pistoning his hips, cock hitting that sweet, gooey spot over, and over, balls slapping against your clit. Hands on your waits, pulling you back to meet his thrusts every single time.
By the time his hand snakes between your legs, and starts rubbing furiously on your clit, you’re a drooling, moaning mess. Your eyes in the back of your head, as he fucks you to your second orgasm of the night. Your whole body convulsing in pleasure, as the fire spreads through your veins.
“That’s it, love. Come on my cock, let me feel you,” and that’s all you need before you’re screaming his name yet again, tears streaming down your face.
He fucks you with such fever, hips rutting into the soft flesh of your ass, sure that bruises are forming there. You don’t care, in fact, you quite enjoy the thought of walking around with bruises on your ass, all because of Klaus.
His fingers never leaves your clit, not even when you’re begging, telling him it’s too much, instead, he pounds his cock deeper, harder, rubbing the overly sensitive little nub even faster. “Just one more, love. I know you can do it,” his hips stuttering, faltering, telling you he’s close, too. “For me,” his words send you over the edge once more.
Your third orgasm hits you so hard, so fast, you nearly pass out. Lips parted, in a silent scream. Klaus flips you over, wrapping your legs around his waist, nimble fingers rubbing on your clit with inhuman speed. Before you even realize it’s happening, you feel wetness gushing out of you, slicing his cock, and running down your thighs. Eyes in the back of your head the whole time.
“Fuck, love- that’s it, just let go..” his voise so tense, you’re sure he’s straining not to spill inside of you right this moment. Instead, fucking you through your orgasm. Hips stuttering, thrusts growing erratic. “So good, cuming around me. Listen to you,” his resolve seemingly crumbling by the second.
Through your haze, you manage to whimper out his undoing, “Want your cum inside of me,” that seems to send him over the edge.
With a crushing grip on your thighs, your feet dangling helplessly against his lower back, he pistons into you, unrelenting, thrusting into you with such fever, you can feel your eyes rolling right back into your head. Grunting and panting against your neck, before he stills, spilling his seed deep inside of you.
You can feel it, filling you up, before spilling out of you, trickling down your ass, and onto the couch. His thighs trembling, voice rough, as it moans in your ear. The sound sends shivers down your spine, goosebumps appearing anew all over your body.
Then he collapses on top of you, his weight anchoring you pleasantly to reality, feeling almost like you’re about to float out of your body, all bliss and pleasure. The aftershocks of your orgasms still making your body tremble.
You use the last of your strength, to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face to yours, lips meeting in a lazy, warm kiss. Klaus returns it, nipping at your lower lip.
The two of you stay lying like that for a few minutes, his cock still inside of you, his seed too. Then he pulls out, pulling your body on top of his, as he lays his back against the couch, one hand on your ass, the other cradling the back of your head, placing gentle kisses to the top of your head, whilst you catch your breath, head on his chest, listening to the beating of his heart.
You’re the first to break the comfortable silence, albeit keeping your head on his chest, eyes closed. “That was..” he finishes your sentence for you, “Amazing.” You nod your head, repeating his words, “Amazing.”
Klaus’ hands find your face, gently, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes so- soft, it makes your heart skip several beats. You stare right back, your own eyes just as tender, words lost somewhere in your throat. Instead, you lean up, his head meeting yours, as your lips find his in a quick, chaste kiss. Almost, shy. Experimental.
Something entirely different than any other kiss shared between the two of you.
“Stay the night?” Your voice barely a whisper, eyes finding his, when you pull back from the kiss. Wishing so he’ll agree.
Instead of answering you, he wraps his arms around your body, and suddenly, you find yourself no longer on the couch, now lying on your bed, wrapped in his embrace under the covers. His chin pressed against the top of your head, your face in his chest. You allow yourself a deep breath of his scent, his cologne. Of him. It makes you shiver, your eyes fluttering, as you snuggle closer. Your bones suddenly heavy, body melting into his. He’s warm and soft. Safe.
His lips find your hair, kissing you tenderly. “Sleep now, love. I’ll still be here tomorrow,” hesitating before he continues, “If you want me to be..” There’s something new in his voice, something your sleep-stricken brain can’t quite place. Vulnerability?
Before you doze off, you mumble into his chest, your hands tugged safely under your chin, “Never leave…”. Klaus smiling into your hair, ass he presses another kiss to the top of your head, so chaste, so gentle, as not to wake you up.
“I will never leave you, love. I promise."
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