What If ⚜️ {Klaroline}

CHAPTER 14: SOBER

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Caroline Forbes was in denial.

The blonde girl had woken up this morning feeling warm and cozy in the arms of the ruthless hybrid who had kept her hostage for the better part of summer break. This had been the most serene sleep she'd had gotten during these last few months and she suspected it had everything to do with feeling absolutely content trapped inside his warm embrace all night.

Here comes the denial part.

As she took an unnecessary morning bath while said Original still slept peacefully next door, she refused to acknowledge the truth; that maybe, just maybe, she was the tiniest bit attracted to the infamous Niklaus Mikaelson.

She huffed disapprovingly at her own trail of thoughts. Admitting her darkest desires was something Caroline would not do. She knew she had a thing for bad boys. There's something fascinating about the wild side of life that always sparked her curiosity, and that damn curiosity of hers always got her into trouble; be it meeting Damon, turning into a vampire or getting kidnapped by the world's oldest and most dangerous vampire alive. She had promised herself that she would never be as foolish to ever touch something that was broken beyond repair again, to tangle her fate and live it in the hands of a demon belonging in the darkest corners of hell.

But Klaus proved to be too much of a temptation to resist Πand she couldn't for the life of her understand when this had come to be. Only two days ago she hated him with unfathomable intensity and now, well, she still hates him, but she's also intrigued by him.

Her mind wandered unauthorized into the events of last night. Back to the breathtaking feeling of having his luscious lips pressed against her own. These very same lips trailing down from her neck, all the way down to her shoulder, his curious hands exploring the rest of her body, leaving bruises that healed instantly. Marks which, if they were human, would remain imprinted on her skin, warning any other man off.

What left her wanting more was the way he touched her; unapologetically. There was no hesitation in the way his lips claimed hers, his hands groped her backside in feral desire. Unconcealed lust spilling from his heated eyes. That, along with the taste of blood from the man she had almost killed last night was a heady pleasure. And then came the one thing that made her crave him most, the thing that caused the heat to gather to the lower parts of her body; his rich, thick, fresh blood.

She shook her head, shooing the thoughts away and grabbing the crib to scrub her already clean body with a punishing vigor. She could feel her arousal and it pissed her off more than his annoying smirks and teasing flirtatious lines.

So much for relaxing!

This bath was supposed to distract and calm her down. Daydreaming about his lips, his blood, his touch was not part of her original plan. Neither was craving her worst enemy. Why did her plans fail so frequently lately was a mystery to her.

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They were high on alcohol, blood and each other. The inhibitions between them zero to none. The madness their desire drove them to euphoric and demanding. From the second they tasted each other a frenzy begun. One neither of them knew how to stop nor wanted to try.

"I want you!" She whispered in his ear, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt, she grazed her lips against his skin, before her tongue started trailing patterns on his neck.

He growled quietly, tensing underneath her touch.

They were in the back alley behind the club, the man they had used moments ago as their own personal blood bag carelessly dismissed on the cold pavement, the blood from when they tasted each other still fresh on their lips.