For the Dead Travel Fast
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It was reflex. Her elbow smashed up into his jaw and her forearm pinned his throat. Still gripping him by the wrist.
Castle gargled mid-snarl, but she was stronger and he was weakened enough by the Letting that even her post coital haze wasn't a problem. He thrashed in the seat, but she shifted to pin his shoulders, allowing him to breathe, his teeth flashing white in the security lamp's glare.
"Castle," she snapped.
He bucked.
"Don't you dare," she hissed at him, leaning into her forearm pinning him to the seat. "You promised you had control, and I am not restraining you, I'm not going to fight you off every time the damn blood lust—"
His eyes flashed, white-irised and unnatural, and she felt him stiff against her flank.
Oh. Lust.
A vampire's blood hunger was just another kind of need, desperation given strength.
Kate slid her forearm into his throat once more and he choked, thrashed weakly into her restraint. They'd done a bit of this, and she was intrigued by how hard he leaned into it. How very hard he leaned.
"Mm, is this what you want?" She released blood-slicked fingers from his wrist, slowly, and lifted her hand to touch that blood to her lips. "You taste so good."
Castle went still, staring at her mouth.
She licked.
"Fuck," he snarled. But he was still, absolutely still, transfixed by her movement.
Kate leaned in—stupid, to get that close to his teeth, but it was pure instinct, want—and her sticky lips touched his.
Castle moaned. But there was no bite in him, no savagery. He always had been a gentle giant.
She trailed her fingers down his shirt until she found the hem at his hips, inched her way back up again. Bare skin. Her fingers playing.
"Kate," he gasped. His voice was low, rich. A warning even as it was also a pleading.
She touched his flinching stomach with her blood-sticky fingers. "There's something so… erotic about my mouth on you," she murmured. "And this body of yours, I miss the softness, but hard is also so good." He'd always had muscle, but it was at the surface now, he was clenched with need. "Are you good?"
His eyes fixed on her mouth, a terrible need in those vampire whites.
"Can you be good?" She was certain he could, and any part of her that wasn't just added fuel to the fire. "For me, Rick?" she said. Her fingers tickled against his chest and he whined at her touch. "If you sit back, I'll give you something you want."
He blinked. She would not say he was insensible; he knew her, he knew himself. But the phase had him drugged, and she wasn't entirely certain how consenting he could possibly be.
Kate teased his abs as she watched his face flutter with sensation. That first morning after she'd gone to his loft and begged to be let in, confession good not only for the soul, she'd asked him even the thing where I— and he'd eagerly agreed he'd liked it so much, do anything to him, she had carte blanche.
She'd laughed, they hadn't talked much more about what she could or couldn't do because so much of their sex life involved a constant flow of words. He talked, and he touched as he talked, and she'd learned early that if she didn't demand what she needed she wouldn't get it. So had they ever had a conversation which wasn't about what they could do in sex? Yet never had they sat down and drawn up a contract of hard limits.
So as she ran her fingers down his stomach to his pants, she asked, "Do you want me to help you come? Or should I say... make you."
He nodded. His mouth was parted, his teeth long and digging into his bottom lip as if compressing a snarl.
"Don't hurt yourself," she chided softly. She kissed him—stupid, so close, too close—but he whimpered like a cringing animal. "Hush, don't worry, I can give you what you need."
She pulled down his zipper and his hips bucked, a groan dragged out of his throat. That was a noise she knew as God yes Kate and so she smiled and reached her hand into his boxers.
Castle gasped.
She leaned in and touched her mouth to his, her hand wrapping around him. His breathy noise against her lips was her consent, and she touched the soft velvet of his shaft.
He whimpered.
She loved this. The power of it, but also that he was so slack-jawed deep-dive in love with her. For too long, his love had been a burden she'd shouldered with such responsibility and fear, knowing at any moment she could do to him what her mother had done to her and her father. Knowing her life was forfeit. Certain she couldn't give him what he deserved, what she deserved of a love like this.
And now.
"You're so beautiful," she murmured against his jaw. She could feel the mad thump of his pulse under his skin. "You feel like love."
He twitched and jerked as she touched him. His breathing labored, his pulse racing, his heart pounding against her chest where she pressed their bodies close. The interior of the car was warm, a bold chiaroscuro under the security lamp that made the harsh bones of his chin and cheek almost painful.
He was so thin now. She curved her fingers at his throat; he was a vampire, he was with her in everything now. Where she had thought she was dooming him, he had saved her life. "I can't believe we made it here."
Castle's fingers curled over her wrist, as if taking her pulse. His eyes were white and far off, lost in the sensation she gave him, and she kissed the corner of his open mouth, ran her tongue, daringly, across his incisor.
He moaned, his mouth falling against hers, a heavy kiss that lacked all grace. She couldn't blame him, since she literally had him by the balls, but there was something so gorgeous about his rising desperation. His need for her.
She made a fist around him and stopped teasing. "Doing this dry, sorry babe." His head tossed against the seat back, as if to say who cares do it. One eye squinted, panting heavily, hips jerking into the tight fist she'd made around him. "When we can get out of the car…"
A rasp from him, the lock of his eyes. His voice, when it came, was ragged with emotion. "Kate." She hesitated, her name like that had caught her sideways. His gaze was mesmerizing. "Promises, promises."
She laughed, his lips were a snarl rather than a smile, but she kissed him roughly for how he tried for her, and she worked him hard and fast and brutal, the way he liked it when they were dark.
When his orgasm finally spilled out between them, his groan was slow to fade, his head falling back, all the energy sapped from him.
She didn't take her eyes off the glint of his teeth—she wasn't completely stupid—but she took her time cleaning him up (the tail of his shirt), tucking him inside (he was a big guy even vampire-thin), and now sliding off his lap to let him recover.
She checked the battery display; they had a few hours. She found a package of wet wipes in the glove box for her fingers. A fresh bandage from the kit, and she doctored his wrist where she'd taken her own pleasure.
Castle was snoring; she didn't bother hiding her smirk.
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