Because we all know that now Castle and Beckett are a couple, they will spend most of their time having awesome sex and awesome conversation and basically being awesome together.
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Castle woke up alone, squinting against the morning light pouring through the blinds. He stretched and rolled over, extending his arm across the cool, empty sheets. Kate. She'd become a master at slipping out of bed without waking him.
He rolled off the mattress and headed out of the bedroom, rubbing a hand down his face, blinking rapidly to wake himself up. He smelled the coffee before he left his study. The grin was already wide on his face when he found her in the kitchen—like he knew he would.
She was standing in front of the coffee maker in one of his old t-shirts. Her hair was long and unkempt, tumbling around her shoulders in waves. Her legs were bare and smooth and about a hundred miles long. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen and he was so in love with her and she was his.
That part never got old.
He walked up behind her just as she finished filling up two mugs with the steaming, fragrant liquid. He wrapped his arms around her waist. Pressed his nose into her hair. "Morning," he murmured, his voice low and hoarse with sleep.
"Morning," she returned, leaning back against him, sighing when he slipped a hand under her shirt, splayed his fingers across her stomach, his palm warm and large against her soft skin.
He kissed her neck and the sensitive spot just behind her ear. "You taste like coffee," he murmured.
She huffed out a laugh, reaching up to coil an arm around his neck. Turned her head to the side and caught his lips in a shallow kiss.
"Does that turn you on, Castle?" she asked throatily, only half-kidding. The guy was really into coffee, and besides, it was their thing.
She half-sighed, half-moaned against his mouth as he parted her lips with his tongue and delved deep. She tried to turn to face him, craving the broad press of his chest against hers, the way his large frame could envelop her body, but he had her trapped against the counter and seemed to be intent on keeping her there.
"Castle," she breathed, squirming in his arms.
He only smiled and dipped his hand lower, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her underwear. Her lips parted on a choked gasp, her body arching at the sudden press of his thumb against her clit, the slide of his fingers through her wet heat.
She let out a low moan, clutching at the counter as her knees went weak beneath her. He tightened his grasp around her, one hand splayed across her stomach to keep her in place, the other still occupied below.
He began to circle his thumb against her slowly, fingers dragging up and around. She sagged against him, her head falling back against his shoulder, hips moving in time with his fingers, lifting, rolling, seeking that extra pressure that would send her over the edge.
He bowed his head forward, kissed her temple, watched the way she bit her lip to keep from crying out. So beautiful.
"Castle," she breathed, her voice all husk and sex. She was so close.
He kissed her neck, sucking at her pulse point. Dipped his fingers into her, but only shallowly, making her curse and shudder in his arms. Then he turned her. Pressed her back against the counter. Wedged a knee between her legs.
"Ahh," she practically sobbed at the sudden pressure and friction. She pressed her face into his neck, rocking against his thigh with sharp, needy thrusts.
She was so on edge that it didn't take long before she was tensing in his arms, her back bowing, her lips parting on a silent cry. She kissed him as she came apart, her mouth warm and wet and desperate against his, her fingers curling around his t-shirt, hard enough to wrinkle the fabric.
He kept his arms around her waist as she relaxed against him, melting into his body, her face pressed into the crook of his neck.
He kissed her forehead gently. Ran his hands up and down her back, fingers tracing the line of her spine. "Would you judge me if I told you I used to fantasize about this?"
"Yes," she mumbled against his skin. She lifted her head and nipped slightly at the underside of his jaw. "You love coffee too much."
"It's not about the coffee," he said, his eyes suddenly dark, and oh, okay he was actually being serious.
She lifted onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. "What's it about?" she asked.
"Just you being here," he confessed softly. "Making coffee. Standing in my kitchen like it's the most natural thing in the world."
"And also having sex with you next to your coffee maker. Wearing your shirt."
"That to," he admitted, smiling down at her.
He tightened his arms around her, lifting her against his body, burying his face in the soft waves of her hair. "Wanna know what I fantasized about?"
His head jerked back at the question, his eyes wide. "You-you fantasized about me? About us?"
She rolled her eyes. "Of course I did. I was in love with you," she said like it was the most normal thing in the world and his breath caught because even though they were here and they were doing this and she'd told him hundreds of times already it still astounded him how lucky he was.
She loved him. Was in love with him. This was real.
"What did you fantasize about, Beckett?" he asked, pressing a sloppy, grateful kiss to her mouth.
She bit her lip, suddenly uncertain. "Let me show you," she finally offered, taking his hand.
She led him back into his study and over to his desk, pushing him down into his chair. He looked up at her and grinned. Couldn't help it. "Here?" he said.
She nodded. Lifted her knee and pressed it into the chair beside his thigh. "Here," she breathed against his parted lips.
He brought his hands to her waist, lifting her the rest of the way onto his lap. She sat back against his thighs, fingers trailing lightly down his chest. "Where I write?" he asked.
"Where you write about me," she whispered, something fierce and possessive in her voice.
He swallowed hard, beyond turned on at this point, because she just came in his arms not two minutes ago and now here she was admitting that his books made her hot, that him writing them made her hot.
She slipped forward on his lap, sinking her hips into his, moaning softly at the pressure of him between her thighs. "God, Castle," she sighed into his mouth, practically whimpering at the feel of him, hot and hard and ready against her.
She rolled her hips down into his, crying out because it felt so good and she didn't ever want to stop. He let her move above him, against him, guiding her hips with his hands until he felt her pick up the pace, back bowing, lips parting on a wordless cry.
He gripped the hem of her shirt and swept it up and over her head, groaning appreciatively when he found her bare underneath. He pressed his lips to the edge of one breast, cupping the other in his palm, weighing the flesh, heavy with want, in his hand. She shuddered against him, moaning darkly, fingers shooting up to tangle in his hair.
It didn't take long after that as he pulled her nipple into his mouth, sucking just hard enough to make her gasp. Her hips jerked against his one last time before her body softened in his arms, trembling against him.
He kissed the angle of her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, slightly salty with sweat, her neck and jaw and finally her lips.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, kissing her deeply as the last tremors shook her body, knees clenching instinctively around his hips.
"You still have way too many clothes on," she murmured, slipping her hands under his t-shirt and lifting it over his head.
She rested her palms against his chest, humming appreciatively at the smooth, firm expanse of muscle. She pressed herself against him, shivering when her sensitive nipples rubbed against his hot skin. He kissed her softly, completely entranced by her, and let out a startled gasp when she snuck a hand between their bodies and freed him from his boxers.
"You're turn, Castle," she told him, lifting herself and pushing aside her skimpy panties before lowering herself onto him.
She swallowed his groan against her lips, lifting her hips again before sinking down all the way, feeling him fill her, the delicious stretch between her thighs. She rocked against him, slowly, deliberately, watching the way his eyes darkened and glazed over.
"Kate, I'm—I'm gonna—"
She silenced him with a firm kiss. "It's okay," she told him.
"But you're…I want you with me."
"I'm there, Castle," she said and she was. The feel of him inside her, the pressure against her overly sensitized flesh had worked her up quickly and she was already teetering on the edge again.
He nodded and closed his eyes, drawing her close against his body. She moved against him, her thrusts getting hard and sloppy the closer she got. He broke apart first, her name rough and reverent on his lips. She kissed him, kept moving, panting against his lips and came a second later with a sharp cry.
He leaned back against the chair and she slumped against him, chest heaving, heart rate soaring. "Nice fantasy," he acknowledged breathlessly.
She laughed softly, kissing his shoulder and neck, anything she could get to without moving too much. "Glad you enjoyed it, Castle," she told him. "Any other dreams of yours I can help come true?"
He was quiet for a moment, thinking. "You know that thing you do with ice cubes?" She nodded, leaning back to meet his eye. "Show me?"
His voice was light, his eyes bright, his face almost boyish in his curiosity and love for her. She smiled and slid off his lap, steadying herself with a hand on his desk, because she was still feeling a little wobbly and boneless after what they just did.
"Meet me in the bedroom in two minutes," she instructed him, before spinning on her heel and heading back into the kitchen.
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Hope you enjoyed! Reviews are amazing and wonderful as always. :)