Long Distance Call

(Prompt from an Anon: klaroline + phone sex? sexting? Smut.)

Part One: Wake Up Tired

Her chair scrapes against the concrete as her hips shift and a man at a neighboring table glances over.

"Shhh, love," Klaus murmurs so quiet that only she can hear him. He strokes over the lace covering her center, his touch soft and driving her crazy, "You have to stay still if you don't want everyone to know what we're doing, hmm?"

He appears perfectly relaxed, just as he had since they'd sat down. He had leaned over once the waiter left with their drink orders and asked her to spread her legs wide, to hook her feet around the chair's legs, before he'd slid his hand up her thigh. It had been a challenge, and he'd held her gaze as she'd considered it, his blue eyes sparking with lust and admiration once she'd done what he asked.

She stares down at her menu, keeping her face carefully blank, as his fingers push her soaked panties to the side…

"Caroline. Caroline, wake up!"

Caroline sits up with a gasp, looking around wildly, her brain sluggish with the remnants of her dream. She's disappointed to realize that she's in her dorm room at Whitmore, and not at a table in her imagination's rendering of a cute little bistro in Paris.

But come on, who wouldn't be dismayed? Leaving aside the fact that she's uncomfortably aroused, her panties damp and nipples budded, aching for Klaus' touch, her dorm room is dull and colorless compared to the scene that had been playing in her dream.

Bonnie's staring down at her, her concern apparent and a healthy dollop of guilt hits Caroline. "Are you okay? You've been having trouble sleeping for weeks, maybe even months. If it's nightmares you can talk to me, you know?"

God, it really was a good thing Elena spent most of her nights away from the room. One tiny silver lining to her weird Damon dependency. Their other best friend's heightened senses would have been able to pick up on the fact that it wasn't fear waking Caroline up at night. The thoughts that leave her sweat soaked and tangled in her sheets would be impossible to explain.

Caroline ruthlessly pushes aside her discomfort, ignoring the insistent pulsing between her thighs and the pounding of her heart. She forces a smile, for Bonnie's benefit, before sliding her legs to the edge of the bed, "I'm fine, Bon. Really. It's probably just the stress of finals and you know, everything. I'm sure it'll pass eventually. An extra blood bag and I'll be good to go."

Bonnie's clearly skeptical, watching Caroline throw on a sweater and flip flops, "Where are you going? It's 3AM."

"Just for a walk. Fresh air will be good for me. Go back to sleep, okay? I'll see you in the morning." Caroline grabs her keys and her phone, tossing a wave in Bonnie's direction, and lets herself out of the room.

Once the door's shut she squeezes her eyes closed, and leans back against the wall. Caroline holds her breath and listens carefully for Bonnie's movements, "Please, please go back to bed," she mutters. It's quiet for a second, then she hears the telltale rustling of bedsheets, the creaking of mattress springs. She smiles in relief. Bonnie wasn't going to follow, wasn't going to press.

A good thing, because Caroline isn't entirely certain she'd be able to stop herself from word vomitting her sexual frustrations all over Bonnie if she did.

'I've been having dirty sex dreams about Klaus for weeks and I always wake up right before I can get off' probably wasn't something Bonnie wanted to hear. Such a statement would, in fact, probably lead poor Bonnie to a search for some kind of witchy brain bleach spell.

Bonnie has finals too so Caroline thinks she should spare her friend the aggravation. As it is, with her own inability to focus on studying, Caroline's seriously considering a round of compulsion on her professors. Nothing too drastic, maybe just get them to bump her up a letter grade. Would that be so wrong? It's not like she didn't know the material, she's just having a tough time getting it to stick in her brain.

The only thoughts that seem to find purchase these days are the ones that relate to the increasingly racy dreams she's been having about Klaus.

Caroline had been convinced that the dreams would fade, as they had the two other times she'd taken Klaus' blood. She'd surmised it was one of the effects of bloodsharing that Stefan had kind of glossed over in his Vampiring 101 lessons after she'd turned.

Klaus was her only frame of reference and both times she'd drunk from him she'd felt a little more alive for a few days afterwards. Nothing drastic, she'd just had more energy, had noticed that her senses were heightened and had done her best to ignore her raging libido. She'd had privacy, in the past, thanks to her mother's odd hours. She's been able to to deal with her lustful feelings in peace, though the guilt of touching herself and coming with Klaus' face in her mind had been intense.

This time there's no guilt – she'd chosen to sleep with Klaus and in doing so had accepted that it was only her business - but also not a lot of relief. She adamantly refused to give in to the urge to masturbate, with Bonnie scant feet away, and there were only so many late night showers a girl could take until people began to get suspicious.

This isn't the first time Caroline's slipped out in the wee hours, nor is it the first time she's headed to the forest planning to sprint until she was just a little bit tired. She's optimistic every time she makes the trek, hoping she'll calm down enough to be able to sleep until morning

Her attempts to sublimate via physical activity have yet to work but Caroline Forbes isn't a quitter.

She'd just really, really, like to know why this thing wasn't fading.

She'd almost worked up the courage to ask Stefan. She's attempted to broach the subject of her insomnia and see if he knew of any reason why this could be happening to her. Caroline had never been able to force the words out, internally cringing in anticipation of just how awkward they would make things.

The dreams had started off simply. Her subconscious had brought her back to the afternoon (and evening) she and Klaus had spent together, had treated her to a vivid play by play. Not exactly ideal but, since she'd already lived it, she'd known what to expect. Caroline probably could have handled those dreams.

Then the content had shifted, her subconscious getting creative. She'd stopped dreaming of what had happened and started fantasizing about what could have happened.

Klaus whirling her out of the ballroom the first night they'd danced and peeling the dress he'd given her off of her body with his teeth. Him bending her over a pool table at the bar. Klaus on his knees, her thighs over his shoulders, on the desk in Professor Shane's office. Her riding him on the couch in his mansion, the day Silas had gotten into his head, using his uncharacteristic weakness to her advantage and slapping his hands away when he tried to touch her. His cock deep inside her, her back to his chest, in the backseat of his giant SUV after graduation, while he whispered dirty words in her ear.

Her brain had taken every moment they'd ever spent together and spun different endings. Hot, filthy ones that left Caroline aroused and unable to focus.

Caroline's certain that she's not going to be able to pass the bench outside The Mystic Grill without blushing anytime soon.

Just as she'd gotten used to those thoughts, the dreams had shifted again.

To situations they'd never been in, places Caroline could only imagine. Doing things that she'd never expressed an interest in outside of the privacy of her own mind.

Seriously. Klaus fingering her in public was tame compared to some of the other scenarios that had played out in Caroline's mind.

Shaking herself and letting out a frustrated groan Caroline reaches out and rips a thick branch off of a tree. She flings it away with great force, shouting out her frustration into the cool evening air. The hunk of wood cracks in half when it hits another tree, the pieces thumping to the ground.

Letting her thoughts wander down those paths would not be helpful. Not at all. She's supposed to be forgetting, clearing her mind. Not filling it with more sexy-hot Klaus fantasies.

Caroline slips her feet out of her shoes, because experience has taught her that flip flops are a bitch to run in, takes a deep (hopefully cleansing!) breath, before she flashes off into the deepest parts of the forest.

Maybe this time she'll be able to focus on the movements of her body, the burn of exertion, and ignore her whirling thoughts.

She pulls hard but the silk ribbons (blue, because he likes the color against her skin) around her wrists don't give. Klaus' laugh is rich with amusement, the sound muffled against her back, "Something you wanted, love?"

He punctuated the question with an innocent kiss to her shoulder, and a not so innocent swirl of his index finger over her clit.

Her thighs tense instinctively, trying to trap his hand, needing more pressure, but they're bound to the bottom posts of the bed, so it's a futile attempt.

Caroline bites her lip, rubs her breasts into the mattress below her, but the silk of the sheets offers too little friction on her aching nipples.

Klaus levers himself up, abandoning the slow kisses he's been laying down her spine, to lay down next to her, his face inches from hers on the pillow, leaving the hand between her legs where it is, resting against her pussy but not actually touching her.

She has no idea how much time has passed, how long he's tormented her with light brushes, quietly voiced praises, and taunts about all the ways he plans to make her come.

Her body's burning, muscles pulled taut, skin damp with a sheen of sweat. Caroline is very close to begging for more.

Klaus eases a finger inside of her, slowly drags it out, the glide audible given how wet she is. Caroline's back arches and a moan escapes. Klaus pulls his hand away, resting it on her ass. Caroline whimpers, pressing back as much as she is able.

Klaus smooths her hair from her face, brushes his mouth against hers tenderly, before he pulls back and waits for her eyes to focus on him.

"If you want something, Caroline, you have to ask for it…"

It's an alarm that rouses her this time, and Caroline's hand shoots out, grabbing her phone. She narrowly manages to resist flinging it across the room. As temporarily satisfying as that would be she'd be pissed when she had to shell out the money to replace it.

Caroline glances around the room, noting Bonnie's absence. She vaguely remembers something about an early meet up for a group project but all that really matters is that she's blessedly alone.

She only hesitates for about three seconds, before she's kicking off her pajama bottoms and getting her knees under her. She shoves her face into a pillow, not sure who's milling about and knowing it's unlikely that this will be quiet.

With two fingers curling inside of her pussy, and two more rubbing her clit, it's a fast climb to a shattering orgasm. Her groans muffled in the cotton under her as her hips roll to meet her motions, her thighs shaking as her inner muscles clench around her too slim digits.

She finishes with a long, drawn out moan, a sound that she refuses to recognize as a name, letting her knees slip down until she's once more on her stomach, flat against the bed.

A fleeting thought from the dream - of Klaus shoving a pillow under her hips as he dragged his tongue up the back of her thigh - flickers through her mind and a new ripple of arousal heats her insides.

Caroline presses her lips together to hold back the stream of curses that wants to emerge even as she flips onto her back and brings a hand up to palm her breast.

It's going to be a long day.

The feathery touch of the sable brush, the coolness of the paint as it's stroked over her nipple has Caroline's eyes fluttering shut, her fists clenching at her sides.

When they open again, Klaus is smiling down at her, "Cold, love? Sorry about that," he says innocently, except he doesn't sound the least bit apologetic.

He's kneeling next to her, palette in hand, studying her with an intensity that makes it difficult not to squirm.

His gaze is heated as it sweeps down her body, "This might be my masterpiece, sweetheart, and I've barely even begun."

Caroline rolls her eyes at that, the lack of modestly was entirely expected, and they lapse into silence as he works his way down her body. Her stomach tightens under the strokes of his brush and she struggles not to moan.

She lets out a gasp, feeling the paint trail over her pubic bone, bites back a whimper when Klaus' breath brushes her skin even lower.

Setting aside the brush and palette, Klaus lowers his mouth. He presses a kiss to her folds that makes her shake. She has to fight the urge to move as his eyes track up her body, lit with mischief. "Let's play a game. I'm going to taste you, Caroline. But if you smudge the paint, I won't let you come. Do you think you can handle that?"

His fingers spread her wide and his tongue darts out, flicking over her clit rapidly.

Caroline isn't sure she'll be able to win this game. At all. But she wants him to keep going, can't imagine asking him to stop. She nods mutely and Klaus' tongue delves deeper, the point of it massaging her clit.

She's kind of proud that she manages not to arch up into his mouth.

"Good girl," Klaus croons against her soaked flesh. "Now I need you to spread your legs wider for me."

Caroline's eyes fly open staring blankly upwards. Not up at the gorgeous crown mouldings she remembers from Klaus' studio but at her plain boring dorm room ceiling.

"Damn it!" she exclaims, practically vibrating with frustration. She freezes, listening carefully, plotting how to cover up her outburst. Then she remembers that she's alone. Bonnie's off for the weekend with Jeremy and Elena is glued to Damon's side as per usual.

Before she can reconsider what she's about to do Caroline's sitting up in bed, grabbing her phone and punching in her passcode. Flinging the covers away she gets up. A couple of taps on the screen and she was listening to it ring.

Several agonizing moments pass and Caroline nearly hangs up. She frantically paces the length of her dorm room, scarcely breathing. Her hand is shaking and it's only the knowledge that caller I.D. was a thing that stops her from chickening out. She's certain that he would just call her back and that was not an explanation that Caroline wanted to make. When Klaus answers his voice is hoarse with sleep, "Hello? Caroline?"

"What did you do to me?" Caroline demands. "Is this some freaky Original Hybrid power? Are you long distance sex dreaming me somehow? Because that is not cool. Not cool at all."

There are several seconds of silence from Klaus' side, and he has the gall to sound amused when he replies, "I'm afraid that's just a bit beyond the scope of my abilities. Though I am most intrigued."

"It's not funny, Klaus! I haven't slept through the night since before you were here. Tired Caroline equals cranky Caroline equals everybody hates Caroline. It has to be your fault."

"I did nothing," he snaps. "I made you a promise and I've kept it. So if that's all, if there's no dire emergency, I'd really like to get back to sleep."

He's pissed, his words fast and clipped and Caroline finds her own anger deflating. She sits back on the bed, "What is wrong with me?" she grumbles.

Klaus makes a noise, clearly derisive, "Perhaps it's not quite so easy to maintain that tightly leashed control of yours, to pretend that you're happy playing at being mundane, once you've given into your wants."

There's a ring of truth to his words. Caroline's not blind to the content of the fantasies her mind had conjured, to the realization that they'd often involved a surrender on her part. She sighs, long and defeated, "Right. Sorry to bother you."

Klaus doesn't reply, but she can hear him breathing. Now that he's there she doesn't want him to hang up.

"So…" she begins, wracking her brain for a conversation starter, something that will make him stay on the line.

"Tell me about the dreams, Caroline." It's not a question, the way he phrases it. It's an order, no less compelling for how softly it's made.

It lingers between them as he waits patiently for her reply, "Which one?" Caroline asks finally, in a rush, before she can lose her nerve.

"Let's start with the one that woke you up just now. The one that frustrated you so intensely that you had to call me."

"You were painting me," Caroline tells him.

He hums in approval, and Caroline closes her eyes, lets the sound wash over her, "Something I've done often, since I left you." She hears him moving, and then her phone vibrates in her hand. He's texted her a picture of a canvas. It's her face, eyes heavy lidded with want, hair bright against green grass, a smile curving her lips. It's beautiful and it brings the memories rushing back, how exhilarating it had been to give into the things she felt for him. She'd taken a leap then. What's one more now?

Caroline relaxes back, plumping her pillows under her head. Her tone's deliberately different when she speaks again, lower and more seductive, "Not quite like that. You were painting my skin."

Klaus' inhale is sharp, and Caroline grins to herself, "Was I?" he prompts, his desire to hear more evident.

Is she really doing this? Caroline almost can't believe it, even as she lets her hand drop down to slide over the skin of her stomach left bare between her sleep shorts and tank. "You were. It felt good in my head. And then…" Caroline trails off both to build his anticipation and shore up her courage.

"Tell me," Klaus' demand is quick and gruff.

Caroline hesitates, unsure of how to phrase it. She's never done much in the way of dirty talk, doesn't want to be bad at it.

"Did I touch you, Caroline? Did I play with your clit the way I've learned you like? Or did I use my mouth?"

Ugh. Of course he'd be good at this.

Her disgruntlement doesn't last long, because his words have her pressing her thighs together.

"The last one," Caroline tells him, hating the slight primness with which it comes out.

The amused noise that spills from him is throaty, and it ramps the heat building in her belly higher. She pushes her hand under her shorts, parting her legs to give herself room to explore. "I'm not surprised. I remember how enthusiastic you were about that particular act."

She feels her face heat in embarrassment, "Shut up."

"You shouldn't feel shame, love. Not even a hint of it. I adored every moment of it, of you writhing against my tongue. They way your thighs twitched and the way you pulled at my hair. The way you pleaded for more. There's little I wouldn't do for another taste of you, Caroline. Perhaps in a more adventurous position, hmm? Would you like to kneel over me, lower yourself to meet my mouth? I think I'd like to look up at you, watch you tugging on your nipples with your head thrown back in pleasure."

Caroline can't stop herself from saying his name, or stop the little whine that colors the vowels.

"Where are you, Caroline?" he asks urgently.

She lets out a short, breathy laugh, "Pretty sure you're supposed to ask me what I'm wearing first."

"I don't care what you're wearing. I care that you're alone, so you can take off whatever that might be."

"I'm in my room at school," Caroline answers. "My roomies are back in Mystic Falls, loved up with their boyfriends."

"Excellent," Klaus drawls. "Now strip for me."

Caroline narrows her eyes, even though he can't see her. But she does it, setting the phone down and taking her time. She snaps a picture of her bare legs, shorts crumpled at the foot of her bed, and sends it to him.

He emits a quiet groan, "Do feel free to continue sending me photos, love."

"We'll see," Caroline demurs. She puts him on speaker, resting the phone next to her head. Her nipples have puckered, in the air conditioned chill of the room. Caroline licks her fingertips, and brings her hands down to roll the sensitive peaks. She lets out a soft sigh.

Klaus, of course, has no trouble picking it up. There's a hint of strain in his tone, "Are you touching yourself, Caroline?"

"Isn't that why you wanted me naked?" Caroline shoots back.

"Tell me where."

"My breasts."

"Are you imagining your hands are mine?"

"Yes," Caroline tells him, before she has time to wonder if she maybe should have lied.

"Good," Klaus growls.

"I think you should be naked too," Caroline blurts out. If they're doing this they might as well really do this.

She hears him move, the slide of a zipper, and a faint clink that's probably his belt hitting the floor. "Where are you?" she asks, curious.

"My bedroom."

"Are you… alone?"

Klaus lets out an exasperated huff, "Caroline, do you really think I would be doing this with you if there was another person in my bed?"

Caroline snorts, "Not if you had any hope of ever doing it again. But," she stills her hands, "I meant are you alone in the house? The idea of Rebekah overhearing this is super creepy."

She can tell Klaus is trying not to laugh, "The rooms are spelled. We like our privacy."

"Oh. Smart," Caroline clears her throat, resumes toying with her nipples. Her mind drifts back to an earlier dream, "What does your bed look like?"

"Why?" Klaus asks knowingly, "Do you want your fantasies to be more accurate?"

Caroline finds she doesn't like the smugness and it makes her reckless, ""I just thought I should know if the frame is wood or metal so when I picture being tied to it…"

"Fuck, Caroline," Klaus bites out.

Caroline smiles, lets a hand drift down her belly again, "What? I thought you wanted to hear about my dreams? Should I stop?"

"Don't stop."

"I don't know if you've earned that one yet," Caroline muses, trying to sound casual. "It was really dirty," her voice breaks on the last word as her fingers part her folds, sliding down to gather her wetness.

"Tell me another, then. We can save that one for next time." He sounds so sure that there will be a next time. And as Caroline's back bows as she begins circling her clit, her knees spread wide, she can't bring herself to argue.

She searches for something to say, but draws a blank, as her fingers rub faster, her body moving with her hand, chasing the pleasure that's coiling inside of her, "Tell me one of yours," she gasps.

"Only one?" Klaus makes a considering noise, like he's giving the question serious thought, and Caroline really needs him to keep talking, "I have hundreds, love. Maybe even thousands. But I think it's only fair if I save the more… exotic ones. Since you did."

"Klaus," she moans. "Since when do you believe in fair?"

"Whenever it suits me." He pauses and Caroline listens carefully, thinks she can just make out the sound of skin on skin. His breathing hitches, and then he's talking again, "I have several where I paint you. Properly, on a canvas. You're naked, of course, and I've already had you once, so you're flushed and lovely and your thighs are marked with our cum. Spread out on a bed. All that pretty pale skin on display. You wear only jewels. Sapphires. Ropes and ropes of them, spilling over your breasts. Later, when I fuck you again, I roll them over your tight little nipples until they're aching and you drag my mouth to them, begging for my teeth."

Caroline closes her eyes, pictures what he's describing. Imagines laying there, for hours, while he painstakingly commits her form to canvas.

It would be torturous, she's sure, in the best possible way.

"Let's see, what else is there? I like to think about your lips on my cock. Maybe in the shower? Water beading on your skin as you touch yourself , make yourself moan, while you suck me."

A whimper escapes Caroline, her fingers rubbing her clit harder, as her other hand abandons her breast to sink inside her body, twisting on each downstroke.

"I want to see you feed, your eyes red and fangs out. I expect you're tidy, but not when I watch. I want to lick the blood you spill from your throat, follow it down the curves of your breasts. I want to suck your clit, get the taste of your arousal in my mouth, and then sink my teeth into the artery of your thigh while you drink from my wrist."

"Klaus…" It's a moan, drawn out and needy. Caroline adds another finger to the ones working inside of her, body thrashing against her bed, "More. I'm almost…"

His words come faster, grow gravely, "I think about fucking you from behind, high above a crowd. You're bent over a railing with your skirt flipped up as you take my cock, where anyone can look up and see what we're doing. I think you'd like the thrill of it, that I'd barely have to touch you to get you wet enough for me."

It brings her back to the dream she'd had about Paris, and Caroline comes hard, bringing her arm up to muffle her shout.

She hears Klaus follow her, letting out a soft groan of release, a sound she's familiar with from their time in the woods. It sends another pulse through her, prolonging the aftershocks.

Her heart's racing, her breathing labored, and she's glad that, from the sounds of it, she's not alone.

She wipes one shaky hand on her bedspread, before picking up her phone, stammering out, "That was…" Words and thoughts flit through her mind, but none seem adequately descriptive.

Hot. Intense. Amazing.

Caroline kind of wants to do it again. Immediately.

"A mistake, I'm guessing?" Klaus' reply is bitter, almost a snarl.

Caroline's quiet as she thinks about it. She can't blame him for thinking she might have regrets but she feels none. "No," she tells him firmly, "Not a mistake. Maybe not smart, because I'm probably going to be adding your fantasies to my dreams now. And I'm totally going to wonder what you meant by exotic. I think that's going to make sleeping even harder."

He laughs softly, and Caroline finds herself smiling. "Well, love. If you ever need assistance again, to work out any lingering tension I'm just a phone call away.

He lets the offer sit between them though Caroline does not miss the note of hope he lets her hear.

She finds herself smiling, "I have your number."