ANTICIPATION
2X05 AU
All of this silence and patience
Pining and desperately waiting
My hands are shaking from all this
Say my name and everything just stops
Dress - Taylor Swift
This is why she bought the dress. Why she spent an ungodly amount of money on something she may never wear again. Not to make a good first impression at a Nikki Heat book release, although she does know how amazing she looks. She didn't dress up for the cameras, or the fans, or the reporters shouting her name. She didn't even dress up for herself.
No, she bought it for the man who stopped breathing as soon as he saw her.
She notices him out of the corner of her eye, sees his mouth stop moving mid-sentence, maybe even mid-word. She doesn't acknowledge him, doesn't even look his way. But he looks great too, his hair slicked back, eyes following her as if she's the only person in the room.
Her breath catches when she reads the dedication, but before she can put the book down he's in front of her, plucking it out of her hands, a maddingly attractive crooked smile on his face.
He calls her extraordinary, not for the first time in their short partnership. But it's the first time he's said so with that tone, something close to adoration in his gaze. It has her smiling, her eyes locked on his.
"You know, I've been thinking," he says after a lull, his voice low, taking a step closer to her.
She shifts to face him head on, hopes her body language conveys what she can't seem to put into words. That she wants to leave with him, to give into the desire that's been bubbling under the surface for months. She has no idea whether anything more could happen between them, especially with him potentially going to London, leaving Nikki Heat behind. But she's willing to do something.
He moves even closer, and she's almost overwhelmed by his proximity, his subtle cologne, the hint of a five o'clock shadow on his jaw. "I have to rub some elbows. But when I'm done, you wanna get out of here? Get a drink?"
She smirks. Bingo. "I'd love to."
"Great." His smile widens and he offers her his elbow. "Come on, lots of people here want to meet you."
She looks amazing.
It isn't a surprise, of course, since she's one of the most beautiful women he's ever seen. But the way her hair frames her face, accentuating those model cheekbones, the dress hugging her curves, legs that seem to go for miles, she looks like an angel. She's perfect.
He ignores the whispers as they leave, her hand tucked in the crook of his elbow, body leaning into his ever so slightly. She slides into his limo first, and he manages to tear his eyes from her legs long enough to follow.
"Where to, Mr. Castle?"
"43 Third Street."
She answers for him, an address he recognizes as her own, and he just stares at her, eyebrows raised.
"Did you really want to get a drink?" she asks, her hand reaching across the seat to find his. She scoots closer and leans into him, cranes her neck to speak directly into his ear. "Let's just skip that part entirely."
A shudder travels down his spine and he turns his head to find her face just inches from his. He can't resist her, the siren call of her mouth, her entire body. He leans forward, his eyes drifting shut, but before his lips touch hers, he feels one long, slender finger against them.
"Not yet," she husks, the arousal in her voice and eyes betraying her words. "Not here."
He shifts to face her, his free hand curling around her knee. "Why not?" he asks, dropping his gaze back to her mouth. "Afraid you won't be able to stop?"
The corner of her mouth quirks. "Oh, I could stop." She leans in close, so close he can almost feel her lips touching his when she speaks. "But you won't be able to."
He growls and lunges forward, his mouth meeting hers, fingers burying in her hair. Her teeth sink into his bottom lip, tongue darting to soothe the sting, and he moans when she slides her leg over his.
"Kate," he gasps when she pulls away, but she just stares at him before kissing him again.
Before he knows it she's straddling a thigh, her fingers at his top button, mouth drifting along his jaw. His fingers dig into her hips when she nips at his pulse, and she pulls away for just a moment, lips swollen, hair mussed, eyes dark. His eyes drop to her legs, the long, slender limbs that drive him wild. As much as he loves her legs, he wants to see more of her, wants to peel her dress off inch by inch. And that's not going to happen in this car.
She kisses him again, slower this time, her hips rolling against his thigh, tongue curling around his. When her lips slide down his jaw once again he finally manages a gasp of "Wait," and her fingers still at his collar. "Not here," he insists, his voice steady despite his erection pressing against his slacks.
She chuckles as she leans back to stare at him. "No?" she teases, one hand slipping between their bodies to brush against him. She laughs again when his hips jerk into her hand. "I don't think this agrees." She cups him and squeezes, drops her other hand to his belt.
"Oh fuck," he moans when her fingers slip inside his pants and curl around his length, her touch light, teasing, and she smiles when another curse falls from his mouth.
Her lips brush the shell of his ear. "Told you so," she whispers, teeth nipping at his earlobe, fingers tightening around him, hips rolling against his thigh.
He slips his fingers below the hem of her dress, intending to encourage her to lift her hips and sink onto him, but his breath catches when he encounters nothing but her arousal on his fingers. He recovers quickly, smirking at the way her eyes flutter shut as he prods her folds. "Why, Detective Beckett," he teases in a low voice, "had I known you weren't wearing any underwear, I would have left that party a lot sooner."
The limo slows to a stop before they can go any farther, and as tempted as he is to tell the driver to just keep going, he doesn't want their first time to be a quick fuck in the back of a car. No, he wants to take his time with her.
She seems to have the same idea, climbing off his lap and adjusting her dress. He tucks himself back inside his pants, taking great care as he fastens them, and he prays to whomever's listening that no photographers are there to capture that he has a raging erection pressing against the front of his pants.
Somehow they manage to get inside her apartment fully clothed, but he doesn't even have the chance to take in her place before she's shoving him against her closed door and tugging his jacket off his shoulders.
He groans when she drops to her knees, pushing his pants and boxers down his thighs.
His fingers curl into fists at the first touch of her lips against him; he's shaking with the effort to avoid burying his hands in her hair and just fuck her face.
Her own fingers grip his hips, and she hums around the head of his cock, her tongue stroking, and he knows he won't last, not if she keeps moving her lips and tongue like that.
A loud curse falls from his lips and she chuckles, a low, throaty laugh that has his head falling back against the door. "Kate," he groans, one hand relenting and cupping the back of her head. "You have to - fuck - I'm gonna-"
She lifts her eyes to his, the fire in her dark pupils betraying the casual way she takes him even farther into her mouth. His cock hits the back of her throat and he starts to pull out, but she grunts, keeps her mouth around him. She strokes his base, twisting slightly and he can't hold back anymore, doesn't even have the presence of mind to warn her before he comes with a shout.
She can't help but smile at the look of utter bliss on his face. He's slow to recover, slumped against her front door, eyes shut, chest heaving. His hands find her head again, but instead of pulling her towards him, he nudges her up, and she follows his prodding to stand.
"Come here," he mutters, his eyes open, and his lips part in a smile just as their mouths meet. The kiss is slow, languid, his tongue casually stroking against hers.
She's so distracted by the work of his mouth that she doesn't even feel his hands move until he's grabbing her thighs. She yelps as he lifts her into his arms, but her laugh quickly turns into a moan when one hand sneaks between her legs.
"So wet," he rumbles, fingers slicking through her folds, teasing her even as he moves through her living room. "Bedroom?"
She jerks her head behind her. "That way. Last door." She can't help but moan when he slips the tip of his finger inside her, and she digs her fingers in his hair, nips his neck in retaliation. "Don't drop me," she teases, and his brow lifts.
"You don't need to worry about that," he says, finally finding the right room and dropping her to the bed.
She squirms to the head of her mattress, throwing pillows and the duvet to the floor as she goes. He follows her on his hands and knees, his gaze dark, mysterious. "Oh? Is there anything I should be worried about?"
His hands slide beneath her dress once more, only this time he takes the material with him as he lifts the hem. He nudges her legs and she spreads them willingly once the dress is at her hips, but she doesn't want any barriers between them. She wants to be naked. Now.
"Off, Castle," she moans, her fingers at the clasp behind her neck. "Get it off." She lets out a triumphant a-ha when it comes undone, but before she can remove it Castle's hands are on hers, trapping them to the bed.
She gasps, but her body cants towards his, legs twining around his waist, hips lifting into his. His erection brushes against her core, and she can't stop a whimper from escaping. She shifts her hips, silently begging him to slide in, to just fuck her mercilessly. "Please," she whispers, her fingers clenching around his.
He dips his head to kiss her, his tongue swiping against hers briefly before trailing his mouth along her neck, to her collarbone, the top of her breasts. His hands release hers when his mouth closes around a nipple through the material of her dress, and she takes advantage immediately, threads her fingers through his hair. He cups her other breast in one large hand, kneading, thumb pinching her nipple.
She groans at the sensation, the fabric rubbing against her sensitive skin, the expert work of his fingers. She's embarrassingly close to coming, despite his minimal touch to her core, but she manages to hold off her climax. She lets go of his head and draws the dress down her chest, smirks at his glare when he has to release her breast.
His eyes darken as they focus on her bare chest, and he reaches out, traces along the soft mounds, brushes against her nipples before gathering the material of her dress and tugging it over her head. He sits on his haunches for several long moments, just staring at her, silent until she squirms under the intensity of his gaze. "You're beautiful," he husks, his hands drifting up her thighs, stopping maddingly close to her core.
Her hips lift, and she grins at the way his eyes darken and drop to her pelvis. She reaches out to tug at his shirt. "Why is this still on?" She sits up, fully intending to finish undressing him, but he pushes her back down, tugs his own shirt over his head.
She can't help but stare at him: his erection is impressive, has her mouth watering, but his whole body is so much more than she'd expected from someone who essentially sits at a desk for a living. Her hands trace the well-defined edges of his chest, trail down his flat front to brush through the dark hair leading to his cock. Her eyes lift to his when she wraps her fingers around him again, and he closes his eyes for the briefest moment before he takes her wrist in his hand.
"Wait, Kate, stop," he says, stilling her movements. She just lifts a brow in encouragement. "Protection?"
She smirks and rolls to her side, reaches towards her nightstand. She shivers at the light touch of his hands on her thighs, but manages to open the nightstand drawer and extract a box with steady hands. "I stocked up."
Castle smirks. "Extra large, huh? I appreciate the ego boost, Detective."
She just shrugs. He doesn't need to know that she called in a favor to acquire the uncensored pictures from his naked horseback riding incident after their initial meeting, or that she now owes the same person a bigger favor for keeping it quiet. He also doesn't need to know that she has a copy of the clearest one in the back of her lingerie drawer...or, for that matter, that she's fantasized about him on several occasions, usually with her fingers or vibrator between her legs.
She doesn't even notice that he's sheathed himself until he's nudging against her entrance, and she lifts her hips in encouragement.
"You're sure about this?" he asks, leaning onto his elbows above her.
She grips the back of his neck and pulls him down for a kiss, tries to pour her desire into the stroke of her tongue. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't," she tells him when they part. Her hands drift to his shoulders and she squeezes, wraps her legs high around his waist. "God, Castle, please."
He grunts when she digs her fingers into his skin, lines himself up, and drives into her with a long moan.
She feels incredible.
Her hands are everywhere as he drives into her: his waist, in his hair, scraping along his back. He's sure he'll have marks from her nails, but he can't bring himself to care. Not when she feels this good around him, clenching even as he withdraws almost entirely. She keens when he pushes back in, rough, and her hips roll to meet his. As she bends her knees to her chest, allowing him to thrust deeper, he knows without a doubt that this isn't enough.
She hasn't even come yet and he's addicted to sex with Kate Beckett.
His movements quicken, become more and more erratic, and despite his own orgasm not long ago he won't last now. But he's determined to bring her to at least one before he does, maybe more if he can control his own.
She gasps his name when he slows, and she squeezes his waist in encouragement, but he doesn't listen to her plea for more, for harder, for faster. One hand drifts to her center and finds her clit; he brushes his thumb against her, grunts when she surges into him.
"Come for me, Kate," he murmurs into her ear, his fingers drawing her arousal up and around her clit, pressing the bundle of nerves until she cries out and clenches around him.
He slows his hips as she recovers, her chest heaving, hands dropping from his waist. Her head is thrown back against the pillow and he dips his head to taste her skin, swipes his tongue along her collarbone. He chuckles when her fingers find his head and push down.
"Want something else?" he teases, and despite his slow movements, despite the burning desire for his release, he wants to draw this night out for her, wants to make it a night of sex that she'll be hard-pressed to forget.
Speaking of hard…
He withdraws completely, intending to drive into her deeper and harder than he has so far, but before he can, her thigh hooks around his and she flips him to his back, rises above him.
She's a goddess, her skin flushed, a wicked look in her eye. He can't help but groan when she grips him and rolls her hips, coating him with her arousal. She doesn't waste any time teasing him, though, and he's grateful when she sinks onto him.
He can't take his eyes off of her: her head is thrown back in pleasure, hands cupping her own breasts, one drifting down her abdomen to her center.
"Kate," he gasps when she rolls her hips. He can't hold on much longer, but he can tell she's close to another, refuses to climax until she does again.
She finally spasms around him and falls forward, hands propping herself on his chest, and he bends his knees, drives into her. His fingers dig into her thighs and he finally gives into his need, thrusts into her with a final cry as he feels his release.
Kate rolls off of him and collapses at his side. "That-" she gasps, a hand threading through her hair.
He manages to get out of bed long enough to find a trash can, and he disposes of the condom in the bathroom, cleans himself up before returning to the bed with a wet washcloth for her. "Incredible," he finishes, dropping a knee to the mattress. "That was incredible." He stretches out next to her, props his head on his hand. "You're beautiful when you come."
She flushes even deeper and looks away briefly before meeting his gaze with her own. "You're not so bad yourself," she admits, trailing a hand up his arm.
He rises above her, brackets his thighs on either side of hers, and presses a kiss to her waiting mouth. "I need some time to recover," he mutters, but as he drifts south, tasting her, teasing her, his hands wander between her legs once again. "But in the meantime…"
Kate arches off the bed when his mouth closes around a nipple at the same time he slips a thick finger inside her. "In - what?"
He glances at her before releasing her nipple with a pop and moving south. "I want to taste you," he rumbles against her navel, "and then I want to see how quickly we can get through those condoms."
Only bought this dress so you could take it off
-FIN-
