Two Lost Souls

Crash And Burn

Klaus can't help but shake his head when he comes back to find Caroline sprawled out across his bed fully dressed, taking up most of the space. He knows she hasn't been sleeping enough, and that's unlikely to change in the next few weeks, so he's reluctant to disturb her rest despite his curiosity over what was said between her, Elijah and the other vampire. Besides, even if they did talk now, there isn't much he would be able to do about it right away. Not to mention she's not the only one whose sleep patterns have been erratic lately. So, with measured movements, trying not to make a sound even though he knows from experience that she'll sleep through just about anything, he strips down to his underwear and lies down on his back next to her. Her body instinctively shifts closer to his, eyes rolling behind her eyelids, brow furrowing as if deep in thought. Turning to his side so that he can watch her, he places a hand on her hip, at the hem of her shirt, fingers brushing the skin above her jeans. The touch seems to soothe her and she settles down, features relaxing, content sigh falling from her lips. Smiling a little at the sound, he feels his own body relax and sleep claims him.

The motion that wakes him a few hours later is hardly noticeable, but it's enough to have him on full alert. He's always been a light sleeper, and being here, in this city filled with foes and threats, with more to lose than he's used to having, certainly isn't helping.

Caroline is blinking the sleep from her eyes, languidly stretching as she tries to come to full awareness. A quick look out the window – neither of them bothered to shut the blinds before they crashed – tells him that it's not morning yet and he pulls her closer to plant a kiss on her shoulder.

"It's still early. Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

She shakes her head and mutters a barely intelligible "Can't" before cuddling up to him, unable to sleep, but not quite ready to rise and shine.

"Nightmare?" he guesses, knowing that even with the progress she's made, she will probably be suffering from them for at least a few more months.

She makes a noncommittal sound that he takes as an affirmative, and he feels her warm breath on his shoulder when she decides to use it as a pillow. Her hand settles on his chest, tracing idle patterns on his skin. After a couple of minutes, the absentminded, half-asleep caress turns more purposeful, fingers wandering lower, across his stomach, and he lets a low hum express his appreciation. Never moving from her comfortable position against his side, she lets her hand explore his upper body thoroughly, all the way from his neck to the hem of his underwear and back up, paying more attention to the spots that get a reaction out of him – a moan when she scrapes her nails over his nipple, a shudder when she settles at his pulse point for a second, a quickening of his heartbeat when she traces his tattoo, a tightening of his grip on her waist when she brushes his side, an uncontrollable jerk of his hips when her hand teasingly slips just past the fabric only to come back up after the lightest of touches.

Sensing her lazy, sensual mood, he fights down the urge to pull her on top of him and rock her hips down on his. She must feel his need from the way his body stiffens more and more with each touch of her hand, because she rewards his patience with a feather-light kiss against the side of his neck. Then, at long last, she nudges his underwear down just enough to free him and he lets out a grateful sigh when she lightly brushes her thumb against his tip before taking his hard length in a firm grip. When she starts slowly pumping her hand up and down, he turns his head to capture her mouth in a searing kiss. She smiles against his lips and speeds up her rhythm, to the point where he can't help but thrust up into her hand in time with her motions. It's not long before he can feel his orgasm approaching, and he grabs her wrist to get her to stop if she intends to have some fun herself before this is over, but she shakes his hand away.

"Let me. Please," she murmurs against his neck, and even if he wanted to, he would be powerless to deny her, especially when she adds in a husky whisper, "I've wanted to do that since you taunted me with those sinful sounds when you had me compelled."