Two Lost Souls

Sexual Thing

I welcome you

To the house of sin

Open your mind

Let the games begin

I'm your lust

I'm your greed

I'm every sick thought

That you ever done dreamed

It's early when she jolts up in bed the next morning, a thin layer of sweat covering her from head to toe after the dream she just had. Erotic dreams are nothing new to her, but this felt different. Powerful. All-consuming. Hot. Almost real. Lips and fingers and teeth all over her body, bringing her to the edge and back over and over again until she was all but begging for him to let her fall over it... Only she woke up right before she did, as evidenced by her labored breathing and by the needy throbbing between her thighs. Her first instinct is to slip her hand beneath her pajama bottoms to take care of it herself – God knows she needs to reach that peak or she'll explode. But she suddenly reconsiders. She knows that after that dream, and after her little make-out session with Klaus yesterday, her fingers won't be enough to satisfy her. Oh, they might bring her over the edge all right, but it would be so... empty. She needs to feel a body moving over her, around her, inside her. She needs to dig her nails into someone's skin, to feel the grip of two strong hands on her hips, to wrap her legs around a waist, to bite into a shoulder as she comes.

And she knows exactly where to find a willing partner, she thinks as she jumps out of bed and into the bathroom for a quick shower – it won't do to get to him already all hot and bothered, as she has no doubt this is going to turn into a power play.

As the cold water settles her still buzzing body, she reflects on her dream, still perplexed at its intensity.

It really was like nothing she's ever felt before.

It almost felt like her faceless lover was reacting to her every whimper, to her every move, to her every hint and mood. He played her like an instrument, like he controlled her, controlled everything about the dream, from her pleasure to the feeling of cool satin sheets against her skin, from the dim light to her deepest desires.

That was really quite something, and she briefly wonders if that's how it's going to be with Klaus. A complete loss of...

That's when it hits her.

Control.

Son of a bitch.

She's standing in front of his door, waiting for him to open it, half hoping that Elijah will pass by before he has a chance to. She didn't bother putting her clothes on after she dried herself off, and Klaus' reaction to his brother seeing her naked could be interesting. She thinks the possessiveness theory is something she's not going to be able to try out with Marcel given what she now knows about the king of New Orleans, but Elijah would do.

Unfortunately – or not, depending on how you look at it – Klaus ends up opening the door for her. He gives her a quick onceover, silently confirming what he must suspect from her bare shoulders, and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth when he realizes why she's here. Without a word, he steps aside to let her in, turning around to face her once he's locked the door behind her. She's standing beside the bed and he joins her, still keeping a reasonable distance between them as he lets his eyes rake over her naked form. A shiver that has nothing to do with the room temperature runs through her at his thorough inspection, her body already impossibly tense just from the way he's looking at her. If she didn't know any better, she'd say he plans on devouring her. Actually, she wouldn't put it past him. She takes the opportunity to watch him as well. He is naked from the waist up, leaving her free to openly admire his muscled chest and toned stomach, her gaze lingering on the necklaces dangling from his neck and on the artful tattoo on his upper arm and chest. The only item of clothing he's wearing are loose grey pants that leave just enough to the imagination. Yeah... Those are gonna have to go, fast.