This is M rated, guys, so if that isn't your thing back arrow on outta here. And if it is, read on.
Stepping out onto the New York City sidewalk, Rick Castle breathes a sigh of relief. After a long afternoon spent cooped up in Black Pawn meetings, with nothing to stare at but stuffy lawyers and four white walls, he pauses before the rapidly setting sun and takes a moment to relish his newfound freedom.
Freedom to head home.
To Kate.
His decision to walk gives him time to reflect upon all the experiences they've shared since that wild spring storm dropped her on his doorstep, her lips spilling over with apologies and love. Murder in the Hamptons, Jerry Tyson's return, Hurricane Meredith, Eric Vaughn, the job in DC, and a surprisingly well-received marriage proposal. Each has pointed them to this place, to this day, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Through it all they've pushed away and come back to each other every time. And that's really the most important part, they always come back. They've both had to overcome the urge to turn tail when things got tough, both wounded in ways that affect them more than they'd anticipated, but an unspoken pact was agreed to the moment those words left her lips. I just want you. And he just wants her, too. Any way she's willing to give herself, anything she's willing to share.
He wants every part of her. Every scar, every smile, every good and bad moment. His life is better with her in it and he likes to think that she feels the same. The final piece of his heart has settled in place, his future laid out before him, free for the taking. And he's taking it, grabbing on with both hands and never letting her go. His Kate.
Well, not his Kate, because no one owns Kate Beckett, but he likes to think that she's his more than she'd be willing to be anyone else's. His fierce detective, sinfully sexy lover, loyal partner, sweet fiancée. She's everything.
The sound of a horn blaring shakes him out of his daydream and he looks up to see the façade of his building. He stops short realizing he walked the whole way home on autopilot, his mind filled with thoughts of her. Not totally surprising as he's usually easily distracted by thoughts of her, but he is home now, and once he walks through the door he can let her thoroughly drag him out of this world and into hers.
He moves quietly though the doorway, listening for any sounds of her presence. Turning away from the entryway table where he's dropped his keys, he takes in the relative darkness of the loft. One table lamp is lit in the living room and a small flicker comes from the direction of the kitchen, catching his eye. Rounding the corner, he finds the source.
A single candle burns on the breakfast bar. Next to it, he sees her long, slender fingers stroking the stem of a wine glass. She lifts it to her lips to take a sip of the deep red liquid, her eyes watching him over the rim, burning his skin with the intensity of her gaze.
He stops dead in his tracks, shell-shocked as he realizes exactly what he is seeing. Dropping his eyes to her feet and traveling slowly up her body, they widen with every delicious inch that he takes in.
She sits on a bar stool, both feet encased in black leather stilettos that are perched on the footrest, causing her knees to fall open, her left forearm resting on her thigh, fingers dangling toward the floor. Her endless legs are bare, skin smooth and calling for his wandering touch. One of his tuxedo shirts hangs from her shoulders, unbuttoned completely, teasing him with a hint of black hugging her torso.
"Castle."
Her deep, quiet voice jolts him out of his stunned state and he shakes his head slightly as a shiver shoots down his back, drawing all his blood south. The strong fist of awe and arousal clenches at the base of his spine.
He stalks toward her. There is no other word for the way he moves across the room, his eyes darkening with every step he takes in her direction. He lets his gaze lock with Kate's, watches her lick her lips in anticipation, and his mouth waters at the phantom taste of her on his tongue.
When he reaches her, it takes every ounce of restraint to not just grab hold and kiss her senseless. To take her against the countertop. Instead, he slowly reaches forward, letting her think he's going to touch her. She breathes in, her perfect lips spreading as she waits for contact, and, at the last second, he redirects, taking the wine from her fingers.
He swirls the glass and lifts it to his mouth. Taking a sip, his eyes close in pleasure; she's picked her favorite, the kind that makes her feel all…
Lost in the flavor, he startles at the feeling of her hand wrapping around his nape. She surges off the stool and crashes her lips to his, her tongue pushing into his mouth, licking the remnants of wine from him. Setting the glass back on the countertop, he slips the fingers of one hand into her tousled hair, the other landing on her neck, his thumb rubbing under her eye. But not willing to get ahead of himself he gently calms her with his kiss, pulling away slightly to look in her eyes.
They are dark with arousal and lust, black with the need he knows is burning in her veins.
"Hey," he whispers, breaking the silence of the room.
She shudders, eyes closing as his warm breath washes over her face, lips lifting to share her gorgeous smile.
"You're stunning, Kate. Beyond stunning."
Her heart rate picks up the closer he gets. She can almost feel his fingers coasting over her body, digging into the skin stretched over her hips, and the phantom sensation causes her blood to boil.
His eyes are dark, pupils blown as he takes in the outfit she'd chosen especially to draw out this reaction from him. Waking up today, she was desperate for his touch, but the bed was cold; he'd already left for his meetings. She's been burning for him ever since, choosing to wait instead of taking care of it herself. All day she's been finding anything and everything to distract her. A day away from work is really no good unless her fiancé is around to help her pass the time.
But now all that waiting is about to pay off. He's nearly to her, his hand reaching out and she sucks in a deep breath, her body beginning to quake in anticipation of his touch. Her vision goes slightly hazy right before he makes contact, except then he doesn't. He takes her glass without touching her at all.
She watches him sip the blood red liquid, watches his throat bob as he swallows, and her heart smashes against her ribs in response. That infuriating man. If she had enough higher brain function available she might be embarrassed about how desperately she needs him, but he's so close, his scent intoxicating, the stretch of skin at his open collar too thoroughly distracting, and she can't take it anymore. Reaching for him, she slips her fingers into the soft hairs at the base of his neck and takes what she needs from his mouth. She's drowning in her lust for him and this is the first breath of fresh air she's had in hours.
He's finally reaching for her, settling his thick, knowing fingers on her skin – fuck, yes – and she almost finishes right then and there, his mouth and his touch branding her as his own.
And she is his.
This ridiculous, childish, maddening, perfect specimen of man has completely ruined her for the rest of her life.
But then he's slowing her down and pulling away. Her eyes shoot open, mouth ready to demand why when she sees her own internal blaze reflected in his expression. And damn if that doesn't do it for her, too.
He speaks – something about being stunned – his rough voice scraping along her already too sensitive nerves, and she can barely breathe, let alone comprehend exactly what he is saying.
His rumbling groan cuts through the air as he pushes her away, her back hitting the seat. He runs his index finger, that single digit, down the side of her neck and across her collarbone, until it catches on her shirt, pushing it to the side.
Settling his hand high against her ribs, his thumb brushes the bottom curve of her breast, as his other hand, still tangled in her hair, tugs gently to arch her neck. He leans in close, resting his mouth on her cheekbone and breathes a choked "Kate" across her skin. "Where did this come from?"
Her lips lift at the corners in response to his question. She'd been out shopping with Lanie last week and picked this up to surprise him the first chance she got. Today turned out to be that day.
The bodysuit is simple; thin black straps wrap over her shoulders connecting with the lacy fabric stretched over her breasts and down her torso, ending around her hips. A delicate silk ribbon crisscrosses down the front, beginning between her breasts and ending just above her navel, tightening the lace against her curves.
Nuzzling her nose against his cheek, she lets him feel her grin as she speaks. "New surprise for you. Like it?"
"Like it? Jesus, Kate." He leaves his forehead against her cheek but tilts his gaze down to look at her. She takes in a deep breath as he trails his fingers over her nipple, instantly causing the pink peak to tighten, before he continues down her body. Dragging his thumb up the crease at her thigh, he reaches around to pull her hips closer to his while cupping the soft skin of her ass. "You're killing me."
"Mmm. Not my intention, babe." His surprised laugh shoots a wave of sensation across her chest and her heart skips a beat. "Castle, what are you waiting for?"
"Hmm?"
"Kiss me."
Growling in response to her command, he comes for her, possessively taking control of her body and soul. His mouth covers hers so quickly she doesn't even have a chance to breathe in, but, no matter, for he is the only air she ever needs. Fisting her hands in his maroon button down, she arches her back, pushing her breasts against him, desperate for the feel of his body and the heat of his skin.
He grabs a fistful of her hair and tugs her head back, their lips making a quiet pop as the connection is severed, and she whimpers when he makes contact with the thin skin of her neck. Licking and nipping his way across, he stops to pay homage at her pulse point, no doubt feeling the profound effect that he has on her.
She holds her breath as he travels to the junction between her collarbones, dipping his tongue into the shadowy valley, thoroughly distracting her while he slips his white shirt from her shoulders, his fingertips trailing down the back of her biceps, leaving a line of fire in their wake.
Wrapping one hand around her back, he pushes against her spine, causing her to bow – opening herself completely to him. His fingertips trip over the criss-crossed ribbon between her breasts coming to rest against her puckered scar, but he doesn't settle there, doesn't draw any unnecessary attention to the mark. It's just a quick acknowledgment, an "I'm so glad you're alive and we made it here" that no longer makes his eyes cloud over with worry or pain. The tenderness, the warmth and love shining in his gaze is almost too much, and his name floats off her tongue when he tugs the thin piece of silk loose.
She cries out, her voice rough with lust when his warm breath coasts over her already hardened nipple followed closely by a gentle nipping. He soothes the sharp pain with his tongue, tracing circles across her flushed skin. Her pulse skyrockets, her heart thrashing against the bones of her ribcage until she's sure it will burst right out of her chest.
He has her naked in seconds, she's not even sure how it happened but when she gathers enough awareness to open her eyes she sees him slipping the miniscule black garment over her shoes, tossing it gently to the side.
His dark blue gaze burns her skin as it travels up her body, lingering over all of his favorite places, before he locks eyes with her. She can see it all in his face, the love he feels, the surprise at finding her like this, the need flowing through his veins and everything slows down. External sound dissipates and it's just him and her here, together.
Kissing his way up the inside of her calf, his fingers trailing softly behind, he stops at her knee, nipping at the sensitive skin, before continuing up her thigh, his mouth never leaving her skin. She can't help but writhe in her seat, desperate and impatient for his touch at her most sensitive, sacred place.
No one has ever touched her the way he does, looked at her the way he does, and the thought makes her seek out his gaze, seek that connection that runs so much deeper than the lust pulsating in her veins. His eyes are as dark as the evening ocean, spilling over with his passion and love.
"Relax, Kate," he breathes against the soft skin just below her belly button, shooting an arrow of liquid desire straight through her. Licking a trail of fire up her stomach, he stops to nibble on the curves of her breasts, and then suddenly he's kissing her, stealing a moan straight from her lips, swallowing it down before she even has a chance to fully release it.
He lifts her off the stool, his mouth disconnecting from hers as he turns her pliant body and pushes her down to the counter. The contrasting sensations of the cold edge of marble digging into her front and the heat of his body at her back drags a low growl out as his open mouth lands on the sensitive tendons in her neck.
"Tell me what you want, Kate."
He breathes it into her ear, her every sense consumed by his presence and she can only whimper in response.
Trailing his fingers down her stomach, across the hard ridge of her hip, he skates right past where she's aching for him, his hand gripping her thigh instead. Her head arches back against his shoulder, lolling from side to side, her trembling body begging for him in a way that her words can't.
"Tell me."
"Rick." She forces his name out, her hips bucking against the counter, causing a jolt of pain that will surely leave a bruise tomorrow.
"Is this what you want?" Her skin tingles when he removes his hand and she almost sobs at the loss until he drags his fingers through her folds, spreading her in the most perfect way as he collects the evidence of her desire.
Opening her eyes at the heady scent floating in front of her nose, she sees his glistening fingers drop to circle around her hardened nipple. "Is this for me, Kate? So wet just for me."
She feels his smile against her neck, so proud that he's able to elicit such a response in her and she'd knock that cocky grin right off his face if she felt any embarrassment about it at all, but the truth is, it is for him. It's always been for him. Even before they were together his words would do this to her, reduce her into a quivering, incoherent mess whenever she needed it. She would coax her release out by reading his words, picturing his face, pretending it was his fingers between her legs, and then she would come, biting back the urge to say his name, unwilling to give voice to her, then, unwelcome desires.
"Castle, it's all for you. I need you."
"Tell me what you need, Kate. Let me hear you say it."
He pinches her nipple in punishment when she hesitates, too overwhelmed by him to get a complete sentence out, but the pain is enough for a moment of clarity. "Fuck, Castle. I want you." She gasps when she feels him dip two fingers inside her, curling them against her. "Touch me, make me come. Make me scream your name."
"Mmm, like this?" He asks the question as his thumb lands directly on her swollen bundle of nerves, stroking her straight into oblivion.
It happens embarrassingly fast. One minute she's grinding against him, drowning in the sensation, and the next her walls begin to flutter, contracting as they violently grip his fingers. After that it's a string of Oh, fuck, Yes!, and Castle as her body gives into him completely.
He can feel the moment she starts to come back to herself. Her knees straighten, shaky legs taking back her weight as she reaches her hand up around his nape, her fingers ripping through his hair, nails scratching against his skull. He drops his nose into the curve of her neck, dusting a kiss against her jumping pulse, when he feels her ass drive into him. A groan tumbles past his lips, and he can't help but push back, let her feel how hard he is for her, and then she spins in his arms, coiling one lithe leg over his hip, dragging him forward as she continues to grind against him.
Her heat and arousal soaks through his slacks, and he has to breathe deeply to steady himself, to keep from finishing this before it even really begins.
"Mmm, Castle. You like that?" she asks as she nibbles her way across his neck, touching her tongue to his overheated skin.
His burst of laughter is pained as her hands travel over every plane of his body, constantly moving, keeping him on edge just because she can, because she knows exactly how she's affecting him, what her touch does to him. "Jesus, Kate."
He sucks in a ragged breath as her nimble fingers make quick work of his buttons, pushing his shirt off his shoulders before her warm palms land on his chest. Her hips do this tight little circular movement and the sensation almost makes his knees buckle, makes him fall to the floor before her.
"You're not playing fair, Kate Beckett." Growling the words in her ear, he bites down on the tender flesh while reaching around to squeeze the cheeks of her ass, kneading the strong muscle, allowing him to slam his pelvis against her in retaliation.
Her head tilts back on a sharp hiss, eyes squeezed shut and lips parted, her chest rising and falling in a shallow rhythm, echoing the galloping beat of his heart. Never able to resist the siren song of her open mouth, he dips his lips to hers and delves into her shadowy depths, sipping from the warmth of her tongue, lost in the intoxicating flavor of her.
Continuing to bump softly against her, the barrier of his slacks and boxers keeps him on the razor edge of pleasure. He kisses her with everything he has, uses his tongue to make his declarations of love and forever, until he is lost in her, in her subtle but exhilarating scent, the soft mewling sounds of her voice, and the burning sensation of her touch as it dips to his belt.
The agonizing pressure of his clothing is eased as she releases the buckle, ripping it from his belt loops and dropping it to the floor, before slipping his pant's button free, undoing his zipper tooth by tooth. Closing his eyes as she brushes her hand over his growing bulge, he stops breathing, using every ounce of control to keep himself still as she pushes down his pants, letting them tangle around his feet, before wrapping her wicked fingers around him, stroking gently.
He forces his eyes open to find her watching him, studying him in that quiet way that makes him feel completely exposed and vulnerable. Her eyes are wide, dark pools of desire and her teeth nibble on her bottom lip, forcing the blood from the tender skin, leaving a patch of white behind. He wants to pull the damaged flesh into his mouth, soothe it with his tongue, but then she does this surprise twist with her hand over his glistening tip, causing a sloppy jerk of his hips, and he completely forgets everything except the feeling of being joined with her.
And he wants it.
Wants to feel her clamp down around him, writhing in ecstasy as he brings her to the brink and then pushes her straight over the edge.
He wants it so badly he can taste it.
Watching his face contract, lips stretched thin, eyes pinched but open, she smiles as she revels in the warm, heavy weight of him in her hand. He's trying to hold himself still, keep himself under control, but she doesn't want him still and controlled. She wants him wild, loud – completely out of control – so she flicks her wrist, circles her fingers against his sensitive underside and watches as it has the effect she was going for.
Startling in response, his eyes widen as he groans a deep, rumbling, sinful sound, and then he's on her. It's a mass of wild fingers, sloppy kisses, and rough touches as he grips the backs of her thighs, lifting her to the counter's edge, spreading her legs wide so he can finally – finally – slide home.
The intrusion of his body into hers is so welcome after this day of delayed gratification that she can't help but release a sigh against his lips. He pauses, breathing deeply and evenly, so she clenches her inner muscles around him.
"Castle, I can't take it anymore. Please."
She's not above begging to get him moving. Just the anticipation of him sliding out and then sliding back in causes a wave of arousal to burst from her, soaking them both where they are joined together.
"Fuck, Kate."
He must feel it because he doesn't hesitate to slip completely from her before sinking back in one fluid thrust of his hips. Drawing her lip between her teeth, she uses the sharp pain to distract herself from the tension she can feel rising under his steady, but unrelenting, movements. He plays her body like a finely tuned instrument, note after note designed specifically to drive her to wild abandon and it's not long before she's falling into ecstasy around him, pleasure exploding along every nerve ending, flooding her senses until she screams a litany of curses, chanting his name every time an aftershock races through her.
Following right behind, he ducks his face into her neck, biting on the sensitive skin over her pulse point as he buries himself to the hilt. She can feel the strain in his muscles, the shaking in his arms as he spills inside of her, her name like a prayer on his tongue.
One by one his fingers release their grip on her thighs and he softly trails them up her spine, dipping between each vertebrae, until he can comb through her mussed hair. Cradling the back of her skull, he kisses his way along her chin before dusting his lips against hers.
Shivering in his embrace, she coils her body around him, ankles hooked at his back, chest pressed against his, and arms wrapped around his neck. She'll never tire of the feeling of being so completely surrounded by him, by his touch and his love.
"You're amazing."
They both laugh, their quiet moment broken as they breathe the words at the same time. And, as he sinks to the floor, she tucks her head under his chin, just holding him, reveling in being held by him.
This is exactly what she's been craving all day – a level of intimacy that she'll spend the rest of her life nurturing, for she is wholly and undeniably addicted to him.
A very special thank you to Kylie and Nic for the encouragement, the flailing, and the lessons. I couldn't have done this without either of you beautiful ladies.