For Luiza and Madina, who have both been kind enough to wait years for this. It's a full version of a drabble on my tumblr, which is why it might look familiar to some.

Summary: Dragon!Klaus finds the girl he's been having dreams about for months but never met in his treasure room, and it turns out she's his soulmate. If only said soulmate would believe him.

Contains: Dream sex, Dragon!Klaus in modern times, Caroline being tied up, power play (but not BDSM).

Klaus's eyes flew open abruptly, interrupting a very vivid dream involving a blonde staring up at him with bright blue eyes and her lips wrapped around his cock. He'd never seen her before, but she'd started popping up in his dreams not too long ago, some more sexual than others… It was odd, but he figured that he must have seen a picture of her somewhere and subconsciously remembered her face.

Sighing, he got out of bed, slightly irritated that he'd been pulled out of what had seemed like one of the best dreams yet, and tried to figure out what woke him. He was answered by a quiet rustling down the hallway, his enhanced hearing picking up a soft feminine voice spitting out a variety of colorful expletives.

He opened the door to approach the room, his footsteps predatory and silent, his teeth gritting when he realized that whoever the girl was, she was in his third treasure room, which was devoted to his most precious possessions (as opposed to the first, second and fourth, which were gold, silver, and gems and jewelry, respectively). He felt his fingernails lengthen into claws, his teeth beginning to sharpen as he approached, and he let out a soft growl as he opened the door with his shoulder, only to see…the blonde from his dreams?

She was barefoot, dressed in only a thin slip, her hair rumpled as though she'd just woken from sleep. She was as beautiful as she was in his dreams, perhaps moreso, but even as he looked at her face he couldn't place her. She also didn't appear to be holding anything, though she crossed her arms over her chest when she noticed his eyes linger on her breasts, her pebbled nipples showing through the silk.

"Um, eyes up here please."

"Why are you in my treasure room?" he growled, ignoring her pointed reprimand, though he couldn't help but notice her eyes roam appreciatively over his naked chest, lingering on the tattoo inked on his neck before she seemed to jerk back to reality.

"Um, excuse me? What am I doing in your treasure room? How the hell am I supposed to know? I just woke up and was here," she said, waving her arms around to indicate the piles of his most precious valuables.

"A likely story," he murmured, carefully stepping over a pile of swords encrusted with diamonds to approach her. He gave into a sudden urge to touch her skin, wondering if it was as soft as it looked, and he ran a fingertip down her cheek, frowning when she flinched away.

"It's true! Why else would I be here?"

He gestured pointedly to the piles of treasures surrounding them and she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest again, her tongue darting over her lips before she spoke again. "Well, I'm not here to steal your gold or whatever, if that's what you're thinking. Do you seriously think that if I was going to go invade a dragon tower I'd wear my nightgown? And no shoes?"

"And yet, here you are," he bit out, taking a step towards her, and she stepped back at the same time. He felt an odd twist in his chest as she moved, a spark of fear clear in her eyes, and he suddenly felt…ashamed? He didn't want her to be afraid.

How odd.

"Seriously! What's your problem?"

He ruthlessly pushed away the shame, the curiosity, trying to keep his tone harsh when he answered. "My problem, sweetheart, is that you've entered a space devoted to my most precious possessions without my consent."

He watched with interest as she planted her hands on her hips, her eyes fiery. She really was beautiful, her slip clinging to her in all the right places, cherry-painted toes curled against the smooth stone floor. "I ended up here without my consent too, buddy. Remember?"

He somehow couldn't help but feel a bit territorial, a bit possessive, and all he wanted to do was press her against the nearest wall and claim her–

Shit.

"You belong to me. You're my most precious possession," he breathed, his eyes widening in realization.

He only realized that he'd said it out loud at her snarl of indignation.

"Excuse me? Your what? Um, this is the 21st century. I have rights. You can't just like, kidnap me and tell me I belong to you. How old are you?"

"I'm roughly three thousand years old. I stopped counting quite a long time ago. And you, sweetheart…you're my mate."

"I'm your what now?"

"Mate. Soulmate, if you'd prefer."

"I don't prefer, actually," she shot back, her arms crossed over her chest. "That's insane."

He resisted the urge to argue, to tell her how he knew. He wanted nothing more than to give her a detailed picture of the way she'd writhed for him in his dreams, and he suspected in hers. It was likely from her accent that she was from what was now called North America, and the only reason she hadn't been transported before was because they'd never slept at the same time, only seeing each other in dreams but never sharing them. Even so, she was doing an excellent job of pretending that she didn't know who he was, but he wasn't sure that would hold up if he took the time to point out that he could smell the remnants of her arousal from him still lingering in the air, that she smelled delicious.

Unfortunately, he could already tell that she'd push back even more, and he couldn't have that.

As if she'd read his thoughts, she tore her eyes away from him and he found himself immediately missing the fire in them. He drank in every movement of her body as her gaze roamed around the room to take in her surroundings as though trying to buy time. He was content to sit and watch, to wait. She seemed like the type who had a need to break silences.

He was proven right when she took a deep breath and turned back to him. "Well?" she asked, her tone slightly aggressive.

"Well what, sweetheart?"

"Aren't you going to like, walk me to the door, or something? Obviously neither of us want me here, so..." she trailed off expectantly, her eyebrows raised.

He debated correcting her, telling her that now that he knew who she was—what she was—he didn't have any inclination to let her leave. She already seemed skittish, however, and he'd met enough women over his three thousand years to know that young ladies tended to only be flattered by the urge to hoard them in theory. No, he'd have to be subtle. "It's quite late," he pointed out, nodding in the general direction of the window, which showed an abyss of inky black sky and a smattering of stars, the tower so high that even the hills' peaks seemed small.

"I know."

"And cold."

"I know," she repeated irritably, shivering slightly as though the reminder had made her more aware of the chilly temperature. He didn't make a habit of keeping the fires lit anywhere but the human servants' quarters, though in the cold months he allowed them to tend to them around the castle for their own comfort, if only to save him the time of finding new ones should they die of hypothermia.

"Perhaps you should wait until morning," he said, trying to be diplomatic, sensing that she might take pointing out that she might freeze to death as a challenge.

Humans were ever so fragile, after all, a fact he was reminded of when he noticed the girl shift uncomfortably again.

"I'm fine, thanks," she said with a toss of her hair. "Full offense, but you seriously expect me to have a sleepover with a three thousand year old dragon when he thinks I'm his soulmate? You guys aren't exactly known for letting people go when you trap them in towers. Thanks, but no thanks."

He bit back his natural retort that he'd simply been minding his own business, hadn't asked to be permanently tied to a human girl who couldn't be more than two decades old. His immediate instinct was to move her somewhere warm, to keep her safe, and her immediate rejection of his good intentions stung. It was uncomfortable to have such an instant attachment, even worse that she seemed to not reciprocate in the least. He couldn't deny that it hurt slightly, no matter how ridiculous that was. He wasn't used to caring for anyone.

It was natural to be protective of one's mate, and he fully intended to keep her, but he had to be careful. Dragons weren't the only creatures to be cursed with them (or blessed, depending on your perspective), and he'd known many monsters who'd grown soft after their dreams became reality. He could not become such a monster. He was proudly as cold-blooded emotionally as he was physically, and the girl didn't seem all that inclined to make the foreign rush of emotion any easier on him.

"I have only innocent intentions, I assure you," he bit out.

"That's not a trap denial," she pointed out, and he narrowed his eyes at her flushed cheeks and paling fingers, could hear the change in her heartbeat, her tongue darting over her lips.

"I insist you at least warm up while I arrange transportation, then," he said, standing aside and gesturing for her to exit the room.

"You have a phone, right? I can just like, call an uber or a taxi or something. Those have heat," she said impatiently, breezing past him into the hallway and falling into step beside him, composed and haughty in just her thin slip and bare feet as though it was the most natural thing in the world. He was almost impressed.

"Cabs can't make it out this far, I'm afraid."

She snorted. "You'd be surprised at places I've hailed cabs."

He doubted it but hummed noncommittally, coming to a stop at the double doors at the end of the hall that led to what should have been a staircase and opening them to reveal the smooth stone walls of a shaft that led to the top floor of the castle proper. "In order to ensure that the human servants can't access my treasures I make this tower accessible only by flight."

He glanced at her, unsurprised to see that she looked a bit rattled. "So how do I get down?"

"Well, you can either jump the equivalent of ten stories and hope you survive, or..." he trailed off, letting his wings erupt from his spine and stretch out, fighting down a smug smirk at the look of wonder on her face.

He remained quiet, trying not to preen as she inspected him with wide, curious eyes. She hesitantly reached out to touch a wing, apparently having forgotten that she hated him in favor of feeling out what he felt like under her hands.

He didn't mind. The confirmation of her interest, however small and potentially reluctant, was gratifying. He'd been lost in her touch too much though, and the light brush of her delicate fingers against the sensitive scales wrapped around bones made an involuntary rumble sound low in his throat. She was brought back to reality immediately, her hand jerking back. "Did you just purr?"

"No. Dragons aren't the least bit feline," he said firmly, immediately realizing it had been the wrong thing to say when a slow smirk stretched across her face. It was jarring that he didn't even know her name but she could read him easily, and he was uncomfortable enough that he felt he had to break the moment.

Without waiting for her response, he pulled her close in his arms and jumped, wincing as she screamed in his ear. He beat his wings lightly just before they landed to make sure it was gentle enough that it wouldn't hurt her.

"Seriously? You couldn't warn me?" she screeched as soon as they touched down, squirming out of his arms.

"My apologies, sweetheart. I thought you wanted to go home as soon as possible," he said, his quirked eyebrow a challenge for her to argue. She looked tempted but seemed to decide that her priority was to leave instead, huffing and turning on her heel to stomp off to the staircase on the other end of the hallway. He took a moment to admire her form as she walked away. He'd seen her in his dreams many a time, of course, had felt her long legs wrapped around his waist, gripped her pretty arse in his hands as he took her from behind, but seeing her curves framed by thin silk and lace in person was much better.

"I still think you're playing dumb about the whole me appearing here thing, so just to cover my bases, I don't like kidnapping. It's rude," she said once he caught up with her, breaking the silence.

"I assure you I did not do anything of the sort. You simply appeared," he said lightly, ignoring her disbelieving glance and huff of annoyance.

He had no doubt that she wouldn't make it easy to win her over, especially since she seemed like the stubborn type. It wasn't a rare trait by any means, and one he was unsurprised to find in his mate, but it certainly made convincing her to stay more difficult.

And infinitely more entertaining.

He noticed her looking at him out of the corner of her eye as he led her down the staircase, his hand pressed to the small of her back, and he couldn't help but watch her face as he opened the heavy front door to expose the seemingly endless hills, the light dusting of snow on the ground barely visible in the darkness.

"Where am I, exactly?" she asked slowly.

"My castle in what's currently called Switzerland. I have eighteen, but this is the one with my most...valuable treasures."

"Holy shit," she breathed, her eyes widening. "Seriously?"

"Indeed. Do you still want me to call you a cab?" he asked dryly.

It seemed to shake her out of her trance. "Umm..."

"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to stay until morning?" he suggested smoothly, resisting the urge to slide his arm fully around her waist lest she believe he was propositioning her, closing the door and pulling back to face her instead. It was too soon to be so forward, considering the first impression he'd made. Best to pique her interest and leave her conflicted and wanting more. "I have comfortable quarters for guests. In the morning I'd be happy to arrange transportation for you to return to..." he trailed off expectantly.

"New Orleans," she said reluctantly.

"Ah. I see," he said, having expected her to be that far away, already trying to decide whether being exhausted from such a long flight would be worth her clinging to him for hours, her body warm against his scales. Probably. He'd have to lend her some clothes, of course. The skies were cold, especially for humans, but he did enjoy the idea of her wrapped in his scent. From the way she was eyeing him however, he had a feeling his offer would be vetoed instantly.

"I'm Caroline, by the way," she said, breaking through his inner thoughts.

"Caroline," he said slowly, testing the name on his tongue.

"Yeah. That's it. What's yours?"

"Klaus."

He raised his eyebrows as a bright red flush crept up her cheeks, her eyes widening. "Oh," she squeaked.

"All right, love?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, and he didn't miss the flash of lust in her eyes, the way she stiffened. Was it possible that she hadn't figured out who he was until this moment?

"Yep," she said quickly, swallowing. "Totally fine. I'm tired. Where's the guest room?"

"Right this way, love."

XXX

Caroline stared at her ceiling, trying to fight down the mortification that still lingered two weeks after Klaus had dropped her off at the airport, cursing herself for what felt like the millionth time for being such an easy blusher. He luckily hadn't commented on her clear surprise-slash-hope that the floor would swallow her at hearing his name, but she knew he'd noticed. She wasn't good at keeping secrets anyway, and this one wasn't exactly something she wanted to fess up to. Hopefully her weird teleportation was a one-time thing and she'd never have to see him again.

Other than in her dreams, that is.

Before being teleported across the planet during her first self-indulgent afternoon nap in months, she had figured that her imagination was bored with fantasies about frat boys with fumbly fingers and too much confidence and therefore conjured up a sexier fantasy man. She'd been having those dreams about the mystery lover for months now. They were usually explicit, the faceless stranger whispering the filthiest things in her ear and touching her until she was shaking. Occasionally they were simpler, more along the lines of snuggling against a warm, angled chest, stubble brushing against her skin as he pressed his lips to her shoulder. No matter what they were, she always woke up wanting more.

He had an accent and long artist fingers, strong arms that wrapped perfectly around her holding her close. She'd occasionally seen the flash of blue eyes, had felt the brush of stubble against her neck so viscerally that it almost felt real, but she'd never gotten a good look at his face.

It had been even weirder when she'd moaned his name for the first time, but she'd attributed it to a romance novel she'd read where the hero was named Klaus. Just a subconscious thing. Nothing magical about it.

But now...

She'd thought the dragon's voice sounded familiar when he first spoke, but had been too thrown off by his bad attitude to think about it too much, too busy being irritated with his arrogance. The rude interruption of a really nice dream that edged on the filthier side hadn't exactly helped her mood. Once he'd said his name though, everything had clicked into place at the worst possible time.

The realization that the man she was looking in the eye was the same one that she'd been dreaming about just an hour before was bad, but the fact that said dream had been a decidedly NC-17 rated roleplay that involved being forbidden to come around a toy in her pussy while she had his cock in her mouth made it infinitely worse.

He'd given her a smile that was all teeth when he'd escorted her to the private jet to send her back and had told her she was welcome anytime. His tone had been infuriatingly teasing, and she'd glared at him as she marched up the steps, wrapped in a sweater that smelled like him that was bulky enough to hide her lack of bra and jeans in her size that he'd somehow produced by the time she woke in the morning.

Once she was back her dreams had continued. They were even more vivid now that she knew his face. She was mad at herself for having them, even more furious that she looked forward to having them. She'd eventually went to a party to hook up with a random guy and then had to cover up her automatic moan of 'Klaus' with a light cough, burying her face in the guy's shoulder and finding herself already missing the oddly enticing scent of charcoal that had lingered on her skin for days after she'd returned.

Her quick one-nighter with not-Klaus had ultimately been unsatisfying despite him actually managing to make her come. After that, she'd stayed up as long as she could, reluctant to go back to sleep and face that she loved the way Klaus spoke to her in her dreams, but she was only human and she couldn't study for her first ever college midterms half-dead.

After a few nights where there had been no teleportation, she figured it was a one-time thing. Now that her midterms were over, she deserved an afternoon nap, she decided. She pulled on Klaus's sweater, which she'd taken to sleeping in despite her better judgment (he'd never know, after all, plus her dorm heater was broken and it was freezing) and kicked off her jeans, falling back on her bed and pulling the covers tightly around her.

She was so tired...and she felt herself drift off as soon as she got comfortable...

"You're so beautiful like this, love. Bent over for me with your pretty arse in the air...all mine for the taking."

Caroline moaned softly as long fingers brushed against her wet center, shifting against his fingertips to try to find friction. She was pulling at the ropes that bound her wrists to the sturdy headboard, her cheek pressed against a soft pillow as Klaus stroked her pussy just shy of her clit.

"Please," she breathed, arching her back in invitation, and he chuckled, the low rumble making her shiver.

"Patience, love. Good girls get rewards," he said, and she felt the shift in the mattress as he moved forward to press a kiss to her shoulderblade, his hard cock pressing against the back of her thigh. "Beg as much as you like, of course, I do enjoy the way you moan my name, but I want your hips still with your legs spread for me. Wide."

"Okay."

It was hard not to grind back against his fingers, her entire body quivering with anticipation as he stroked her entrance, his touches infuriatingly and frustratingly gentle. He knew how to build her up, and he was doing it in the most torturous way possible. She gasped out his name as he brushed against her clit, curling her toes and trying to focus on not grinding back against him despite his distracting murmurs of praise about how well she was doing.

He hadn't specified what the rewards would be, but even back when his identity had been a mystery, he'd always made her exercises in restraint worth it.

She tried to remember this as she felt stubble against her thigh. "Oh my god," she breathed, clenching her eyes shut as his tongue traced her opening, the scrape of teeth against skin nearly making her come just from the contrast of sensation. He seemed to notice, pressing soft kisses against the scrape and avoiding the area she was most sensitive.

"Klaus, please..."

"Please what, sweetheart?"

"Touch me. Make me come."

"I will," he promised with another open-mouthed kiss close enough to her pussy that she had to concentrate hard on not squirming to get his touch where she wanted it. "But not yet. I enjoy exploring your body, my mate. I love your taste and the feel of your skin beneath my fingers. Indulge me. Be good for me and I'll make it worth your patience."

"I know," she breathed. "But I want..." she took a sharp breath as Klaus interrupted her with his fingers sliding into her, hooking against her walls just the way she liked it. Every part of her wanted to grind against him, but she was careful not to, her breathing growing ragged as he found her g-spot. "Oh my god."

"That's it, sweetheart. Keep still like I told you. You're doing so well."

She moaned as he pulled his fingers out, whining out his name at the loss of sensation, and bit her lip hard enough to draw blood when he laughed quietly, a sound that promised all sorts of sinful things if she just held on.

She felt his chest warm against her back as he moved forward, lifting her head off the pillow when she saw his fingers hovering in front of her. "Suck," he ordered, his fingertips brushing against her mouth, leaving her arousal clinging to her lips.

She opened her mouth to take him in, humming softly at the taste of herself, tipping her head to the side as an invitation when he started nipping at her neck. The headboard creaked as she pulled on her restraints, instinctively needing to reach back and keep his lips on her skin, and he pulled away immediately, sliding his fingers out of her mouth as well and settling behind her again.

"Klaus, please," she breathed, looking over her shoulder at him. Her breath caught at way his eyes flashed gold and the glint of fang when he smiled.

"Tell me what you want."

"I want your cock in me. Please," she confessed, the words falling off her tongue with an unintended note of desperation that made her flush. He didn't seem bothered by her need for him, his lips pulling wide over his teeth, and she could see his cock, hard and leaking precum.

"Arch your back, face down," he ordered, his tone smooth and low, and she obeyed, heady anticipation flooding through every inch of her.

She felt his fingers tangle in her hair and tug lightly as his cock pressed hard and hot against her thigh, his body heat and scent cloaking her as his body pressed against hers.

"Sweetheart."

Caroline moaned softly at the touch of a calloused palm to her bare shoulder, opening her eyes blearily to see Klaus staring down at her. Whenever they wandered off the path of their push and pull into something new or particularly intense, dream-aftercare tended to follow. He was always tender, light brushes of fingers against her skin and whispered praises making her heartbeat slow and her breathing even. She almost loved those little moments more than the sex, his body wrapped around hers always comforting and making her feel safe. The dream had never skipped forward like this, though. She hadn't even come. Still, his fingers running through her hair felt nice.

"Klaus...That feels good. Keep doing it," she breathed, her eyes fluttering, and she saw his lips quirk into an amused smile.

"As much as I'd like to, and I would very much like to, I think you'd attempt to throttle me the moment you realized you weren't dreaming."

Her eyes went wide, and she sat up so quickly she heard something crack, becoming aware very quickly of the cold stone under her bare thighs and the glint of gold in her peripheral vision. "What?"

"I could be mistaken, sweetheart, and I don't want to be presumptuous—" she snorted glaring past his shoulder at the wall. "—but is it a correct assumption that you were dreaming of me?"

She could feel her cheeks heating, but she shook her head, preparing to spit out something venomous to pretend the flush was from anger, but he cupped her face gently, encouraging her to look at him. "It's all right, love. I was too."

"That makes one of us," she lied with narrowed eyes, her cheeks burning. He chuckled, the brush of his thumb along the column of her neck sending shivers down her spine.

"And I suspect, whether you'll admit it or not, you were having a very specific dream about me. One that involved you on your knees with your pretty wrists tied to my bedposts begging for more as I fucked you from behind." She took a sharp breath and he grinned. "A reward for good behavior, if I'm remembering correctly."

She swallowed, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right. She was so curious, though, desperately wanted to know why she was having these dreams. This whole soulmate thing was nonsense, but she knew magic existed. Her friend Bonnie was a witch, after all. She had no idea why he'd picked her of all people to curse with sex dreams-it seemed so random-but she wanted to know why. "Are you giving me these dreams?" she asked. "Like, are these your fantasies?"

"No," he said softly, smiling as she opened her mouth to argue. "I'm quite sure they're yours."

"Excuse me?" she spluttered, jerking back from his hand. "Then how do you know what I'm dreaming about?"

"So you admit it?"

She gritted her teeth, turning away, and she heard him chuckle softly.

"Fate has paired us. We're made for each other in every way."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're my mate, sweetheart. I've told you as much. When we sleep at the same time, we share dreams."

She huffed. "Assuming you're not lying through your sharp, princess-munching teeth-"

"I'm not, and I don't eat princesses, or people in general. Unless you're-"

"Shut up. Seriously. Anyway, assuming you're right, why do I teleport all the way across the world?"

"You give yourself to me, and my magic puts you where I keep my most precious treasures."

"That's so creepy," she muttered. "Like, really. How am I supposed to sleep when you'll just have to send me on a 19 hour flight every time I take a nap."

"So you believe me then?"

"What? No!" she said much too quickly.

His smile was all teeth, predatory and greedy in all the best ways, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest from anticipation. She kind of hated that she wanted him so much, that she craved him and the sinful things he did to her body. But only kind of.

"I have a castle near New Orleans, actually," he said conversationally, and she took in a sharp breath. "It's hidden by magic. I could relocate there for the time being so that you're naps would be less inconvenient for you."

"Oh, so the solution is to make it easier for you to bother me?" she asked, ignoring the tiny voice in her head saying that it would definitely be logistically more practical.

"Not at all," he murmured, bending close enough that their lips were almost touching, and she couldn't find it in herself to pull away, too curious about what he tasted like. "Let me be clear, I have many things I want to do you Caroline. The fantasies I'll tempt you to beg me to fulfill are so salacious that I have no doubt you've never even dreamed of them. I almost can't wait, my mate, but for you, I will."

"Wait? What do you mean? Wait for what?" she asked, hating how breathless her voice was and kicking herself at the look at his face for forgetting to deny that they had that connection, that she was starting to believe that he might be telling the truth. He reached to tug at the hem of the sweater he'd lent her, nosing her cheekbone before nipping her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

"For you to finally admit that you're mine. That you belong to me."

Hope you enjoyed it! Did you feel like it was in-character? Did you like the dialogue? Like the smut? Any favorite parts or lines? Please let me know your thoughts. Feedback is how I get inspiration and become a better writer.