A/N: This is the M-rated version of Chapter 20 of If You See Kate. Read on, peeps!


"Kate," he murmurs.

"Hmm?" she asks between pressing a second kiss to his palm and reaching out with her own hand to run her fingers over his jaw and the five o'clock shadow there. For a moment he squeezes his eyes shut tight, convinced he must still be in bed, dreams fulfilling one of the many fantasies he has about Kate Beckett. But when he opens them, she's still there, facing him with a half-smile, one lip trapped between her teeth, and her hand on his face. He can see the intent before she even moves, a grin of his own curving his lips just moments before her mouth descends on his.

It's a single press of her lips and then she's gone, leaving him wanting.

"What are you doing?" The words slip out before he can stop them, probably making him sound like a petulant five year old, but she just laughs, a light chuckle that reminds him of their day in the park with ice cream, the only remnant of innocent nineteen year old Kate.

Leaning towards him once more, she starts at the right corner of his mouth and moves left, each kiss lingering longer than the last.

"Better?" she asks, not even bothering to draw away from him.

"Almost," he replies, the low pitch of his voice vibrating against her lips. Sliding his hand through her hair, he rests his palm against the nape of her neck, allowing her no escape as he purposefully brushes his lips against hers again. The short strands of her hair brush his wrist as she tilts her head and for a few moments, he stops noticing anything other than the feel of her soft lips against his.

She tastes different; he thinks absently as she draws away and rests her forehead against his. Unlike last time, he can't taste a hint of vanilla. Instead the bitter tang of saltwater coats both of their lips now.

Staring at her lips, he wonders how she managed to end up effectively sitting in his lap without noticing. He can feel her weight settled against him now as well as the grip of her fingers in the right sleeve of his t-shirt. And as her lips are no longer working insistently against his, demanding his attention, he begins to notice everything else. The rapid rise and fall of her chest. The warmth of her breath over his chin. The light flush on her cheeks. The now familiar smell of cherries becoming more noticeable every time he runs his fingers through her hair. All of it widens his smile.

Taking his hand, Kate lifts herself from the couch and starts towing him towards the only other source of light, guessing that it's his bedroom. He walks slowly behind her, allowing her to set the pace and take in the details of his office and then his bedroom, the simple, masculine space he occupies. He notices her slight pause at the threshold but says nothing, just runs his thumb over the back of hand, marvelling once more at how soft and smooth it is.

His touch seems to restart her. Moments later she's leading the way to the bed and turning him around, pushing lightly to get him to sit at the end of the bed. Keeping her touch light, she stands before him and runs her hands down his neck and his torso, avoiding his injured shoulder. She smiles at his closed eyes and the shudder running through him.

As carefully as she can manage, she pulls his black shirt up and over his body, leaving him with no doubt where this is going. She has to remove the sling to accomplish the task, but as soon as she's facing his bare chest, she puts it back on, much to his disappointment. Having one hand drawn up to his torso makes it that much harder to touch her. But he still tries, reaching out with the other to slide his palm to her waist, enjoying feathering his fingers against her underneath her shirt.

He has to watch as she makes swift work of her buttons, leaving the shirt lying open for a few moments before she encourages him to lie back and shuffle back up the bed. It's awkward and slow with just one elbow for leverage, but eventually his head hits the pillow and she's shucked the shirt, leaning over him with just her bra and black leggings. He toys with the waistband, running his fingers just above it and occasionally dipping under it to watch her breath catch on a moan. He just grins and continues his actions until she kisses him once before twisting onto her back beside him and pushing the leggings down her legs.

The new expanse of skin is so fun to explore once she rolls back to straddle him. Her torso is all but forgotten as his hand trails down her thigh, stroking at the back of her knee where he knows she has an erogenous zone somewhere. His attention is drawn elsewhere however, when one of her arms disappears from his ribs and instead reaches around to her bra, unclasping it and throwing the article of clothing somewhere out of sight.

He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help trying to sit up. His weak effort has Beckett pushing on his chest and lowering herself to him instead.

A groan spills out of him when her hip brushes against his raging erection, and he grips, trying to keep her there even if it's just for a moment. While he attempts to regain some semblance of control and not blow his load there and then like a teenager because this whole experience is strangely really doing it for him, Kate begins peppering him with kisses – his forehead, his nose, his cheek, his chin and finally his neck, where she lingers as a second sound of pleasure escapes him.

He can feel the stretch of her lips and the gentle press of her teeth – tell-tale signs of her grinning at how completely she's affecting him.

"Condom?" she asks, still kissing his neck, her teeth occasionally nipping.

"Top drawer, left side of the bed," he mutters, groaning when she shifts her weight again and one of her thighs settles right over his erection. He watches her root around before she retrieves the box of Trojan condoms out and sets it on top of the bedside for a moment. Centring her weight with a leg either side of him, Kate trails her mouth down his torso, easing backwards until the waistband of his grey jogging bottoms meet her eyes. She flashes a look at him before dipping her fingers under and beginning to tug them down his legs, licking his hip and teasing her fingers around the head of his cock.

"Kate!" he warns sharply when her tongue flicks out to get the drop of pre-come about to fall down the length of him. If she wraps her lips around him there's no way he's going to be able to manage a second round with her.

Nodding, Kate withdraws and grabs the condom again. Her nimble fingers easing the latex down his length almost makes him lose it again. His fingers curl into tight fists as he fights, almost at the point of picturing his mother naked just to calm his body's reaction to her. God, it's hot, Beckett sheathing him like that.

Sensing how close he is from just a few touches, Kate wastes no time in removing the last of her clothing, leaving her knickers on his bedroom floor and guiding him to her entrance. His eyes roll back into his head as she sinks down on him until the backs of her thighs are flush with his legs.

Her movement to lean backwards and grip his knees is slow, allowing him to feel every ripple of her muscles around him. He groans and tightens his grip on her leg, fingers digging into her skin hard enough that they'll likely leave bruises. And when she rocks slightly, rolling her hips against his, he knows that this is going to be embarrassingly short-lived. His hips automatically jerk, thrusting up into her. She emits a gasp, finding that being on top is better with Castle than it's ever been with anyone.

The view she's giving him, arching her back as she slides up and down his length, nipples pert, makes him wish more than anything he could move his arm and pull her down against him. He wants to be able to feel her whole body against his, to be able to kiss her if he wants, to maybe put his lips elsewhere on her body – he can think of some places that would drive her absolutely wild and pull keening sounds from her throat – but he knows that there's no way she's going to put any weight on his shoulder. If getting stabbed hadn't brought them together like this again, he might actually regret it.

She's riding him so well, he can feel his testicles tightening within minutes. There's no way he'll finish and leave her hanging though. His fingers find her clit easily, circling slowly to elicit those moans that make him harder. When her thighs tighten their hold on his body and her breaths are echoing in the room he knows she's close.

"Oh God, Castle," escapes her as one of his digits – so lost in the pleasurable sensations they're making together that she doesn't even know which one – flicks quickly over her clitoris.

He does it again, feeling her muscles start to tense and it happens in an instant. She falls forward, placing a palm in the centre of his chest to stay somewhat upright as her walls clench around him and send him over the edge, only vaguely away of his hips lifting off the bed to pump into her a few more times.

Her mouth hangs open, eyes shut, fingernails digging into his skin as the trembles wash through her and if it isn't the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, he doesn't know what is.


He stays awake longer than her, subconsciously wanting to be sure she's not intending to run again. It's obvious from how quickly she's relaxed in his bed, lying beside him with one of her legs intertwined between his and a hand resting easily atop his stomach however, that she's going nowhere. It puts him at ease and he drifts for a moment, simply enjoying the feel of having a weight beside him once more, a body that feels more right than either Meredith or Gina ever did. Unable to resist, he presses a sleepy kiss to whichever part of her face he can easily reach without having to lift his head from the pillow. It could have been her nose or her temple, he has no idea because, before he can look, he's falling asleep.


He wakes to startlingly bright eyes inches from his face.

"Hi," he mumbles, yawning and wincing as his effort to stretch pulls on the stitches in his shoulder.

"You okay?" she questions, soothing her fingers down his neck. "Need some pain meds?" His bandages and the dressing keep her from seeing the damage, but she knows from experience how irritating stitches and healing wounds can be. And she's all too aware that she might have caused him more pain, much as she tried to be careful, during their night-time activities.

He grunts an affirmation and nods towards the ajar bathroom door.

"Top shelf of the medicine cabinet," he directs, watching her slither from the bed and walk naked into his bathroom, completely unabashed when she returns and catches him staring. She brings back his prescription and a tumbler of water, helping him to sit up and swallow two of the painkillers, before sitting back to simply look at him and appreciate him, this forgiving man. "What?"

"Nothing," she responds slowly, shaking her head but smiling nonetheless. "Breakfast?"


"Detective Beckett?"

"Oh, hey Alexis, I thought I'd drop in on my way to work to see how your dad was doing," Kate says as she spots the redhead coming down the stairs, looking at her in confusion. "I took pity on him when I noticed him trying to flip pancakes one handed."

Castle sighs and fixes her with a mock glare, but it's true he couldn't quite manage the frying pan and the spatula with his left arm pulled up against his chest to keep him from moving it and tearing his stitches.

It doesn't take long for Martha to appear and kiss his cheek before sliding into her usual seat beside Alexis. And once Kate has finished frying the last of the batter, they eat together, the four of them.

Nobody says a word about the rumpled state of her shirt, or the fact that she's wearing leggings rather than the usual slacks she wears to work even though it's painfully obvious. In fact for a few moments nobody says anything at all.

"How's school, Alexis?" Kate asks haltingly, wanting to break the awkward silence.

"Fine, I guess. I'm presenting my English project today." She pauses to pop a small square of one of her pancakes into her mouth and chews it slowly before continuing. "It's an analysis of the recurrent themes in Moby Dick."

Eyes wide, Kate swallows, the unchewed food stretching her oesophagus until the strawberry and pancake can go no further and are lodged somewhere in her throat. She coughs and splutters, face flushing red from embarrassment, though everyone else immediately leaps to their feet, worrying that it's the oxygen deprivation instead.

"Kate!"

Castle's hand pats her back, perhaps a little more forcefully than necessary – sending her leaning forwards over her plate to no avail. Standing, he pulls out her chair and helps her out of it before wrapping one arm around her, squeezing tight and somehow managing a Heimlich manoeuvre. It takes a moment, but eventually she coughs again and expels the two offending objects over her plate, breathing deeply from the effort.

"I'm fine," she gasps, aware of the three of them hovering around her with looks of concern. She shifts and loses the thick band of muscle holding her against Castle's chest, whirling around as she remembers his injury and the fact that he'd been physically hauling her up and squeezing her middle. He has to have done something. "Oh, God, your shoulder!"

He shakes his head and squeezes her arm. "'m fine." It's gruff, but he can feel his mother and daughter watching them.

"Let me see it," she demands, fingers already darting to the hem of his t-shirt, the one she'd had to help him into. He can see from the fire in her eyes that she's not going to take no for an answer, so he spins and heads back towards his bedroom, expecting her to follow. As soon as they're away from his family's prying eyes, she begins carefully lifting the shirt up his body, pausing to undo his sling and hold his arm in position while her other hand works at pulling the sleeve of stretchy cotton over it. "Alexis knows, doesn't she?" she mutters as she peels away the tape holding his dressing down and inspects the stitches, gently pressing her fingers against the surrounding skin and gauging his reactions.

"Knows what?"

"About Katherine Harlow- about me."

"Oh." It brings him up short. He hasn't told Alexis, but he doesn't know if she's worked out herself that she once met Beckett before. "I don't know," he admits. "It's possible-"

"-You think?" she cuts in, accidentally poking him harder and making him wince. She mumbles an apology and replaces the dressing.

"She is doing a project on Moby Dick. Maybe that's all there is to it."

"Maybe," Beckett concedes, still worrying her lip however. "I think your shoulder's fine by the way."

He nods and waits for her to tug his shirt back on before going back out into the kitchen, unsurprised to find his mother and daughter both watching the two of them.

If they didn't suspect something was going on between them before, they do now. And he's not sure that's what Beckett wants.

He stops worrying about that though ten minutes later when she's finished her breakfast and is getting ready to leave and go to work. It seems that stunning him with a quick kiss to his lips is just one of her preparations. Martha and Alexis stare after her too as she hurries to the front door and leaves, calling out a goodbye.

"Something you want to tell us, Richard?"


She pauses on the other side of the door. Did she- Did she just kiss him? In front of his family?

She did, didn't she?

Expecting to break into a panic, Kate presses her knuckles to her mouth but finds her fingers touching a smile instead. She presses her lips together and tries to hide it but a short laugh comes out instead. So what if his family saw her kiss him. It probably won't be the last time, she thinks, starting forwards again and heading to the elevator. She has a job to get to; she can't stand outside his apartment all day.