A/N: Apparently I lied before when I marked this as 'Complete'. This story wasn't over yet.


They stumbled down the hallway of her floor nearly two and a half hours later and the second she got the front door open, she was pulling him inside and using his body to slam the door shut.

She had tortured him the entire ride to the precinct, trailing her hot, slim fingers along his thigh, up to the seam of his pants, treacherously making him grow hard when they were only minutes away from the station. He had glared at her in the darkness and finally she had stopped, given him the opportunity to calm himself, but his pants were still tight and uncomfortable when they got out of the car and headed inside the Twelfth.

Their talk with Montgomery was thankfully brief, just an informative discussion and a promise from the captain that he would find whoever did this. Although, Castle wasn't too upset with whomever had decided to abduct them and then leave them stranded in her car that night. Obviously, the result had been pretty incredible.

They had received some more teasing from the boys of course, but the taunting talk of hickeys only made his impatience thrive, because he was determined to paint her skin with his mouth in other places, private places, leave a type of evidence on her that no one else would be able to see but him.

She had become downright cruel in the cab ride to her apartment, and he had almost been shocked by the boldness of her wandering hands and the unashamed press of her open mouth at his neck, any and all concern for the driver in the front seat nonexistent as they practically made out like teenagers in the backseat for the twenty minutes it took to get to her place.

And now she wasn't holding back at all, feeling him up in the elevator and using her dexterous fingers to unbutton his shirt for the second time that night as they tripped down her fortunately empty hallway.

"Talk," she gasped as she slid his shirt from his shoulders and trailed her mouth down the line of his throat, nipping along his collarbone. "You said we had to talk."

She wrapped a leg around his waist and he pressed his upper thigh hard against her core, eliciting a loud keening noise he'd never imagined he would hear from her.

"This first," he growled, lifting her other leg and nearly losing his balance even with the hard surface of the door at his back when she began to aggressively roll her hips into his. "Fuck, Beckett,"

"Yes," she groaned.

Yeah, not much talking was going to happen right now.

He pushed off from the door and tried not to drop her as he managed to find his way into her bedroom and deposit her writhing body at the edge of the unmade bed. She immediately started unbuttoning her shirt and he easily got her slacks down and off her legs, tossing them and then her underwear somewhere across the room.

He kneeled at the floor and nudged her thighs apart, positioning one leg over his shoulder, and then leant forward, trailed his lips along her inner thighs until he reached her center.

She arched violently from the bed when his mouth touched her and he had to keep a bruising grip on her hips to stop her from involuntarily jerking away from him. He slid his tongue along her folds, teasing and tasting her, growing bolder with the strokes of his tongue the louder and more desperate her moans became.

When he placed his mouth to her already swollen clit, her fingers tangled almost painfully in his hair, nails digging into his scalp, and when he eased two fingers inside her, her heel collided with his shoulder blade. It only took a few deep, curling plunges of his fingers to have her shattering, biting so hard on her bottom lip that the soft flesh blanched white.

He helped her come down moments later, cleaning away the evidence of her arousal with his tongue while she rode the final waves of coursing pleasure and caught her breath, and then she was tugging gently on his hair, urging him upwards.

He rose from his now aching knees and followed her body as she inched higher on the bed, dropping her head to the pillow and sighing contently when he kissed his way up her abdomen, her sternum, up to her lips.

She had rid herself of her bra probably around the same time he noticed her shirt flying over his head while he was disposing of her pants, and seeing her body completely bared under the dim lamplight of her bedroom had him staring and unable to look away. She was stunning, more stunning than he had ever envisioned even with his vivd writer's imagination.

Her hands roamed his naked back in an admiration of their own, mapping the landscape of muscles, the valleys of skin, and ridges of bone; everywhere she touched igniting a fire in her wake, burning him even as he touched her back. Sweeping his fingers down the ripples of her ribcage and along the supple hills of her breasts while he caressed her lips with his own.

When her hands completed their journey, one slid between them, slipped him free through the slit in the boxers he still wore and stroked the length of him, squeezing lightly and creating the best kind of friction.

He used the hand that wasn't palming her breast to get his boxers down his legs and finally kick them off.

Her body was ready for him when he nudged his tip along her slick entrance and Kate tilted her hips upward as he glided inside her in one smooth thrust.

A whimper clawed its way out of her throat as he pulled almost all the way out and drove into her again, and she lifted her head to kiss his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. Her legs locked securely around his waist, spurring him deeper with every thrust.

"Oh god," she murmured breathlessly into his skin. "Faster, Castle, please."

He quickened his speed and lowered his mouth to her breast once more, taking her nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue. She mewled and wrapped one arm tightly around his neck while the other lowered to cup his firm ass and pull him tighter against her.

Their rhythm quickly grew sloppy as they came closer to the edge, frantic, and he had to concentrate hard to keep from finishing before her. All it takes is one final twist of his hips, one final, purposeful brush of his body against hers, and she was coming undone around him. He gasped her name into her neck as his own orgasm rippled up his spine and he fell with her.

Kate held his body to hers as they came back down, sifting her fingers through his hair and turning her lips into his forehead while he listened to the steadying pound of her heart against her ribs.

"We need food," she whispered suddenly and he huffed a laugh against her cheek, carefully lifted himself from the warm, sated line of her body and slipped free from her.

"I'll call for Chinese. You have that wine?"

She nodded while he rose from the bed, pulled his boxers on and retrieved his phone from his discarded pants.

"You know what I like?" she asked as he dialed the number, and he narrowed his gaze on her teasingly.

"I think it's quite obvious I know what you like, Kate Beckett."

She rolled her eyes at the cheesy remark and he watched her saunter into the bathroom, picking up his shirt along the way, her naked form distracting enough that he almost forgot to speak when his call was answered.


He was in her living room, admiring the place when she came out in only his dress shirt, smiling shyly as his eyes roved up and down her figure like he didn't know exactly what was underneath the clothing.

"Dinner should be here soon," he informed her and she nodded a little awkwardly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Castle, did you still want to talk?"

Oh, yeah. That was sort of high on his to do list for the night. After her of course.

He nodded and she headed for the kitchen, reaching for two wine glasses in one of the higher cabinets while she told him to get comfortable. He sat down on the sectional couch she had settled in the middle of the three large windows that lined one of the walls of her apartment, his eyes still wandering over the new home he had yet to see. It was a beautiful place really, styled perfectly to her taste everywhere he looked.

He was busy studying the large print that covered the entirety of the wall beside him, attempting to unravel the story of the woman running from what looked like a world of chaos, when she returned with two glasses of red and settled on the opposite end of the couch from him, curling her knees to her chest and apparently waiting for him to begin.

"I just - I want us to be clear," he started hesitantly, cradling his wineglass between his palms and staring into the red liquid as if it could give him the courage he needed to have this conversation. "I don't want this to be just a physical thing-"

"It's not," she cut in immediately, placing her own untouched glass on the coffee table. "I realize that maybe talking first might have been smarter, but I do..." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, as if she was searching for the right words and frustrated with herself when they didn't come easy. "I do want this. Us."

"Did you want it before I left, before the summer?"

She bit her lip and diverted her gaze, but nodded in affirmation.

"That day, I'd hoped to go with you. To the Hamptons. I had broken up with Tom and I thought we could maybe test the waters there, see how we worked outside the precinct."

He scrubbed his hands down his face. She had basically broken up with her boyfriend for him. She was going to go to the Hamptons with him. The anguish rushed over him in waves.

"Damn," was all he could manage.

"Yeah," she sighed, resting her chin on her raised knees.

"I hate that we missed out on that. That we could've been together so much sooner." he said mournfully, but she unfurled from her position in the corner and moved to his side, captured his hand in hers.

"Maybe it was for the best," she reasoned, staring down at the hand ensnared between the two of hers. "I don't believe we've ever had great timing, but maybe any sooner than this and we would have fallen apart."

"You think so?" He didn't necessarily like that train of thought, the idea of finally being able to have her only to lose her too soon.

She shrugged. "We'll never know. We're in this now though, and I'm - I think we have a good chance."

His heart leapt at that; the fact that she had faith in them. He'd always believed approaching the idea of a relationship with her would be much harder, that she would fight him on it until he was somehow able to convince her that they were worth a shot, but she seemed ready. Ready to dive in with him.

Castle raised the hand not tangled with hers to cup her jaw, felt a strong mixture of excitement and affection surge through him when she turned her face into his touch. He'd just leaned in to kiss her when the loud ring of the buzzer to her apartment startled them both.

"I think you should get your pants," she chuckled as he huffed and went to retrieve his slacks from her bedroom, quickly pulling them on over his boxers before jogging to the door.

They ate contently on her couch, bent over her coffee table while they talked around forkfuls of their favorite brand of Chinese takeout. The case was discussed briefly, not much to be said about it until morning when she would have her notes and murder board in front of her, and after two glasses of wine, Kate was tugging him back to the bedroom and guiding him under the crisp, cool sheets with her.

He was pleased to see the next morning that she awoke beside him with a fresh hickey on the swell of her breast and another at the jut of her hipbone, putting the bruise on her neck to shame.


Now this is the final chapter. I hope it lived up to the expectations of those who wanted more.

Thank you all again for reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting. Your kind support is what gives me the confidence to post anything at all.