After they step inside the over-water bungalow on their private beachfront, it's about twenty seconds before her dress hits the floor.
"Should have figured you had an ulterior motive in getting a private beach," she gasps out as he licks a wet trail over her throat.
"You're loud in bed," he murmurs into her skin. "And in the shower. And in the kitchen. And on the cou-"
"Castle -"
He shuts her up with his tongue and then she's stumbling back, onto the bed. She swallows hard, inching back on her elbows, watching with hooded eyes as he strips off his shirt and rises over her, his eyes dark. She likes him like this. Rough. Demanding. Possessive.
The windows are wide open; she can see the water, hear the waves lapping at the shore as Castle pins her wrists to the bed and rolls his hips into hers. This place is open, exposed, and anyone outside could see exactly what she's letting him do to her and that makes her hotter, thinking about the show they could be giving someone. He licks and nips a slow, lazy path down her body, teasing her, tugging at one nipple with his teeth, rolling the other one between his thumb and forefinger. She arches against him, gasping, but he's pressing her down into the mattress with his body.
When his fingers finally, finally slide between her legs she lets out a moan. "Castle - Castle, stop teasing -"
His mouth follows his hand and her whole body jerks, a choked cry ripping from her throat. Her fists bunch in the sheets, the pillow, his hair, anything she can grab as he drives her insane with slow, deliberate licks and sucks. He knows what he's doing. He's so fucking good at this, insanely skilled at oral sex, and it's an embarrassingly short amount of time before she's straining against his mouth, begging breathlessly, and then he crooks his fingers inside her and sucks and she flies apart, coming hard under him.
When she opens her eyes again, panting hard, Castle's watching her with a smug look like he's proud of himself. She'd hate him for it if he wasn't so fucking good at this.
"Stop smirking," she manages.
He shakes his head. "It's not like that."
"What do you mean?"
He settles on the bed beside her, tracing circles over her stomach. "You remember my birthday? Remember me stuck in that wheelchair?"
"Like I could forget it."
He presses a soft kiss to her mouth; she can taste herself on his tongue and it's dizzying. "You were amazing," he murmurs.
"I know you liked your birthday present."
"No, I mean - " He kisses her again. "You were generous."
She blinks. "You mean - "
"I know there wasn't much in it for you," he whispers against her mouth. "I couldn't really - reciprocate."
"Castle. Come on." She traces the side of his face. "It's not like that."
"I know. I know." He runs his hand over her shoulder. "But you did everything for me. Everything. And now I'm going to make it good for you."
He leans over and steals her words again, kissing her long and slow and drugging, and he crawls over her body. His hands drift, and as he settles in the cradle of her hips, she lets out a long breath. "Make it good for me, huh?"
He grinds his pelvis into hers and grins evilly.
"Private beach, Kate. You're going to be loud."