Warnings: language, BDSM elements including Spanking, role play, punishments. Rough, kinky consensual play with the hot-tempered hybrid. Skip it if it's not your thing ;)
***
Disapproval radiates from that smoky blue stare, and a shiver rolls down my spine. I've been a bad girl tonight, and Niklaus Mikaelson is not pleased.
"I asked you to behave tonight, Y/N." The muscles of his jaw flex as he fights to control his irritation. "Your insolence has no place at this party, and yet... you simply could not help yourself, could you?"
God, he looks sexy in that suit. His sandy blond hair is combed back and away from his face, accentuating that penetrating gaze. I love when I can see the flames of fury dancing behind his eyes—angry Klaus is so fucking hot. My teeth sink into my lower lip as I imagine him lifting my dress, pushing me against the wall and taking all that anger out on me right here in the hallway while the others dance and drink below.
"Are you even listening to me?"
"Yes, sir." Pressing my thighs together, I keep my head bowed just the way he likes. "I'm sorry, sir. I'll be a good girl the rest of the night, I promise."
"Elijah warned me that tonight was important, and that bringing you as my guest would be a headache. But I knew if I brought another woman in your place, there would be hell to pay."
My gaze snaps up, irritation twisting my features. "And who would you bring instead of me?"
Klaus' lips tip up in amusement. "Don't you worry about it, love. Just concern yourself with looking pretty and staying in line. We both know what happens if you don't."
I watch him walk away to join Marcel in some kind of peace treaty toast, keeping my back to the wall as the guests mingle and dance around me. When I catch sight of that cranky bartender Camille descending the stairs, jealousy flares in my chest. She looks prettier than usual, wrapped in a black floor-length gown that catches the light from the overhead chandeliers. She's here with Marcel but I know she has a thing for Klaus, and it bugs me. She glances back over her shoulder and smiles when she meets his eyes.
Pressing my lips together, I try my hardest to ignore her. I promised Klaus I'd be a good girl tonight, and tripping the blonde bitch would not qualify as behaving. Neither would accidentally spilling my champagne on her dress or keying her car.
Not that I'm tempted to do either.
I bide my time, sipping my drink and chatting with Josh and Davina, waiting patiently for Klaus to come and tell me what a good girl I've been since our talk. I might be wearing a dress he's deemed too revealing, and I may have whispered that I couldn't wait to taste his cock later tonight while he was chatting with Father Kieran... but other than that, I've been a perfect angel.
So when I glance down from the stairs and find Camille spinning in his arms on the dance floor, I can hardly contain my shock. After trying my hardest to behave all night, he repays me by dancing with her? That was not the deal.
Game on, Niklaus Mikaelson.
"Vincent," I whisper silkily into the tall, debonair witch's ear. "Care to dance?"
"I don't know, Y/N. Klaus probably wouldn't like that."
"Probably not. But do you really care?" I ask with a flirtatious laugh. My fingers slide down the lapels of his jacket and he just shakes his head.
It's a well-known fact that there's no love lost between Klaus and Vincent Griffith. Still, Vincent is one of the most powerful witches in New Orleans; he's not afraid of my boyfriend.
"Not in the least, sweetheart." Wrapping his hand around mine, Vincent leads me to the dance floor. The compound has been transformed for the party, so elegant and lavish you'd never know it was the same place.
We are slow dancing in front of the string quartet when I feel Klaus' stare burning into my skin. Vincent's hands are wrapped around my waist loosely and respectfully, but from Klaus' expression, you'd think we were dry humping right here on the dance floor. I turn my head away from him, incensed that he is still dancing with Camille and ignoring me.
"How you handle that man's anger issues, I'll never know," Vincent chuffs. "You must have the patience of a saint."
"And you must have the ignorance of a fool," Klaus rasps from beside us. "Kindly remove your hands from my girlfriend before I remove them from your body."
"And on that note," Vincent chuckles, shaking his head as if he's been expecting this. "Thank you for the dance, Y/N. Enjoy your evening."
Klaus watches him walk away with a glower I know too well. "Don't look at him like that. I wouldn't have had to dance with him if you hadn't been draped all over the bartender."
"Lower your voice," he hissed, but I am nothing if not insolent.
"I'll speak at whatever level I deem necessary."
"Not to me, you won't," he growls. As his fists clench, I feel a flicker of satisfaction. Finally, we're getting somewhere. "We are leaving."
The car is already pulled around when we get outside, as if the valets could sense his rage from inside the building. He tosses me inside and slams my door before climbing in wordlessly beside me.
The silence on the drive to my place is heavy, and the tic of his jaw tells me he's imagining all the ways to punish me for tonight's behavior. His nostrils flare and I remember he can smell that I'm thinking about the same thing. "I wouldn't be too excited if I were you, little one. You're not going to like what I have in store for you this time."
With a huff, I sink down in my seat and pout for the rest of the drive. I don't know what he's planning, but by the way he pushes me inside my apartment, I know it's going to be different than the other times I've misbehaved.
No sooner have the lights flicked on than his fist is in my hair. "On your knees, Y/N."
Exhaling a shaky breath, I lift the hem of my skirt and sink to the floor. Keeping my eyes trained on his shiny shoes, I brace myself for my punishment.
"You have deliberately disobeyed me on several occasions this evening."
"I'm sorry, sir."
"No, you're not. But you will be." Jerking my head back, he stares down at me. "You know what you must do."
"Yes, sir." I try to hide my smile—this is my favorite punishment, but I don't want him to know that. My fingers claw at his belt, tearing his pants down so fast I almost forget to breathe. When his cock springs free, I wrap my hand around it greedily.
"No. Hands behind your back. You are to use only your mouth."
Swallowing hard, I clasp my shaky hands together behind me. I use the tip of my tongue to taste him, swirling it around the crown like an ice cream cone. His chest is heaving, but he says nothing, just fists my hair harder in his grip with both hands. When my lips finally wrap around him, he lifts his hips and uses his hands to push me forward until he hits the back of my throat. Holding me in place, my pussy clenches in anticipation as I struggle to breathe through my nose.
"Good girl," he finally grinds out, as he eases me off his cock. "More."
My fingers twitch behind my back, so desperate to touch him as my mouth slides up and down his shaft. He's being so rough, pushing in so deep, I can't help but gag around him. I feel tears streaming down my face, but I don't fight it. I just suck harder, move faster, moan louder.
His raspy groans are like music to my ears. My pussy is dripping, but as far as punishments go, this one is deliciously fulfilling for me. His hips jerk one last time and he erupts, filling my mouth with his release. I swallow every last drop, and he unwinds my hair from his fist.
"Good girl," he says softly, his breathing ragged, and a grin overtakes my face. "But your punishment has only just begun, Y/N."
"But—"
"Silence."
He helps me from the floor, but I don't meet his eyes. His fingers close around the zipper of my gown, dragging it down slowly until the luxurious fabric gives and pools at my feet. Clad in only my bra—my lack of panties was another point of contention earlier this evening—I watch quietly as he moves to the sofa and slaps his thighs twice.
Klaus has trained me well in our time together. I drop to the floor and crawl over to him slowly, just the way he likes it. When I reach his lap, he positions me over his knees with my face down and my bare ass up.
"Now I'm well aware that you think it's cute to misbehave. But this party was not the setting for such insolence." His warm palm circles my left cheek. "Let's count together the ways you disrespected me this evening, shall we, love?"
Though I've steeled myself, the first sharp slap still comes as a surprise. "One. The dress you wore tonight was specifically chosen to wear exasperate me."
"I'm sorry, sir."
Another sharp slap against the other cheek comes before I finish my sentence. It stings worse than the first. "Two. Your lack of undergarments was declared at a most inopportune time."
"I'm sorry, sir." I say again, my voice going shaky. This is not a good punishment. I can't wait for it to be over so we can get to the good stuff.
"Oh, you will be." His smirk is evident in his voice. This next slap is even harder. My skin burns, growing tender beneath his touch. "Three. Those filthy words you whispered in my ear when I was trying to play nice with Father Kieran."
His cock is hard again, thickening against my belly as I squirm on his lap. He loves looking at me in this position, the power hungry bastard. Running two fingers through my folds, he collects my arousal with a soft, satisfied chuckle. "My little brat is so impatient tonight, isn't she?"
"That's all I did, sir. Can my punishment be over now?" My voice is tight and whiny, my hips wriggling over his lap. He pushes me down harder by the back of the neck and shakes his head.
"We cannot forget the way you disrespected me with Vincent Griffith, little one. The entire city—my city— saw you dancing with my enemy."
I can't hold in my scoff. "Your enemy. You have like, fourteen thousand of those. There would be no one left to dance with if I—"
Three hard slaps rain down on my tender skin. I wince, biting down on my tongue to keep quiet.
"I'm sorry, sir," I gasp. "Please, please stop. I promise I'll be good."
"You don't know the meaning of the word," he spits. But he softens anyway, knowing I can't take much more of that, and rubs a gentle hand over the angry welts on my skin. "But I suppose that's enough for now. It's been a long night and you must be tired from all that misbehaving."
Gathering me into his arms, he sweeps me off to my bedroom and sets me down on my bed. I watch as he slips off his shoes and unbuttons his shirt with that naughty glare fixed on me.
"Get some rest, sweetheart."
"Whoa, wait a minute. I endured my punishments, sir. Surely you don't expect me to just roll over and sleep when my arousal is fucking running down my thighs."
His smirk is infuriating. "Oh, I'm sorry. Were you expecting me to take care of that for you?"
At my indignant gasp, he rolls over and closes his eyes.
"Oh, hell no." I push off the bed and march over to the closet where I keep my toys. Pulling out the longest, thickest vibrator I own, I jump back into the bed and burrow under the covers. "I guess I'll just have to do it myself."
The loud buzzing sound fills the room as my smile grows, sliding my hand beneath the silky sheets. But a strong hand grips my wrist, tightening it before I have the chance to bring it into position.
"You keep forgetting who's in charge here, love. And it's becoming a problem for me." Gripping both my wrists, he pushes them above my head with one hand and uses the other to cover my mouth. "When you agreed to this little arrangement between us, you signed over every last orgasm to me. That means I get to say when, where, and how you come. Do you understand?"
Anger and lust roil in my belly, which tightens and weakens in response to the hungry look he's giving me. He loves this as much as I do, and the evidence is pressed against my thigh.
Through heavy-lidded eyes, I watch him bite his lip as I nod my consent.
"Very good. Now, keep your arms above your head and stay quiet—not a peep, no matter how good it feels. And remember, don't you dare come without permission."
With one hand still pressed against my mouth, he releases my wrists. Though I want so badly to run my fingers through his hair, to scour his scalp with my nails, I hold still like a good girl. With his free hand, he pushes between my thighs and finds my entrance.
"So wet, aren't you, sweetheart? It's a good thing, too, because you certainly haven't earned any foreplay tonight." He smirks at that, because we both know this is our own form of foreplay. Running his wide crown through my slit, he's glazed with my desire before he finally pushes inside.
The burn is delicious, the hot stretch around his thickness so good, I want to scream it from the rooftops. He watches me carefully, certain I'll break his rule as he fills me to the hilt. It takes all my willpower, but I stay silent, my ragged breathing the only sound he pulls from me with each wicked thrust.
I want to touch him so badly that my fingers itch. My thumb longs to skate across that bottom lip, and my palms yearn to be filled with those sculpted cheeks. I swear I'll never take touching him for granted again.
The press of his hips as he shifts me up the bed nearly does me in, the change of position making my eyes roll back.
"Look at you," he says, his voice husky. "Trying so hard to behave, even when you're just dying to rebel." He leans forward on his knees, lifting my hips so he can drive into me even harder. Short, shallow thrusts have the head of his cock dragging over my g-spot as he pelvis grinds my clit, and I am seconds away from erupting. A scream nearly bubbles up but I swallow it somehow, forcing my climax back until he says it's okay.
"We're almost there, love." Satisfaction makes his eyes sparkle as he dips down to tease my nipple with his tongue. "Just a little further..." His teeth wrap around the sensitive bud, drawing it out until it hurts. I feel the echo of his bite inside my core, which pulses needily around him.
"Ooh, look at that. You're so close, aren't you?" With a wicked grin, he halts his movement before pulling out entirely. A whimper slips out as my pussy clenches desperately around nothing. "Remember, sweetheart. You need my permission."
He reeks of smug satisfaction as he slides back inside me, working me up quickly with that expert swivel of his hips.
My fists clench but stay above my head, my lips still pressed together obediently under Klaus' palm. The only way he can tell that I'm about to lose control is the hot, needy gasps against his hand. "Please," I cry, unable to hold back. He looks gleeful when the muffled sound hits his ears. I can tell from the flush of his skin and the way his head tips back that he's just as close.
"I suppose you've waited long enough," he relents finally. His palm slides down my chin to press against my collarbone, as he shifts one leg higher onto his waist. "Let go for me, love. You've earned it."
We reach our peaks nearly the same time, my climax hitting me like a fucking New Orleans hurricane as his cock drives deeper and harder into me. When he stiffens, his hips jerking messily as his grip on my thigh intensifies, I feel the wolf inside of him howling for the moon. He's lost in me, in the pleasure I've pulled from inside him, and for that one brief moment, his walls are down.
A soft smile curls those pink lips as he stares down at me from above. He's still pressing against me, gripping me hard enough to draw blood, but his eyes let me in to see the tenderness he feels towards me when no one else is around.
My fingers dance across his jaw, which unclenches beneath my touch. "You're beautiful, you know that?"
He doesn't say a word, just withdraws himself from my body and sweeps me into his arms. We take a few moments to catch our breath, with him pressing sweet kisses to the top of my head. I can feel the moment he shifts back to the big, bad wolf, and he draws me possessively into his chest.
"Now, I've got another business dinner next Saturday night. Do you think you can behave yourself, little one?"
"Maybe." I peek up at him with a mischievous grin. "But if I can't, I know I'll have a hell of a time learning my lesson."
The end.