Disclaimer: Castle is not mine.

a/n: This is the continuation of the Valentine's Day chapter in Four of a Kind. I promised this to several people and I hope all of you enjoy. ;)

"Not my fault when you taste like heaven." It's low, barely audible but she hears. She feels it and her body flushes with heat.


She's eager from the moment the last of their kids falls asleep. Biting her lip, pulling him to their room by hooking her finger through his belt loop. She loves that he stumbles, loves the look on his face when her eyes meet his in the dimly lit bedroom. But something changes. Something makes his gaze darken, has the excited puppy look falling as his features morph. No longer is he under her spell. Now she's under his. Storm blazing in his eyes and a smirk tilting his lips that has her body responding. Thighs clenching, breath hastening, her nipples growing tight.

In that split second, she loses the control and has no qualms with how he reaches for the button on her jeans. Her skin is too warm, heating with the sound her zipper makes as he pulls it down. His eyes never leaving hers and she knows what this means. She's known since the moment he made the comment. He has one thing on his mind and she's been wanting it for hours. Wanting him.

Her arousal burns between her thighs, hot and damp. And she's warring with herself when he pushes her pants down. She wants to reach for him, wants to take her time exploring as she undresses him, let her mouth wander and make his eyes roll back in his head but it's not what he wants. Not yet. She can wait. Because the promise he's implied for hours has her slick and aching for release. She's been thinking about it, fantasizing.

He took his time with her jeans. But he's quick with her shirt. Her bra no match when he reaches around, and she barely notices, too focused on his mouth working over her jaw. Hot kisses that have her skin tingling and a pulse beating steady, pressure building between her hips. She rocks into him, seeking friction and his teeth sink into her neck. Just below her ear. A soft bite that has her moaning his name. He's dragging it out, heightening her pleasure, and damn him for it because she just wants him inside her. She'd had plans when she led him in here and he's ruining them.

Devastating them. Wreaking havoc on her with slow touch. It's Valentine's Day and he's a romantic but this is more. The fingers that slide sensually down her spine are a distraction. One he uses to weaken her defenses and as soon as she hears the rumble of his voice, she's helpless to resist.

"Lie down." It's not a request. And the thrill that slashes through her shows on her skin.

Goosebumps rise and her breasts heave with every breath. Their night just became a lot more interesting and instead of defying him, she listens. But not before she slides her panties down her legs and kicks them to the side. He may be calling the shots this round but she's gonna make sure she's not the only one being teased. He groans out her name in what she assumes he meant to be a scold. But all it does is make her braver. That's when she smirks at him. And then she's lying back against his pillow, the blankets cool against her overheated flesh. There's a brief moment where he's locked gazes with her and she can feel it. But it's over the second his eyes travel down.

She can feel that too. As if his hands are touching. Stroking her skin, palm settling over the swell of her breast, fingers pinching at her nipple. She shifts restlessly, presses her thighs tighter and lifts her hips. Because he's not touching. He's just staring. Appreciating the view is what he always tells her and if he really wants to play then she's game.

She waits a beat, maybe two. Her heart is pounding against her ribs, the anticipation really gets her going and he knows that but this is overkill. She's bare before him and he's just now starting to lift the hem of his shirt. Slowly. So she strikes. She lets her knees fall open, parting her thighs. She lets him look and skims one hand down her side.

"Don't." He growls it at her. Voice an octave lower than before. Dangerously sexy.

She behaves for the moment. Because he's moving quicker. His clothes disappearing in record time and she can't help but giggle just a little.

Until the tables have turned and he's the one bare and on display. She's serious then. Eying him hungrily. Wanting his weight pushing her into the mattress, wanting her legs wrapped around his waist. But no. That isn't what he has in mind. That isn't what this is about and she knows. She has to wait because he's intent on taking his time. Calm when he joins her on the bed, when he lays on his stomach and gives her a devilish grin.

His words flood back to her. Taste. He'd said she tasted like heaven and she can't stop the twitch of her hips. The eagerness she feels when his hands barely brush her thighs. She jerks into him. Not ashamed. Asking for what he's already planning to do. Her body begging. That's what he wants. He wants her crazed and needy. He wants to see her lose control.

She barely sees him through hooded lids, but he's teasing her. She expects the bursting pleasure of his tongue and instead she gets a soft kiss to her inner thigh. And then the sting of his teeth imprinting. He nuzzles her skin, tastes the arousal that's smeared there. She's wound tight, muscles clenching, her body weeping for him and he's playing.

She growls his name, rocks up until his mouth is where she wants it. And there's no denying her desperation after that. Not when she shifts her hips, not when he finally takes the bait and grips her thighs. And then she's panting, moans slipping from her lips with every stroke of his tongue. He's thorough. Patient. Tasting, taking his time. Enjoying himself and she's writhing, impatient and greedy. He has to hold her down, keep her still and she's chanting his name the moment he slides her leg over his shoulder and his tongue dips inside.

Her back bows. The pressure building to an almost unbearable ache and then he's pulling away, leaving her gasping and cursing. She might threaten him, she's not sure but then his fingers replace his tongue, curling inside her and his mouth settles over her clit and she's sailing. Her body shattering, clenching, spine arched.

He laps at her until she's pushing him away. Always wanting just another taste. But she just wants him. One orgasm is never enough, just leaves her feeling empty and ready to chase after the next. He grabs her wrist, to pin her hand down but she has other plans. He had his turn. And now she's about to drive him crazy. Ruin his self control. She frees herself, winking at him before sliding her fingers through her soaked folds. One point to her for the way he groans.

Two points added when she lifts her fingers, and staring at him the whole time, rubs them across her lips. Waiting. Knowing he wants another taste and his control snaps. She watches it break apart before her eyes. Barely having time to revel in her victory before his mouth is hot and open against hers, before one of his hands is pinning both of hers above her head. His tongue slicks through her mouth, her flavor heavy and she curls her leg at his hip. Opening to him.

Body trembling when he rocks his hips, sliding against her. Almost where she needs him. Hot and hard between her thighs and almost exactly where she needs him. But not quite and she whispers it against his mouth.

"Baby, please." She admits defeat. Flexes her fingers until he gives in, and when he lets go, she knows to hold on.

And it's obscene the sound that escapes her when he slides home. Pausing for a moment just to be. Just to be them. To be physically connected to the one they love. But just for a brief second before he moves.

It's quick and dirty. Her body rising to meet his, the slap of their hips. The muffled moans and keens that she buries in his shoulder until he shifts down to her chest. Tongue and teeth working over her breasts. And she's having to bite her lip to stay quiet. They can't be loud. But it's hard. It's hard to be silent when he's pressed deep. Stretching and filling her.

She grips a fistful of his hair, tugging when he thrusts. And scrapes her nails down his side, arching into him. Her mind glazes when he slows. When they both ease into a gentle rocking motion that tugs at her insides and has her trembling. His mouth leaves her nipple, one last tug before he's gone.

He's beautiful like this. When she blinks and he's looming over her. With his blue eyes dark and sweat gathering on his brow. He's beautiful and she's reaching up, kissing him. Slow and deep. Matching his thrusts. She doesn't know who's winning now. No longer cares about the power play. All she wants is to stay like this. She wants to keep him buried inside her, stay in their bed skin on skin. But her body is breaking apart, her walls fluttering around him and soon she'll be falling over the edge.

He falls first. With her name on his lips, he spills into her. She comes seconds after. Their hips dancing, not ready to give it up until they're both collapsing against the mattress.

Breathless, skin sticking with sweat and still tangled together. She doesn't have a clue who won. But she's calling it a tie.