Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. I'd only mess 'em up if I did.
A/N: Thanks for the wonderful reviews for my last story; it's very much appreciated. This is a sequel to that story, "Walls," and takes place during "To Love & Die in L.A.," before Castle & Beckett leave to go back to NYC. Hope you like it.
Castle pivots on the carpet, impatient and restless. It's been over a half an hour since Beckett told him to give her 20 minutes to shower. Three hours have passed since she took down Royce's killer, four hours since she told Castle she'd rather kiss him than poke him, and four and a half hours since she materialized from that swimming pool and nearly gave him a heart attack.
It's taken a good portion of his energy all day to just keep from ravishing her against the nearest surface, flat or not.
Soaking wet Beckett. Jesus.
How could he have not looked? It was a clichéd scene straight out of some adolescent fantasy: her gorgeous body emerging from the pool, thoroughly soaked, hardened nipples peeking through the translucent material, hips sauntering as her astonishingly long legs raised her up, up, out of the water.
He'd almost embarrassed himself twice, first by virtually choking on his fruity cocktail, and then by nearly displaying tented pants to everyone in the vicinity. He'd staved off the latter with years of practice and control, but his dick still twitched at the image of her in that suit, even when she was wearing it while violently jabbing her finger into his chest.
And now, he's about to knock on her door when he sees that it's already slightly open. Pushing on the knob, he takes a step into her room and freezes in his tracks.
The sight of Kate's naked back has him slack-jawed and unable to speak. He's seen her in a soaking wet bathing suit, seen her in revealing dresses, but it doesn't matter; this…this is this.
The white hotel robe gathers at her waist, her arms seemingly moving in slow motion as they enter the terrycloth sleeves. Her hair, still damp, drapes like fringe across the smooth, sensual curves of her back. Her shoulder blades pull gracefully beneath her skin, stretching it taught, begging to be touched and kissed.
Following the robe's hemline, his mouth goes dry as his eyes travel down her legs. Oh, how he's dreamed about those legs. Fingering the backs of her knees. Slowly spreading her thighs. Wrapping her ankles around his back.
He continues his ocular foreplay as she pulls the robe up and over those extraordinary shoulder blades, and when she turns to find him standing there, he still doesn't move.
"Castle, what the hell?" she exclaims, her voice laced with anxiety and maybe a touch of excitement. Grabbing the front of the robe, her eyes quickly scan around for something more modest to wear, but the robe is all that's in reach.
"The door…" he starts, waving his hand in the general direction. "…Was open. I thought you were…"
He finally gives up trying to explain, but doesn't stumble into an apology. He recognizes this moment, this pivotal instant, and he won't walk away. Instead, he takes a step toward her, wanting – no, needing to see her reaction. When she doesn't move, he takes yet another step, inhaling her scent, his eyes never leaving hers.
"What…what are you doing?" Kate whispers, eyes growing wide at the raw desire in his gaze. "Castle—"
"You left it open on purpose, didn't you?" Castle's breath stirs a few strands of her hair as he states the question more than asking it.
He stands so close, their chests nearly touch, and he finally breaks his gaze to examine a drop of water as it journeys from her hair, down her neck, and then as it dips below the lapel of the robe. Oh, how he wants in that robe…
"What?" she deflects weakly, attempting and immediately failing to diffuse the heat of the situation. She can hardly breathe with him this close, her eyes barely able to stay open. Blood whooshes through her ears, and she feels faint.
"The door, Beckett," he rasps, knowing she'll allow him to continue if he dares. "You wanted me to see you, didn't you?"
He continues the dangerous game, bravely raising his hand to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. Lingering on her flushed skin, his fingers skim behind her ear, up into her hair, and then back again, barely touching her as they hover over her neck. Goose bumps pucker her flesh and he can't stop himself, brazenly leaning down to press his lips to the skin of her shoulder.
She gasps, her hand gripping his bicep. "You are such an ego-ma… unnngggh—" She's cut off by the feel of his tongue against her collarbone. "Oh, god," she sighs, mostly to herself, as she gives up and wraps her other arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer.
"I know," he manages to respond, his smiling lips peppering kisses up her neck and along her jaw. When he reaches her chin, he pauses, searching her eyes once more as the smile suddenly fades from his face.
"Kate, tell me you won't regret this. I need to—"
She cuts him off with a kiss, bypassing close-mouthed niceties for open-mouthed heat and the firm curl of her tongue against his. Moaning into her mouth, he wraps his hands around her, nails digging into the terrycloth at her back.
"We… shouldn't be… doing this," she feebly pleads in-between kisses, sipping at his lips.
"Okay…" he answers distractedly, swallowing her next protest with his mouth.
Forgetting her next thought, she grips his hair and desperately attacks his lips, biting and sucking, not caring when their teeth occasionally clash. His hands skim over her waist now, one pulling at her ass, crushing her to him, the other loosening the knot on the robe.
"I'm so glad you're not wearing that suit right now," he breathes against her mouth.
She chuckles quietly, nibbling at his bottom lip. "Too much for you to handle, Castle?" It's a mystery to her how she's even forming sentences with his erection pressed against her through his pants.
"All those straps?" he asks, biting her earlobe and eliciting a hiss. "I never would have figured out how to take that thing off."
She can't help but laugh. "Shut up, Castle," she chides as her hips grind against his, the robe falling open as her leg comes up to hook around the back of his calf. The new, direct contact elicits another groan, another grind of her pelvis against his.
He brings a hand to her face, kissing her once more, before glancing down to see the unfurled robe, her naked breasts pressed against his chest. Slowly, he slides his warm hand beneath the lapel and softly palms her shoulder, the robe falling off of her as he does so, taking his breath with it as the sight of her newly revealed skin overwhelms him.
Lowering her leg from his hip, she steps back and drops her other shoulder, allowing the rest of the robe to tumble into a pile at her feet. His eyes rake hungrily over her form.
Holy...
They fall to the bed, mouths colliding in sloppy, wet kisses, Castle climbing over her body as she claws at his clothes, sliding his shirt over his head before pulling frantically at his belt. He fumbles with his shoes, kicking them off before reaching down to yank off his socks. By then, she's unzipped his pants, and after they join his shoes on the floor, she rises off the bed and pushes on his shoulder, straddling his hips as his back hits the pillows.
The prominent bulge in his boxers is too irresistible, her legs spreading wider to lower her hips against his groin. She closes her eyes, his heat rubbing against her own, and she can feel her wetness soaking through to his dick. Biting her bottom lip, her eyes half-closed in arousal, Kate sucks in a breath and then exhales a low moan. When she finally looks down, Castle is gazing up at her, positively dumbstruck.
"You're amazing," he manages to tell her, his mesmerized fingers trailing lightly along her hipbones, watching the corners of her mouth turn upward. Lowering her torso, she finds a new angle to grind against him, while he takes the opportunity to suckle on a nipple, humming against the pebbled skin. Her mouth falls open to release a deep sigh, and she feels him smile against her.
"You like it when I moan, Castle?" she pants, circling her hips again, rubbing her clit against his tip.
Perhaps arousal has clouded his mental filter, and his judgment, but he couldn't care less at the moment. Running his tongue along her jaw, he sighs into her ear, "I liked hearing it last night."
Her hips suddenly freeze, and she pulls back to look at him, eyes wide. For a brief, panicked moment, he's afraid he's ruined this whole thing, but then her eyes narrow, her lips tighten into a teasing look of disapproval, and she leans in to whisper in his ear.
"I liked hearing you, too. Stud."
His mouth drops open in genuine surprise, but then he remembers the sounds of the night before, and is so turned on by the thought of her touching herself that he swings out a leg and flips her over, pressing her stomach onto the bed. The feel of him on top of her, warm and masculine, silences any protest she might have been readying.
Shoving down his boxers, he presses his smooth, firm length along her ass, relishing the feel of skin against skin. She squirms, pushing back against him, her hand fisting at the sheets, Castle's name falling from her lips in short, breathless gasps.
Taking both her hands in one of his, he pins them to the bed above her head, nosing her hair out of the way and kissing the nape of her neck. "You knew I'd be watching you, Kate," he breathes into her hair, and she shivers, drowning in the gravelly lust of his voice. "You knew what that suit would do to me."
His free hand reaches between her legs, and he groans when he meets hot, slick skin. He slides a thick finger across her clit, circling slowly but firmly before drawing his now wet digit toward the source of her heat. Gasping into the pillow, she's unable to stop the lascivious roll of her hips, feeling him harden against her ass.
"You knew I wouldn't be able to stop myself," he groans, and this time, when he presses his hot length against her, slickness from the tip mixes with the light sheen of perspiration forming on her skin. "You knew I'd have to have you like this," he continues, accentuating the final word with a curl of his finger.
She cries out into the sheets, and, unable to stop his curiosity any longer, Castle brings his finger to his mouth. The tang of womanly musk spreads over his tongue and he smiles, knowing he will never forget her taste.
He traces her spine with his tongue, starting at her lower back and ending up at her neck, where he feathers several kisses along her hairline. "Turn over," he requests quietly, and releases her hands, rising up on his arms to allow her to spin onto her back beneath him.
Running her fingers lightly up his sides, tingles erupt all along his skin, and he meets her eyes, as darkened by arousal as his own. Settling between her legs, he gently moves his hips, rubbing himself along her wetness, his tip tenderly massaging her clit with each soft stroke. She bites her lip and wraps an arm around his neck, bringing his mouth to hers for a long, slow kiss, tongues tangling, breaths mingling, hands caressing his cheeks.
On his next stroke, she changes the tilt of her hips, and he pushes his thickness inside of her warmth. The sensation leaves them both reeling and a deep groan escapes his lips.
Oh. Wow.
They begin to move their hips, hers coming to meet his strokes, unhurried despite the years of tension and desire. The feeling is just too staggeringly good to alter what they're doing, her muscles squeezing his cock as he hits her in what seems to be all the right places, judging from the sounds she's making. He can smell them, their scents fusing together – sex and soap and aftershave – and it's blowing his mind how this can be happening like this, so ridiculously perfect and amazing.
He pauses briefly, catching his breath, and she takes the opportunity to wrap her legs higher around his back. He brings up her leg, hooks an arm beneath her knee, and strokes again, his mouth falling open at the change in angle.
The base of his cock hits her clit at the top of every stroke, and she moans loudly. "Don't…don't stop," she breathes up at him, and he obeys, their skin slapping together again and again.
Just as he feels his orgasm building at the base of his spine, her muscles clench in preparation for her own climax, teasing his dick with each fluttering grasp. A few more strokes and the warmth in his veins blossoms into a fire, and he can't hold on any longer, releasing inside her with a deep groan.
Unable to quench the appetite of his body, he keeps thrusting, and she claws at his back, her heels digging in as the tightness of her imminent orgasm surrounds him. Neck exposed, chest heaving, she arches off the bed and comes hard, her arms quivering as she continues to spasm around him.
Fuck.
Sweaty and breathless, they cling to one another, his forehead resting on hers until their eyes meet and she smiles. "Wow," she whispers.
"I agree," he answers with a smile of his own, and then rolls to the side, exhaling into his pillow.
Her smile turns into a quiet laugh, and he eyes her curiously, propping his head on his hand. "What?"
"I'm just really happy…" She pauses to nervously finger the bed sheet, and then turns to him, raising an eyebrow as her foot caresses his calf. "…Happy I brought that suit."
fin.