I hoped that he would love me,
And he has kissed my mouth,
But I am like a stricken bird
That cannot reach the south.
He pushes her back against the wall, his hands hot and heavy, suffocating her. The wood is too hard on her spine, the notches of her vertebrae bruising bone deep. She sucks in a breath through her teeth, rests her head back against the wall, tries desperately to get some oxygen into her panicked lungs.
Oxygen in, carbon dioxide out. In, out, in, out. Breathe, Kate.
His mouth is on her, travelling up her neck, across her jaw, burning. Her skin crawls, she shudders. He thinks it's with desire, laves at her pulse.
He's wearing so much cologne that she can taste it even though it's his mouth on her. She thought she liked it, once. Now she wants the heady smell of books and coffee and laughter.
His tongue pushes into her mouth, too heavy, choking her. She closes her eyes, tries desperately to pretend he's someone else.
Not just someone. Him.
She can still feel him under her hands; feel her nails scratching through his hair. She can hear the soft chuckle of the guard; hear his staccato pants of hot air into her open mouth.
And yes. Yes.
She can taste him too. Coffee and adrenaline and longing and an intense rush of want and now now now.
She kissed him back. Shit. She kissed him back. She moaned into his mouth.
Josh pulls her shirt up and over her head and off and she closes her eyes tight, tries to pretends his hands are not his but the hands she wants, the hands she knows would set her alight.
She clenches her fists, pushes them back against the wall. Josh cups her cheek in his palm until she opens her eyes. "What's wrong? You don't seem into this, babe."
A wave of nausea rushes through her, her stomach clenches and she grits her teeth. She hates being called babe. Hates it.
She shakes her head. She can't speak lest the keening cry of her fractured heart spill out unbidden. She has no choice but to kiss him, lock her hands behind his head and push her tongue into his mouth.
He slips a knee between her legs. She rocks her hips against him. He groans. She can do this if she stays detached, takes it step by step.
Insert tab A into slot B.
No feeling, no emotion. clinical. She will let him get her off and she will bite her lip as he does so Castle's name doesn't slide past her lips with an ease that she knows will leave her breathless.
Josh wraps his hands around her waist, lifts her up. She wraps her legs around his hips, nips at the skin of his neck where his pulse jumps. He hisses. "Shit, too hard babe."
She sucks on the bite mark, soothing him. Tries not to gag at the bitterness of his skin.
They make it into the bedroom and Josh settles over her, his weight asphyxiating, his mouth a noose at her throat. She closes her eyes, fists her hands in the sheets, lets him love her.
Afterwards, she shifts the dead weight of his arm from her stomach and stands trembling in the shower. She washes the evidence of Josh from her skin, leaves Castle wrapped around her heart.
She dreams of him and her and kisses that don't end in her having to knock a guy out.
For though I know he loves me,
Tonight my heart is sad;
His kiss was not so wonderful
As all the dreams I had.
- The Kiss, Sara Teasdale