Yay, chapter three! I can't help but feel that I rushed this chapter in a lot of ways, but I was just impatient to get it over with – I've quickly found that posting stories to fanfiction is somewhat addicting…anyone else know what I'm talking about? Let me know what you think and what could be improved on. Enjoy!

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"So? What will it be, Miss Bennett?"

Indeed: what would it be? She chewed on her bottom lip, anxiety getting the better of her. Her brain was overwhelmed.

How could it be that one of the oldest, most despicable (though she had so far not really minded his company, she realized) vampires on earth had been the one to teach her most about herself? She hadn't comprehended the fact that, until now, she knew next to nothing about witches. They were her own kind, and she had remained blissfully ignorant of practically all things magic. How could she have allowed herself to be so uninformed?

Bonnie shivered. This changes everything, she thought. Everything she thought she knew had just been ripped away from her and tipped on its head. She groaned, letting her head drop to the table with a loud thunk. She honestly didn't care that it made her look pathetic; she was pathetic.

"I'm inclined to believe you," she murmured ruefully into the table, knowing her unintelligible mumble would be heard perfectly by his vampire ears. It was the same as admitting defeat.

Kol chuckled, amused with her grumpiness. She decided she liked his laugh. "A wise choice," he said. "Sometimes it pays to be prudent, Miss Bennett…even if you're sometimes the only one."

She tilted her head up to rest her chin on the table, peering curiously at him from beneath her lashes. He had hit the nail on the head with that statement: she was always the sensible one, preaching caution where others (namely all of her friends) rushed blindly into things without considering the consequences. Which is what she had almost done with Professor Shane and raising Silas – she had forgotten how to think for herself.

Kol cocked his head back at her, studying her openly. The late afternoon sun streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating him and casting the shadows of his face into stark relief. The blond in his hair was suddenly very obvious. She had never really noticed the natural highlights before. She decided she liked his hair. She was unable to muster up any shame when she wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers through it.

The thought had her mind wandering to images that were much more risqué: his hands skimming over her naked body, his head between her legs, bending her over the kitchen table… The indecency of her traitorous brain made her heart jump.

What an interesting person, this Original; he had succeeded in surprising her several times over the last few minutes – and not unpleasantly, she discovered to her own astonishment. She could see why many witches had joined up with him. He seemed to know how their minds worked; and more importantly, how her mind worked.

"Stop worrying your lip."

The comment caught her off guard. She flushed prettily and released her bottom lip from between her teeth. Her lips were no doubt swollen and red, and his gaze flickered from her eyes to look at them. His expression was unreadable, his face smooth; but his eyes told a different story. They were dark and glittering with desire, like two polished pieces of obsidian set deep within his face.

Her face and neck were hot and her breathing came in short labored breaths. Her heart pounded in her chest; she knew he could hear it, and wondered why he wasn't smirking arrogantly and teasing her about it. Her body was tingling, her nerve endings on fire. How could he make her feel this way with just a look?

Without warning she was pressed up against the wall. There was no space between their bodies; she was acutely aware of every hard ridge of his body – and the impressive bulge that prodded at her stomach. One of his beautiful hands was on the wall next to her head, while the other trailed callused fingers from her jaw to the swell of her breast, barely touching. His face was very close to hers, and she was unable to tear her eyes from his. She was too aroused to be terrified; too hot and bothered to be able to muster the concentration and energy needed to give him an aneurism and defend herself. Her heartbeat pulsed through her veins and caused her head to throb and her vision to go hazy.

He leaned down to nuzzle the skin beneath her ear and inhaled deeply through his nose. She could do nothing but stand, frozen, against the wall. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, and her lips parted as breath whooshed out of her heaving lungs.

"Kol," she managed to croak out, though it sounded more like a plea than the warning it was intended to be.

"Don't lie to yourself, little witchling," he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. "I can smell how much you want me. You smell delicious." He hummed in approval.

She decided she liked the rumbling sound that came from deep in his chest. It sent heat straight to her core, and her traitorous body loved it. Liquid pooled between her thighs.

"No," she whimpered, shaking her head. Absolutely not. There was no way she was letting this happen.

She went to push him away but instead ended up clutching his t-shirt; he had ghosted the hand above her breast down her side and gripped her hip – then pulled her body up and out in a way that allowed him to bend his knees and align his pelvis with hers. He ground his bulging erection with a circular motion into the junction between her thighs, and every piece of information she'd ever learned and every memory she'd ever formed flew out of her head. Abruptly she forgot everything; the only thing that occupied her brain was how he felt pressed against her and the sensation of his breath puffing out against her neck.

"This isn't a good idea –" she said between panting breaths – but groaned and grasped his head between her hands when his tongue darted out to lick her neck, right at her pulse point. The thought should have alarmed her, but oddly enough she did not feel afraid of him anymore. Not in the sense that he would hurt her, in any case. The only thing she feared from him now was how he could make her feel.

She decided she liked the weight of his body against hers. Her breasts strained against his hard chest and without thinking she arched her back, pressing them more firmly against him. She felt him shudder in response, and in the back of her mind (she tried to suppress it, she really did, because it wasn't right, it wasn't allowed) she was pleased with his involuntary reaction. It dawned on her that she affected him as much as he did her, and it made her feel powerful.

"On the contrary," he murmured between open-mouthed kisses to her collarbone – she instinctively tilted her head – "I think this is an excellent idea. The best one I've had in a while, actually," he purred seductively.

As if to punctuate his words he ground his straining erection against her again, eliciting a moan from between her lips. Bringing his head up he gave her an incredibly sexy version of his infamous smirk before leaning forward to nip at her bottom lip. His eyes remained open and fixed on hers, and she refused to look away; Bonnie Bennett would not back down. She wasn't giving up – she was giving in.

"I'm going to make you come so hard you won't be able to feel your legs," he whispered against her lips, his hot gaze boring into her green eyes, now foggy with desire. "You'll scream my name until your vocal chords give out. I promised you that you wouldn't regret inviting me in…after tonight, you'll never want me to leave," he finished, his own voice hoarse with arousal. The promise made her head spin; part of her hoped his threatening words were genuine. She could feel his need for her against the apex of her thighs, throbbing through the material of his jeans.

"I doubt it," she hissed, narrowing her eyes; she could at least try to regain some semblance of control. "But you can certainly give it your best shot."

The slow smile that spread across his face was absolutely sinful.

"Is that a challenge, Miss Bennett?" he asked softly, pulling his face back to look at her, her hands sliding down to his neck. One hand palmed her breast, almost lazily, and the other pulled her opposite thigh up around his hips. Pleasure shot down through her toes. "You should know better."

"Well according to you I apparently don't know jack squat," she countered acerbically. She jacked her leg up even higher around his waist and rolled her hips, wanting to punish him. The resulting darkening of his eyes and sharp intake of breath told her she had succeeded.

She might not have the experience he had – not even close – but two could definitely play this game. And she was not the type of woman who backed down so easily. She would make him suffer.

"Then perhaps it's time to expand your horizons. Call it…personal growth, if you will."

Abruptly the world moved around her and air rushed past her and before she knew it she was flat on her back on her bed upstairs, her legs hanging off of the edge. Cool air hit her skin, giving her goosebumps, and she looked down to discover she was naked. She only had one thought:

WTF?

Her clothing lay in tatters on the ground.

Damned vampires.

She went to sit up, furious, attempting to shield herself from his hot, wandering gaze. He easily pushed her back down, the hand between her breasts unrelenting but surprisingly gentle. She glowered at him. He smiled wickedly in return.

When she had regained her senses and ability to concentrate – which might be never, considering the way her head was spinning – she was going to make every nerve ending in his head explode.

Huffing, she stopped struggling, but continued to fix him with an indignant glare, her jaw clenching. She knew she was fit and was proud of her body, but the way he looked at her…the intensity of his stare made her uncomfortable, but also desirous; his lips were parted and his gaze was one of pure hunger. Though she was sure he'd had all manner of beautiful women over the centuries, he looked intently at her as if in awe – like she was something totally new. His jaw ticked.

"You are…simply exquisite," he breathed as his eyes perused her naked form. Her eyes widened and she blushed heavily, flattered and utterly stunned.

When he was confident she would not try to bolt, he skimmed his fingers down to grip her thighs, pulling them apart and settling in between them. He was still fully clothed, and the sensation of his jean-clad erection against her exposed genitals had her gasping. Her legs wrapped around him of their own volition, and she rolled her pelvis up in a sinuous motion, desperate to gain more friction. He hissed, gripping her thighs more tightly in his hands. She would have bruises later, but she didn't care, as long as his incredible hands remained on her body.

She wanted him.

"Wanton little minx," he growled, his eyes darkening. It was the last thing he said before his lips swooped down to claim hers.

She decided she liked his lips. They were doing untold things to hers, his teeth grazing her swollen bottom lip before he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

Bonnie was in heaven. His kisses were positively orgasmic. A thousand years of experience had definitely paid off.

She shuddered, thinking of the other erotic things he had undoubtedly mastered.

His hands were everywhere: on her breasts, her thighs, her neck, her hips; every time she got used to the touch of his hands on a part of her body he would jolt her system by moving them to caress something else. It was maddening.

She snuck a hand down to his waistband, deftly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans to slip a hand inside. He wore nothing underneath; her hand met the bare flesh of his cock. She sucked in a breath. It was glorious; long and thick and hard and smooth without being unnaturally monstrous: everything a woman dreamed about being fucked with. He unconsciously bucked against her hand, groaning in pleasure against her jaw when she shamelessly pumped her hand up and down his length.

She guided him to her slick entrance, wanting him lodged inside her, but he drew away, having other ideas. Rolling her nipples between his callused fingers and drawing them to stiff peaks, he slithered down her body, dipping his tongue into her navel before kneeling between her thighs.

She instinctively tried to squeeze her legs shut, uncomfortable with his intentions. She had never done…that. She'd thought about it, yes, but had never trusted anyone enough to allow them to study her womanly parts in such an intimate manner. And she certainly didn't trust Kol Mikaelson. Definitely not.

"No, Kol, I've never –"

The handsome Original did not stand for her rejection; simply pried her thighs apart forcefully and pulled her further off the bed, placing her legs over his shoulders and steadying her hips with his hands.

She decided she liked his dominant nature; even if it annoyed the hell out of her. The baser side of her psyche, the animalistic, sex-driven side that she hadn't discovered until, well, now, begged to be ravished by him.

She trembled when a puff of warm breath hit her center; she cried out when his tongue licked a slow path up her slit and his lips latched over her sensitive clit.

She jolted when his hand came down to join his mouth. One of his fingers worked its way into her snug sheath, tighter still from little use. He groaned.

"You're so tight," he said, his voice husky with arousal; it was unbelievably sexy. "And you taste even better than you smell," he added. "I can't wait to be inside you."

It was absurd how a few words from him could have her quivering with anticipation. She keened when he began to finger her in earnest, plunging one, and then two, of his digits into her wetness at an increasingly impossible speed. His tongue swiped rapidly over her clit, working her into a frenzy. Her hands buried themselves in his hair as she ground her hips brazenly against his face. When he slowed his ministrations, she nearly screamed in frustration.

"Bonnie," he said, his voice soft but commanding. She decided she liked the roll of her name off his tongue. "Look at me," he demanded. When she didn't comply, squeezing her eyes shut (she couldn't bring herself to look at him, there, between her legs, doing things to her that she had never let anyone do before; the implications were too much for her brain to handle), he bit her clit gently. She gasped.

"Look at me."

Unable to resist him, she opened her eyes and sat up on her elbows to look at him. The sight of him there, with his fingers teasing her entrance and his mouth blowing hot breaths onto her clit, made her shudder involuntarily. The look in his eyes made her breath hitch; never had she seen such intensity, such unrestrained passion, in someone's gaze. It was even more mind-boggling that his focus was entirely on her, Bonnie Bennett – not Elena, not Caroline; she alone filled his sight and mind and caused this physical reaction in him.

She began chanting his name without abandon when he enthusiastically returned to pleasuring her, his hands and mouth driving her mad. Pressure built quickly in her abdomen. Her body was on fire. His digits were pistoning in and out of her with vampire speed. His free hand traveled up to cup her breast, squeezing it and tweaking her nipple with his fingers. When he stopped vibrating his tongue against her clit and closed his lips over the sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking hard, she came, her toes curling. She wailed as her body exploded and her juices (she did not have the presence of mind to be embarrassed) gushed out into his mouth and covering his chin.

Bonnie only realized that he had bitten the inside of her thigh until he began taking long pulls of her blood into his mouth. The feeling made her head spin and drew out her orgasm, bursts of light flashing in her vision. The lustful whine that originated in her throat was new to her, spun from desire. Strangely enough the sharp sting of his fangs lodged in the flesh of her thigh did not hurt liked she'd thought it would; it only caused pleasure to throb in her groin.

She decided she liked his vampire visage. When he was finished he withdrew his fangs and let his face return to normal, lapping at the bloody punctures he'd made until they began to clot. He hummed in contentment and licked his bloodstained lips. A drop of the scarlet liquid remained caught in the corner of his mouth. The carmine color of her life force entranced her, and without thinking she brought her hand down to wipe it away.

"You bit me," she stated indignantly, her voice filled with wonder.

He chuckled. "I did," he replied without remorse. His eyes danced.

He stood swiftly, her legs falling from his shoulders to hang limply off the bed. She used this newfound space as an opportunity to scoot up onto the bed; she was not yet sure if it was to get away from him or to make herself more comfortable for what he had in store for her next.

She watched hungrily as he stripped off his clothes, ripping them open, lacking the patience to undress properly. She tried not to gawk at his naked body – his chiseled abs and chest and wide shoulders had her drooling. The impressive organ between his legs jutted proudly out at her, making her shiver and flush with anticipation.

She could stop him now – it was her last chance – but found, to her amazement, that she did not want to.

She was too far gone, lost in her own pleasure.

Her inspection of his body was cut short when he abruptly grabbed her body and pushed her back onto the mattress, settling on his knees in between her thighs. He leaned down to kiss her, only for a second – it blew her mind anyway – and, before she knew what was happening, he leaned back, brought her legs to his shoulders, and plunged into her with one quick thrust.

Bonnie gasped in surprise. Her whole body was in shock and she found herself unable to properly breathe. She felt…stuffed. His cock was buried to the hilt in her tight channel and filled her completely, touching places she never knew could be accessed, or wasn't aware existed.

He groaned, letting his head fall back, and she stared at him, unable to tear her eyes from the view. He was beautiful, all sharp lines and hard muscles, his hair and golden skin luminous in the setting sun, his Adam's apple exposed and bobbing as he swallowed.

"I knew you'd feel like this," he said huskily, head falling forward to look at her. For the first time she saw him vulnerable, his eyes dazed with lust and his jaw slack. "Tight and wet and perfect."

His hands came to curl around the front of her thighs and gently pulled her so her ass rested more firmly against his thighs. The increased pressure against her womb made her whimper. He stroked his thumb over the sensitive puncture wounds in her inner thigh in a deceptively tender gesture, as if reminding himself of his claim on her…and then pulled out slowly before thrusting back into her with incredible force.

He showed no mercy. He began to pound into her roughly and she couldn't help but wail at the speed of his thrusts. He set a brutally fast pace, his cock driving into her with bruising force, his hips slamming into hers repeatedly.

Through the fog of pleasure she noticed he was panting heavily, his dead lungs heaving with unneeded breaths. He was staring at her lustfully with eyes as black as coal. She inhaled sharply when one of his hands let go of her thigh and seized her breast, his callused thumb rubbing her pebbled nipple. Her hands clenched and unclenched, fisting the comforter on either side of her; she held onto it tightly, seeking any stability she could find as pleasure coursed through her body.

She watched, fascinated, spellbound by the sight of their bodies joining in the most intimate way. Her thighs and his abdomen were covered messily with her fluids, facilitating his momentum as he surged into her tight body. She was embarrassingly wet and could hear the noise her juices made as his cock shoved into her slick channel.

She decided she liked his cock. Oh, the things he was doing to her, the sensations he was causing with his hands, his mouth, his hard, thick length. She didn't mind so much that he was completely dominating her body, rutting against her aggressively in a manner that was almost painful; she really didn't want him to stop.

The weight of her impending orgasm settled once more over her womb. He tilted her hips only a fraction, but the new angle allowed his shaft access to her g-spot, and she was seeing stars as he hit it over and over again.

When he reached down to rub her clit with his thumb, she came with a shout, clutching the bedspread, flying apart under his skilled hands and cock. She was shaking all over – her legs trembled and she locked them firmly around his neck, willing them to stop. He continued to thrust, slower now but no less deep, into her, patiently letting her ride the waves of pleasure before resuming his onslaught against her body.

Before she could even catch her breath and descend from the high of her orgasm, she felt herself spinning; he flipped her over onto her stomach as if she was a flimsy piece of paper.

She decided she liked his strength, the ease with which he handled her body, like she weighed nothing.

"Kol, what – "

She cried out when he yanked her hips up, ass in the air, and plunged into her pliant, oversensitive body, filling her with his length. She had only one thought as he drove into her from behind:

Holy FUCK.

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Kol couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so much pleasure. The simple lust he felt for this woman was unrivaled by anything he'd felt in a very long time, if not ever. She aroused feelings that he had forgotten existed. But now was not the time to muse over these stirred emotions; he could do that later.

He let his desire for her overwhelm him; allowed the ache in his loins to rule his body, unable to hold back any longer. He surged into her from behind and began to set a steady pace, hitting her hard and deep. She hiccupped when he pulled her hips back to meet his thrusts halfway, deepening his penetration and the force with which the head of his penis hit her womb.

He decided he liked her ass. The curve of her spine was captivating, the sinewy muscles in her back flexing sinuously with every movement. The skin of her buttocks was taut and smooth under his hands. Palming her ass cheeks, he used his thumbs to spread them wide, enthralled with the view of his shaft disappearing into her wet heat.

"Bonnie." Her name was like a fervent prayer on his lips. He whispered it again and again with every thrust of his hips, unable to stop himself. He enjoyed saying her name, rolling it off his tongue slowly as if memorizing the feel and sound of it escaping from his lips. She moaned in response.

The animal in him was surfacing, the monster beginning to show its ugly face; he gave himself the satisfaction of picking up the pace. He tangled a hand in her hair and gently but firmly tugged on it, forcing her to arch her back, the muscles in her shoulders and arms flexed and straining. Fuck, but she was beautiful. She had successfully shocked his system, electrocuting his brain and lighting his body on fire. If he had to compare her to something, anything, it would be lightning; she had struck him and zapped him to the core.

He was hammering into her without abandon now. He let go of her hair in favor of capturing her wrists and pinning them behind her back, forcing her head and shoulders to the mattress and her hips high in the air. He was pleased with her flexibility; he'd have to investigate that in more detail later – he had several positions in mind. Her face was turned to the side, her eyes squeezed closed and her lips parted.

He decided he liked her upper lip: it was in perfect proportion to her bottom lip (which he also liked, actually) and the rest of her face (which he found pleasing as well), and was shaped in the classic envied bow that every woman coveted. He imagined those lips against his, running over his body, wrapped around his cock…there were so many uses for such flawless lips, he thought.

He loved her pussy; it fit around him like a glove, welcoming his dick when he shoved it inside of her, tightening down on him when he drew back. The smooth slide of his cock into her cunt and the resounding slap of skin on skin were incredibly erotic. She was impossibly slick, her warm fluids from her previous orgasms and her current state of arousal running down from where they were joined to coat his member, facilitating the glide of his penis into her aching womanhood.

He felt his orgasm fast approaching, the familiar tightening in his loins an indication of his inevitable climax. He tightened his grip on her wrists, no doubt bruising or even spraining them, and brought his free hand around to the front of her pelvis, expertly vibrating his index finger against her sensitive bud.

He relished in the noises she was making; the pitiful little hiccups that escaped with each of his thrusts turned into a loud keen when he started to slam into her with in-human speed. He increased the pressure of his finger on her clit and pounded her into oblivion, knowing she was close to her impending orgasm by the way her body trembled and writhed underneath him.

"Oh, fuck, Kol, oh FUCK –"

She screamed his name as her orgasm crashed through her, faster and stronger than ever before. Her walls fluttered spastically around his thick length. He pulled her torso up and placed her hands on the headboard, one hand covering hers while his other arm wrapped around her waist, stabilizing her, giving him the optimum angle and leverage to hit the sensitive spot deep inside her core, intensifying her climax, reveling in the juices that gushed out onto his thighs. Gods above, she smelled tantalizing.

"That's it," he growled, eyes darkening and fangs extending. He could hear the pounding of her heart, could see the pulsing of her artery; the blood coursing through her supple body called to him, the smell of it mouth-watering. She yelped as, nuzzling her head to the side, he bit her for the second time, sinking his fangs deep into her jugular as his hips continued to piston against hers, driving his cock deep into her slick core.

Her blood was sweetened by her orgasm, and, when she moaned encouragingly and placed a hand on his head, astounding him, he finally let himself fall apart, no longer able to hold it in. He exploded inside of her, his seed spurting forcefully into her snug channel. His eyes closed and he growled into her neck as he drank noisily, slurping at her life essence, groaning at the taste. Ambrosia. The coppery somewhat salty liquid, made slightly sweet with her release, ran smoothly down his throat as he sucked it down in long pulls.

He reined the bloodlust in when her heartbeat slowed dramatically, fighting to tear his mouth away from her neck. Her small hand was still buried in his hair, disallowing any movement from her neck. He licked at the mess he'd created, lapping up blood that leaked from the nasty puncture wounds marring her lovely neck. He had not been neat – her fluffy white comforter, dotted with delicate lavender flowers, was now covered with bloodstains; her pillows and the wall above her headboard were riddled with bright red spatters. Trails of crimson ran in rivulets down her body and dripped from his chin and neck. Some of her hair had gotten caught in the crossfire, so to speak, and the long tendrils were sticky with blood.

Her lithe body trembled – or maybe it was his, he couldn't be sure. He sighed against her neck, sated. One hand still covered hers on the rail of her headboard; the other was pressed flat against her stomach just above her belly button. Her skin was warm against his palm. She was so…human. So fragile; so easily broken – he could snap her like a twig. And yet he felt no disgust, no disdain.

She was more than just one of his witches, now; she was Bonnie, Bonnie Bennett, and she was special, better than the others. He had claimed her, and she had let him. She was his – whether she knew it or not.

He slowly loosened his hold on her, his softened member slipping from her folds as he pulled away from her luscious body to flop down next to her on the bed. He missed her warmth already. He sighed, utterly satisfied. A sense of peace engulfed him; one that he had not felt in ages.

He'd made her come three times. He shrugged; not bad – he could live with that.

Next time, when his self-control returned and his hunger for her wasn't so intense, he would make it seven.

If he were a different man he would have perhaps been more concerned with her reaction; as it was, he just watched her in silence, curious. She remained kneeling, her hands clutching the headboard with white knuckles. Kol's eyes flickered down to stare at the juices that flooded out from between her thighs and ran down her legs. Her heartbeat was slowing and the hazy film of desire that had settled over her unusual eyes was starting to fade. She was striking.

She was magnificent.

"Fucking hell."

He hummed in amusement, absentmindedly lifting a hand to ghost it down the side that was facing him, trailing it from her breast down to her hip. The light touch had her shivering and coming back to her senses, and she slowly lowered herself down onto her back. He grinned when she didn't even bother to right herself: just leaned backward so her head rested down at the footboard of her bed.

He decided he liked her feet. They were small – tiny, in fact – and had a high arch; little fairy feet. Her toes were petite and painted scarlet – a shade that almost matched the bloody red that covered her body. They were attached to well-turned ankles (he remembered the term from his youth, when all that was visible of a woman's body was her ankles) and shapely calves that ran up to the thighs and buttocks he was now familiar with.

"Oh, God," she groaned, her eyes closing and her hands coming up to press against her temples. "Holy fucking God." She seemed at a loss for words, intelligent thought failing her for once.

"No, just me, darling," he drawled amusedly, wrapping a hand around her foot and rubbing her instep with his thumb. "Although if you think I'm a god, I certainly won't object," he teased gently.

"Fuck you, Kol."

He snorted. It was said tiredly and without malice; simply a front to maintain a semblance of normalcy after this afternoon's events.

The sun had begun to set through the window, casting her in shades of gold and pink. Holy hell: she was glorious.

He decided he liked her.

"I believe you already did, darling."

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Yes? No? Maybe so? Thanks for reading!