Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars
Place your head on my beating heart
...
We found love right where we are.
The night falls over them slowly, soft pastel colors strewn across the sky turning vivid and deep with the encroachment of dusk. Red peters out into purple, fades into blue and finds strength in darkest black until the world around them is cocooned by the evenings fall. Stars blanket the heavens, thousands upon thousands lighting up the dark, casting pinpricks of sparkle over a night destined for reverie, and in the quiet glow it finds them peaceful and drawn together, watching their family depart, a silhouette against the canvas of their window.
Flames flicker low in the background, candles too, a few rose petals cast across the sheets that makes them smile. Martha, no doubt, adding a flare of drama and a touch of romance to the bedroom before she left with the others.
Standing in the quiet of their room, Castle breathes deeply and drops his hands to her hips as the waves crash into the shore beyond, gentle curling fingers pulling her back until she rests her head against his chest, turns her ear to his heart and hums at the steady beat. Kate sighs, smile never far from her lips, hands reaching out to cover his own.
They watch their family leave, listen to the wheels of each car speak out over the quiet conversation that rolls between the ocean and the sand until the lights finally blink and fade out at the end of the driveway.
Finally alone, finally husband and wife.
Kate lifts her head, tilts back and finds his mouth, kissing him softly, her eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as he sways them to the center of the room. She hums into the kiss, into the movement and smiles against his lips, caught up in the happiness that flows between them so easily. Lost in the magic.
It's quiet and peaceful, deadly still save for the undulation of their bodies and the call of the ocean beyond the window. An air of tranquility having settled over them almost the moment their rings were in place. It's eerie really, how much things can change and stay exactly the same in a split second of time.
They're married now, committed, eternally each others. Yet, it's not as though it didn't feel that way before.
Legality shouldn't make a difference but it does and she's grateful, lucky, blessed, every miraculous word can be applied to her life in the moment because she loves him, and they're married now. Finally. At last.
Kate kisses him again, lets him catch the smoky flavor of her belief and enjoyment, chasing the fire of desire right through her kiss and down deep.
Into her heart.
And he kisses back just as fiercely, as peacefully and languidly. Pulling out the rich sounds of enjoyment that quake at the back of his throat before he offers them up to her in hope she understands. No one but her. In any world and any universe, dream state, coma or Dickensian food induced nightmare, life without Kate Beckett - oh, Kate Castle now - by his side is unthinkable.
She turns, casts a long and longing glance at him over her shoulder and draws her hair aside in offering. Their eyes catch and hold, breath equally stolen by the magnitude of what they've done.
The simplicity of her request startles through his body, she wants him to help undress her. They've done this a million times, traded zippers and buttons and tie knots, cuff-links and necklaces as any couple would, but tonight he's helping his wife out of her wedding clothes and somehow it becomes so much more.
Nothing is simple between them, has ever been, but somehow that makes it so much more worthwhile.
Castle's lips press to the skin that peeks through the lace at her shoulder and nods, slow, silent, absorbed in his task. She watches him, transfixed. His fingers map the curve of her throat, feather her collarbone and drift low, his eyes never once leaving the pull of her own. He learns the intricacies of her clothing and her body with each movement, worshiping material and skin and emotion all at once.
Kate's eyes flutter as she fights to keeps them open, lost in the tender touch of his fingers, the forever feel of every single caress laid over her skin by her husband.
Castle strokes through her hair, trails her earlobe and follows the swan-like curve of her neck, glancing over her hand, pressing a kiss to the finger that now bears his ring. His breath ripples down her spine, insinuates itself between each strand of hair it lifts from her neck and sends a wave of goosebumps exploding over her flesh like fireworks. They ripple heat, flare out in bright pinks and reds as his touch, painting her skin in the luminescent glow of seduction.
Her breath becomes a rumble caught between satiation and desire, a purr of near contentment that he needs to hear more of. Wants to elongate and draw out, wants to spend the night immersing himself in.
Castle climbs down the row of buttons at her back, pressing over each one that he bypasses for a second or two so that she can feel his steady downwards progress. His fingers dexterous as though trailing piano keys, tap and graze and leave her breathless.
He takes a moment to find the melody in the dip of her waist to let himself sway to the steady beat and tune that plays out at the touch of each digit to her skin. She blinks and wets her lips, holds his eyes, and beneath his hands her body begins to dance.
The ripple of change through her limbs is infinitesimal and magnetic. She quivers, bites her lip and watches him, curves a hand around her waist so her fingers brush his on his descent.
He doesn't falter.
Castle moves slow, wrapped up in the movement of his hands over her, the softest white contrasts of the outfit she wore to marry him fascinating as it divides, shifts and changes with every touch. He unties the bow at her back, takes the longest second to pull apart the seemingly endless lengths of creamy white silk, dragging the material between his fingers and thumbs, laying it out over his palms to memorize the feel before letting the tails fall at her side.
She gasps.
It's the barest sound that flutters her lips apart, yet it stills his progression. His eyes roam back up and over her body, until he climbs the curl of her risen shoulder and tumbles into the depths of her gaze.
They stare, one look bouncing back and forth, one emotion fired between them. Each ricochet powered by heat, rocketing the intensity from one to the other until it collides somewhere in the middle. Explodes out. Flares in ferocity.
Her cheeks flush and head dips, but her eyes don't falter. She doesn't move or change position as Castle draws her in, shares breath, brushes the tip of his nose to her own.
Castle breathes over her lips, but doesn't quite kiss her, their lips collide, painting love on each other's mouths in the silence that surrounds. More magic in the moment.
When they do kiss it's a surge of bliss, a lightning strike to the heart that draws her mouth wide for the touch of his tongue, keeps his lips nimble below the nip of her teeth. It's nothing of sweet and everything of the spice and banter of their partnership.
His fingers drop, slide, cup and caress until he unfastens her pants, drawing his thumb over the lowest plains of her spine in one warm sweep.
Her skin is cold, yet luscious and tanned against the paleness of her outfit. Heat blossoms under his touch and Kate pushes herself back into his arms, breaks from his lips on a sighed out laugh, as though he's caught up to her, running from a summer rain. She smells floral and salty, sunlight and sea tangled up in the aroma of her skin.
He breathes her in.
"No dress?"
Castle asks his question quietly, finding the tiniest of pearl buttons, undressing her. He is methodical in his memorization, tactility his friend when he pauses over every little detail, like the sewn together join at her waist that has been crafted to look like flower petals. And he's not the least bit bothered either way about her answer, dress or no dress she looks exquisite, he's just curious, seeking out the mysteries of his wife.
"Didn't want to jinx it." She hums, turning in his arms with the words and stroking over his lips before he can speak. She smiles almost to herself and watches his face. Perhaps it should falter his movement or quiver his heart, stir a reaction of worry or pain, but it doesn't. Not at all.
"Still perfect," she swears, lifting up to kiss him, gifting him with the words all over again, "still so perfect." Her mouth is light against his own, her fingers moving over his heart, steady and slow, popping apart each button tenderly as she begins to undress him in return.
His fingers close in her hair, pulling loose the pins one at a time. Each removal peppered with a kiss to her lips, each button that falls from her fingers met with the same. They tease sounds from each other with the slow invitation of his tongue, with the curling sweep of hers. Arms around his neck she kisses him, hard and deep and full of everything neither of them can say for the moment. Words require separating, coming apart, a distance that neither one wants.
He finds silk beneath lace and below that skin, warm now and delightfully strokable. His journey to remap every inch of her this night only now just beginning. He smiles, and finds there is just enough space granted between each layer that he can slide his fingers in and brush over her breasts, her heart, the softest swathes that exist between each rib.
Her top falls and her bra soon after. Castle takes his time in sliding the straps down her arms, forcing their mouths apart, just to see the flare of need and want of speed in her blown apart pupils.
The loss of contact is a minor hindrance immediately eradicated by the collision of their hips, the way his thigh presses between her own eliciting a soft hitch in her breathing. It turns ragged, torn from her with joy and determination when he lifts her that extra half inch bringing them perfectly into alignment. His fingers curl in her hair, stroke her jaw and angle her head just so with the softest touch in the right direction.
Her leg curls at his thigh, foot dragging over his calf and sliding the length of his muscle so the same noise that spilled from her lips tumbles from his own and she can chase it with her kiss.
She smiles and his heart pounds, catches the reflection of his own eyes in hers, and finds himself tumbling down a never ending well of love for this woman.
His breath barely makes it beyond his lips while he stares, the rhythm suddenly a tripped up stumble through his chest that tightens his grip on her arms. It's overwhelming, to know it, to see it and feel it and have every little bit of it reflected back. Castle needs Kate to ground him because he's almost up in the clouds and floating away with excitement for what lies ahead of them, with joy for what they have finally done today.
But she's not very grounding at the moment. She's a catalyst for the end of his existence.
Castle gasps, when her eagerness for his touch drives her hands low between them, and her lips are flirting with the most deadly of smiles. His wife is devious and unrelenting.
His wife is Kate Beckett.
She's naked from the waist up and that's just not fair. He's all clean lines and roughened linens that make her mouth flood with saliva and her body clench tight with need.
His eyes rove her face as though memorizing everything, and his lips lift into the easiest of smiles. The most beautiful ones. The ones that flip her heart and make even the most cynical parts of her brain offer up fairy tale promises with every intention of keeping them. Oh, yes. She's keeping him.
Her eyes flutter shut and her mouth opens again, deeper kisses, searching, yearning kisses exploding from her lips. Just him, that's all she's ever wanted.
Just him and none of the pesky clothes between them, none of the layers or distance or missed moments, not anymore. They are claiming them all back, right here and now. This night will mark the beginning.
Kate pulls back slowly, her lips warm and wet from the taste of him and she sighs at the sight before her, her husband, ravaged and delicious. With his sleeves rolled up, the width of his chest and broad shoulders threaten the stretch of white cotton in the way that makes her legs turn to jelly.
Her fingers trail the blistering heat of skin from the hollow of his throat down past each popped apart buttonhole until he shudders into her hands. He's hers and there's no need to claim him now, no force on earth is strong enough to deny her her husband.
Her husband.
She smiles and blinks back at him as he watches. Another quick kiss and her fingers spill out, earning another gasp. The skin of his sides round to his back, playing over his spine, up to his shoulders, underneath the shirt until she's pushing it down his arms.
She had his jacket most of the night, the cool sea air catching at her skin and reminding them both it's November, but he gave it up gladly using it as an excuse to keep her near, steal some of the warmth back and hold her tight.
There is not one detail of this day that she's ever going to forget, the way he looked as she walked down the aisle, the words he spoke with sincerity and love, how he held her as they danced and the warm, familiar smell of his jacket wrapped around her forever burned into her memory.
But now it's gone and so is his shirt, she grins, slipping it from his arms as she shoves it aside, taking his hand within her own for a slow, suggestive caress along the length of his ring finger, before her own fingers fly deftly over the buckle of his pants.
She needs him bare, as bare as she yearns to be. Bare and coiled above, flush below, hard and fast behind or slow and tender at her side. She needs their bodies tight together in celebration of this day.
There is a lot of pent up joy wriggling its way through her bloodstream that she would quite enjoying unleashing on him.
His belt slips free with a whoosh of sound that will be imbedded in his mind for eternity, as will the growl of triumph she emits when her hands slip between them and find him hard, hot and ready. She tests his weight and length and hums approval that fires heated blood straight into her grip.
Her teeth nip at the edge of his neck, and that feeling, that sharp tug between desire and pain joins the list of unforgettable moments with his wife on their first night together as a married couple.
Add in her kiss, the taste of her lips as she smiles and the roll of her thumb. Add the dirty implications of the words whispered in his ears and the way she spills secrets of what she wants to do to him, what she hopes he'll do in return and how she loves him.
Add eternity because he's done for and she's his wife and how on earth did he get so lucky?
Her palms are soft as she envelops him, his own hands roughened and perfect over the cresting peaks of her nipples and a harmonized "I love you" rumbles between their lips as they smile.
She's more clothed than he is for once and Castle finds that wholly unfair. He steps out of reach of her wandering hands, kicks aside the rumpled pile of his discarded clothes and walks her backwards.
She's no longer coy and mesmerized by what they've done, at a loss for words or in awe. Kate joins him in the progression towards their bed with a growl, a hand to his hip to bring him tight with her until Castle is pressing her back to the bed. Until she's perched on the edge, and he's on his knees, the soft silken sweep of her pants gliding endlessly down her legs.
He trails a finger over the material before he casts it aside, trading one silk for another as her flesh beckons him back invitingly.
Her breath hitches when he demands she fall back further. It catches low in her lungs and struggles to get free as his lips land on the underside of her knee and he bites out into her joint his wish for her to lay down.
His mouth is hot yet there is no tease in his eyes as he watches her. Only promise. Only delight. Only the truth, that she will end this night a mess of pieces as they take each other apart with deliberation born of years of practice, theory and cleverly gathered evidence.
One touch to the pulse at her hip and her back arches, his heavy thumbs over the lowest places on her belly and she's lost, drowning in a wave of lust.
His thumbs glide, lower, lower still, under the edge of her underwear, fingernails scraping her hip bones on either side as he lifts her up and drags them off, flicking them out past her toes and dropping them gracelessly to the floor. They become another drop of white among the snow fallen cascade of her wedding attire.
"Castle?"
She has no question beyond his name and her desire for him, for him, for closer and now, please and their eyes lock when he rests his weight on the bed.
Just one knee at the edge of the mattress he catches her legs, curls his fingers at her ankles and drags her to him. Hair flaring out behind her, she gasps now, not in surprise but delight and desire, hot volcanic need coursing through her body and pooling between her legs, under the pads of his fingertips.
A whisper of a touch away from completion.
"Kate?"
His question is the same as hers, asked in the confines of the one word he will be blindly spilling into the predawn hours, for the rest of the night. For the rest of his life.
His wife.
"Kate."
Her back arches and she moans when his fingers finally dip between her lips and part her gently. Trailing over skin that glistens, with confidence and awe he slides one long, lone finger inside, the other up and over and over and over until her hips are moving to his tempo.
Her leg rises, wraps around his waist and draws him closer as she fights to hold on, fights to stay with him and not lose herself to the pounding beat.
It's slow and steady, and has her clawing the sheets within seconds, but he maintains the action for minutes, drawing it out, his own body hard, reaching and desperate for contact but Castle holds off, just a few seconds longer.
He likes to watch. Watch her like this for him, because of him. He likes to touch and Castle gives himself over to that tactile desire, finding the soft warmth and searing wet heat of her body too much of a temptation to pass up.
He draws her legs higher, opens his mouth against her calf and bites at the muscle, rubs himself against the back of her thigh and groans when she moans, desperate to be closer. Be inside her.
The fire crackles behind them, and he watches her set aglow by the flames, fascinated by the way her shadow trembles and dances when he curls his fingers inside her just so. The heat explodes over her body as she fights for grip on the sheets, her head tossed one way and then the other, her lips parting as the waves of vivid ecstasy threaten to consume her.
They rise up and tumble, crash and break with the swell of her body as she breaks around his fingers, clamping hard and moaning as the first orgasm of their married life screams, rips and tears its way out of her body in an explosion of pure, unadulterated joy.
His first name spills from her lips as she convulses on the crest of each wave, back thudding hard to the mattress, one hand flying over her face to cover her eyes as she gasps hard and finally falls flat to the bed.
It's not enough, not enough for either of them, for now or forever, or any moment in between. Their married life deserves an encore, a repeat performance, a standing ovation of rip roaring pleasure and she's gasping and smiling and purring with delight that sings through her veins and no, no, no it's nowhere near enough.
"Castle." She breathes, laughs, fights through the word, her mind muddled by bliss and her hands reaching for him. Sunset stains of red and pink prickle out over her flushed cheeks and swollen lips, her breasts and chest. Her thighs are stained with the force of his grip, red finger marks that cause her to jump in delight when he trails over them with the pad of his thumb.
She's wet and clinging to his fingers, still quivering around him when he removes them slowly, traces, trails and skims over her quivering inner walls as much as he can just to see her eyes roll back and the dirtiest curse words expel themselves from her lips.
She swears vengeance and she'll have it.
He won't even fight her on it when she wakes him with the blistering confines of her mouth, the sharp scrape of her nails and devilish curl of her hair over his stomach. He'll be exhausted and aching and married to the love of his life.
She swears vengeance and she'll have it.
Castle drags his fingers over the insides of her thighs up over her hips and finally pulls himself away from the wellspring of her desire, reaching instead for her offered hand, knotting their fingers together. Their grip slips with the evidence of her enjoyment, a heated flush bursting over her cheeks.
Castle raises her thigh, pulls her knee to his chest and slips his fingers between them to stroke himself slowly, he swipes the weight of his own arousal through hers so she arches high, and he does it again.
Not to torment but because it feels too good to abandon after one slight caress.
He repeats the movement again and again until her hips are flaring in response, her backside dancing over the sheets, her nails digging into the warm wet flesh of his palm.
"I love you." She groans and her eyes flutter wide, her smile exuberant as she shudders and shimmies, but never once does she spur him to speed up or beg he move faster, content to lose herself to the pace he sets.
They can take their time with this and each other.
He smiles back, finds her eyes, the tight grip on his control slipping steadily with each brush over her wet and waiting flesh. "I love you too."
Castle bears his weight on the knee he rests on the mattress, spreads her hips wide and aligns himself, pressing inside her the moment their eyes reconnect. He holds his breath as she engulfs him, feels her do the same, feels her tighten and relax, breathe out and yield as he sinks into her.
She moans long and low and reaches for his other hand, knotting their fingers together 'til they come to rest either side of her head and his body pounds a frantic beat from within. One shared heartbeat reverberating between them.
His eyes close as she grips him tight. She growls, a long, gravelly sound that caresses his lips as he comes in as close as he can. She curls her toes at his hips, crosses her ankles at his back and spreads her thighs to trap him between her legs, hungrily grabbing at the flesh of his back when her actions slide him just that fraction deeper.
Their eyes close but he comes back to himself quickly, releasing her hand to brush her hair from her eyes, to stare down at her until she can finally flutter her lashes open and look back at him.
Her eyes shimmer when she does, love, lust and at last all swirling in the unfathomable depths.
They kiss, their tongues dancing, mouths sweet and tasting, until they can stand it no longer and Castle begins to move.
He holds her face on each long slide out, falls into her eyes, the slow steady blink and the pink stains of her cheeks, until he slips back, trails her lower lip on each, sharp well timed thrust inside, over and over and over again, until her nails claw up and down his back, and she demands more.
She squeezes him hard from within with everything she has, aching to feel every inch of him, inside and out, flaring her nails over his ribs so that he growls and Kate reaches behind to grip his arse and drive him deeper just to hear that very same sound again.
She rolls her hips and he jerks, she arches high and strokes over her skin, they counter and match each movement and moment until the world around them disappears.
White light bursts behind her eyes, fire burns her skin from within, desperate to get out and Castle feels the dark pull of euphoric bliss swirling at the base of his spine. His body clenches, and his thrusts speed up, her hands reach and pull as she sits up and he comes for her, mounting the bed and dragging her body closer until she's in his arms and they are wrapped as tightly within each other's arms as humanly possible.
Each surge inside is met with a moan, each withdrawal a gasp and as the crescendo mounts and culminates they find each other's lips for one last kiss before oblivion takes them over.
A momentous, monumental crash of pleasure engulfs them both and they cry out each other's name in silence, no words or calls enough to describe the feelings that rip through them. Castle feels his body explode, heat through his loins surging free and pouring itself into her as he slumps over taking her body with him, trapping her beneath him as he pounds into her with everything he has.
Every ounce of strength and love he gives up to her, desperate for her to feel it all.
And she does, the moment he lets go her body shatters, blindly clawing at his skin she holds on tight as he breaks apart and breaks her apart with him. Her muscles spasm out of control, grip him hard, and the heat of him inside her is volcanic, stealing her breath and her voice all at once. Her limbs melt into his, their bodies fused together by joy and always and married, finally, at last.
He pumps into her again and again and then it repeats in a never ending cycle of bliss that she's not sure she will ever survive.
They come apart, again, together, bright and hard, fast and delirious, married, in love and happy. The light of a thousand stars not burning nearly as brightly as they do.