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Sleeping Queen

Chapter 6: Chapter 5

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Klaus is on her before Elena's fragile mind can react. Her brain distantly absorbs the sound of doors crashing against walls, shattering, and she feels the room shudder at his presence. The blankets are thrown off her, and cold air immediately replaces it, goosebumps spreading across her bared skin. He's rough, she notes, almost clinically, as he shoves her sleep clothes aside. His fingers stroke roughly through her folds, barely waiting to dip into her core and test her readiness as his thumb flicks her clit. 

 

His preparation is more for his pleasure than hers, she muses, her senses shuddering to life the more he touches her.  

 

His thumb continues to roughly circle her clit until he can feel the faintest traces of her physical pleasure on his fingertips; her body is well-trained now and rises to the occasion rapidly at his demanding touch. 

 

She hears the click of his belt and the long shhhhh sound of him yanking it off through the loops on his jeans, the thunk as it hit the floor to the side as he undoes his pants rapidly and shoves them down before situating himself between her thighs, not bothering to fully undress as his slicked fingers dig into her thighs and he spreads her wide, her comatose form still retaining the flexibility of her cheerleader years (yet another piece of herself she's had to give up to the supernatural world, left behind in the girlhood she missed before she realized it)  bending pliantly for him and buries himself inside her. Oh god, she feels like he's in her throat at this angle, the friction burning her like never before; she never thought she would miss the time he took to prepare her for his cock until he carved out space instead with only the barest effort, just enough to ease his own way into her depths. 

 

Carving out space to fill inside her until there's nothing left but a monster growling, snarling into her neck as he covers her with his body and works himself between her thighs, hard and heavy inside her, muscles rigid and tense as he snapped his hips into hers again and again and again. Working out his rage through her body. Taking what he needs from her. More whispered words from Mrs. Lockwood crossed her mind, more things that their teenage ears weren't meant to hear after parties ended and children were sent to bed. Why would her husband need to learn to process her emotions when he had her to do it for him? 

 

She hates the pieces of himself Klaus has already left behind. Tainting her with his darkness. She hates how she expected something like this to happen. Hates that small piece of her that feels comforted that he came back. To her. Hates that he's using her. Hates that she needs him to ground her. 

 

Hates. 

 

Hates. 

 

Hates. 

 

Hates. 

 

Hates.

 

Missed hates the way he feels between her thighs, the way he makes her feel, even when he is just using her for his own pleasure. Using her to work through the anger that consumes him. Missed hates the way he would curl around her, cock filling her to the brim as his come trickled out, filling her without needing more from her. In those moments, she felt calmer than she could ever remember feeling with her previous boyfriends. 

 

Elena feels jagged spikes of pain from the way his body moves against her, her human body struggling to take the ancient hybrid as his body presses hers down down down with his weight, and she knows how close he is to filling her with more pieces of him. She can feel him swelling inside her and hears him snarl words into her ear with every movement. Mindless phrases she could barely catch in this state. 

 

Mine. Snarl. 

 

...y doppelganger. Thrust. 

 

Need to put a... inside... Groan.

 

...family. Thrust.

 

The dark, slow burn of her own pleasure isn't far behind. The fire licks up her spine with every movement her monster makes, the pain bleeding into pleasure with every brutal thrust. She's beginning to quiver around him, she notes, as his hips start to lose their rhythm, rocking faster into her, her breasts jolting with every slap that filled the room and dragging across his chest, his necklaces clinking together in a familiar way.  

 

She feels the heat surge inside her from where they are connected, his rage and pleasure both searing her insides with every spurt, dragging her over the edge with him. Her whole body is on fire as his heavy form collapses onto her, chest heaving as he lays panting above her. 

 

He's crushing her to the mattress with his weight. 

 

Silent. 

 

The calm after a hurricane comes barreling through, the muscles finally relaxing when you no longer need to hold on for dear life. 

 

Because. 

 

What else can you do before nature's wrath? What else can you do before a dragon's rage comes to burn burn burn it all to the ground. Until nothing but ashes and memories remain. 

 

She barely hears the words he says next. His lips press into her neck, his sweaty forehead warm against her colder body, and his whispers barely reach her ears. 

 

They can never take you from me—you are my doppelganger. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She shatters completely. 

 

Because she knows. She knows who they is and what this means. She knows why he was gone for days. She knows why he came back to her, burning with rage to slake along with his lust.  She knows why she didn't want to feel hope unfurl in her chest, growing into something he could destroy again. And this time, she knows it's not the river that is filling her cage, drowning her in the darkness as she fades away and her monster resuming his post curling around her, inside her, his hand curled possessively over her belly. Cradling her to his body. Caressing her and whispering dangerous things that she can't hear over the sound of ringing – screams – filling her ears.

 

It's her tears. 

 

Drip drip dripping until they cover her body, rushing inside to drown out her screams. 

 

Until all she feels is the weightlessness of floating inside the darkness again.