A/N: Unfortunately, this is already the last chapter, folks! If you haven't figured it out, or haven't heard the spoiler yet: [SPOILER ALERT] It was suggested in a recent article that Castle and Beckett had sex four times during their first night together. Maybe there will be a scene in the season premiere that alludes to that fact, who knows...

Anyway: this is Chapter 4, and as a little gift to everyone who (secretly or not-so-secretly) wished for it, we've upped the rating to an M!
This is now an M-rated story! Procede with caution!
Also: Enjoy!

This story has been a pleasure for the two of us. I hope it has been a pleasure to all of you dear readers who've blessed us with alerts and reviews :)
Thank you all very, very much!
Lina and Lu


Four.

It finally feels right.

The way his leg is thrown over her hip, his protective arm around her. She finally feels involved in his warmth, in the cocoon of his body while the sun rises outside and fills up the room with golden streaks of light and bits of dust floating above.

She turns around, her face ending up right on front of his while he sleeps, his mouth parted slightly, his expression finally relaxed. She traces the lines of his face with her index finger, stops at his mouth and kisses it softly. He stirs and she smiles against him, her hand coming up to rest behind his head.

He breathes out deeply, warm air that smells like him cascading down the side of her face, and she moves closer still, brushing her nose against his.

"Hmm" he murmurs, smacking his lips together like a child, completely adorable.

"Hey" she greets him, watches how his eyes blink open, one at a time, a startling bright blue, unfocussed and unseeing. She kisses him before he even fully wakes up, rolling half on top of him, her leg sliding easily between his.

Fitting. They fit together.

Her hand travels south, her fingers tracing the planes of his shoulders, finding a resting stop at the dimples on his lower back. She teases the small depression of skin and he buckles against her, his heavy-lidded eyes closing once more, his readiness pressing against her thigh.

She sighs against his mouth, his tongue so moist, so warm. His hands mirror hers, the journey taking them down, placing them on her buttocks. He pulls her against himself and she bites her lip, a small moan filling the quietness of the room.

"God, Rick." She murmurs into his neck and she's so very grateful that she's not wearing a single garment because when she turns in his arms, it makes it so much easier for things to unfold.

She knows he probably isn't sure whether he's awake already or still dreaming, but his broad palms find their targets without hesitation, kneading her small breasts and scraping down her toned stomach, teasing the inside of her thigh for only a second before they're on her. She's so wet already – or still, maybe – that he doesn't need much dexterous foreplay, and it's a good thing, too, because he's not really able to do much more than swipe over her and plunge into her and sink his teeth into her neck.

She moans loudly, grinding into his palm as he scissors his fingers, her butt pressing back into his groin, her left hand reaching behind her, fumbling blindly for him.

She pumps him once, twice, and he rewards her with a twist of his wrist, a pinch of her nipple, a sloppy line across her shoulder blade.

"God, Kate," he pants, his voice raw and dry like gravel road, deeper than usually and hitting her straight to her core. "What a way to wake up."

She sighs in agreement and brings her free hand down to join his, their fingers moving together for a bit before she slowly eases him away from her.

It doesn't take much effort; all she has to do is angle her hips back and he's sliding into her, a shallow stroke at first, then deep, then slow, then deep.

Oh god, he knows exactly what he's doing to her. He knows exactly what drives her insane.

Her hand finds his neck and pulls him to the side, moves her own head in order to give him a sloppy kiss. His hands are everywhere, his mouth on hers, his tongue tracing her lips and her teeth and the roof of her mouth and oh, goodness, he's good with his hands.

He keeps stroking softly, slowly, causing a buildup of pressure on her lower abdomen. They sigh in unison and suddenly he's rolling them over, lying on his back, her on top. Her feet are on each side of his hips, with his hand on her front and him, oh, so deep inside of her that she could scream.

This is definitely a change in perspective, she thinks as she starts moving up and down.

His other hand rests on her hip, not guiding her, just brushing slowly across her skin, his palms running over her bones, her backside, his fingers tripping up her spine as she increases her tempo.

He hits, oh, that spot inside her every time she sinks down, and, yeah, yeah right there, his pointer and middle finger providing just the right friction on every upward motion, and damn, if this is as good for him as it is for her, she's going to black out in half a minute.

As if he could read her mind, he holds her still all of a sudden, a tight grip on her upper thigh as he presses his fingers almost roughly against her, grinding and letting go, grinding again and flicking, and she flies, flies, clenching, doesn't know if she's screaming but feels hoarse when the trembling slows down.

"Wow."


"So it wasn't a dream?"

She chuckles from the bathroom as she hears his soft mutter, almost an afterthought as he wakes up. She has to admit that she has the same sensation — of being in a semi-conscious state, of feeling like all of that is just too good to be real, too fantastic to have actually happened.

And then there's the hickey on the underside of her breast, telling her just how real it all was. Deliciously so.

She buttons up his shirt and moves to the bedroom, finding him sitting against the headboard with a dazed smile on his face. His eyes meet hers as she sits in front of him, a shy smile on her face. Everything's different with the daylight, everything is stronger, more real. She's very fond of that notion.

"So, you liked it?" she asks, almost afraid to look. He nods like a schoolboy and she feels a sense of wonder bubbling up her chest. "Yeah, me too."