He's dreamed about this. Ran it through his head so many times, he lost count before he even started keeping track. He even had a clear idea of what he would do when this happened, if it ever did. But now, feeling her walk him through his office, he's trying to think of everything he ran through his head to get them through this in a way that would make it memorable, make it special. But even just a few minutes ago, he felt out of control.
She turns, still tugging gently at his hand until she stops at the foot of his bed. He looks her over to make sure that it's really her. When he's sure, he looks into her eyes, looking for pensiveness, fear, anxiety maybe. But all he can see is darkness, and if he's correct... lust. Her whole body language, everything about her saying to him 'Take me.'
He's frozen by her, still unable to think of the scenario he thought of long ago for this situation. Maybe he should just let his actions go autonomous, letting himself do what he will and just be there to revel in the feeling of it all.
He hears her breathing, ragged almost. He wants to be able to take in all of her, every little movement she's making, every smell she's emitting, every sound she makes. He wants to remember it all. But as he's trying this, all he can focus on is her eyes. When she slowly reaches up to her shoulders and pulls her shirt down, showing him the golden skin she wants him to feel, he feels a nervous sweat rush over him. Her wet shirt falls to the floor with a light plop, leaving the straps of her bra hanging off her shoulder.
She takes a small step forward, making the first move to close the distance between them in a bedroom lighted only by intermittent flashes of lightning. She raises her hands, putting them on his chest, her dainty fingers going to the first button on his shirt. He reaches up and ghosts his hands along her arms. He wants her to look at him again. There's a connection when their eyes meet now, and he knows she feels it. But she seems focused on her fingers slowly working at the buttons on his shirt.
He grasps her sides and he hears her breath catch in a light gasp. Her head is still turns upward, as if she's suppose to be looking up to him, but her eyes are still down, watching her fingers slowly work their way down, about half way through. He can't stop himself anymore. He leans forward and captures her lips. The hands on her sides move around to her back and press her into him and her's go through the open space on his shirt. He shivers at how cold her hands are.
Their kiss is long, slow, purposeful, both of them fighting a battle they are both happily losing. Her hands slide up his sides, up the expanse of his chest until he feels her grab onto his collar and tug at it. She pulls away, but keeps their lips in a tight seal against each other. He doesn't tell himself to do anything, but he is. His hands are pressing against her, he's leaning forward and she's pulling them back. Not her, wanting to retreat, a fear racing through the only synapse in his brain not dedicated to her right now.
He feels her start to dip and her arms quickly snake themselves around him. He keeps her pressed into him while his other hand gently lowers them onto his bed. When she feels her back hit against his mattress, she uncoils her arms and leans back fully, letting her head fall back. Her hands run over his shoulders, down his biceps, then back over his chest. She's breathing hard, her heart racing at the feeling of having him on top of her. The firm weight of him is, for once making her feel safe, secure.
It's never been that way. It always made her feel trapped and suffocated. But with him...
He isn't making a move. He's just looking down at her, watching her hands move over him. She always thought that when this finally happened, that their clothes would have been off by now, torn in a few places, scattered in a path leading to his bedroom. Because that's the way he always was with her.
He was always so unyielding around her, and that when it finally came to this, it wouldn't be any different. That he still wouldn't give up any ground to her.
But maybe he held back. Maybe there's so much he held back for so long, he doesn't know how to let go.
But there's no more egg shells to walk on. She doesn't want there to be. In imagery, the flood gate has opened, and she doesn't want any of the rushing water to stop. She wants it to all come out. She wants to be the person that she's always wanted to be around him, but hasn't because it wasn't her place to be. But now...
Now he's gently applying more of his weight against her, softly steamrolling her body with his as he leans down to kiss her. She leans up to meet his lips, but he ends up pressing her back down with a forceful push of his lips against hers. Every time his soft, warm, wet lips make a pass against hers, her heart beats faster, harder. Her blood feels thicker inside her veins. And she never wants to get used to it.
Her body was cold, almost shivering when he first grabbed hold of it. But now, it's warm, mewling and slithering against him more and more with each kiss. First it's her legs, moving from being draped over the edge of the bed to up to his, vicing him. Then it's her hands, her palms sliding over his chest, her thumbs hooking around his shirt, pushing it off of his shoulders.
When she hooks her heel around his calf, a burst of heat shoots through her when he grabs her thigh and tugs it up to his waist. She lets out a sharp groan that gets caught by a yelp when he presses his lips to her wind pipe. She curls her legs around him the same time he pushes her up his bed.
Letting out a shuddering breath, she moves her hands to his jaw, not wanting to end the incredible motions his lips are lavishing against her neck, but wanting more to kiss him, to do something, to participate. He kisses her quicker now, lighter, but with more eagerness.
His weight is lifted off her, and it's only a moment before she realizes why. She hears him tugging at his shirt, untucking it and hers the it being tossed across the room. He pushes himself up the bed, his hips pressing harder against her makes her moan. She quickly moves her hands over his chest again, over his tense muscles before her fingers wrap around the top of his slacks. She tried her hardest to keep up with his eager lips, kissing her with a speed and a passion she's trying to match while concentrating on undoing his belt.
Fumbling, she finally hears the buckle fall out then forcefully undo the button. Her breath catches when she pushes the zipper down, her hand being brushes against him. It's when her hands move to his sides again that she feels his hands on her stomach. Her breath, once in sync with the quick motions of his lips, gets faster the lower his hand goes.
And he's doing just as he thought he would. He's letting his actions go off by themselves. He felt his mouth want to kiss her faster, and he did. All he could do really is just feel her lips respond in more kind he feels he deserves from her. She puts her hands on his sides again. But when he moves his hand to her stomach, his knuckles brushing against her naval, her nails softly dig into his skin.
He realizes what he's doing as he's doing it and only when it's too late for him to stop. His lips leave hers and he moves down her. He kisses everywhere the path takes him. Her neck, collar bone, stopping at her chest. His hand slips around her back and, with well trained and experienced fingers, unclasps her bra. She lets out a loud breath that sounds like a chuckle and he takes it off, flinging it in the first direction his arm goes.
Her hands are on his shoulders, her legs still curled around him, more around his midsection now. His mouth is on her exposed breast the instant her bra is out of the way. She presses up against him, arching her back and tightening everything she has around him. While he does everything he's wanted to her breast, it only lasts a few seconds before her breaths gets ragged, her moans getting louder and shaky. He can't think anything of it, too wrapped up in what she feels like until her whole body shakes under him, her breath broken and shuddering, her body feeling warmer under his touch than ever before and the tight grip her nails had on his shoulders now loose and slack, her hands simply laying limply on his back.
He looks up to her, seeing her head fallen back, a smile gracing her puffed lips and her chest heaving under his chin. "Was what just happened what I think it was?" He asks her.
She lets out a laugh and her hand goes into his hair. "Yeah... it was." She says with labored breath.
"We don't even have our pants off yet." He states simply. He hopes desperately that this isn't over. He's never had this happen to him before.
"Then keep going." She says, weaving her fingers through his hair. "I just forgot what a great kisser you are, that's all."
He smiles and slowly leans back down, his lips going to her breast again, her chest still heaving with her deep breaths. He feels her legs move against him, but doesn't pay much attention, focused on continuing his journey down her body, until he hears her heels boots hit the floor with a clatter. He moves his hands to her waist then, softly tugging at her pants. They're tight fitting, thankfully like everything she usually wears, but they're wet and clinging to her skin. He sits up and sees her hands scrunching in the comforter and shes eyeing him dangerously.
His lungs fill up with air that feels prickly, his hands going weak for a minute. It's her shimmying her hips in his hands that breaks him out of it. In the soft light she's being illuminated by, throwing dark shadows over the soft curves of her undefined abs, the perfect size of her bare breasts, the smirk she's giving him from her beautiful face... he feels his mouth go dry.
"Castle..." She shakes him back to the moment, and what he was doing.
"Right." He says, starting to tug the soaked fabric off of her.
"You know, I thought that my pants would be the first to go." She teases in a voice where he can even hear her smile.
"And I thought we'd do end up doing this a long time ago."
"Then don't waste anymore time." She says, her voice quickly going husky.
He slips the fabric off, finally, with her help as she lifts her legs out of them, turning her soaked jeans inside out and kicking them off. She surprises him by wrapping her now bare, long, glorious legs around him, grabbing his neck and pulling him back done. He lets out a loud moan against her fierce lips. He always knew she had this side, but could always imagine what it would do to him.
Her hands go back to his slacks, ungracefully shoving them off, but by her movements, he can tell that she doesn't want to stop kissing him. She raises her legs, feeling his blood pump harder and lower when her naked legs move against him. He starts kicking his pants off when she manages to push them off with her feet.
He moves against her, pushing himself up while her hands clamor on his back, not wanting a space between them. "Beckett, I don't have-"
"Don't worry about it."
"But, Kate-"
Her hands grab onto his jaw, "Don't... worry about it."
He wants to ask why, but she stops him by forcing her lips on him again. Her legs wrap around him tightly again, pulling him to her.
He feels the air ex-spell out of him when he feels just how wet she is against him. A thought shoots through his mind that there really is no turning back now. If nothing changed before now, it's about to change everything. With a slow kiss, he slowly pushes into her.
She takes in a shaky breath past his lips, her fingers pressing hard into his scalp. He sits inside of her and it isn't until she pushes her hips against him that he pulls back out, only to gently slide all the way back in. This action repeats itself a few more times before the pace is finally set. When he first grabbed her and pushes his door shut with her, even before then probably, she always thought he'd be more energetic, quick to take control, probably even more selfish. But it feels like he's being so... tender. Not wasting a single moment.
Never mind the fact she has more pent up sexual frustration that she wants to admit, and the fact that his lips are working against the nape of her neck again, she feels her stomach start to flutter and her center start to tighten for the second time in less than ten minutes. Her hands move up his back and grab his shoulders and her lips find his ear. "Castle..." She breathes against him.
She feels herself uncoil when he tugs her ass against him. As her breath shudders and her heart goes erratic, the feeling of him inside her while it's happening just adds to it all. When she finally starts to slowly come down from the euphoric rush that overcame her senses, she reminds herself that no one as ever made her feel this way. But it isn't just physical.
Absolutely, he's doing things to her that no man has ever bothered to do, but that's not it. It has to be the emotional connection they have. Maybe what they're doing isn't just sex. Maybe its... maybe they're making love.
She presses against this jaw again and moves his lips back to hers. This thought consumes her. This means so much more to her now. She's made the mistake of doing this hoping to make an emotional connection. But she's never done this because there was an emotional connection. And she can't even begin to deny that it's there. After all... he loves her.
She tightens her arms around his neck when that thought rings in her head again. His lips make another soft, slow pass against hers and she shifts her hips, pushing against him and rolling them over.
Her mouth doesn't leave his as she slowly grinds against him. She feels his hands start mapping her body. Moving against her thighs, around her ass and making her teeth sink down into his lip, up her spine, down her arms, up her stomach then cupping her breasts. She arches against his hands, but only until his arms wrap around her and pull her against him.
It isn't until her lips move down his rough stubble that she realizes that her hips have started to slide against him much faster. And when she does, she can't stop. She presses against his chest and sits up, her hips still sliding against him. She feels her stomach start to coil again and her head falls back in silent laughter. If every time is like this, they're going to have an amazing sex life. She rolls her head back around and sees him softly smirking up to her. Even in the dim darkness of his bedroom, she can see the baby blue sparkle in his eye.
She looks down at his hands framing her thighs and she reaches down. She's never done this, and has always drawn the line here because it was always too intimate. But now, she can't stop. She weaves her fingers through his and entwines their hands together. Looking down at their hands like this, she feels her heart erupts.
"Rick..." She says, emotion rising up her throat.
He tugs at her hands and pulls her forward, moving their enjoined hands behind her back and pressing her against him, his lips finding hers with ease. When he starts rising up to meet her hips, quickening the pace, she lets go of his hands reluctantly and snakes her arms around his neck. With the hard, erratic thump that is her heartbeat and the tight coiling in her stomach and the tightening of every muscles in her body, and the knowledge that this is just the start of something truly beautiful, she feels him go off kilter.
"Kate-" He strains out against her lips.
"Don't worry about it." She says with just as much strain in her voice.
He lets out a groan, muted by her lips sealing themselves tightly over his when she feels herself unwrap and feels him spilling into her.
She's laying limp on top of him, her body still vibrating every time he starts pulling out of her. The feeling of his chest quickly rising and falling against her, the warmth of his neck on her lips, his hands still roving over her back, a thought races through her mind that this should be all too much for her to handle. She's never let herself get this emotionally attached, this emotionally invested or involved. But her heart didn't give her a choice.
And right now, it should feel like it's too much. This feeling in her chest is usually the point where she says she needs space. But she can't.
She rolls herself off of him, but shimmies herself into the cove of his side. She wraps her arm back around his torso, summoning what little strength she has left in her and hugs him to her. His arm holds her to him, feeling the plush comforter being pulled over them.
She burrows deeper into his embrace, the rise and fall of his chest lulling her to sleep.
He presses his lips to her hair when she squeezes him like an over-sized teddy bear and holds her. He can tell she's already asleep. In his head, there was always more witty banter between them afterward. But in his head, this happened a long time ago. But being with her... she was perfect. He wouldn't change a damn thing. Especially now, feeling her leg vine itself around his leg and her snuggle herself against him.
She'll be here in the morning, don't worry, Rick. He tells himself as he burrows himself deeper into the covers he pulled over them. It's only the start of something amazing, and as much as he's looking forward to every single one, he can't wait to take whatever journey she wants to, step by step.
He wants to see how this story ends, but can tell that he'll have too much fun taking it page by page to worry about it.
A/N: I would tell you that I tried not to make it 50-shades-of-grey-esque, but I've never actually read that book. I know some people are picky when it comes to sex scenes, and honestly, I'm a little nervous about it. I've read my fair share, but never written one before. All I can ask is to be forgiving in your reviews.
Also, decided to go AU after this chapter. So no, I will not just retell the episode. That would be rather pointless.
And those following The Receiving End, I'm still working on the next chapter. Slow going, just tired of working on angsty stuff. Drains you with a quickness.