Kate Beckett stood in the bedroom, watching her husband watch her. He hadn't spoken since he had taken her hand and led her in here, the promise of "naked punishment" hanging heavy in the air.
Her body was already tingling, electric with anticipation, and it wasn't just because she knew how good he would make her feel. It was a kind of catharsis she sought, which she knew she would get from whatever Castle was about to do.
Her shoulders drooped slightly as she remembered him saying that she liked being broken. He must be right; a normal, mentally healthy woman wouldn't be craving punishment the way she was, would she?
"Stop thinking so loudly," Castle ordered, his voice low and gravelly, and she shivered. She loved that tone, the one he used when he slipped into his dominant persona for the dark games they sometimes liked to play. Once in a while, here in the safe haven of their bedroom, she needed him to take control.
She tried to clear her mind of everything that had happened over the past few days, and focus only on Castle. Her husband, her love, her salvation. She watched him anxiously as his eyes moved across her body and then away.
"Strip," he said after a moment, and her body jerked in automatic response, her hands moving immediately to loosen and undo and remove her clothing. In seconds she was naked, standing in a small puddle of fabric.
Castle went to the closet and reached up to the top shelf, taking down a box, the mere sight of which made Beckett shiver again. Moisture was already staining the insides of her bare thighs; her nipples were painfully tight.
From the box came a pair of heavily padded cuffs. She couldn't restrain a moan at the sight. Castle walked back over to her, still fully clothed. He hadn't touched her, kissed her, anything, since they entered the room. His expression was carefully blank, a mask.
"Tell me your safeword, Kate," he instructed, quietly, but still with that hard note of command. Her knees were weak, struggling to hold her up.
"Lavender," she whispered. His expression didn't change, but he jerked his chin toward the bed.
"On your back."
She crawled onto the bed and lay down. Without being told, she raised her arms over her head and spread her legs. She knew that he could see and smell how aroused she already was.
Castle put one knee on the bed and loomed over her, hooking the cuffs onto the ring on the headboard and fastening them securely around her wrists. She tugged lightly at the restraints, twisting her hips from side to side. He simply watched her, and didn't ask whether the cuffs were too tight. He knew her body language, her physical reactions, well enough to judge that for himself.
That thought, the reminder of how well he knew her and could anticipate her every response, brought an unexpected surge of sorrow and she closed her eyes briefly, her mouth twisting downward. "Castle," she whispered, despairing.
"Open your eyes, Beckett," he said coolly. She obeyed, and saw him still kneeling above her, studying her. His expression was still entirely neutral; she couldn't read anything in his face. She could only trust him.
He trailed his fingers feather-light over the new scar on her ribcage, crooked and crude where she had stitched it up herself. "Does this still hurt?" he asked quietly. Shivering at his touch, she shook her head.
"No."
"Good."
Castle stood up again and quickly removed his own clothing. She watched, licking her lips hungrily as his beautiful body came into view. God, how she loved that body, every inch of it. Some inches more than others, of course.
He was back on the bed again then, leaning over her, bringing his mouth to her breast and biting down on one nipple while his fingers pinched the other, hard. She cried out and arched up against him, seeking more, more, more. Her throat was dry and rough from repeating that word.
But he didn't give it to her. After only a moment of playing roughly with her breasts, he pulled back, kneeling between her spread legs. He used his own lower legs to pin her ankles down, holding her in place, open and wet and throbbing. She gasped his name pleadingly, but he didn't react.
He trailed one hand up the inside of her thigh, fingers kneading strongly, and before she had a chance to wonder whether he was going to end up where she wanted him, he was there. His thick fingers parted her and stroked, hard and confident, in just the right spot. He watched with almost clinical detachment as she writhed and moaned under his touch. She felt her pleasure building, building toward its peak.
She knew that he could edge her for hours, keep her tied up and begging without release for as long as he wanted. They had played that game before. But something in his manner told her that wasn't what he had in mind tonight.
She was already aching, her inner muscles clenching, desperate for something to slide inside. A finger - two fingers - his erection, which was right there in her line of sight. She wanted it inside her so badly. She strained against the cuffs, trying to push herself against him.
But again he stopped; he removed his hand and wiped his wet fingers on her thigh, and stood up. He went for the box again and sat on the edge of the bed, putting the box on the floor where she couldn't see it.
She lay there panting, flushed, feeling the incipient burn in the muscles of her shoulders from pulling at the restraints. She forced herself to ease off, to loosen the tension in her arms while she watched Castle's every movement.
He leaned over and took something from the box, lifted it up into her line of sight. It was the set of nipple clamps they had gotten for their second Valentine's Day. She gasped raggedly when she saw them, dangling suggestively from his hand.
"Do you want me to put these on you?" Castle asked, low-voiced, his eyes boring into her.
She took another quick breath and answered by rote, obedience trained into her over a number of similar scenes. "Whatever you want."
But he looked at her oddly, and shook his head. "No," he said slowly. "This isn't that kind of game, Kate. You need to say what you want. The truth."
She was silent, confused. Her body thrummed with desire, fogging her brain, and she didn't know what to say.
"Do you want me to put these on you?" he asked again, patiently, but with an edge of danger to his tone. She felt his voice all the way through to her core.
She was already imagining that she could feel the clips on her nipples, squeezing tightly. She was already almost feeling the bright, sharp pain, the way she would writhe against her bonds in a futile effort to squirm away from the excruciating bite of the sharp metal. She could already almost feel the powerful flood of pleasure when the clips finally released. "Yes," she gasped frantically, "yes."
Castle was still watching her with that dark gaze. He set the nipple clamps down on the bed next to him, and reached into the box again. This time he came out with a small wooden paddle.
"Do you want me to use this on you?"
She still didn't understand this new scene, but this time she didn't hesitate to answer honestly. "Yes." She could already almost feel how the hard wood would smack against her flesh, the shock of the initial sting, then the spreading burn.
He put the paddle down next to the nipple clamps, and held up his hand in her line of sight, fingers spread wide. "Do you want me to spank you with my hand?"
"Yes," she begged, "Castle, please." When would he stop asking and start doing?
"Do you want me to pull your hair?" he went on. "Do you want me to hold you down and fuck you till you can't move?"
"Yes. God, yes, please." Her breathing was ragged and desperate, her whole body burning, yearning with desire just from his words. She struggled to slow her heartbeat down, to steady her breathing as she stared at her husband.
He studied her for a moment, then slowly shook his head.
"No," he said. She blinked, bemused.
"Castle…"
"No," he repeated, and swept the nipple clamps and the paddle off the bed with one arm. He climbed onto the bed and hovered over her, holding her gaze.
"The pain isn't erotic when you think you deserve it," he said quietly. "I'm not going to hurt you today, Kate."
Reaching up, he detached the cuffs from the headboard and brought her hands down, still cuffed together. He lifted them over his head, settling her arms around his neck.
He lay down on his side next to her, wrapping one broad palm around her waist and pulling her onto her side as well, facing him. His hand slid down the back of her thigh and drew her leg up over his hip. She watched his face, trembling slightly. She felt a little fearful, nervous, not knowing what he was doing, what he was going to do; but she trusted him, completely.
"You want me to hurt you because it's the easy way out," he said, his lips brushing her forehead. "You want me to be angry so that you can be angry at yourself. It's easier to take the pain than to accept the truth."
He reached between their bodies and she felt the tip of his erection nudging at her entrance. She gasped as he tilted his hips and slid partway inside.
She felt incredibly vulnerable in this position: her arms imprisoned around Castle's neck, her thigh draped over his hip holding her open for him, their faces inches apart.
"What truth?" she dared to ask, her voice coming out a tremulous whisper. The slow slide of him inside her was torturous, dragging pleasure along every nerve, reminding her of how close she was to the edge.
His hand roamed across her back, caressing, and then slid down to cup her ass, pulling her hips closer to him. He rocked steadily, pressing all the way in, slow and hot.
"The truth is that I forgive you, Kate," he murmured as he moved against her. "I love you, and I forgive you."
The words sent shocks through her body and, to her dismay, she found tears slipping down her cheeks.
"Castle," she choked out, ducking her chin down toward her chest, squeezing her eyes shut. She felt his lips brushing the top of her head.
"Look at me," he said, softly, but with just enough steel behind it that she knew she couldn't disobey. She drew in a deep shuddering breath and lifted her chin again, blinking open wet eyes to find his. He gazed at her, his forehead creased slightly, his eyes burning with sincerity.
"I love you," he said again. "I forgive you."
A sob escaped her throat. Her body instinctively tried to pull away, to curl into itself, but she couldn't. Her hands were still cuffed behind his neck, and his own hand was still on her ass holding her in place, his entire length inside her, filling her. She couldn't get away, and the involuntary movement only served to slide him against her nerves again. Her body shuddered with pleasure even as another wave of tears filled her eyes.
For a desperate moment she almost thought of using her safeword, and then he rocked against her again and she shattered. The orgasm ripped through her body, slow and powerful. She was dimly aware of a long moan breaking free from her mouth as she quaked in Castle's arms.
As the spasms subsided, she heard him whispering love into her ear; he was still moving, thrusting shallowly into her, his free hand roaming her skin, his lips pressed to her temple. She felt the moment when he stilled, holding himself inside her, and his body jerked against hers, then relaxed.
She was trembling, her cheeks damp, and with a jolt she realized that she had actually considered safewording out - just because her husband had said he loved her. How had she become so messed up? Who was she?
Suddenly she was crying for real, sobs shaking her shoulders as the tears flowed, and she pressed her face into Castle's bare chest, seeking comfort, or maybe absolution. His hand stroked her hair and she heard him murmuring "It's okay" against her skin. But it wasn't okay.
"I don't want to be broken any more," she sobbed into his shoulder. She felt him stiffen briefly, then carefully relax again; his hand paused in its movement and then resumed petting her, slow and soothing.
"You don't have to be," he said quietly.
She sniffled, her breathing still uneven, and pulled back to look up into his face, her cheeks damp and chilly. "Why would you forgive me?" she asked sorrowfully, her voice a bare whisper. "After everything?"
"After everything," he repeated, and sighed. He reached up and loosened the cuffs, letting her wrists fall free. He shifted his body a few more inches back from her, enough to bring one of her hands down between them. Despite the thick padding on the cuffs, red stripes circled her wrists, stark against her pale skin. He gently rubbed the marks with his thumbs as he spoke.
"Do you remember the fight we had," he said slowly, "just before Montgomery died?"
She winced painfully at the memories that crowded in at the words. Her face twisted in a grimace, and Castle leaned over to brush another kiss across her temple.
"You said the same things to me then," she managed. "That I was using my mother's death as an excuse to avoid living my life. That my obsession with it would get me killed." He nodded slowly, his eyes gentle on her face, giving her the courage to go on. "You were right," she added. "But I couldn't see it."
"You weren't ready," he corrected softly. "You pushed me away rather than face up to it."
She was silent, studying his face, waiting for him to explain where he was going with this.
"When you came here tonight," he went on after a moment, "you said, 'You were right.' You said, 'I'm sorry.'"
"Oh," she breathed, finally beginning to see.
"I was thinking about that before you came over," he continued. "I asked myself, is it enough to know that you thought you were protecting me, even though the way you went about it was all wrong? Could I forgive you?"
She shivered a little, involuntarily, at the raw openness of the words. Castle paused and reached down to pull the blanket up over them, covering them both. They lay in place on their sides, facing each other, the position so intimate that it made her chest clench, desperate love flooding her. She reached out to him and he took her hands again, resumed massaging the fading marks on her wrists. The tenderness in his touch brought new moisture to her eyes, but she just blinked and waited for him to continue.
"I just wanted you to see," he said, "to acknowledge the truth of what I said. To see the damage you had done to us, and to apologize. And you did."
"I never lost faith in you, in us," she burst out suddenly, her throat tight with the need for him to believe her. "I swear I didn't."
"Shh," he soothed, reaching up to smooth his thumb along her cheekbone. "I know you were scared of losing me. But Kate, by leaving without telling me why, you almost did."
"I know," she choked out, her lips trembling. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," he said calmly. "We're going to be okay." He let her hands go and slid his arm under her neck, tugging her closer, wrapping his arms around her.
She put her arm around his waist, snuggling into his broad chest, resting her cheek over his heart. For maybe the first time in months, she felt safe. Calm. Hopeful.
"So this is my punishment?" she said into his chest, after a few minutes of quietly holding each other. "Forgiving me?"
"Never," Castle said firmly, his arms tightening around her. "Forgiving you is just what I do, Kate. Because I can never stop loving you, and loving means forgiving." He paused, and then added, "Your punishment was not giving you what you thought you wanted, when you were tied up. The easy way out."
"Oh," she managed, suddenly remembering the nipple clamps, the paddle, the imagined pain and the delicious pleasure it could have brought. Unexpectedly, a flush of renewed arousal surged through her.
She pulled her head back again and looked into his eyes, biting her lip slowly. "Will you spank me now?" she asked, trying to inject a sultry tone into her voice. But it quavered, vibrating with emotion and need.
She watched his eyes darken, studying her face. She shifted a little against him and felt his body respond. One of his broad hands slid down her back and squeezed her buttock. She tensed a little, anticipating, but he just squeezed again and slipped further down, dipping between her thighs to tease her.
"No," he said gruffly, and her heart sank a little, but then he lowered his head and kissed her demandingly. She gave a little whimper as she opened for him, above and below: her lips parting to let his tongue invade, her thighs spreading to welcome in his fingers.
He lifted off her mouth after a moment and added, "But I'll put the cuffs back on, if you want."
Desire roared through her, her heart pounding. She swallowed with difficulty. Her hand slid across Castle's hip and between their bodies, gripping him lightly.
"On my stomach?" she asked tremulously, her breathing already choppy with anticipation. "Please?"
He quirked a small smile, just briefly, before his expression hardened back into the dominant mask she so loved. Moving with startling speed, he pulled her hand off him, pinned both her wrists above her head, and fastened the cuffs around them again. In the next instant he had flipped her onto her stomach and attached the cuffs to the headboard once more.
"Like this?" he asked, covering her body with his own, his mouth hot against her ear. His hands slid up her back and around, stroking the outsides of her breasts where they were pressed against the mattress. He shoved her knees apart and teased, sliding his erection between her legs and rubbing it through her gathering wetness until she moaned and writhed underneath him.
"Yes," she whined, "please, Rick."
He knew just what she wanted, and this time, he gave it to her. His big hands wrapped around her hips, holding her down, immobile. She struggled and strained against him, but he didn't let up, didn't let her move as he pushed inside her, hot and hard and thick, filling her. She moaned fervently into the pillow. He drew out, slowly, and then thrust back in, drawing a near-scream of pleasure from her.
Sometimes, she needed it this way. The heat of his broad chest covering her back like a blanket; his hands holding her in place, taking away all her control. She could only feel. Everything else dropped away and it was only him, and her, and the passion and the love that bound them together.
She gave herself over to it and shrieked his name into the pillow when she climaxed, explosively. Just an instant later his deep groan rumbled against her ear as he spilled out inside her.
Castle rolled off her and opened the cuffs, freeing her again. She immediately sought the comforting warmth of his embrace, and he wrapped her in his arms once more, holding her close.
"Okay?" he whispered into her hair, and she nodded, smiling against his chest.
"Yeah," she affirmed quietly. "I love you so much."
"I love you too," he answered immediately. An easy silence enveloped them as they lay together, just holding each other while their breathing calmed down and the sweat cooled on their bodies.
"Rick," Kate mumbled after a few minutes, and felt him startle a little. "Don't fall asleep yet."
"Not falling asleep," he denied blurrily. She took a deep breath and forced herself to sit up. Her shoulders and thighs ached pleasantly, but the stickiness of sweat and other things on her skin was becoming uncomfortable.
"Come on, babe," she said tentatively, taking his hand. "Let's take a shower and eat something. Okay?"
"Yeah, of course," he agreed, sitting up beside her. "And you're gonna tell me everything you've found out about LokSat so far."
Her gut clenched with anxiety, but she forced herself to nod. "Okay."
"And we'll make a plan for how this fake separation is going to work." He stood up, still holding her hand, pulling her along with him.
"Okay," she said again. "And then we'll come back to bed, right?" She smirked lightly up at him. "We have a lot of catching up to do."
"You better believe it," he growled, and pulled her in for another kiss before leading her to the shower.
Author's Note: There has been a lot of discussion and difference of opinion about the ending of episode 8x08, and in this story I wanted to illustrate my personal interpretation thereof. Obviously, you're free to disagree with my take on it. I welcome discussion in the comments, but please keep it civil.
Huge thanks to Meg for beta-reading and general sanity checking! :)