She drifted up slowly from a deep sleep. Her eyes opened just long enough to see gauzy curtains billowing gently at the French doors, a soft, grey dawn light behind them. The room smelled of sea and rain. She closed her eyes.
Castle was spooning her from behind. His warm chest supported her back. Her nightshirt was bunched up around her waist. His hand was down the back of her panties, cupping her. His middle finger was a thick, comforting presence plugged deep in her anus.
They lay like that for a long time, dozing, the rain on the windows whispering at the edges of her awareness.
Gradually, his finger began to move, massaging her intimately. She grew wet, and made a small, needy noise.
He kissed her and spoke softly. "Shh, go back to sleep."
His finger slipped out, and the bed dipped as he rolled away. She curled in on herself at the loss of connection. There was a click and a wet noise, and then he was back, his hand sliding back where she wanted it. The necessary exposure that always made her want to turn her face into the pillow in self-consciousness, and then the firmer, more purposeful push she was waiting for. Two fingers. Again they reached full depth and stilled for a while, though her body clenched around the intruders even as she drifted off again.
She came to lying on her stomach. A long, thin tube protruded from her anus. The bulb it was attached to rested heavily on the backs of her thighs. He pulled the collar of her nightshirt down to plant a soft kiss between her shoulder blades, and she squirmed for happiness in feeling so loved and cared for. For the time and trouble he always took to ensure that she was ready for this and would feel no discomfort. She heard his soft grunt as he gave the bulb a strong squeeze, and nearly came as the liquid was forced deep into her body. He tugged gently and the tube slipped out, dripping a little liquid on her buttocks. She moaned.
"You look amazing," he whispered, and she could tell he was unsure if she was awake.
The detective in her noticed that his breathing was uneven, now, and knew he was as close as she was. She heard the packet opening, and the rubbery noise that followed, picturing the latex rolling down his hard length, picturing him fisting his cock to cover it with lubricant. Cooperatively, she drew up her right leg as he pressed himself tight against her. She took a deep breath.
He lifted her right buttock, and the blunt head of his penis slipped in easily. She sighed drowsily, happy the connection was re-established. Even so, he stopped after an inch or two.
"Hey, you," he whispered. "Doing okay?"
She smiled, hugged his free arm to her chest, and kissed his knuckles. Then she squeezed her inner muscles. He gasped, jerked his hips, and slid in all the way.
"Oh, God," he breathed. "Sorry. But you have to take some responsibility for that."
She kept her eyes closed, but grinned. "All my fault, Castle."
She made a conscious effort to relax as he began to rock into her. It was a soft, stormy summer morning, and they were in no hurry. He kept his thrusts gentle, lazy and slow, and moaned when she dropped her hand to her clit, playing with herself while she savoured the exquisite push and pull of their joining.
When she came, it was a long, sweet orgasm that rolled on for some time. He jerked hard once, twice, three times, and came with a cry.
They lay still as the rain came down, until his softening cock slipped out of her and she turned to face him. His sleepy, satisfied, smile warmed her like nothing else ever could. She lifted her nightshirt and guided her nipple to his mouth. He closed his eyes and latched on with a happy sigh.
She ran her fingers through his hair. "You know you're going to have to share that at some point," she teased softly.
"And I will do, gladly," he smiled around her breast. "But not today."
End.