Thank U Twisha for tackling this kink meme and inspiring me to also write about it... (Set before season 1) Beckett has abducted her favorite author and keeps him cuffed, tied up and or drugged in her bedroom to have her dirty way with him whenever she likes.
Please check out Twisha's story, 'Kept,' as it's amazing!
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"Don't worry, Castle. I'm not planning on hurting you," came the voice that sounded like a secret floating on the wind, - calm, tentative with an undercurrent of excitement that made him shiver with the implication. "Unless of course, you're unwilling to cooperate."
Oh God, he recognized that voice... The woman with the dirty-blond wig which swayed below her shoulders, who came to his book signing hours earlier in a Met's baseball cap, over sized man's dress shirt and black denim jeans that had seen better days. Upon first impression he thought she'd be a perfect candidate for the Television show, 'What Not To Wear,' as hidden beneath her baggy attire was a smoking body she was consciously trying to hide.
Yes, he preened, I do know women's bodies and this one (he'd be willing to bet his stocks in Marvel Comics) is hiding a perfect ten.
Upon closer inspection, she was a real beauty even devoid of all make-up. The woman's bone structure was similar to a model's, - sleek bony lines, long graceful neck, but it was the darkness in her eyes that simply captivated him, a testament to her suffering.
The author in him couldn't help wondering if she was wearing the wig due to radiation or chemo-therapy treatments, or possibly she'd been in an accident and recently had brain surgery, or maybe she was covering burns, but (and his heart twisted at the notion) most likely, she was hiding from an abusive lover / spouse.
His eyes tried to catch the hazel ones hidden behind the black wire-rimmed glasses, but they skittered away from him as she slid his latest Derrick Storm novel across the table.
"Make it out to Ka - . No, Jo please," and the way she nervously pulled on her lower lip drew his attention to her rose pink mouth.
He obviously caught her slip and with an engaging smile teased, "Kay-Jo. Such an interesting, unique nickname. Quite pretty... May I ask how you got it?"
He was surprised by how uncomfortable she became, - shifting from one foot to the other, avoiding eye contact, - as if the question itself or the sound of his voice had triggered a troubled memory.
"Nothing. It means nothing. Sorry. I meant to say Johanna. Make it out to Johanna please."
Maybe it was the way she glanced at the Exit door, or the way she checked out the security guard standing off to his right side, but he got the distinct impression that scouting out her locale was something she did on a regular basis. Her eyes quickly assessed her surroundings before landing back on him. There was something simmering beneath the surface of their multi-colored depths that intrigued him, seemed to speak to his soul... He got the impression she was hiding just how big a fan she was, and whatever he wrote in her book would mean something special to her, might even change the course of her life, - forever.
He opened the book to the title page and paused, unnerved by this woman who was waiting with baited breath for his autograph, and he found himself writing something that he'd never penned before in a fan's book.
To Johanna, a truly lovely name which means 'God is gracious'.
The Man upstairs and I have one thing in common. We both hope that all your dreams come true, in the printed word as well as reality. Don't be afraid to reach for your dreams, Jo.
Richard Castle.
As he handed her back the book, his fingertips skimmed hers which were soft and warm. His sky-blue eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected spark which traveled up his forearm.
Haunting, he thought as his eyes beheld golden flecks scattered amidst the green irises. This woman's fighting demons.
He wondered how many layers resided beneath her shell as she was clearly trying not to draw attention to herself.
"I meant what I wrote," he said sincerely, his eyes never leaving her model features.
Gina rushed up then and tapped her Rolex impatiently saying there was one more hour left and she needed him to only autograph books instead of personalizing them so he could see as many fans as possible.
A shy smile lit up her exquisite face before she breathed, "Thank you, Castle," and she clutched the book to her heart before turning away from him.
It didn't slip past him how odd it was that she called him by his last name... "Castle," had flowed from her lips in a surprisingly familiar manner, almost as if she'd been practicing saying his name over and over again.
His eyes followed her retreat and he grinned cheekily at the 4 inch heeled boots which seemed so out of place with her attire. His eyes roamed up her long legs to her ass and Shit! There was an unmistakable outline of a handgun stuffed into her jeans.
Heels and a handgun, Mmm, an unbelievably hot combination.
Her hasty departure caused an unusual longing to rise within him, - longing to go after her and stop her fleeing, - delve into her history and learn her story because he had no doubt that she was a walking/talking/breathing masterpiece-in-the-making.
He soulfully sighed as the next young fan stepped up for his autograph, because the moment was lost and the unassuming beauty would forever remain a mystery; one that he'd never have the chance to solve.
...
His shoulders were aching, pulled taut above his head. He tried rotating his wrists but found them bound by silk ties. He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly but only darkness blanketed his vision. His eyelashes swept closed behind the night mask. He relaxed, trying to ease the tension in his arms and sunk into an extremely comfortable bed. He breathed deeply, grateful that he had at least full mobility of his legs as they were not restrained.
Her voice dragged him back to full awareness... The voice of the mystery woman with a tortured soul.
"You don't need to be afraid," she said, sitting on the bed next to him, fingers trailing over his bulging bicep. "Your words fill me with hope. I'm thrilled that you're finally here with me."
She's thrilled that I'm finally with her? … And the memories rushed over him like the raging waters of Niagra Falls: Refusing a drink with Gina after his book signing. Declining the Security Guard's offer to see him to his Escalade. Walking out of the Forbidden Planet bookstore. Finding his vehicle in the 'Reserved' spot for Authors. Typing in the security code to unlock his door. Sitting in the driver's seat and seeing a flash of dull blond hair in the rear view mirror. A sharp sting to his jugular from female hands covered in leather gloves.
Then nothing.
And now?
He could hear her heavy breathing, feel the eagerness in her touch as her hands mapped out his chest, sense her overwhelming need to prove that she's in charge.
He smelled strawberries… No, it was ripe cherries filling his nostrils as her natural hair cascaded over his face.
Roaming determined fingers, hot breath, a sensual sigh.
His heart hammered as fast as a jack rabbit running away from a hunter as her lips pressed against his, tentative, tasting, - leaving him with a sense of yearning that he didn't expect as she drew back from him.
"Wha – What are you doing?" he eeked out, ashamed at sounding like a wimpy, frightened teenager.
"I'm only doing what you'd expect any woman to do to you in a bedroom... Try to relax. I promise you'll enjoy what I have planned for you."
Oh Gawd, I take it back, I take it back… he silently begged, I do not need to unravel the mystery of the crazy-hot-heeled-handgun-woman.
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jennysimonekate, I've truly missed your reviews girl and am so excited to hear from you once more.
