A/N-This last week was really very exciting for me. I had hoped to get one or two reviews, so I was blown away when I received more, and more favorites and follows than I ever thought I'd get. I've always heard writers asking for reviews, and now I know why! It's so very affirming to know that someone out there is reading. So thank you so very much for the welcome, and for taking your time to read my story and let me know how you feel.
Unquestioned
Part 2 of 2
In cannon/Post Always: Kate
Showing up at Castle's door after their fight was one of the most daunting obstacles Kate had ever surmounted. For so long she'd been the guardian, the one who kept enough space and distance between them to avoid succumbing to temptation. She was the one who had to open the gates, invite him through. Earlier that night, she found that for once she was the one chasing him, worried that he would be the roadblock that would prevent them from converging. She knocked on his door, offered her heart to him to accept or reject. It was terrifying. And, thankfully, worth it.
At least she thinks so now as she's lying in his bed. Castle does something to her that she's not sure she really understands. She was never prone to jealousy in relationships before him, but maybe that was because she always had one foot out the door. But before anything had ever happened between them, she found herself despising the women who gazed in his direction even though she didn't have any claim to him at the time.
Everything feels almost perfect for once. It shouldn't since she still failed to get justice for her mother, but against reason, it does. Life taught her that perfect moments never last, so for now, she's going to enjoy every second lying naked next to him in his fantastically comfortable bed. She knows now that his bragging over the years has not been unfounded. No, the man definitely did not disappoint her. She cannot think of adequate words to describe what just happened or how it felt. If Castle, the wordsmith, has any words to that effect, he's not sharing them.
She swears her toes are still a little curled.
While she's recalling the experience, she realizes that she wasn't exactly quiet, and for the first time this night she remembers that other people live in his home, too. She tenses, lifting up a little, and she feels him flinch worriedly in response. "Is anyone else home?" she abruptly asks, bringing reality back to them.
"No," he answers softly, shaking his head.
"Because I wasn't exactly quiet, and—"
"Really?" he sarcastically questions. "Oh, yes, that's right, I did kinda notice that." He beams, and she can hear it. More reassuringly, he adds with a sultry whisper, "Alexis is out celebrating her graduation, Mother is in the Hamptons. It's just us tonight."
He's lying on his back with her draped over him, and his arm surrounding her, his knuckles moving over her in a way that makes her feel so adored. She doesn't know why, it's just his fingers moving over her lats. The funny thing is, even though her orgasm caused quakes she can still feel resonating, she doesn't have any less longing for him. In fact, she almost wants him more now than she did before. Why wasn't there any awkwardness between them during their first round? Shouldn't it have taken them more time to figure each other out? As new and exciting as each touch was, it was almost like they already knew each other. Or maybe they each played it through in their minds so many times before that they were somehow more prepared. After all, she'd be insanely embarrassed if he knew exactly how frequently she'd imagined him while alone in her bed at night, fantasizing about what could be if she allowed it.
So many questions hang in the air, but she doesn't want to break this spell, not right now. She's still not sure if everything is forgiven. Now that he's been inside her, making her cry out his name, will his interest dissipate? Maybe he enjoyed the thought, the mystery of her, more than the reality, and his mind will seek out a new unknown. Now that she's dropped her walls, that she's let him into her heart, she knows that rejection from him will devastate her on a level she's not really ready to face.
She closes her eyes and tells herself to let it go, to indulge, to let this night be about being in Castle's arms, and she can figure out the future tomorrow.
As she feels his bare skin against her bare skin at every point where their bodies meet, she wonders if maybe he'll want to have her again. Goddamn, she hopes so. She can't even begin to describe how wonderful he felt. She giggles for a second as she thinks that the talents of his tongue are probably due to the exercise it gets while he's constantly talking.
"What?" he whispers, tightening his arm around her, softly kissing her forehead. "What's funny?"
Resting her hand on his chest and her chin on top of her hand, she shakes her head. "Nothing important." She tussles her hair and adds, quietly, "Look, I should tell you that even though turning in my badge makes me seem extremely irresponsible, I'm not completely reckless. You don't have to worry about birth control or—"
"What?" Castle blurts so loudly she jerks slightly with surprise.
"Well, I have an IUD, so you don't have to worry about—"
"Yea I wasn't worried about that," he interrupts, sounding quite confused.
"You weren't?" she asks with equal befuddlement.
"No. I mean yes. I mean…no. Obviously that's good to hear. I—it's just that I know you're a careful person. You are way too controlling to risk someth—" he pauses himself so thoroughly she can hear the brakes squeal. "Controlling in a good way," he clarifies. "Believe me, in this instance, I'm glad one of us was responsible."
"Then why did you sound so shocked?" Kate questions.
"The other thing. Your badge."
"Oh. Yea, I quit. I already told you, didn't I?"
"I would have remembered that," he says, initially certain until she can hear him question his own recollections. "At least I think. You were a bit…uhh…distracting."
"Distracting?" she asks, grinning. She's always enjoyed the way she can numb his brain, and turn him into a gawking mess.
"You really quit?" he asks, the intimacy of the conversation saturating his tone.
"I'm done. I'm done, Castle. I told you…I just want you. I don't want to spend my life ignoring something that might be real so that I can chase shadows," she slides her foot down his leg and pats her fingers on his chest. "And you feel…very real."
The sudden flurry of conversation dies down again. She knows she should probably explain more, but she doesn't want to think about Gates, badges or cases right now. At the same time, she doesn't think she can standing making her heart any more vulnerable than she already has. Kate just hopes that he understands that, for once, she wants to think about her personal life instead of her professional one. And she hopes to hell he's not leaving her personal life any time soon.
As the silence blankets them comfortably, she feels his warm body breathing next to her, the softness of his fingers on her flesh. They are not rough and calloused, the soft, smooth fingers of a man of words.
"This…feels nice," she confesses with the gravity of a person admitting a long hidden secret.
"Does it?" His happiness is evident through his tone, and she's relieved to momentarily table the emotionally heavy 'feelings' conversation and return to the more carnal aspects of the evening. Attraction is easier to admit than all-out love.
Her only verbal reply is, "Mmm hmm," and she feels him shiver at her purr.
"If you think this is good…"
For some reason she feels like a rookie at this, because her heart hiccups before it pumps faster even from his relatively tame words. It isn't the words themselves, but the way they're said. Castle, with such unexpected gentleness, rolls her onto her back, lying on his side next to her. She feels his thumb barely brush over her lips, and she knows he's waiting, as she is, for any sign of regret. She's pretty sure he's as worried about being pushed away as she is, but there's no way she could hurt him right now…she just doesn't have it in her.
Instead she purses her lips against the pad of his thumb to invite his touch, and she can feel his chest rise as he breathes just a little deeper. When he comes closer, she feels his tongue glance along the opening between her lips, tracing a delicate line. She should be embarrassed by how easily she moans for him. She feels her center tightening and her skin flush at the thought of having him again. She's waited for this touch, kept him at arm's length for so long that having him so near is overwhelming.
Her lips part and encircle his tongue, not only welcoming his kiss but pulling him in and insistently asserting herself. He scolds, "Ah, ah, ah, Beckett…Kate. You've had your turn to lead. Now it's my turn."
She swallows loudly enough that she's certain he can hear it.
She likes being in control in so much of her life, but the thought of him taking the upper hand is just as enticing, at least in the bedroom. He seems more confident this time, emboldened by the things that have already happened and intrigued by the things he would like to do next.
His hand touches her face, directing her to move as the meeting of their mouths becomes a more thorough exploration before he pulls away. When he returns to her, he licks a loving trail down the side of her neck, so slowly, like he needs to devour her in small bits at a time. The dip where her shoulder and neck meet get extra attention, probably because she cries out so luxuriously that he can tell it's one of the spots that will make her crazy.
Her core is throbbing already, and he's nowhere near there, nor does he appear hurried to venture there any time soon. Once again, the man is killing her patience. But this time, she is loving every second of it.
If he won't meet her need, she'll address it herself, so she squeezes her thighs together, so desperately craving attention that she doesn't care if it seems impatient. But he notices, because he notices everything about her.
"Patience," he softly commands, separating her legs. "I will make sure you get everything that you need. I promise." She's been listening to him talk for years, but his voice never did this to her, low and erotic, his heavier breath evident beneath the words. Her eyes are heavy with lust, her chest conspicuously rising and falling.
While his mouth moves to the center of her chest, leaving echoes of delight behind, his hand pushes her legs farther apart, not roughly, but definitely decisively. He will not be denied, not that she has even considered doing that. He kneels between her knees, and she automatically opens them more to accommodate him, tilting her hips, ready to have him shoving inside her again.
She feels anxious and eager, like she didn't just come with wild intensity a short while ago.
His hands brace on either side of her torso. He's tracing patterns with his mouth over her skin that she can't predict, bestowing extra attention in all the right places. He is amazingly observant, picking up on the tiniest signals. He's so good at reading her that it's almost annoying, or would be if it weren't one of the most enjoyable experiences of her life. Then she realizes he's studying, researching her in ways he was never allowed to before. For all of the myriad things he knows, he's never known her like this.
Snippets of his steamier chapters, ones she's read again and again for the thrill, flash in her mind's eye, and she wonders if the things he's learning will end up in print. She's never felt more willing to provide him with all of the inspiration he can handle.
She is completely overcome by the surging beat she feels in her core, the near-burning flush that spreads over her skin as he licks the spot beneath her ribs and across her tummy. This simply shouldn't feel as good as it does. Logic doesn't apply, and her reactions are as unfounded as magic and ghosts and aliens, but it seems that every inch of her has become an erogenous zone.
If those somewhat innocuous spaces are suddenly pleasure centers, the sensations in the typical places are oh so amplified. When his attention turns to her breast, she arches to encourage him, her palms covering his ears and holding him against her. He sighs his approval, seeming so unhurried compared to the way he was the last round. She doesn't feel the same though, not at all. Her entire being is pleading with her to make a move and take the reins to get what she wants. At the same time she would love for him to continue this oral ballet he's performing on her forever if he'll just give her something, any pressure against her sex so she isn't lifting her hips into the air searching for relief she doesn't find.
Kate hears a plea-filled sigh, practically begging, and can't believe the noise is coming from her. The sound seems to shake him to reality. He pauses, and she can feel the heat of his gaze, eyes lidded with desire.
He can't deny her, dropping his torso down so his abdomen is pressing at the top of her thighs. She winds her legs around his body, locking onto him with vise-like resolve. Between his hands and his mouth, he's giving plenty of attention to both nipples, and she knows her body won't take much more before she's over the edge.
It should be embarrassing, coming so close to orgasm while he's just lying against her and lavishing affection on her breasts. But she isn't embarrassed. She's enamored, intensely stimulated, consumed by the loving treatment he bestows.
She assumes he's unrushed because his body needs time to recover after the last go, but as she wriggles beneath him, she can feel he's already rock hard for her. She imagines how intense his own desires must be, how much pressure he must feel built up, how thoroughly he must crave release. Since there is no physiological reason for him to delay, she concludes that he simply wants to do these things to her more than he wants to take care of his own urges.
She almost screams out, 'why the hell aren't you inside me,' until she feels the pulse of orgasm swell and drown out her inner voice. It's unavoidable, unstoppable, crushing her resolve and silencing her mind. Her entire form trembles noticeably, legs grasping at his sides, fingers locked and rigid as she pushes her body to his. It isn't like she has a choice.
When her brain can support thought again, she braces. He's going to gloat. It's going to be bad because now he has proof that he can reduce her to a panting, quivering mess again and again, and this time all too easily.
His body shifts, making space so he can reach between them. His knuckle slides oh so gently between her folds, and she bucks and yips with an aftershock even though the touch is scant. He eases the ache by lowering his weight against her again with steady pressure. He hums his approbation with an, "Mmm," as he sucks on the finger he just used to gather up her wetness. The gloating she expects from him does not follow. No, when he comes close to her ear, he whispers, "You taste absolutely exquisite. I'm already thinking about the next time I get to kiss you there, so intimately, dip my tongue into your body, savor your essence."
"You are?" she asks, feeling her lips pull into a wide grin even though arousal's grip on her continues. His words tease just as effectively as his body.
"Most definitely. But for now…" he rasps, pulling himself up her long body, positioning his cock at her threshold, "I need you so badly, Kate. I can't think of anything but you…being inside you again."
And he waits, still making sure he's invited, allowed. Instead of giving verbal assent, she uses all of her resources, her legs and feet, arms, hands and hips, to pull him into her. The sound that comes from his chest can only be described as intense pleasure and extraordinary gratitude as he sinks back into her body. He's thick, firm, and long, deliciously filling her to the brim. She basks in the insistent weight of him stretching and penetrating her, demanding entrance.
She flexes her inner muscles, clutching his erection as he sighs, lips gaped, into her mouth. She wants to be memorable, to stand out from the crowd of women he's already had. Even now, she wants to be the best.
Kate sees him stripped down to his most basic self, poise destroyed. He's a man swept up by his current circumstance and the intensities of everything that passes between them. He seems awed by her slick heat, completely lost in her. All he can do is feel, experience, and he bows his head, pressing his forehead to hers. In this moment he is so vulnerable and exposed, truly without defense, and it makes her caution disintegrate. She can't possibly verbalize every feeling that's swirling through her heart, so she shows him.
Through the slow, hungry kiss she offers, she hopes he can feel what she's trying to convey. As her lips meet him, her body holding him tight, a slight whimper escapes his chest. He's surrendered to her, to their feelings, and that sound sends a tingling surge scattering across her nerves.
His hand easily surrounds her hip, his thumb across her lower abdomen. His grasp feels huge and powerful. She wants him to hang on and never let go. She tightens her grip on his manhood, squeezing him in a rippling, rhythmic pulse. He growls into her mouth, "Again," no please, no sweet request. It's a demand.
She complies without witty retort or deflection, offering him what he so clearly wants. For a few seconds, he's so lost he doesn't move. But she doesn't want to play. She needs this orgasm as much, maybe more, than the last one and the one before that. So her heels dig roughly against the backs of his thighs, her hands palming his ass cheeks and pulling him inside until she feels him thoroughly swallowed up in her.
She moves just a little, rocking to try to make their impossible degree of closeness just a little closer. Something in him snaps, his hazy arousal becoming determined and focused. He pulls out, and shoves back into her so abruptly that she cries out, her body pulsing both automatically and intentionally. His dam breaks, and with the next heartbeat he's thrusting powerfully into her like he's clearly been dying to do.
She doesn't want him to be sweet right now, she wants him to fuck her senseless, to let passion overtake hesitation and caution. And it does. Her voice is telling him this, actually vocalizing her desires in unhindered admissions, although she never gave herself permission to tell him these things so bluntly.
Their careful orchestrations fade into more primal meetings, instinct and compulsion directing their movements since their brains are now fully checked out. He's chasing her, of course she's used to that, but this time he's actually pursuing her up the bed. He lifts her like she's weightless, pushing her back against the headboard so he can pound into her with her body against something firmer than the mattress. She wishes she could see this, that the lights were on and she had a mirror so she could watch him nail her with a degree of passion it feels she's always sought but never before found. It's so ardent, so earnest, that all she can ask, entreat, is, "Don't stop. Please don't stop, Castle."
One of his arms hooks under her knee to angle her toward him, and his other takes her face, his fervent pace never relenting. "Can't stop," he barely manages between sloppy kisses.
The kiss devolves into uncoordinated meetings of lips and tongues, and the moment her fingers dig into him and her head tips back against the wall as her orgasm consumes her, he shouts his unfettered release.
Her eyes more fully adjusted to the dim room, she sees the devoted sobriety on his face as the movement of his hips slows to lazy withdraws and returns, each time rocking against her clit when he buries himself deep in her to wring out one more gasp that her body happily supplies. On his last thrust, he stays in her, his hands caressing her back and sides as they breathe into each other's mouths.
"Wow, that was…" they say in absolute unison, chuckling softly at another discovered notion they express with perfect timing.
"God, Castle," she whispers.
"Yea," is his only reply.
She can see his face enough to note the incredible calm behind his eyes. Such looks are rare on him, but for once he has no smartass commentary, no provocation to offer. She wants to reduce him to this state every day for the rest of her life.
Even thoughtless, though, he looks out for her, carefully moving back and lowering her to the bed like she's fragile, perhaps even venerated. She rolls on her side, pulling his arm over her so he's spooning her. One of his hands settles over her heart, the other low on her tummy, locking her into place. He kisses her shoulder softly, so softly it's barely noticeable. Their bodies are slick with sweat, but neither pulls away to cool off.
The cocoon he forms around her is the safest she's felt since her mother's death. At that realization, she surrenders to the necessity of sleep.
Next: Probably either a Season 2 Throwback/Off cannon called 'Page 106' or an In-Cannon early season 5 followup with the working title 'Watch and Learn' that comes from a prompt I received. It all depends on which one I finish. I'm always open to suggestions if anyone cares to throw some out there.
Again, thanks so much to all of you!
