[She squirms against his grip, but faces him with a defiant grin all the same. Perhaps she should be afraid, but she isn't. She needs to feel something to feel fear, and even then, she's almost certain he won't take his violent impulses to the extent he would need to to actually break her.

And if he did? She knows he'd be living with that guilt for a very long time.]

I never asked you to be there in the first place. You're practically stalking me. Maybe I just wanted you to leave.

[And that may have been part of it, but she feels vindication either way. Inconvenienced is a good word for how she feels about all this, though she's sure it cuts him far deeper than it does her.

Being unceremoniously dropped on a bed isn't exactly her idea of a good time, though. Not unless he's going to, you know, actually do something about it. She pushes herself up onto her elbows provocatively, not even bothering to adjust her dress, which is no doubt hanging rather astray from being jostled.]

You're the biggest hypocrite I've ever met. You don't actually care if someone drained that guy dry or screwed him senseless. You just don't want it to be me. You want to think I only did it because you were watching. Well, news flash Klaus, I'd be doing the same damn things whether you're there or not because I want to and it's fun. Just because you fathered some miracle baby after screwing the werewolf slut that got between me and my ex and had some sort of come to jesus moment doesn't make you a good person. You're not saving me. You just can't stand the thought that I might do something as sick and depraved as you.