Set in the future. Established Caskett. First try at M rated fic. Prompted by Beckett's line "We should go to the tracks sometimes, Castle. See you laps who." Not sure how it went.
Warning : I know nothing about muscle cars. And it's M... already said that... Also, there's no plot.
Disclaimer : Castle's not mine.
Castle never forgot that little line about muscle cars and "who laps who". So the first time he brings Beckett, as his girlfriend, to the Hamptons, he is very happy to show what's parked in his garage.
"Oh. my. God! A Gran Torino 351C-4V "Cobra-Jet" engines!" She exclaimed upon seeing the dark blue car.
"Hu-huh." He's enjoying the sparkles in her eyes as she gives the car the once over. "Want to drive?" He dangles the key on his finger. She snags them instantly.
"Hell yeah!"
He chuckles and climbs in the passenger seat. Soon, they are speeding through the most deserted roads of the Hamptons. It's still early spring, the season hasn't started yet. It takes two hours for Beckett to accept to go back to the house.
She drives the car in the garage, cuts the engine. She doesn't get out, though. Neither does he. She's caressing the wheel tenderly. He observes her. The tension in her body, the movement of her hands on the leather, the bite of her lips. She's so sexy he can barely take it.
"You don't want to leave the car, do you?" His voice is hoarse. He clears his throat.
She nods without looking at him.
"Well, you can stay. I'm just not sure you'd be very comfortable sleeping here," he jokes.
She doesn't laugh. It wasn't that funny anyway. But she looks at him, up and down, with a glint in her eyes. Then a blush appears on her cheeks.
"What?" He so wants to know what she was thinking. A coy look. He got it. She's thinking about... He pounces on her sideways before the idea could be dismissed. They kiss hungrily and she pushes him back in his seat. She finds herself in his lap, panting, flesh flushed, his hands underneath her top. They stare into each other eyes. Castle doesn't dare speak.
"Close the garage door," she orders.
He's not about to argue. He reaches blindly for the remote, eyes locked on hers. The room darkens. Only some strays of lights seeps through the little windows in the back. He can still see her and he's glad. Especially when she's getting rid of her top in one swift move. She throws it somewhere. He doesn't care, she's topless in his lap, in a muscle car. He claims her mouth again, hands roaming all over. She kisses him back fiercely. She wiggles on top of him, sending delicious jolt of pleasure to his groin. Her hands are restless, from his hair to his shirt. Her thighs squeeze his and he has to grab her ass. He has to.
"Kate. We're really doing this?"
She doesn't answer. At least not with words, but she's working on his belt and zipper, so he guesses they really are. He quickly gets on board with the plan, sliding his fingers under her skirt (he loves skirts) and tugging at her underwear.
Except they are both tall. Too tall. And he's to big for this narrow seat. He bumps his elbows and arm and knees everywhere. Is it worth it? She finally managed to open his pants and her fingers are wrapped around his length. 'Oh yes! So worth it!,' he thinks.
They kiss turned sloppy a long time ago. Both are quivering with anticipation. It's awkward and bumpy. They're gonna have bruises. She wriggles to get her underwear out of the way. He gave up the idea of getting his own clothes off. Eventually, she's back on his lap, facing him. He sneaks one hand between them, the other gripping her hip. He teases her with his fingers until she gasps, her head falling to his shoulder. He chuckles but stops short when she retaliates. Their wrists bumped when she comes to pump his length again.
"Who's laughing now?" She asks, breathless.
He turns his head to kiss her.
"You, always you."
Satisfied with his answer, she sits up a little before descending, burying him inside of her. Both moan loudly. He gives her some time to adjust, but she's the one who starts moving first. Efficient ups and downs that drive him crazy. He's meeting thrust for thrust, groaning. She's not doing a better job at keeping it quiet. They really don't need to, but it's a habit, with Martha and Alexis usually around when they stay at the loft.
"Harder, Castle," she pants against his mouth.
"Trying," he pants back. It's not like if he has a lot of leverage in the cramped car. He tries a harder push and her head nearly collide with the roof.
"Okay, not that hard," she smiles. She now has one hand flat on the roof and his face is leveled with her breasts.
"Uh-huh," he mumbled as he starts sucking on one nipple.
They start moving again, slowly building up their rhythm. He can barely keep up and breath, so he gave up his ministrations on her breast and just watches her above him. She's concentrating, flushed and eyes closed. He knows from the sound she's making that she is closed.
"Come on," he encourages.
She opens her eyes, looking down into his as she tips over the edge. He follows close behind, her name on his lips. She collapses on him and stays there until she's feeling like moving again.
When she sits up, he's grinning, still catching his breath.
"So, how happy are you with your new car?" She asks.
"What?"
She raises an eyebrow. "When did you buy the car?" Her tone is accusatory.
"What? I've had it for a while."
"Rick," she warns.
"Last week, when you agreed to come this week-end," he mumbles.
She bends down to bit his earlobe.
"Amazing investment," she whispers saucily.
The end.