An extension of the end of "Always" (4.23)
Author's Note: This is pretty much just 3,500 words of sex. I regret nothing. Enjoy!
"…all I could think about was you. I just want you."
The crack of thunder and her feather-light touch against his lip was his undoing. The dam was broken, never to be repaired. There would be no going back, no return from this moment, but how could they? One taste of her, one second of her lips on his and he knew he'd never be the same again.
Four years worth of pent up passion sent them crashing into each other: body against body, skin against skin, lips against lips. The jolt of the slamming door did nothing to distract either of them from kissing, caressing, tasting. He allowed every sensation to consuming him, bottling it, memorizing it so he could savor forever. The taste of her rain-soaked skin. The sweet, lingering smell of the perfume beneath her jawline. The feel of her firm breasts beneath his fingertips.
Kissing her was not enough; he wanted to devour every part of her, soak her in and never let go. His fingers tore through her hair as his lips assaulted her neck. The feeling of her fingers doing the same was almost too much. Oh how many nights had he dreamed of her fingers in his hair, tickling the back of her neck, and her lips skimming across his throat. He pressed their bodies together tighter, almost to the point of his mind being completely void of thought until his lips reached the valley of her breasts and he remembered.
He pulled back and stared down at the circular scar, a geometric mar on an otherwise perfect canvas. He reached for the top button on her blouse and popped it open, spreading the fabric and brining the scar into full view. How many hours had he thought about that moment? The moment that changed his life—their lives—forever.
He remembered it then a year later as thought it was one second before. The feeling he had when he realized she'd been shot, when she was bleeding out in his arms, ate away at him. The memory gave him chills and the feelings that accompanied it made his stomach churn. Though they weren't as frequent as they once were, he still had nightmares about that instant—the moment when he confessed his love, unsure if he could save her.
She picked up his hand slack against her chest and moved it to the scar. He could feel the raised skin beneath his index finger and stroked the area gently while their lips met in another tender embrace. Her fingertips brushed his jaw and he could not prevent his own from curling around the lacy edge of her bra.
With two more soft kisses, his eyes fluttered open and met her gaze. A soft smile played on her lips as she lowered her left hand down to pick up his right. Their fingers intertwined as perfect puzzle pieces and, with a firm tug, she led him away from the door. She'd been in his home enough times to know where his bedroom was, though she had yet to cross the threshold.
With each step, his heart rate increased along with the thoughts spinning in his mind. Half of him wanted to have a calm, rational conversation about what the hell had happened to her—to them—in the prior twenty-four hours. The other half was contemplating the most efficient way to rid them both of their clothing.
A foot from the bed she paused and turned to face him. Their gazes locked and he felt a tremor of passion course down his spine and out into each of his limbs. They'd always had a knack for exchanging glances and knowing exactly what the other was thinking. He wasn't sure he could verbalize what he was reading from her at that moment, but he knew for certain it was the sexiest thing he could imagine.
He brought his fingertips to the hem of her shirt and began to drag the item up and off her body. She raised her arms to assist him and, when he'd tossed the shirt aside, he looked back to her. She stood in her black, lace-edged bra with an expression that had morphed into one of mixed emotion. Desire was there, yes, but now, quite possibly for the first time, utter vulnerability. She was about to become completely open, exposed and that was not the Kate Beckett way.
He had no doubts. Not one concern. This was four years—four long years—in the making and he was going to prove to her every second that it was worth it and it was the start of the most wonderful journey of their lives.
With his left hand cupping the underside of her jaw he closed the distance between them, sealing their lips together once more. His right hand found her hip and skimmed the toned flesh along her waist and back above the rise of her jeans. He guided her towards the bed and, when she sat, he placed one knee down, cradling her entire torso until she was lying on the mattress. Only then did he join her, stretching out beside her, slipping one leg in between hers.
Their lips continued their duel, taking journeys across each other's flesh but always coming back together. As their lips parted, the battle of their tongues took over, each of them fighting for control, neither of them winning for long. With their lips occupied, their hands roamed elsewhere: hers tugging at his shirt and his slipping behind her back to unclasp her bra.
Their lips were forced momentarily apart when she pulled her arms out of her bra and tossed it towards the end of the bed. She grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his mouth back to hers, and he brought his fingertips up to run across the newly exposed flesh. Her nipples tightened almost instantly at his touch and, when he rolled one of them between his thumb and forefinger, she gasped into his mouth.
With a deep laugh, he ran his tongue down across her jaw, over her collar bone and down her chest on a direct path to her right breast. He captured the tip in his mouth, using his lips to seal off the skin while his tongue moved in a circular pattern. He heard her gasp, "Castle!" as her hips arched off the bed, which only fueled his movements.
After giving both of her breasts equal attention, he sat up momentarily so he could remove his shirt. As he was struggling to get his arms out of the item (why had it suddenly become so damn hard to get sleeves off!?) her fingertips were hastily working at the button and zipper of his pants. With his shirt gone, he pulled her towards him, feeling the warmth of her skin against his as they crashed back into the mattress together.
With the task half-done already, undressing each other became a priority. As much as he wanted to taste every inch of her, there would be time for that, years for that if he had his way, but right there in that moment he had to have her. He couldn't—wouldn't—wait another second.
He kissed his way down from her throat, through the valley of her breasts, and down the center of her abdomen until he reached the button on her jeans. He unbuttoned and unzipped and grabbed the waistband firmly. She lifted her hips and he slid them easily down her legs until they reached her ankles, where they were quite snug. Damn women and their skinny jeans, he thought as he pulled off one leg at a time.
With her pants tossed aside all that remained were her scandalizingly lacy purple hip-huggers. He took a moment—just one moment—to gaze down at her nestled in the covers of his bed. Her lips pink and plump from their kissing. Her nipples alert and glistening from his saliva. And her gaze saying "C'mon Castle, what are you waiting for?"
He reached for the hem of her panties and dragged the cotton-and-lace item from her body. Her legs fell askew giving him just a glimpse of her. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he pushed his jeans and boxers from his hips. Good god he was going to make this last as long as he could, even if it killed him.
She welcomed him back into the bed with open arms, pulling him immediately down to her and sealing their lips together. Her hands traveled across his strong, muscular shoulders while his skimmed down her body, across her hips and between her thighs, where he felt just how ready she was for him. He skimmed his fingertips across her damp flesh, testing, swirling until he reached the spot that made her breathe in sharply and buck her hips towards his hand. He smiled inwardly, crushing his lips against hers as his index finger circled. She writhed beneath him, clawing her fingertips into the flesh at his ribs.
He could feel her breathing change into a shorter, quicker rhythm and her heart rate humming faster beneath the fingertips at the base of her jaw. When she clawed her nails into the flesh at his shoulders he knew it was time to stop torturing her—both of them—so he slid his fingers away and settled between her legs.
With one more sweet kiss he lifted his head enough to gaze into her eyes. She used her right hand to push back some of the hair on his forehead and run her fingertips down his cheek. This was it; this was the moment he'd spent four years dreaming about and he knew he needed to look into her eyes for every second of it.
When they finally—finally!—joined together he was convinced he felt his heart stop for a moment. He watched her tug her teeth across her bottom lip and blink slowly, letting out a long, steady exhale. He allowed himself a moment to revel in the fact that for the first time he was able to love her the way he wanted. She locked her arms around his chest and pulled him down against her, letting their bodies come together as their hips found a rhythm.
He wanted this feeling, this union to last well into eternity, but with each movement he was convinced the next would be his last. As her body tensed, she became more vocal, panting, moaning, and finally crying out his name as her body contracted around his. His release was just moments behind hers; his whole body trembled and it took every last bit of his concentration to roll over onto his hip and not completely crush her with his weight.
They lay completely entangled with each other for several moments, their breathing heavy before they each opened their eyes and their gazes met. They shared a breathy laugh and mirroring smiles before he leaned his head into hers. He placed two chaste kisses on her lips before resting them a few moments longer on her cheek. As an author he considered himself intimately familiar with the English language, though he knew for certain that if in that moment his life depended on him forming a coherent sentence, he would have died a very happy man.
Their bodies remained tangled together as they drifted in and out of sleep for the better part of half an hour. When he awoke after dozing, he realized that all the lights in the apartment had been left on. Knowing he had no intentions of leaving the bed for the remainder of the night, he slid very cautiously from his sleeping companion and padded his way into the hall, switching off the lights by the door, in the kitchen, and finally in his office. He reentered the bedroom, concerned that he would be unable to enter the bed without awakening her, only to find her eyes were open and she was observing his approach.
She slid over towards one side of the mattress, giving him more room to lie down. He pulled the sheet with him as he did so, laying on his side facing her, his fist propping up his head. Just as he was contemplating the right words to say, she spoke.
"I quit my job."
"Y-you what?!" he questioned, never having expecting that sentence from her.
"I quit my job today," she repeated.
He stared down at her, wide-eyed, shaking his head ever so gently, searching for an explanation.
She gazed down at her fingertips resting on her chest. She picked at her thumbnail absentmindedly before turning her gaze back to him. "That job took so much from me, Castle; so much. I didn't realize how consuming it was until I was hanging off the ledge of a ten story building thinking about you. All I could think was how stupid I was. How if I died you wouldn't know how I felt. You wouldn't know how much I wanted to be with you."
He smiled down at her, glad to hear that confession, but greatly concerned by something else she had said. "Hold on—can we go back to the part where you were hanging off the ledge of a ten story building?"
She shrugged and closed her eyes, settling back against the pillow. "It was fine—Ryan pulled me up in time."
"Kate!"
She opened her eyes and he expected to see her confused as to why he was so upset—more of that bizarre cop attitude he'd never understand—but instead he saw fear. "I was calling out for you. I thought you were coming for me. I thought you'd be there to save me but-"
"I'm here now," he told her before lowering his lips to hers. She looped her arms around his neck, drawing him in like the lifeline he was, clinging onto him the way she'd dreamed about for so many years.
It took him just moments to pull the sheet from her body and skim his fingertips across her flesh once more. This time, he took his time trailing kisses across her collar bone and down her right arm all the way to her wrist before rotating it, kissing her palm and then traveling all the way back up and down the other side. He nipped at the flesh on her side, above her hips, across her thighs until his lips reached the crest of the juncture of her legs. She parted her knees and made room for him to settle in between.
He kissed his way down her inner thighs as his fingertips began stroking her tender flesh in long, vertical strokes. Her hips began to squirm beneath his touch and her fingertips grazed across her stomach and breasts. He parted her lips and let his tongue take over: stroking, circling, devouring every inch. She let out whimpers he'd never heard before; moans that only fueled his actions further.
When he slid two fingers inside her and curled them at just the right spot she brought her hands up to grab onto the pillow she rested on, her hips rising as much as they could with his left hand pinning her hip down. She moaned out his name and that of several deities as he alternated using his tongue and teeth while pumping his fingers within her until she finally crested the wave she was riding and every muscle in her body began to tremble.
He kissed his way back up her body and, as their lips joined together, so did their bodies. That time, there was no hesitation in their rhythm; they rode together until they were once again moaning out each other's names and collapsing back against the pillows.
Spooned together, they slept for several hours, comforted by each other's warmth and rhythmic breathing. Despite the peaceful state of her body, her mind raced through a nightmare. She dreamed she was on the top of that building, grasping the ledge with just one finger until suddenly she was falling and falling and, just as she hit the ground, she awoke with a gasp.
She half sat up, confused to her surroundings until she felt his strong arm around her waist and immediately relaxed back into her pillow. She was with him; she was safe. She placed her hand on top of his and smiled to herself.
Finally.
She shook her head thinking about how stupid she had been, how silly. How had she not seen it? How had she not known? Why had she been so afraid for so long when it was so obvious? He was it; he was the one she'd waited her whole life for and this was the beginning of everything wonderful to come.
She reminisced to a few hours earlier when they'd made love the first time. The emotions almost overwhelming her as her chest began to tighten. To call the feeling love was an insult. Love was used too often, too passively. This was completion and a connection stronger and truer than she'd ever felt before.
The look in his eyes as he moved above her. The warmth of his lips against hers. The feel of his fingers dancing across her most intimate areas. The power she felt from him as he drove into her. She wished she could bottle it all up and keep it with her all the time to comfort her; her perfect moment.
As she lay there, she felt him begin to stir. He mumbled something incoherent and rolled onto his back, taking his hand with him. She was not sure if he was entirely awake, but she knew of one way to find out.
She turned one hundred and eighty degrees so that she was facing him. She lowered her lips to his shoulder and kissed it. Then she moved down to his collar and placed another kiss. She placed a third kiss in the hollow of his neck, sliding her body over so one of her breasts was pressed against his chest. He mumbled again and that time she distinctly heard her name, but she still was not convinced he out of dreamland.
She trailed her kisses down across his strong chest and muscular abdomen, following the trail of hair to his groin where she stopped and wrapped her right hand around his semi-hard member. She stroked her hand up and down several times before he opened his eyes and gazed down at her, shocked. She offered him a smile before joining her hands together along his shaft and grazing her tongue across the tip.
A deep moan of her name escaped his lips and she smiled to herself before lowering her lips down over him. Slowly, knowing she was torturing him, she took more and more of him into her mouth until her lips traveled most of the way down his shaft. She then pulled him all the way out before lowering her lips down at an even slower pace. As her left hand held him at the base, her right cupped him underneath, running her fingertips over the sensitive area.
"Jesus Christ Kate," he panted out as he ran his fingertips over his brow. She almost laughed at his pained expression. She was driving him absolutely mad, which was her intention.
She watched his chest rise and fall in faster and faster intervals, waiting until she knew he was almost at the edge before dropping her hands and pulling her mouth away from him. He gazed at her intently as she rearranged her position so she was kneeling on either side of her hips. She stretched her torso out across his and trailed her kisses up across his chest and finally onto his lips.
As their tongues dueled she reached her arm down and closed her fingers around him, holding him steady so she could lower herself onto him. He groaned when she pulled her lips from him, sinking down onto his full length. She rolled her hips once and wet her lips with her tongue, reveling in how he felt inside her, strong and solid, hitting her in all the right places.
When she began to roll her hips rhythmically he grabbed onto her hip bones and stared up at amazement towards her bouncing breasts and pleasure filled expression. He was so distracted by her beauty he almost failed to realize the tension building inside him—almost. His fingertips gripped tighter and tighter as he panted out her name. She slowed her rhythm and opened her eyes, smiling down at him. It was then he realized she knew exactly what she was doing to him and god damn was she ever good at it.
After several moments she began to roll her hips faster and faster and did not stop until they were both crying out. She collapsed against him, their chests pressing together with each of their heavy breaths.
With her heart rate returning to a normal speed, she rolled back to her side of the mattress and brushed the hair from her eyes. When she felt him snuggle up to her and drop two kisses on her shoulder, she smiled and placed her hand over the one resting by her side. She soon drifted back to a sleep not filled with nightmares but of the possibilities to come and the knowledge that they would face them together.
-Fin-