The Doorstep

Kate spends the cab ride leaning against his side, her legs draped over his lap. Outside the windows the city lights are racing by, but inside it is quiet, just the vibrations of the motor and the sounds of their combined breathing. One of Castle's hands rests on her thigh, warm and heavy, his presence both enticing and reassuring. She feels hazy and lulled, trying to grasp the reality that within the span of just a few hours they went from friends and partners to, well, more than friends, and here she is sitting almost on top of him and it doesn't feel awkward, it's just right, so magically easy.

Castle smiles at her, silent and content, just keeps smiling at her with an expression so adoring and amazed and slightly stunned that it makes her stomach flutter, her fingers, her heart. She wants to leap on him, draw him onto her, into her, hold him by the ears and drag his mouth to her lips so he kisses her again.

He kissed her so heatedly, outside on the sidewalk, devouring and aching and strong, seemingly never-ending until they both gasped for air and she clung to him with her fingernails clenched into his chest. And he hasn't kissed her since, and it's been ten minutes, and really that is too long and he needs to just do that again, right now.

She smiles at him from the side, looking up from underneath her eyelashes, bites her lip. His eyes darken, and she runs her fingertips along the heated skin of his neck, teases the tendons and muscles with her nails. His breathing quickens, but his look turns playful, a fiery spark in his eyes. The hand on her thigh starts moving, almost imperceptibly at first, but then she feels his fingertips inching further inside, grazing the seam of her jeans, then higher, just a little, slow and teasing. A trail of fire that's singeing her skin and she clenches her thighs tightly around his hand, gasps, her eyes fluttering.

His mouth is close now, his hot breath whispers against her lips and she clamps her hand around the back of his neck, holding him to her, can almost taste his kiss again, his warm lips, his flavor, a touch of mint and a little bit sweet and a lot manly, enticing, she wants more, wants all of it.

She jolts forward; the car has stopped.

"We here," the driver knocks against the plastic partition of the cab, grinning widely at them.

She giggles, hides her face against Castle's neck for just a moment where she can feel the answering chuckle dancing through his chest. She drops a soft quick kiss against the side of his neck, adds a scrape of her teeth, because his skin is fragrant and inviting and she's right there and she can. He swallows heavily.

With slightly shaky hands he reaches for his wallet, leans forward to pay while she pulls her legs off his lap and sits up straight.

In the elevator they stand a respectable distance apart, mostly because old Mr. Petrowski from 4C had apparently chosen midnight as the appropriate time to check his mail, and is now loudly complaining about Mrs. Yarnick's yapping Chihuahua in 3F and why can't the NYPD just do something about that?

Kate hides a smile, listens to his issues and politely answers his questions while Castle uses the opportunity to subtly graze his fingers along the back of her knuckles. Her fingers twitch, which he takes as an unspoken invitation to explore further. Slowly he sneaks underneath her sleeve until he encounters bare skin, and then circles his fingers around to the underside of her wrist. She wavers, has to lock her knees.

With his fingertips he circles along her wrist, follows the slim veins, then round and round again over her tender skin. She swallows, her eyelashes flutter and so she nods exaggeratedly at Mr. Petrowski to cover it up, yes yes I'll look into it.

Finally they reach her floor; the elevator dings and she scoots past the old man, bids him a good night. Castle comes to her side again; tenderly he rests his palm against her lower back as he walks her to her door. His touch strokes the embers low in her belly, setting her skin aflame, a hot glow to her cheeks.

They reach her doorstep and she digs through her purse for her keys while he crowds against her from behind, his entire body close, so close to hers, not touching but the space is so minimal that she can almost feel him against her back. Her hands are shaky; she tries to breathe, fumbles through her purse until she finally manages to wrap her fingers around the door key, pull them out.

Kate turns around, faces him. With her heels they are about the same height and she doesn't have to look up to catch his eyes. They are dark blue in the dim hallway, shine at her intensely, full of passion and desire but covered by that ever-present layer of ardent admiration and respect for her, and she quivers inside. Nobody has ever looked at her like that.

"Castle," she whispers, runs her fingers up his chest, rests them over his heart, "I had a wonderful ti..."

The rest of the words never make it because his mouth is on hers, capturing her lips. He wraps an arm around her back, the other delves into her hair while he slowly explores, deeply, intensely. He draws her bottom lip into his mouth, sucks lightly on it, nips with his teeth and sparks ignite under her skin. She moan, wraps her arms around his neck, pulls him tighter to her body, her fingers twirling into the short soft hair at his nape.

"Me too," he murmurs into her mouth and she nods, hums in dazed acknowledgement. Then his tongue travels along her lips as if he is memorizing their shape, before he slips inside her mouth and she meets him and it's feverish and powerful and weakens her knees and she is clinging to his body, wishes she could melt inside of him.

And then it's slower, aching and beautiful and he kisses her lips tenderly, once, twice, then again before they pull apart, and she slumps against the frame of her door, boneless and aroused and content and weak.

He bends, picks up the keys that she must have dropped at some point, folds them into her palm.

"Good Night, Kate," he murmurs with a warm joyful smile, his hand still cradling hers.

She smiles at him, can't wipe the silly grin off her face. "Until tomorrow, Castle," she whispers, runs her tongue along her lips where she can still savor his taste.

His eyes widen as he stares at her lips, darken with a flash and he leaps forward, pounces on her, his lips fervent as he takes her mouth once more, deep and fast, pushing her back against the door and their bodies align, front to front. She can't get enough, explores the depths of his mouth, his shape and texture, suckles his lips while she pulls him tightly to her, wraps a leg around his hip. His middle is cradled against her hips and his hands are inside her coat, traveling the waistband of her jeans until he finds purchase against her skin, skimming his fingertips along her lower back and she arches against him, her hips lifting and she groans darkly into his mouth.

His fingers tighten against her back, stilling her movement and slowly, slowly they come to, tumble back toward the earth. Kissing her more slowly, he calms her, soothes the deep yearning inside of her though she wonders how successful it is for him, given how his heart is racing. She drops her leg back to the ground, rests her palm against his heart once more, cradles his cheek with her other hand.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" she murmurs against his mouth, placing a tender kiss on his lips.

He nods, kisses her. "Tomorrow."

One more kiss, and then she quickly turns, opens her door and slips inside. Before she can change her mind.