Author's Note: I decided that Castle and Beckett's first trip to the Hamptons in "Accidentally in Love" needed some more fluff and smut, although this should stand alone as there really isn't any plot. So without further ado, a smutty insert to Chapter 36 of "Accidentally in Love."

For Mobazan27—and with a tip of the hat to the brilliant Garrae for the inspiration for a couple lines in this story.

Hamptons Interlude

Kate wondered in passing if it would be possible to take a little nap because she was tired. She probably hadn't gotten enough sleep last night and even though she was in good shape, spending the last few hours in the pool frolicking with Castle and Alexis had still been a workout, especially after they had spent the morning at the beach too. Also, it had become apparent that the 9-year-old had more energy than she did.

A smile curved her lips at the memories because in spite of her tiredness, it had been a good day, almost a perfect day really.

She rotated her head to loosen the muscles of her neck and was just about to slip off her swimsuit when the bathroom door opened and Castle slipped inside, his eyes lighting at the sight of her.

"Hey," she started to greet him but any other words she might have said were cut off on a gasp as he didn't spare any time or breath on talking but immediately reached for her, tugging her against him and kissing her hotly, his tongue surging into her mouth.

She kissed him back—it wasn't as if she could ever resist his kiss, her head falling back on a moan as he left off kissing her mouth to drag his lips down her chin and then onwards, leaving a string of soft, damp kisses along the curve of her neck, pausing to press his tongue against her pulse point.

Oh god…

"Where's… Alexis?" she managed to gasp. It sounded vaguely wrong to say Alexis's name like that, in such breathy tones, but really it was his fault. How was she supposed to retain control of her voice when his mouth was busily wreaking havoc on her senses?

"I sent her to shower," he mumbled against her skin. "God, Kate, do you have any idea how hard it's been to keep my hands off you today? Seeing you in a swimsuit…"

She smirked in spite of herself. "Hard, huh?" she hummed, sliding one hand in between them to cup his already hardening length through his swim trunks. "I think I can guess."

He gave a strangled laugh, his hand sliding into the top of her bathing suit, his fingers finding her already taut nipple.

"Cas-sle," she moaned in protest as his hand slid out of her bathing suit.

"Mm," he mumbled, his hands now busying themselves with the straps of her suit, sliding them down off her shoulders. Oh right, good idea. She moved to help him but he swatted her hands away. "I've been waiting to do this all day, since I saw you. I couldn't wait to peel this suit off you…" he murmured against her skin as he suited action to the words, letting his mouth teasingly touch random places of her skin as he bared them but deliberately avoiding her breasts or any other more erotic area.

Her swimsuit pooled on the floor at her feet.

"And then I wanted to get down on my knees," he husked against her neck.

Oh lord. The mental image of it, of him on his knees—combined with the memory of his focused, intent expression whenever he looked at her, used his mouth on her—made her moan, her thighs already quivering. He hadn't even touched her there yet and she was soakingly wet, her knees feeling shaky.

Bed—no, not bed, too far. Wall, that would do. She already knew there was no way her legs would retain the ability to hold her up once Castle got to work.

"Shower," she panted.

He understood, immediately stripping off his swim trunks, and they stumbled backwards, kissing frantically, as he backed her into the shower.

He left off kissing her mouth and she emitted a little whine of frustration that turned into a moan as he only moved on to leave a string of kisses down her neck, nipping gently at her collarbone.

One of his hands left her to blindly reach out for the shower knob, turning on the water, and they both jumped a little, sputtering a laugh as the spray of warm water hit their faces.

She shifted out of the spray, ending up with her back against the cool tiles, as his hands cupped her cheeks, a faint smile, almost a smirk, curving his lips. "Soap now or later?"

She smiled back. "Don't you mean, should we get dirty first?"

She deliberately put a naughty twist on the word, dirty, and he huffed a laugh. "Clever, Beckett." He leaned in closer until his body was brushing hers—well, one part of his body was more insistent than that—and husked, "I like the way you think."

The air in the shower was getting thick with both steam and arousal and she heard herself pant as he finally put his hands on her body, chasing the water droplets down her stomach, as he lowered his head to the slope of her breast. She felt the heat of his breath over her nipple, making it harden even more, if that was possible, and then finally, he closed his lips around the taut peak, swirling his tongue around it and then—oh god—grazing it with his tongue, sending fire shooting along her nerve endings, pooling low in her stomach.

He moved on to give the same ministrations to her other breast and all the while, it seemed as if his hands were everywhere, touching her everywhere he could reach, mapping every valley and curve—her back, her shoulders, her butt, her hips, her thighs.

Not that her hands were any less eager, greedily exploring the muscles of his chest, his broad shoulders, his back, his wonderful ass. God, he was so strong. She loved that about him, she thought fuzzily, loved that he was tall, bigger than her, that his body could cover hers so completely, engulf her. Shelter her. She might not need protecting but she loved that he made her feel safe.

She sagged back against the wall, her thighs falling open as his hands caressed first the outside of her thighs and then slid inwards but did not touch her where she so desperately wanted him to, at least not yet. "Cas-sle," she panted. "Please."

"Hmm?" he hummed against her breast. "Please what?" As if he didn't know, damn the man.

"Touch me," she demanded—or meant to demand but her voice came out on something like a whimper that she would have been embarrassed about if she had more brain power left.

"Here?" He delicately swiped one finger lightly, teasingly, against her wet center before removing it.

"God, yes," she groaned, honestly not sure how she was still upright, her skin burning so hot it was vaguely surprising the water wasn't evaporating on contact, her thighs quivering with need.

She clutched his shoulders as he sucked again on her sensitized nipple and then muffled her cry against his neck as he finally, finally touched her for real, sliding one hand between her thighs, his fingers playing over her wet folds, circling the bud at the center.

Her eyes rolled back in her head at the onslaught of blinding pleasure, the coil of arousal winding tighter and tighter, but just as she sensed it about to snap, his hand left her abruptly. Her eyes and her mouth opened on a protest but before she could so much as make a sound, he was doing what he'd said he would and dropping to his knees before her.

Oh god…

He paused for what seemed like a small eternity, his hands gripping her hips but otherwise not moving, not touching her.

"Castle…" She was panting, half-sobbing with want and need, desperate for him.

It seemed like an hour—an hour of torture—but was probably only a few seconds before he leaned in, first dropping a delicate kiss on her inner thigh, mere centimeters away from where she really wanted him, and then—oh god—finally—kissed her there. Kissed and licked and swirled his tongue over her—ohyesjustlikethatCastle—and then sucked…

And she was gone, the world dissolving around her, drowning in a tidal wave of physical bliss. Her toes curled, her mouth opened on a scream that didn't have the breath to make a sound, her head fell back against the tiles with a thump that might have been painful if every nerve in her body hadn't been entirely centered down there, where his lips and his tongue were devastating her.

She drifted back to earth slowly, vaguely surprised to realize that she was still standing, although it was probably only thanks to the wall at her back and his hands gripping her. At some point, he had stood up again and his face was now hovering inches above hers, his eyes dark with arousal.

"I love that," he husked.

Mmm, so did she… But any words—or real coherent thought—was beyond her so all she could do was tug him in so she could kiss him, a little moan getting caught in her throat as she tasted herself on his tongue. God, how was that so hot?

His erect body was nudging against her, their bodies slick and sliding against each other thanks to the water, and she almost rose up on her toes, her hands grasping his shoulders as she sought more friction, more touching, more of him. One of his hands slipped around to cup her butt while the other slid under her thigh, lifting, until the tip of him was sliding against her. She choked on a moan as she tried to shift, get closer—and then he was gone, abruptly releasing her.

Uh, what? She blinked at him. If he was trying to torture her—more, again—she might just have to kill him.

Instead he looked as if he were the one being tortured, his features strained. "Wait, wait," he choked. "I don't have a condom," he gasped.

She blinked, the words sinking slowly into her befuddled mind. Oh. Oh. She'd… forgotten. Completely. Insanely.

"We could just… improvise," he suggested.

Crazily, amazingly, a bubble of amusement welled up inside her and escaped on a huff of a laugh. "Improvise," she repeated. Oh, she knew she would like his improvising. Her eyes dipped down to his rampant body, her mouth going dry. He would like her improvising too.

But no—she shifted her weight, conscious of the hollow sort of ache between her thighs.

"I'm protected. And clean."

He stared at her, water droplets dripping down his face, the steam in the air somehow not detracting from the intensity of his eyes. "Me too but—"

"I trust you," she interrupted him, the words coming before she'd consciously realized, the decision made. And even though she'd never done this before, with him, she didn't care. She trusted him. Not that she thought all that at the moment, that came later. Now, all she knew was that she didn't care; she just wanted him. Wanted him inside her, filling her, stretching her.

He stepped in closer, one hand coming up to cup her cheek. "You're sure?"

She nodded rapidly. "I just want you." And then she kissed him, her hand curving around the back of his neck, as she arched against him.

He groaned into her mouth, a rumble of sound in his chest, and then he was back, his hands sliding down her back to her butt, lifting her even as he thrust forward in one smooth move, and then he was sliding inside her, so hot and solid and—oh god—perfect…

She desperately tried to suck in air, panting against his shoulder, as she clutched at the slick surface of his back, his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his hips. Then he began to move, rocking his body into hers. She moaned, urging him on with her hands and her lips, and then everything—all the overwhelming physical sensations—dissolved into a blur and all she knew was him, his tongue in her mouth, his hands on her body, his hips rolling, slamming into her...

Until everything coalesced and then exploded in dizzying spasms of overwhelming pleasure.

Kate let her head fall back against the tiles as she waited for her legs to regain the ability to hold her up on their own power. Castle was slumped against her, over her, his solid body and the wall the only things keeping her upright. His face was buried in her shoulder, his breath wafting over her skin, and then, she felt him press his lips to her skin in a mere brush of a kiss.

Mm, she loved this, loved him.

It was a little while before she managed to straighten up, no longer feeling quite so shaky. He felt her motion and lifted his head in turn.

She felt a small faint smile curve her lips as their eyes met. It was kind of amazing, well maybe not, how good he looked even with his hair wet and plastered to his head, his blue eyes dark and still a little dazed. She had to clear her throat a little before she managed, "So, um, we should probably shower for real."

"I'll help," he volunteered.

Oh, she had no doubt of that. "It'll be faster if we wash ourselves," she tried to protest but the words sounded weak even to her own ears.

He only smirked faintly before he poured shampoo into his palm. "Turn around."

She did but added, "Don't get too used to telling me what to do."

He clicked his tongue against his cheek as he started to shampoo her hair. "I wouldn't dream of it, Beckett."

Her eyes fell closed and she briefly considered the merits of trying to persuade Castle to become a professional hair dresser because mm, that felt good, his strong fingers in her hair, massaging her scalp.

Although maybe it was less about the actions than the knowledge that it was him. Certainly her own hands never felt so good shampooing herself.

Afterwards, she ducked under the spray to rinse her hair before turning to him. "Your turn."

A smile tugged at his lips as he obeyed, dipping his knees a little to give her easier access.

She was changing her mind entirely on the merits of shared showers to wash each other because there was something oddly erotic about doing this for Castle, the look on his face, his eyes closed, his mouth parted. Or again, maybe it was just because it was him.

When he turned to face her again, there was a gleam of intent in his eyes so she wasn't surprised that his use of soap to wash her body turned into an exercise in sensuality, his slick, soapy hands sliding, caressing every inch of her body with deliberate, leisurely care until her legs were once more starting to feel weak and shivery beneath her, her breath coming fast and shallow.

He did not touch her between her thighs and she opened her mouth to protest but he nudged her back under the shower spray and she sputtered a little as instead she got a faceful of water. She blinked the water out of her eyes and glared at him, without much heat admittedly, at the smile he quirked.

Both his smile and her glare faded as she shifted away from the shower spray again and now, finally, his now-clean hands slid down to caress her hips and then slipped between her thighs, at first so lightly she might have thought it was accidental, but then she saw his face.

She was suddenly reminded of his expression when he was writing; he had the same single-minded intensity of focus on his face now as he touched her, his fingers exploring her wet folds as if he was trying to learn or memorize all over again the way to touch her.

This was what sex with Richard Castle was like. It was an absurd thought—after all, she'd been sleeping with Castle for weeks—but now, having seen him writing, it just struck her all over again. The look on his face, his concentration, as if she was the only thing in the world he cared about, giving pleasure to her his only goal…

A second finger joined the first in sliding inside her, caressing her more deeply. Her breath fractured in her lungs, the coil of heat and pleasure winding tighter and tighter.

The sensual edge to his expression as he focused made her think, reminded her… His books weren't overly explicit for obvious reasons but there had been a few scenes between Derrick Storm and Clara Strike that had made her feel a little over-heated. He must have looked like this when he wrote the sex scenes too.

She didn't know why but that was the thought that pushed her over the edge, the coil of tension snapping, flinging her into blissful oblivion. Again.

Kate sagged back against the wall, panting, the coolness of the tiles against her over-heated skin providing a measure of relief. God, what this man could do to her.

She had to blink a couple times to clear the sensual haze from her eyes to see Castle watching her and something about his expression made her heart flutter in her chest in a way that had nothing to do with her physical reaction. He didn't look cocky or smug about his effect on her (even if he had reason to be, not that she would tell him so). No, he looked… almost awed, as if he was the lucky one to be able to touch her like this.

She was the lucky one, to be with this man.

And she abruptly needed to show him, do something to somehow even the scale. That, and she just wanted to.

"My turn," she husked before she leaned in and brought his mouth to hers, kissing him long and deep.

When the kiss ended, she was the one to lather up her hands with soap and wash his body, taking full advantage of the chance to appreciate Castle's build, his broad chest, muscular arms, strong back, and yes, his butt and the part of his body that she was glad to see was... reviving under her ministrations.

She took some special care in soaping that part of his body, enjoying the sensation of sliding her hands, slippery with soap, over him.

His hips jerked. "Ka-ate," he groaned.

She slanted a look of mock innocence at him from under her lashes. "What, I'm just trying to ensure you're not dirty."

She put a deliberately wicked intonation in her voice on the last word and he choked on a laugh even as he shifted to stand under the shower spray and she chased the water rinsing the soap off his body with her hands in light, teasing caresses.

He wasted no time once the soap was gone to step out of the path of the spray and she followed.

"Now, where was I?" she hummed teasingly, letting her fingers wander, trace his now fully-erect length.

His head fell back against the wall on a groan and then with a last swipe of her hand over him, she dropped to her knees and went to work with her mouth and her tongue. Returning the favor until his hips were jerking and incoherent noises were spilling from his throat and then he was exploding with a strangled groan.

She stood up, ridiculously pleased with herself to see the dazed, blissed-out expression on his face. She waited him out, resting against him and placing tiny butterfly kisses to his cheek and his chin and his jaw.

He was blinking rapidly, still discombobulated, and she took a measure of pity on him—and also a little niggle of sanity returned, reminding her that they had left Alexis alone.

She brushed a last kiss against his mouth. "I'm going to go change and check on Alexis," she offered quietly.

"Mm hmm," he managed. "I'm going to, um, try to find my knees."

Oh god, he was adorable.

She allowed herself a small smirk and patted his chest lightly. "Okay, you do that," she murmured, kissing him again, for the last time, really.

And then she tore herself away, stepping out of the shower, leaving him to recover his wits.

Drying herself off and getting dressed allowed her to recover too, steadying her, before she went to check on Alexis.

Knowing the girl, Kate really didn't imagine Alexis had gotten into any trouble and as it turned out, she found Alexis innocently brushing her wet hair in her room, having finished her own shower.

Alexis smiled at her. "Hi, Kate. Did you shower too?"

Kate managed not to blush. "Yes. Your dad is in the shower now so I thought we could head down to the kitchen and see what we want to have for dinner."

"Okay, that sounds good to me," Alexis agreed cheerfully.

And that was exactly what they did, trooping down to the kitchen and pulling out the ingredients for a dinner of pasta with chicken and vegetables before Castle joined them.

There was a private glimmer in the smile he gave her, although outwardly, he was giving most of his attention to Alexis.

Kate's answering smile lingered on her lips for the rest of the evening. She was just… happy. Happy and in love with this man, this family.

~The End~

A/N 2: Thank you to all readers and reviewers.