For Elle. Mwah. And yes, mwaaaaggggghhhaghhaghgh.
She's never letting him order them a limo again.
Kate bats his hands away from her chest for the fourth time, shooting him what she hopes is an effective glare. Castle's been handsy all night. All. Night. A whole evening of long, lingering glances and sly innuendos and subtle touching that's left both of them on edge through a four-course French meal. A meal at a restaurant with long tablecloths, which offered perfect coverage for the moment when he slid his foot up her calf and she almost gasped out loud.
They hurried through dinner and out the door, and when the limo finally picked them up it should have been alright. But then traffic snarled unexpectedly, and now they're trapped, too far away from either's home to get out and walk, and Rick Castle has suddenly reverted to a teenager who thinks the barrier between them and the driver is a green light to get his hands under her dress.
They've been going out long enough that they're out of the honeymoon phase, that first blissful month they spent rolling around his bed and her bed and her couch and his shower and her kitchen counter and the one time on his desk that she will never, ever think of without blushing. They can spend a day together without getting desperate. At least, they should be able to. But somewhere between his hand on her back entering the restaurant and her very deliberately curling her tongue around the cherry from her dessert, she's pretty sure they landed right back in the minutes-away-from-public-indecency category.
It may have been dinner at one of the most elegant, upscale restaurants in the city, but Kate Beckett is just fucking horny.
And Castle knows it. The smug bastard is sucking at the edge of her jaw while he traces his fingers over her leg. Kate sucks in a breath. Why did she ever think it was a good idea to tease him with that cherry? Castle never backs down from a challenge. He gets that stupidly sexy look on his stupidly handsome face and her blood gets hot and it always ends with orgasms and she really, really didn't think this through.
"Castle. We can't -"
"Actually, we can." His hand slides up her thigh, thumb just brushing the edge of her panties. She squirms. "And I'm pretty sure you really, really want to."
He traces faint, tight little circles over her damp underwear, and oh, she hates him right now. Because Castle knows exactly how to get her worked up, exactly how far he has to push her before she tackles him onto the nearest flat surface.
But Kate has limits. Mostly because getting arrested for publicly fucking this man would slightly impede her police career. And she will absolutely die of mortification if the limo driver notices the distinct rocking motion from their end of the vehicle (and sex with Rick Castle is energetic).
"Castle. Castle." She pulls in a shaky breath. "This isn't a g- ohhhh."
Her voice breaks as two fingers slip under her panties and dip inside her. Her hips jerk in spite of herself, and the self-satisfied grin on his face says he's pleasantly surprised at how wet she already is.
"Kate. Come on. We're in standstill traffic." He kisses her long, slow, deep, the kind of kiss that makes her toes curl, and okay, he's right, they're not going anywhere anytime soon. "Besides. You're already halfway there."
More than halfway. Not that she'll give him the satisfaction. But he's so good at this, so clever and just evil with his fingers between her legs, and as his tongue slides into her mouth and his fingers curl, she forgets every reason she wasn't going to do this.
She slides her palm over his crotch in retaliation, smiling against his mouth as he lets out a groan, but he's moving faster than she is. He presses her back against the smooth leather seat, dragging his hands up her thighs, kissing her hard. "Nope. Not yet." He bites at her ear. "Trust me, Kate."
"What?"
"Trust me."
He smothers her soft protests with a brief kiss, a quick nip at her lower lip, sweeping it gently with his tongue, before he slides off the seat and settles between her legs.
Oh. He's -
Oh.
It's probably the worst idea ever, because it's his idea and he basically had to paralyze her with lust to get her on board, but he's pushing her skirt up and hooking his fingers under the lacy fabric of her panties, and then he's dragging them down her legs and her entire body is on fire and if he stops now, she will absolutely die. And then she'll shoot him.
It takes her lust-fogged brain a moment to realize that he's moving. He's kissing her thigh, pushing her legs apart, licking his way up the line of her leg until she's all but writhing, biting her lip, because he's so close and she can feel him just breathing on her and -
And then his mouth is on her and she's crawling out of her skin because fuck.
Her head falls back against the seat and she clutches the seat, the door, anything she can reach. She has to be quiet but he always gets her loud, and it's delicious torture as he licks and sucks and slips his fingers back inside her. The lights of the city are soft through the tinted windows, and everything's getting blurry in her eyes as Castle's head bobs in her lap and the tightness starts to build, deep in her body. He shifts her knee over his shoulder, pulling her closer, and his tongue starts to move more firmly, bursts of fire that sizzle in her veins.
She bites her lip, her hands fisting in his hair, and oh fuck that thing he's doing to her clit is absolutely illegal, and after an hour of public foreplay she's just so desperate that she's sucking her own lip trying not to scream.
Everything sort of goes white then, shimmering behind her eyelids, and she's not sure if she screams or not because her whole body seizes up under his tongue, tight and hot and just perfect, and she's writhing against him and her hips are bucking uncontrollably and he's holding her down and just fuck fuck fuck.
When she finally opens her eyes, Castle's slumped beside her on the seat, grinning. Smug bastard. "I hate you," she manages.
"That's definitely not true." He leans in to kiss her, letting her taste herself on his mouth. "Besides, it's your fault."
"Mine?"
"What you did to that cherry? You knew I couldn't wait till we got back to your place."
She grins, hooking her fingers in his belt, tugging. His eyes get wide.
"I think maybe I need to return the favor."