Dark Moon | Klaus Mikaelson

Chapter 22

"Okay, so I'll try to get it before they open it. But I don't want you hurting Damon, understood?"

Klaus smirked. "Not to worry, love, you'll still have your horse after tonight."

"I'm surprised all I had to do was ask nicely," she said hotly, her cheeks red. "I'd have thought you'd be making comments about replacing him."

"Oh, I can certainly make comments if you wish to hear them. But I don't suppose Damon will be too chuffed if I go into more details about when you—"

She flicked her hand, sending him stumbling back, out of the kitchen. He recovered quickly, catching her by surprise by seizing her wrists and yanking them behind her back as he pressed her face first into the wall, restricting any movement. "Now, now, love," he growled in her ear, hearing her heart rate accelerate instantly. "Mind your manners. I won't have you misbehaving at dinner tonight."

"Maybe you should mind your manners!" she shot back, trying to get him off of her, but it was all futile. "Stop talking about—"

"About what?" he said innocently, moving his hips forward to trap hers, and making her squeak, her mind drifting off to a scenario that she never wanted to speak about out loud. "I can sense the time is drawing near, again. He'll be at your beck and call the minute you feel it, won't he? I just wonder if he satisfies you enough. If he really knows how to bring you to the brink of unrestrained pleasure..."

"Klaus, you're pushing your luck," she said weakly, not wanting to admit that his statement was making more butterflies leap in her stomach. "I'll do the spell for you, I'll go to dinner, just please..."

As soon as he stepped back, she used her wolf speed to get back to her room, panting heavily and running straight to the shower to turn it on so he wouldn't hear her breathing so erratically. Why was her mind wandering to all the places that it only went to with Damon? Why was she desiring Klaus when she wasn't even in heat? She imagined those strong, probably very skilled hands roaming her body, she imagined him holding her to his chest and biting softly into her neck, feeding on her and letting her feel like she was floating, she imagined him caressing her thighs and praising her in a low growl, directly over her ear...

She knew what she was missing— Klaus's touch. She forced the thoughts aside, and got to work on her Locator Spell, though her skin tingled. As expected, there was no locating that last coffin. The spell used to block her wasn't as strong as before, but she knew some witches were certainly tampering with it and keeping her from finding it.

"Your mother is MIA," Esmeray announced in the afternoon after several tries. "I expect they recruited Bonnie's help."

Klaus sighed in annoyance. "Just perfect." He waved at one of the rooms behind them. "Go on, I've had the servants lay out dresses for you to wear. Pick one and get dressed, the Salvatores will be here soon enough."

She'd selected a simple black evening gown, and had adjusted the bottom magically so that she could wear sandals with it. Her hair was braided and pinned around her head like a crown, and she flexed her fingers several times before stepping out at the sound of the doorbell, hoping her magic would be at bay.

By the time she reached the entrance hall, compelled servants in gold shirts and black skirts had prepared a table for five right in the living room beside the main entrance. Elijah had fixed his hair, cutting it and smoothing it back. Klaus noticed that Esmeray hardly cast him a second look as he opened the door for the Salvatores.

Klaus walked up to them, looking pleased. "Damon, Stefan," he greeted. "Elijah tells me you seek an audience. Very bold. Let's discuss the terms of our agreement like civilized men, shall we?"