Title: Any Excuse
Rating: Do I really need to bother with this?
Summary: He'll take any excuse to treat her like a goddess.
Disclaimer: Again, do I really need to bother?
Dedication: To Vesja. Happy Anniversary! You were my first friend on this site, and you've been nothing but a great friend since. This is for you, my dear! The best is yet to come, I'm sure!
He loves her like this.
Well, let's be honest, he loves her all the time, any time, no matter what she's doing. He loves when she's thinking hard, her forehead creased slightly and her tongue between her teeth, just barely peeking out from between her lips. He loves when she's playful, giggling at him, her eyes bright and shining as they gaze out at him from beneath her long lashes. He loves when she's all cop, her eyes blazing and her mouth set, her body straight and rigid.
Of course, being the red-blooded male that he is (and quite healthy for his age, thank you very much), when he finds something that he loves about Kate, he generally gets the urge to touch her, as well.
He doesn't need a reason – he just wants to. But tonight he has an excellent excuse tonight to touch her as much as he wants to, run his hands over her body, taste her on his tongue until his head is filled with her and only her.
Six months. He's gotten to be with Kate Beckett for six months. He has absolutely no idea how he came to be so lucky, and every other day he wakes up with a feeling of slight disbelief working through his veins. It's amazing. They've had their arguments, their issues, but everything else has been worth it. Despite their pact to keep their relationship a secret, she's let him wine and dine her on several occasions. They've even made dinner at his place a few times. Who knew that the detective known by her first name at all the takeout places near her apartment was actually a fabulous cook?
He really had no idea.
Now all he can do is try and show her how much she means to him. She is his everything. Muse, goddess, best friend, lover, partner… every day he thinks of new ways to describe her. He doesn't know how he lived without her, and if he lost her now he's pretty sure his heart might just stop.
She's not usually one for showy anniversaries, but this is the most significant relationship she's had in, well, ever, and she knows how much this means to him. She let him take her out to a show on Broadway, and they even went out dancing (Kate Beckett with her long legs, twirling on the dance floor – it was enough to make him drool) and now they're back in his loft and she's letting him tie her to the bed.
Tie her to the bed. Kate. Tied. To the bed.
Holy fucking shit.
This is the first time she's let him do something like this, and the significance of this has not escaped him. Letting someone have control over you, being put at their mercy… that's slightly intimidating for anyone. But for the woman who clings to every shred of control like a lifeline, it's nothing short of a leap of faith.
The fact that she is willing to take such a leap for him does crazy things to his libido, and makes his heart stutter just a little.
"Castle…" He's never seen her so wanton, so breathy and lost in a haze of arousal. He's kept her on edge for the last however many minutes, but he's far from finished yet.
He leans down and sucks at her neck, nipping and licking slowly as he works his way down her body. He can't resist slipping a nipple into his mouth, sucking and grazing it lightly with his teeth. Kate arches under him, her arms straining fruitlessly against the silk ties holding her. He grins against her skin and keeps moving south.
The smell of her assaults his nostrils and he becomes a little lightheaded. She smells a little like cherries, but with something darker as well, like rich wine and dark chocolate, and definitely all Beckett. He remembers the time she slipped a pair of her underwear in his pocket before he left for a meeting with Paula. He was half-hard all fucking day long.
Dipping down, he takes in a deeper whiff of her, placing his hands on the inside of her thighs and massaging slightly. He begins to place kisses on her thighs, sucking at a spot just below where he knows she wants him, his teeth coming out to nip at her. Kate arches again, her hips snapping up of their own accord. He doesn't have to look up to know that she's gritting her teeth. He chuckles, low and dark, because he just loves this. Scratch that – he loves her.
Finally, he's finished with teasing. He gently spreads her legs apart just a bit farther, and she obliges him. Then he's in her, finding her clit and working her, alternating between that and curling his tongue into her. She tastes even better than scotch.
It takes about two seconds for her to start moaning, curses and shouts of his name getting forced out no matter how hard she clenches her jaw. He honestly thought that it would be harder to get the straight-laced detective to be vocal, but Kate surprised him. She is loud, although not so proud about it outside of the bedroom. It's a special fantasy of his to try and get her off in a semi-public area, just to see if she can keep herself quiet.
He's spent enough time working on her that it won't take long to send her over the edge. So he proceeds with caution, speeding up when she begins to go slack and slowing down when he feels her ripple and clench.
"Rick." It starts out demanding but trails off into a moan as he slips a finger into her.
He'd reply, but he was raised not to talk with his mouth full so he responds with a hum instead. The sound reverberates through her, and he can feel her trembling all around him. He knows that it's only a matter of time before she falls apart no matter what he does, so he speeds up, trying to give her the most earth-shattering climax she's ever had.
What can he say? He loves a challenge, and he especially loves giving her what she wants.
While Kate is pretty vocal, he's never heard her all-out scream before. He feels it just before it happens, her passage clenching around him wildly just before he hears the shout tear itself out of her throat, ripping into the air and he swears that a chorus of angels would pale in comparison to the beauty of that sound. Her thighs grip his head, squeezing instinctively and she pulls ferociously against the ties.
She gushes onto his tongue, filling his mouth with the salty, tangy and oddly sweet flavor that is as singular as the rest of her. He laps her up, waiting for her to stop milking his fingers before he withdraws from her body. The look in her eyes is an astounding combination of feral and lazily satisfied, and he wants to drown in their hazel depths forever.
Kate murmurs something, but her voice is clogged with leftover lust and her throat is working dryly and the words don't quite reach his ears.
He gently unties her, massaging her wrists as he releases them, kissing each fingertip. "What was that?" He asks.
"I love you." The words are a contended sigh carried out on her breath.
He freezes.
She reaches up, wrapping her arms around his neck and tugging him down. "Are you gonna just goggle at me, or are you gonna kiss me, Castle?"
He wakes up then, the euphoria striking him like a slap of cold water and he kisses her hungrily, hitching one of her legs up. Kate makes a hum of appreciation.
"Happy Anniversary." She whispers, the words sliding into his ear as he slides into her.
He can't wait to see what the next six months hold.
While this was written for the anniversary of meeting my dear friend, as of November 7th Caskett has been together for six months. All Hail Caskett!