Final, final chapter because yes, a Klaroline story should conclude with a Klaroline scene. Now this might not be exactly what you were hoping for, but this is rather how I imagined such a reunion would go.
He sat in the darkness stewing in his anger and waiting for the latest in a long line of betrayers. The moment she entered the property he was aware of it, with all the doors between them open there was nothing to obstruct his hearing. With his ears he measured each of her unhurried steps; she paused at the house's entrance taking a deep unnecessary breath before tracing the path to where he awaited her. As the distance shortened between them he began to feel warmth brewing in his chest, her proximity making his very soul sing. It was not enough to dissipate his burning anger, but it stopped him from flashing from his makeshift throne to wrap his hands around her alabaster throat.
Though he was certain she could taste his anger she did not slow, walking into the dungeon as though it was a sitting room in which she was the guest of honor. Sitting upon the chair with steepled fingers he cocked his head as she entered with a smile fixed upon her face. Self-preservation instincts clearly lacking she moved closer to him, her infuriating smile unfaltering.
"Caroline," he hissed her name out through his teeth, both in condemnation for her transgressions and a warning to keep her distance.
"Klaus," she returned, still smiling, still moving closer. "Where's Rebekah," she softly asked.
"Cured," he sneered injecting all his rage at Rebekah into that one word as though he could curse her with it.
Caroline inclined her head ever so slightly, her eyes remaining fixed upon his own. "By choice?" she asked as though she already knew the answer.
"She chose to betray me, love," he advised and closed the distance between them. "There are always consequences for those that betray me Caroline," he breathed the words upon her lips.
"I let Tyler and Hayley go," she whispered back as though he wasn't already aware. As though they weren't having the conversation in the dungeon she released them from.
He trailed his fingers down her face ever so lightly tracing her features. She was exceedingly lucky that he loved her more than his own life because the control required not to tear her in two would not have been possible otherwise. "Yes, you did," he whispered while his fingers traveled lower to trace her collar bone.
She had to have known how dangerous the position she resided was, but still she smiled holding her ground as though convinced he would never hurt her. Regardless of what she did, of what she might do.
Klaus felt a small degree of pleasure in her assurance that he loved her enough to restrain his baser instincts, but he felt a much higher degree of recalcitrance. That she should stand before Him, the Original Hybrid, after such betrayal without an ounce of fear was odious. She should have been on her knees begging his forgiveness – at the thought of such an image more than just his anger stirred.
"I turned Katherine," she said it as though it was nothing. As though it was not a further betrayal.
He withdrew his fingers, now more inclined to tear at her flesh than trace it. His entire being was radiating anger and yet she remained unmoving mocking him with that persistent smile. Klaus felt his fangs drop, his eyes turn yellow.
"You really should punish me," she breathed as for the first time since entering she touched him, tracing the growing bulge in his jeans. Her smile, one moment insufferable, suddenly seemed inviting. A promise of fulfillment. She moved and circled to the seat behind him while he tracked her with his eyes, smile still firmly in place. "Punish me Klaus," she invited moving passed the chair to the hanging manacles. There was a clink as she sealed the first around one of her wrists, she held the other above her head and in short order he closed the other cuff around it.
Without preamble he tore the clothes from her body, his claws slicing shallow furrows in her skin. Though soon healed they left behind them trails of red ambrosia that his tongue greedily lapped up. Once he had laved the blood from her body he turned his attention to the implements the chamber held, most were not acceptable for his purpose. Now that his lust dominated his anger he had no desire to rip into her flesh, to truly hurt her. Yet even she had acknowledged punishment was required. So punish her he would.
He selected a large wooden paddle, he could not ever recall having used it – not the best instrument if ones desire was to inflict untold suffering, but perfect for his wayward mate. Pulling the chains taunt so that her lovely form was stretched invitingly he snaked one hand to cup her sex from behind and then propelled the paddle into her arse with force. It connected with a satisfying smack. Caroline thrust forward with the impact then pushed backwards as his fingers dug in, a short cry leaving her throat. He hit her again, and again, and again. For the next twenty she remained perfectly silent; then each hit brought a strangled cry from her pouty lips until the fortieth when she began intermittent grunting. By the fiftieth her grunts had turned into moans.
Somewhere near the thirtieth blow she had begun to rock her hips at every impact as pain began to turn to pleasure. He hit her until her arse was rosy red, her breathing laboured, and his fingers slick with the juices of her arousal. The air so thick with her scent was intoxicating to Klaus; he threw the paddle and replaced it with his hand massaging her rosy flesh.
"Klaus," she begged between lustful moans.
His erection now painfully tight he torn his own clothes from his body and pushing her legs apart entered her from behind in one powerful movement. Punishment was forgotten for a time, his only concern now to sate the sexual hunger she engendered in him. He thrust within her hard and fast, forcing her feet from the ground as he bowed her body in order to burrow his cock just that little bit deeper. As he approached climax he moved one hand from her hip to the cluster of nerves at the apex of her thighs rolling the nub between his fingers until she was screaming in release her inner walls clamping so tightly it was painful - a delicious kind of pain that resulted in him joining her in ecstasy.
When the last of his cum had drained from his cock he embedded his fangs in her throat and prolonged his ecstasy draining her sweet nectar. As he drank his fill she came a second time and massaged his semi-erect member back to steel hardness. Withdrawing his fangs he released her from her bonds and whilst still buried in her warmth moved until he could bend her over the chair.
Taking her a second time he positioned his wrist before her open mouth, as she bit deep he could not prevent the groan from passing his lips. Klaus came hard, reaching heights he would not have thought possible. Betrayal had never been sweeter, punishment never more rewarding. It took time for him to recover the second time, but as soon as he had he took her a third time – on her back with her feet by her head. He allowed her no control, dominating her at every turn, until he had finally rutted away every ounce of anger at her.
Coming down from his sexual high he rolled her on top of him cradling her against his chest. Her trespasses long forgotten, his Heaven within her embracing arms.