Needing Him

By TR

He'd awakened to the sound of her cries. The wet stream of tears falling against his chest as she curled on her side huddled against him, and he knew it would be one of those nights. She struggled, clawing her way out of yet another nightmare. He stroked her hair and whispered to her.

"I'm right here Baby, it's all going to be okay. You're safe here with me." He knew that fear for her safety wasn't what was plaguing her, but he reassured her just the same. She wept for those she'd lost. Who'd been ripped away from her far too soon. Who'd been murdered in the line of duty, in the pursuit of justice. Every time she went through this he'd vow to himself to be, or do, or say anything she needed to relieve her pain.

The first time it happened it scared him senseless. It was only the second time they'd slept together, wrapped up and dead to world. She'd lain draped over him like so much silk, soft, toned, powerful silk. And he felt vulnerable and fierce and protective. He lay in awe of her, even in sleep. His arms wrapped around her melding her skin, her shape against his. Not yet recognizing the rising wave of what was to come, he'd felt her stir, snuggle in closer, she'd said something unintelligible, later he would realize it was a name. Now he knew that every time this happened a name would fall from her lips. But the first time he was oblivious to anything but her sudden cry as she tensed and reared up. Blindly she fought against him, breaking free of his protective hold.

"Kate!" Shock had him gasping out her name as he released her, giving her the freedom she struggled for. He expected her to fight him, to thrash and kick and be poised for battle, but she didn't. As suddenly as she'd reared up and broke free she collapsed back down onto his chest. And then the tears came. He'd not known what to do… until she took the reins.

Now he knew what she wanted, what she would take from him. What he needed to do.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he turned to his back. One hand reached for her breast as the other slid into his boxers. The softness in one hand slowly gave way to hardness in the other as he stroked them both in unison. He worked their bodies, pushing the sleep from bones, muscles, nerves. He suppressed a groan as he rapidly fisted himself to full salute. Rolling her nipple just the way she liked, he knew they'd both be ready. He felt her awaken and braced himself as she tensed, her hands clawing at his sides while the last of the nightmare faded, leaving only its scars behind.

And then she was on top of him. Kissing his sleep dry lips, her tongue delving deep, giving him the flavor of her fear, her sorrow. Her kisses were bruising, desperate. He caught her lower lip in his teeth knowing what it would do to her. On a growl she pushed at his chest and sat up. She raked her fingernails down his body stopping only to flick the pad of her thumbs over his nipples before she continued, marking him from his shoulders to his hips. Her eyes glittered in the moon light, still sheened with tears. She didn't look away when she reached his boxers, felt his body straining against the material. In one deft move she reached between the tiny buttons and ripped them in two. Surging forward she caught his hands in hers pinning them to the bed. She teased him with her breasts against his face. Trailing her nipples back and forth. Raising up just in time to resist when he tried to capture one and suck it into his mouth.

Castle groaned, frustration adding another layer of tension. Then he raised his head and caught her breast. He took it in sucking hard, rapidly flicking his tongue against her nipple. She gasped, and pulling her hands from his, gripped his hips. She didn't linger, didn't give him her breathless smile as she always did when they made love. This was love, nothing but love, but the battle they fought together, against her demons, her fears, her memories, made it more than love. This was war. He watched as another tear spilled down her cheek, before she closed her eyes tight and impaled herself upon him. She clung to him, clawing, gripping, cleaving to his flesh as she rapidly worked them both into a hard and fast oblivion.

He put his hands all over her. Around her back, over her breasts, down to her hips and back up again. His touch firm and rough and oh so different from the tender hands that worshipped her in the light of day. The scent of her skin reached him, that signature scent that was only hers. It made his insides feel all the more like sharp shards of pleasure pushing their way to the surface. He tamped it down, waiting for her. That sound, that low guttural sound coming from her throat told him she was almost there. He reached between them, the pad of his thumb finding that hard and erect bundle of nerves. He pressed hard moving it in circles, matching her rhythm. Every muscle in her body tensed, and readied, her breath caught and then she was rearing back as she screamed in pleasure, in grief, in victory. Her body bucked and shuddered and crashed into him as her orgasm ripped through her. Her muscles clenching around him in almost painful intensity. His ears rang, his lungs seized, as his world tipped on its axis and he roared his release, spilling himself deep inside her.

She collapsed on top of him. Their sweat soaked bodies cooling beneath the fan. He stroked her skin and knew that tomorrow she would want to apologize. Tomorrow she would want to forget this ever happened. Forget the nightmare, forget the tears, forget the way they'd beat the demons back into that horrible corner of her mind where she kept them imprisoned. Tomorrow was hours away. For now he would hold her.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice was raw.

He kissed her forehead. "Always."

The End. Good? Bad? Rancid dying cat breath? Let me know!