AUGH! Okay, I'm a big fat liar. Finishing this chapter went soooo much more slowly than I had hoped; I'm sorry I kept you all waiting so long! Blame my muse, as she kept distracting me with scenes from random future chapters!

Okay, so this is the M-version of Chapter 5 of One Big Happy Family. It's my first time attempting a chapter like this, so… yeah, be gentle. ;) This is not a stand-alone chapter (unless you're just looking for some smutified writing, in which case… does plot really matter? I think not), so I suggest that you read the first four chapters of OBHF before this. I also will be going back and adding to the T version of Chapter 5… my plan was to do plot first, then all kinds of dirty sex last, but my plot spilled all over my sex, so I had to do something with that mess! ;) (That sounded much dirtier than I meant it to…)

And I apologize because this got long… really long. Like over twice as long as any chapter I've published. Hopefully you find it worth reading all the way through! It does include the entirety of Chapter 5, so if you read it in the T-rated version, nothing changes until toward the end of the original.

Disclaimer: I find it very unfortunate that AWM cannot write Caskett smut. Because I know his smut would be oh-so-amazing. But I can. So I did.

Chapter 5

Shivering slightly, her hands smoothed slowly across the luxurious sheets, seeking, searching for that magnetic warmth that she'd come to rely on, even need sometimes. Without it, her sleep was lighter, less restful. Which was ironic, since between his tendency to thrash around in bed and one or the other of them waking up to initiate… activities, her sleep was more often than not interrupted. But never before had she felt more at peace, more well-rested, more energized than in the time they'd been together.

Her eyes fluttered open, searched his side of the bed, only to find it empty. She was cuddled up with his pillow, though, and she buried her nose into its depths, his scent permeating her senses. She flopped onto her back, arms splayed over her head and let her other senses take over. She glanced over at the clock and groaned. Seriously, what was he doing up at 4:30 in the morning? She stilled, and then she heard it: the tell-tale sound of clacking keys that indicated that his creative juices were likely flowing, some scene with Nikki and Rook spilling from his fingertips and splaying in black across the electronic white canvas. She wondered if she would ever become accustomed to the fact that her favorite writer slept in her bed, did his life's work just outside the room she slept in, sometimes in her bed. Never in her wildest dreams did she picture herself here. In his home. In his bed.

But then, she hadn't really done much dreaming in the last thirteen years, had she? Reality. Make it through the day. Find justice, if not for her mother than for the victims like her. Oh she'd dreamt… she smiled slowly as she recalled the explicit dreams she'd had over the last four years involving herself and a certain pain-in-the-ass shadow of hers. Because annoying as hell or not, he was also sexy as hell, and the spark between them was positively dangerous in its ability to send them both up in flames. But her hopes, her aspirations… it wasn't as though she'd never had any, but they were vague, fuzzy, incomplete notions of a future at some distant point in time.

But now... Well, she generally didn't dwell on those types of thoughts for long. Her walls may be down, but she was still cautious, still needed to go slowly. Hell, she hadn't even told him how she really felt yet, though she knew that he knew. It was in every kiss, every brush of her fingertips over his body, every glance (well, when she wasn't pissed off or annoyed by some moronic stunt that he'd pulled). But words were important to him, and she was just trying to find the right moment, the right words to express herself. It seemed so essential that she do it right, that she express her feelings in just the right way with precisely the right words... probably because he'd been doing just that very thing for longer than she was willing to admit. And those dreams, the flashes that she allowed herself, or rather the snippets that appeared before she was able to stuff them into a box to be dealt with later, were anything but vague and indistinct. They were sharp, colorful, concrete, and so beautiful they hurt just looking at them. And while that scared the hell out of her, a part of her, the part that grew larger with every moment she spent at his side, in his arms, couldn't wait to open those boxes and start making those dreams part of her, their, reality.

She looked at the clock again and sighed in exasperation. She may have gone to bed irritated as hell at him, but... dammit, she'd been looking forward to dirty, 'distraction' sex as much as he had. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, determined to pull him from his creative haze and back to bed. She still had images of an ex-wife to wipe from his brain, and with what she had planned, they'd better get started soon. She grinned as she padded silently to the door of the study and thought about the possibilities.

She leaned a shoulder against the door frame, taking the opportunity to observe the man before her. His bare feet were propped up on his desk, his laptop resting on his thighs, fingers skittering across the keys, head tucked to his chest in concentration. She loved watching him like this, one of the few times that she could catch him unaware and do some staring of her own. It might be creepy, but she could now understand his apparent need to do the same with her. Sometimes.

"Hey."

His head snapped up, swinging around in her direction. His eyes crinkled as he a grin spread across his face. She wondered, not for the first time, why it had taken her so long to give in to this.

"Hey. Everything okay?"

She nodded. "Just… missed you, I guess." She immediately wrinkled her nose, too late realizing the ammunition she'd just given him.

He smirked, grinning wider. "Missed me, huh? Get lonely in that big bed all by yourself?"

She rolled her eyes dismissively. "Don't let it go to your head. It's just 'cuz you're like a damn furnace, and I get cold when you leave the bed."

His face lit with delight. "So what you're saying is… you missed my hot body." He barked out a loud laugh at the look on her face. "You walked right into that one."

Kate let her head drop against the wooden frame with a drawn-out groan. "Ugh. I take it back… I didn't miss you at all."

He waggled his eyebrows. "Sure, Beckett. You just keep tellin' yourself that."

She shook her head, hiding a smile as she looked down at her feet. It was somewhat disconcerting, being so much more open and transparent than she ever had been. "So how's it going?" nodding her head toward his computer.

"Okay. Just... had to." He shrugged.

She nodded her understanding. Writing was a compulsion sometimes, and there had been more than one occasion in which he'd darted off with a garbled explanation, practically trembling with the need to record an idea or scene before it drifted from his mind as quickly as it had entered.

"So what's Nikki up to?" She had been surprised at how willing he was to share and bounce ideas off of her. Another part of this relationship that was almost ridiculously surreal. But it was thrilling to be even a small part of the creative process, to be involved in his work like he'd been involved in hers. As awestruck as it made her, though, she didn't pull any punches. If he was going to ask her, she'd told him, he'd better be prepared to hear an honest opinion. They'd had more than one argument about a plot point, character development, or police procedure in the last eight months. She nearly always won the procedural arguments ("Castle, that's complete bullshit and you know it... Irons would never allow that to go down in the precinct."), he came out on top regarding plot, more often than not, but the character dilemmas were a fairly even split. Had you asked her four years ago if she would give a damn about Nikki Heat, she would have given you directions for the shortest, most painful route to hell, but now... She really cared about these characters, especially Nikki. She was protective of both her and Rook in a way she never would have thought possible, and she fought Castle regularly, at least in aspects in which he consulted her, to make sure that the stories stayed true to those beloved characters. In truth, however, there really weren't any big disagreements in that regard. Castle loved them even more than she did, and was just as eager to continue their story as organically as possible.

He tore his gaze away from his screen at her question. "Kicking Rooks' ass." He gave her a rueful smile.

She smiled affectionately. "Oh, yeah? What'd he do now?"

"He was a complete ass. Really stuck his foot in his mouth."

Kate snorted. "You say this like it's shocking."

Castle chuckled. "He really ought to invest in some better tasting shoes. Or just quit being so assholic."

Kate laughed. "Castle, you can't just make up words. Even if they are fitting." She shrugged. "Besides, Rook wouldn't be Rook if he didn't screw up and need a good ass-kicking every once in a while. Keeps Nikki limber."

The writer's eyes darkened substantially. "Limber, huh? That sounds pretty mutually beneficial. Like he should really be thanking her for the ass-kicking."

A peal of laughter escaped her mouth, and she clamped her hand over it, trying to contain the sounds in deference to his sleeping daughter. "Damn, Castle, that sounds an awful lot like Rook would thoroughly enjoy a trip to see Mistress Venom. I mean, you enjoyed our little jaunt, right, Ricky?"

He quickly saved his work, closed the laptop with a snap, and directed a mock scowl in her direction. "Not funny, Beckett. If anyone is going to push me around, it's gonna be you, not some trussed up dominatrix in hooker heels." He frowned. "Uh, wait, that didn't quite come out right."

With a smirk, she pushed off the door frame with her shoulder, and sashayed over to his desk, hips swinging under his t-shirt. It hadn't taken him long into their relationship to realize that she was just as sexy, if not more so, dressed in his clothes than in the sheerest of lingerie. Oh, make no mistake, she was eminently gorgeous in either, but there was something about a shirt that had once lain against his skin brushing and whispering around her naked body that just made his heart beat faster and the blood to from his head.

She came to a halt in front of his chair, insinuating herself between his knees. "You wanna be pushed around, Castle?" She lifted a long leg, and used her bare toes to push his shoulder against the back of the chair. His grin turned from amused to aroused in the span of a second, and he snagged her calf before she could return her foot to the floor. His fingertips traced a path up her calf to grip her knee, holding it still as he shifted his head to press an open-mouthed kiss to the side of her shin. His tongue darted out to flit against the silky skin of her calf, but before he could make his way further up toward her thigh, he felt Kate's fingertips gently pushing on his forehead, pulling her leg from his grasp.

"Uh, uh. That's not how this works. You just sit back and let me do the… pushing."

Castle groaned. "Ugh, c'mon … that all you got?"

She huffed, indignantly. "It's nearly 5 AM, Castle. Witticisms might not be a top priority at this hour," she placed her hands on his thighs, and leaned to place her lips next to his ear, just brushing the lobe, "but I assure you… that is not nearly all I've got." She drew a fingertip atop his boxers up his increasing length. "Not by a long shot."

His breath hitched in his chest. "Lame, Beckett. Really-" he choked as she gripped him through the fabric, "lame."

"Hmmm…" she hummed, as she lowered herself onto her knees on the floor between his legs, "guess we're gonna have to work on that."

He sifted his fingers through her hair, getting caught in the strands still tucked into her braid. She lightly ran her fingernails up and down his thighs before lowering her palms, the wiry hairs on his thighs brushing against her hands, as she ran her fingers up under the hem of his boxers. Bracing herself on his thighs, she leaned forward, pressing an open mouthed kiss to his growing arousal through the fabric. Castle sucked in a breath, hips jerking slightly involuntarily. She shot him a glance through her lashes, a knowing smirk on her lips. She carefully pushed the button in his boxers through its hole and slid her hand within to grasp him. She gently freed his length from its confines, reverently running her hand from tip to base. She leaned forward, her tongue darting out to taste the tip, the evidence of his desire for her salty on her tongue. She looked up at him, his breath coming in rapid puffs.

She ran her tongue up and down his length until he was glistening, base to tip. Placing her lips over top of him, she sucked him into her cavernous mouth as deeply as he would go. His answering moan delighted her, his pleasure in her ministrations turning her on as much as his touch could, and she felt desire pool between her own legs. She shifted slightly, trying to relieve some of her own mounting tension, but focused on the task at… mouth? Humming softly, her head bobbing over his lap, she then removed the head of his cock from her mouth with a pop, continuing to grip him and stroke him from base to tip.

"Still lame, Castle?"

She returned her mouth to his pulsing arousal, and he groaned in answer, thumping his head against the back of his desk chair, gripping its arms until his knuckles were bloodless, trying to keep from thrusting his hips toward her magical mouth.

"Fuck! I-" he gasped a breath as her tongue flicked and swirled, and – "Kate, I'm not gonna – I can't… Babe, ya gotta stop."

She suddenly removed her mouth from him, letting his length spring up against his t-shirt clad abdomen. She scowled at him, rising to stand before him, and placed a knee on either side of his thighs straddling his lap. With one long slender finger, she poked his chest, once again driving him back against his chair. "Do not call me 'babe'," she gritted out.

He grinned, even as he tried to control his rapid breathing and racing heart. "Well, what am I allowed to call you? Honey? Sweetheart? Sugar l-"

Her mouth was hot on his, tongue darting into his mouth, effectively silencing him. His hands roamed freely over her body, bunching the material of her t-shirt in his hands to give him access to her hot, silky skin.

She broke their kiss, breathing heavily, resting her forehead against his. "If you would like to continue what we started earlier tonight at all, I would suggest that you shut up and take me to bed."

Not having to be told twice (at least in matters of the bedroom), he hooked his hands under her thighs, and hefted them both out of his chair. Her arms twined around his neck, pulling his head down while lifting herself up to meet his mouth with hers. Their tongues tangled hungrily, dancing with one another, exchanging breaths. He stumbled as he rose fully, quite possibly the result of his blood having rushed south, and he sat her heavily on his desk. She didn't seem to mind, not bothering to remove her lips from his. He stepped closer between her thighs, pulling her hips flush against his. Her sodden panties rubbed enticingly along his aroused length, one wet silky scrap of fabric all that was separating him from her core. She circled her hips, desperate for the friction that would lead her toward relieving the ache that had been building for what seemed like, and really had been, hours.

Thinking back to when they started this, her thoughts glancing briefly on what originally interrupted them, she pulled her mouth from his, long enough to gasp, "Castle. We can't- we're not… alone. Bedr-"

His mouth was on hers before she could finish the thought, picking her up again and spinning to stride toward his room, his bed. They'd already been interrupted twice tonight… there was no way there would be a third.

His hands were everywhere, as were hers, caressing, touching, just devouring each other with sensitive fingertips. Their journey toward bed mirrored that of a pinball: bounce of a wall here, smacking the doorjamb there, a bump and spin around the dresser, picture frames flattening with a clatter on its surface. There were murmurs of pain, a curse or two, but mostly giggles and quietly shared laughter wafting on the heated air.

They reached his bed, breathless from laughing, wrapped around each other, the world having narrowed to the two of them. Castle released Kate's legs, letting her slide down his body, nerve endings tingling, until her toes touched the surface of the bedroom floor. She looked up at him, a smile wide across her face, and he inhaled sharply, his breath stuttering.

She was absolutely breathtaking, her smile radiant with her love for him. He'd followed her around for four years, like a puppy, and in all that time, he could count on one hand how often she'd displayed a smile even close to as brilliant as the one she had bestowed on him multiple times daily since she showed up rain-drenched on his doorstep. It was a smile of pure, unadulterated happiness, radiating her love for him. He was still anticipating the day when she could utter the words that she stated so clearly with her actions, her looks steeped in subtext. He didn't need the words to know how she felt, but selfishly he desperately wanted them. Words were his world, the foundation for his craft. He painted masterpieces with them, penned love letters in the form of novels with them. But he would wait patiently for Kate to 'speak his language'; he had no doubt that they would come in time, and in the meantime, he would keep his own thoughts in that vein to himself. He knew that Kate would likely see that as pressure, even if he didn't intend them that way, and she would feel compelled to say something in return. He wanted her words to be freely given, not born of obligation or a sense of impending doom, as his had been. So until that moment, he contented himself with confessing his feelings with his gaze, his hands… his mouth.

He set to work doing just that, slowing down their playful kisses, his manner almost reverent in the care that he displayed as he worked his lips over hers. Reducing their ardor to a slow burn, he set about making the evening up to her. What had started as a way to distract him from the worries brought on by his daughter's illness and hospital stay had turned into a need to make her feel special, to apologize. It physically pained him thinking that she might have felt disrespected in his home, and he felt a compulsion to make amends.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her in close, flush with his body. Her hands rested on his chest, feeling the steady, drum of his heart, her own heart stumbling to beat in time with his. She slid her hands up to twine in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging his head more firmly toward hers, taking control of their kiss and ramping it up a notch. His body responded in kind without his permission, his hands skidding up her ribcage until they reached her pert breasts, holding one perfect mound in each palm of his hand. He circled his palms, abrading her already stiff nipples, making her moan into his mouth. Having started and stopped during their evening, she was already as taut as a tightrope, ready to break at the least bit of provocation. And he was oh so ready to provoke her.

Finally having had enough of the barriers between him and her silken skin, he grasped the thin t-shirt, and brought it quickly over her head, her hands tangling in the arms in his haste to remove it. Finally free, he leaned back to take in her figure, clad only in her silk and lace panties and an expression of ardent hunger on her face. She dove back toward him, eager to have his attire match her own. Bunching his t-shirt in her hands, she raised it up and over his head, flinging it to a far corner of the room. She gazed at the broad expanse of his chest greedily, smoothing her hands across his pectorals and down over the muscles of his abdomen, following the thin line of crisp hair leading down to his boxers. She lowered her mouth to his sternum, alternatively kissing and licking her way over to one of his broad, flat nipples. She laved the puckered flesh with her tongue, lightly scored its tip with her teeth, and then soothed it again with her tongue.

Castle hissed out a breath. Shit. He was never going to last like this. And this was supposed to be about her. When had he lost control of the situation? Right. Who was he kidding? Control was a singularly elusive concept when it came to Kate. Particularly naked Kate.

She trailed her open mouth over his heated skin, across his chest and up toward his broad shoulders, her fingertips stroking a haphazard path down his ribcage sending sensations spinning, dizzying in their intensity. She planted open-mouthed kisses along his collar bone, alternatively stroking and sucking the delicate skin covering his clavicle, eventually branding him with her teeth. He inhaled sharply, and leaned back to put a bit of distance between their bodies.

He gazed into her eyes pausing their heated exploration to search the depths of her eyes with his. His brow furrowed as he made sense of what he saw.

"You're the only one here, Kate."

She started. "What?"

His gaze intensified, eyes boring into hers, searching out her soul. "You are the only one. Here." He tapped his temple. "And here." he took her slender hand in his much larger one and placed it over his heart. He shrugged. "You have been for years."

He knew. He knew what having Meredith in his home and in their bedroom had done to her. She trusts him implicitly, knew he wasn't interested in his ex-wife, was well aware that he had no desire for any more deep-fried Twinkies, but seeing her there had brought out a primal need to claim him, to possess him, to fill him so full of her that he had no room for even a glimmer of any other woman. But as he had so often done, he knew the exact thing to say that would soothe her, calm her, reassure her. She lunged at him, lips crashing on to his, teeth clashing, tongues dueling. Her hand dove beneath the waistband of his boxers, wrapping her slim fingers around his length, but he grabbed her wrist, gently, pulling her hand up and moving to grasp her by the shoulders.

He locked his gaze on her shining hazel eyes, held hers for a moment. "Kate, just let me. Please?"

He was asking her to let this be about her, to let him pay homage to her body, show her just how thoroughly she had ensnared him, spoiled him for any other woman. She gave him a soft, almost shy smile, slid her arms up around his neck, placing her body flush with his, and said softly, "Okay. I'm all yours." The double meaning of her words resonated with him, and he captured her lips in a soft kiss that deepened slowly, pouring out all that he couldn't yet say.

Keeping their lips in contact, he gently moved her back until her knees hit the bed, then with his hand supporting the small of her back, guided her to slide back over the coverlet so that she was sitting, half reclined, in the center of the bed with his body looming over hers. Their lips were the only parts of them touching, and she wanted, no needed for him to put his hands on her. But he wanted to do things his way, so she gripped the fabric beneath her hands, fighting to control the urge to grab him and take what she wanted.

Castle's hot mouth began to press kisses along her jaw, working his way toward her collar bone and the hollow of flesh just behind it that drove her crazy. He sucked gently, laving the spot with his tongue and felt a shudder go through her. She brought one hand up to thread her fingers through his hair, applying no pressure, just needing to touch him.

He traveled further south, pressing kisses to her sternum, and the underneath sides of her breasts. As he made his way to her outer curves, his hands set to work, tracing patterns down her ribcage, down the nip of her waist, following the slim line of her hips. His thumbs began making small circles on the jut of her hip bone, leaving a trail of sparks in his wake. He continued to use his mouth to caress her breasts but deliberately and studiously avoided her areolas. She writhed beneath him, desperate for his mouth, his hands to touch her where she most needed to be touched. She whimpered, and he looked up from where he had been worshipping her abdomen with his mouth and held her gaze with hooded eyes.

"What do you want, Kate?"

She huffed in exasperation. "You," her tone implying how obvious that answer should be at this point.

Lazily, he swept his fingers across her stomach, brushed his thumbs along the underside of her breasts, sweeping up just shy of her turgid nipples. Her chest heaved as she panted, fighting for control. "Kate."

She struggled to open her eyes and sweep aside the haze of desire that swamped her senses. Her hazel eyes met his impossibly blue ones. "Tell me."

Oh. Well, hell.Of course this man of words would want her to tell him what she wanted him to do to her. Okay. I can do this.

"I… um… I want your… mouth on me." It was absolutely ridiculous that after nine months of spectacular sex in a myriad of adventurous positions and locations that he could still manage to make her blush.

Castle grinned and lowered his mouth to… her stomach, swirling his tongue in her navel. The sensation made her stomach flip, but she scowled as he never strayed from her abdomen. Dammit, he would have to behave like a child and take every instruction literally. He obviously was not going to make this easy for her. She inhaled a deep breath, "On my breasts, Castle." She thought for a moment about his apparent need to take everything literally and then amended, "On my nipples."

Castle looked delighted that she'd figured out his game, and the heat in his eyes ratcheted up several notches as her words penetrated, making him impossibly hard. He took a deep breath, fighting for control, and then diverted his attention to the dusky peaks atop perfect breasts. He took one pert bud into his mouth, laving it with his tongue, causing Kate to arch off the surface of the bed, pushing her breast further into his mouth. He quite willingly obliged, suckling while swirling his tongue around the tip, feeling Kate's respirations increase dramatically. He turned his attentions to the neglected peak, bringing up a hand to fondle the breast he'd just abandoned, rolling the nipple lightly between his fingers, squeezing gently.

Kate fought to keep her head about her, though the lightning bolts that were shooting from her breasts down to her core were making it incredibly difficult. "Cas-Castle. Lower," she managed to bite out.

He moved lower, revisiting her abdomen. "Lower!" she pleaded. He moved slightly lower to press soft kisses along the edge of her panties… and stayed there.

"Castle!" she growled.

He chuckled at her frustration, but deigned to follow the instructions as he knew she'd intended. His mouth dragged along the silky smooth surface of her silk panties. He buried his nose in her mons, inhaling the scent of her arousal. Arousal inspired by him. The idea still rocked him when he stopped to think about it, how far they'd come, how everything he'd longed for was now literally right at his fingertips. Writhing at his fingertips. He pressed a wide smile against her center before opening his mouth once more, tongue darting out to swipe the flat of his tongue up the slick surface of her long-wet panties. He continued his attentions, licking as if one would devour an ice cream cone, causing Kate to moan and squeeze her muscled thighs around his ears.

"Castle! Shit. Take them off!"

He very willingly obliged, sweeping the sodden garment down and off her long legs, flinging them carelessly behind him. He stared at the beautiful woman before him, arms resting up by her head, gorgeous hazel eyes swirling with desire and trained on him. Her legs were splayed, leaving her open and vulnerable, two adjectives that he had very few occasions to apply to her prior to that day she'd appeared on his doorstep, the living embodiment of them.

He grasped a shapely ankle in either hand, and used his hands to guide her feet closer to her body, causing her knees to bend. He leaned forward, pressing kisses to the side of her knee, working his way up her inner thigh, growing closer and closer to her center. Her breath stuttered in her chest as the anticipation grew. She'd discovered long ago that his penchant for drawing out the suspense extended far beyond his books. He abruptly changed directions, and when she felt his hot mouth and tongue working the skin of her other knee, she nearly screamed in frustration. Use your words, Kate.

"Castle." He paused, eyebrows raised, to meet her gaze. "Make me come. Please?"

God. This woman. She completely undid him at every turn. He swooped down to her core, sweeping the flat of his tongue along her lips, relishing in her musky scent, the tang on his tongue. She arched her back, breasts and sternum lifting toward the ceiling; she was strung tight as a bow string, and he was a virtuoso, creating a symphony of sensations whirling through her body. Pleasure so intense that it bordered on pain spread throughout her being like a shock wave as he moved his mouth over the tiny bundle of nerves and gently sucked it into his mouth. She shouted a curse, her head moving frantically from side to side, and she lifted higher and higher. "Castle!" she gasped out, "I need you inside me!"

She expected to feel the cool rush of air flow over her nether regions as he reared up to enter her. Instead, the heat and pressure against her center did not relent; she felt two broad fingers slip inside her passage, stretching her. He caressed her inner walls, her muscles rippling at the invasion, tightening around his digits as they pushed further within her. She was nearly at her breaking point when his fingers curled within her, the tips of his fingers massaging her sweet spot and sending her careening over the edge, shattering her into a million pieces.

He slid up her body, careful to avoid over-stimulating her sensitized skin. He gently kissed her lips, and she tasted them both as their tongues tangled lazily. She summoned the strength and will to open her eyes and focus on the blue eyes brimming with love above her.

"Not," she breathed, "exactly… what I meant, Castle."

"Well, then... say what you mean!" he replied with a grin.

He lay on his side beside her, skin to skin, his boxers somehow having come off while she her vision had been blinded by starbursts. He gently grasped her waist, rolling her to face him, and reached down to hitch her knee up over his hip. He reached between them, grasping his own length, and rubbing its tip up and down her slit, coating himself with the evidence of her climax. Her breath faltered, having not completely come down from her orgasm just moments before, her arousal beginning yet another climb up the cliff. He positioned himself at her entrance, and reached around to grasp her ass, pulling her closer, entering her swiftly. Her breath whooshed in an exhale, and he stilled, gathering his control, surrounded as he was by her velvety heat. He began to move slowly, steadily, pumping in and out. She picked up his rhythm, encouraging him to pick up his pace, grinding her pelvis into his. She tightened her leg over his hip, using her calf muscles to increase the pressure brought on by his thrusts. Her hands tangled in his hair, their tongues dueling between their fused mouths. He brought his hand up to pay homage to her breasts again, cupping one perfectly shaped mound in his large hand. Their eyes locked together, staring into eyes that mirrored all of the passion, all of the love that they each held for their partner but couldn't yet say aloud. But amidst the pants, gasps, and moans that broke the stillness around them, their unspoken messages drowned out all the rest.

Her still-sensitive system didn't take long to reach the precipice of orgasm. "Castle. Let go. I want you to come with me."

Her words were like a jolt of electricity through his system. His fingers squeezed the nipple he was fondling involuntarily, and his hips thrust hard against hers. It was enough to send her careening over the edge and into the abyss of pleasure. Her muscles lining the wall of her passage rippled with her climax, sending him following right after her. He shouted her name, gripping her to him as he spilled into her, sparks flashing behind his eyelids.

He wrapped his arms around her, and she slumped, exhausted against his chest, their breathing harsh and ragged in the still darkness of the pre-dawn hours. Her breath tickled his chest, her exhales becoming smoother and more rhythmic as her muscles relaxed to a boneless state. He pressed a sleepy kiss to her chestnut locks, breathing in her scent, so grateful for her, in his bed, in his life. He murmured words of love into the strands of her hair before succumbing to the siren's pull of slumber.

A/N: Okay, before I run and hide, I will say that the primary reason that I didn't get this done sooner is that I was SOOOO nervous about it. So. If you love it, leave me a review and tell me! If you didn't like it, leave me a review and tell me what you'd like to see/not see next time! And that way if there IS a next time, it will come SOONER! :) You guys are awesome!