"She arched into him and reached around to grasp at his shoulder, pulling him more fully on top of her." Their evening escalates as they finally give in to their love.

One more chapters remains.

Disclaimer: I don't own them – I just write about them.

What The Heart Wants

Chapter 2

It was her shiver as he kissed along her wet hairline that finally broke the spell, reminding him that her clothes were heavy with rain. "You must be cold. How did you end up soaking wet?"

"It's raining outside." Her voice was soft as she simply stated the obvious.

"I'm aware of that, but what did you do, walk around the city in a thunderstorm?" His playful smile faded to concern when he realized by the haunted look on her face that his guess might not be too far off the mark.

"Something like that," she admitted carefully.

He brought her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her like he'd wanted to do hundreds of times in their years together. He had never seen her so open and vulnerable. The woman who stood up to leaders of gangs, faced down armed gunmen, and today, he had no doubt, looked into the eyes of the man who shot her in the chest at her captain's funeral, was holding on to him like a lifeline. If he had to choose a word to describe her, it would have been raw. Her fierce, indomitable armor had shattered like glass, revealing a woman who just wanted – just needed – to be loved. He could give her that, and so much more.

Castle could only guess at what she'd been through while he'd basked in his pride as a father and did his best to not think about her out there alone, hunting shadowy figures with lethal skills that far exceeded even her own intense training. He'd tried vainly not to imagine her, like her mother, bleeding out in some alleyway while he ignored her phone calls. He'd blocked out the fear that he would see her picture on the front of the Ledger under the headline, "Detective killed in line of duty." He knew he'd never recover. But most of all, he'd prayed for some relief from the guilt of walking away, relief he had only felt when she came back to him, alive and choosing them.

She had led him to his room, holding his hand as a shy smile played at the corners of her mouth. She had made her decision, or maybe just finally accepted their fates were twined together. The sight of her bathed in the warm ambient light created a vision that made him catch his breath in awe, and Castle knew that in all of heaven and earth, there was nothing more right than being together with her.

He felt her shift against him so that she could raise her head and bring her mouth to his. Again, her hands found his face and she stroked and caressed his skin as if memorizing every detail.

"Kate -"

"Shh," she breathed, as she moved her hands to the top button on his shirt.

For once, he complied.

Slowly, she pushed small disc through the hole before descending to the next. Her wall was gone, reduced to rubble by the power of her own fear – but for the first time, that fear was not of failing to avenge her mother, but of dying with so much unsaid between her and Castle. And yet her presence in his room, in his arms, was not some reckless attempt to reaffirm life in the face of death. It was not guilt or fear that brought her to his doorstep, but love – the love he offered and the love she could finally return.

She'd fought so hard against her feelings for him, until she just couldn't anymore. It was more than attraction, more than infatuation, but for too long, she wouldn't let it be love. To love him – to love someone who looked at her like he did, who stood by her, challenged her, and made her feel so much – was terrifying. Her heart wasn't strong enough, which was why she guarded it so closely. But in the past year, that love had sustained her. It had given her hope that there was more to her life than a quest for justice, than the comfort she sought time and again, but always found cold and incomplete, at the grave of her mother. She believed for so long that all she had was an unforgiving headstone to remind her of her purpose and of all she'd lost. But there was more waiting for her. There was life and warmth, and a person of flesh and blood, not just a memory, who loved her and offered her everything she needed. All she had to do was reach out for it. Tonight was her acceptance. It was the benediction of everything she felt for him, everything she'd denied and hid away for so long. Tonight, she would give him all she had, and accept from him all he offered.

Under his shirt, his skin was warm against her palms. She marveled again that she wasn't backing away, wasn't hiding or running from what she felt. She was acting on it, and it was incredible. All she wanted in the world was standing in front of her, offering everything. Closing her eyes, she placed her lips to his heart and welcomed the emotions that swirled around them, so real and strong they were almost corporeal.

In an instant, the mood changed again. Rick's hands were swift and sure as they swept her shirt over her head. The damp material fell heavily to the floor, but neither noticed as his fingers traced her neck and collar bone to then skim down her arms. He leaned forward and brushed his lips along the same path, kissing his way to her shoulder and dragging the strap of her bra with him. In return she pushed his shirt down him arms until it floated to the floor behind him. She licked and nipped at his chest, moving up until her mouth found his. Behind her, he deftly flicked her bra open and then ran his hands along the uninterrupted line of her back, feeling every vertebra and quivering muscle beneath the smooth skin. The lacey black garment joined her shirt on the floor when he gently nudged her onto the bed. Instead of following her to the soft surface, he stepped back and took in the sight before him, meeting her eyes when she lifted them from his bare torso up to his face. Both their expressions were heavy and dark with awareness. It was a culmination they each had doubted would ever be realized. But the holding pattern had finally given way, and they were determined to savor every moment.

Stepping toward the bed, Castle alternately lifted Kate's feet and removed each shoe, then peeled her sodden socks from the still damp skin. Her toes were like ice from being enclosed in the rain-soaked boots. He held them in his hands until they absorbed the warmth from his skin, and then he began to rub her ankles, venturing under her pant leg to caress her calf as far as the material would allow. Kate sighed in aroused contentment as she lay propped on her elbows, watching him. Then she leaned back and lowered her hands to the snap of her slacks. When they were unfastened, Castle pulled them down her legs, leaving her clad in nothing more than simple black cotton panties. She was exquisite: toned and firm, all long limbs and soft curves that begged to be worshipped. The muscles of her abdomen and legs flexed and contracted as she sat up to reach for him. He caught a glimpse of the beginnings of a bruise blossoming across her side and back, and then his eyes narrowed in on the shadows at her neck and the raw skin on her fingers. He could only guess it was the result of whatever happened to her earlier, but as she opened the snap of his own pants, he resolved to ask about it later. She was alive, and the present was all that mattered.

Not waiting for her to continue her torturous efforts to remove his slacks, he lowered himself overtop of her and used his feet to kick them off, along with his own socks and shoes. If it was awkward for a moment or two as he wrestled with the clothes, neither cared; the end result was all that mattered. Finally, his silk boxers slid along her thigh as he moved to align himself with her body, awakening her to the strong evidence of his arousal. Looking down at her, he kissed one corner of her mouth before moving to the other, and then finally claiming the whole thing. She arched into him and reached around to grasp at his shoulder, pulling him more fully on top of her. Supporting himself on one arm, he used the other to dance his fingertips across her skin until finally settling at her breast, tenderly cupping it and rolling the peak through his fingers over and over just to hear her gasp and writhe at the sensation.

He moved his hand along her side, passing over the raised scar from her surgery until he encountered the soft cotton of her panties. Hooking his thumb into the waistband, he started to push them down, even as his mouth began a descent from her jawline, to her neck, stopping at the base of her throat to pay homage to the rapid beat of her pulse. He paused again to kiss the puckered circle on her chest before moving first to one breast, then the other, laving each with the warm caress of his mouth. Swirling his tongue and nipping at the peaks, he felt her hands fly to his hair and twine their way through the strands, struggling for control. It was a futile effort that caused a surge of arousal to course through him when she whimpered in surrender, knowing he could evoke such an inhibited response from a woman defined by her restraint. It was a journey he would happily take a lifetime to complete, and he knew this was only the first of many such explorations into the desires of Kate Beckett.

Eager for more of her, he tugged her underwear down her legs, then stood up only long enough to divest himself of his boxers. At the sight of him, Kate's eyes darkened and her lashes lowered invitingly. In a heartbeat, he was back on her, hands stroking along her body, trying desperately to touch everywhere at once, lips tasting skin, blazing a hot trail to her mouth. Instinct took over as sensations began to blur together. Hands and mouths competed in a frenzied battle for territory, and reason did not return until Castle found his hand between them, poised at her center. Her hips angled upward, pushing against him, and he claimed her mouth as his fingers stroked and touched her with equal parts reverence and urgency.

Kate's vision dimmed at his intimate caress. She bucked beneath him, her hands racing along his back, digging into his skin in a burning need for more. When the need became too much, she trembled and cried out, giving herself over to the explosive desire he so deftly elicited. Suddenly, the pressure of his hand was not enough, and she moved her palms swiftly across his hips to the part of him she longed to touch.

His breath caught, and he feared an immediate loss of control. Drawing on what little restraint he still possessed, Castle slid his hand first to her waist, where it clenched in response to the sweep of fingers across his length, even as her tongue darted along his collarbone. Then he determinedly grabbed her knee so that he could draw her leg up to encircle his hip. Finally, clasping her hands and raising them over her head, he leveled himself above her. Time slowed to a crawl, and he watched in awed fascination as her eyes rose to his, connecting with a fierce acknowledgment of everything they'd shared and endured together. Moments flashed through his mind – of Kate glaring at him from across a steel table when they first met; of her cradled in his arms succumbing to hypothermia; of her walking the red carpet in a blue cocktail dress that made his mouth go dry; of her tear-streaked face begging him for solace and absolution while their captain died to save her; and of that first taste of her on a cold January night, and the feel of her body clinging to his as their ruse turned for too real …

Her name was a prayer on his lips when at last he joined his body with hers. The enveloping heat surrounded him as he pressed into her and felt her arms snake around his neck, drawing her off the bed and flush against him. Their mouths fused, and their arms clung possessively to the other, while their hips rocked rhythmically in a timeless dance that carried them beyond reason.

She tasted the salt of his sweat when she kissed his shoulder, and she quivered reflexively when his fingers grazed her breast and returned to stroke the pebbled tip. Her knees gripped his hips and pulled him against her, matching him in this, as she did in everything else. They each gave and took, offered and accepted. When he slowed long enough to meet her gaze, she cupped the back of his head and drew his lips to hers, offering the kiss as affirmation that her feelings ran just as deep. But when she whispered his name on a strangled sob, he crushed his mouth to hers. The world exploded around her once again, but this time, she felt him find his own release, losing his grasp on reality even as he held her close and carried them both over the edge.

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Conclusion to follow soon.