For the Dead Travel Fast
—-xxx—-
Tthe taste of her had always been addictive, vampire enhancement or no. Her arousal on his tongue and the wild panic of her hips so that he had to hold her down—well, maybe the vampire in him liked that too.
She was panting and weak-fingered as she tried to catch at his ears. He chuckled and kissed the rise of her hip bone after, watched her shift up on her elbows on the center console in that fumbling post-coital way. "Castle," her gasp, her eyes as dilated as darkness. Even as the sun spilled across her body. "How am I the only one naked here?"
"Not going bare-assed to the soybeans," he said. "Their tender young eyes." He bent his head to kiss just above her navel—she sucked in a breath and palmed the back of his head, whimpered.
"Go bare-assed if I tell you to," she growled. "Damn the soybeans."
He grinned against the sag of her breast and fingered a little between her legs to remind her of where he'd been, what he'd done for her. Kate hissed something dirty and tilted forward as if to undress him herself.
Castle hastily backed off, slapping her knee. "Get in back if you're so determined to have it. The logistics are all wrong in the driver's seat."
She narrowed her eyes at him, wound those long, strong legs around his lower ribs and squeezed. "Get in back?" She tilted forward, entirely too gorgeous, too naked, too damn strong, and now wrapped her body around him, her fingers trailing down to fuck him up. "How about we do this right here. I said: Get. Naked."
He should've given her two orgasms; maybe then she'd be less demanding.
As it was, his shorts were far too easy for her to drop, the shirt was off in the dirt (ruined he moaned), she was laughing a little at the underwear but she'd been the one to pack it, and as she chuckled in her throat against his throat, she was reaching for what reached back for her. Eagerly.
"Oh," he gasped.
"Oh is right," she vibrated, touching him. "Feel how strong you are."
"Blatant flattery will get you everywhere," he muttered, gritting his teeth. Trying to shift back a little to—
"No, no. Little closer now," she hummed, as if seducing him.
His arms flexed instinctively around her, loosened again because he remembered how to do battle once more: light skimming touches up her spine and into her hair, trace her jaw until she slackened, until she went warm and pliant and his show of tenderness, and then he took a soft and delicate kiss from her mouth.
She whimpered again, lost her plot. He was free to weave whatever story he liked now, and he wrote letters against her skin in his own careful spell, wondering whether her lips were magic themselves, or if it was all, and always had been, the fascination of a vampire for mouths.
He cupped her breasts, let his thumbs paint secret symbols around her nipples. A different story, no less compelling.
She breathed his name, Rick please, against his tongue. Kissed him again, slow, lush. She gripped him, nails digging into his backside, as she widened her thighs for him. "Come on then," she said. "Right here. Don't waste any time."
He groaned, but whatever magic he'd been weaving had always been hers, siphoned straight to her, and when he pressed in to find her, she was there, hot, ready, a kind of secret he longed to be told. He leveraged her wider with his forearms; she clung to him for a moment and then dropped back to the console, giving herself over to him, to however he wanted to have her.
He was aware she was a great gift. He was aware of everything, and there was a moment, right when he was notched just there, that their eyes met. Rippling with love.
And a lot of lust.
He pressed inside her. She groaned and clutched around him, using muscles she had to exercise regularly, for her to be so damn good at this. "Yeah," she whispered. "Come here."
"I'm already here," he growled. But he reached out and grabbed her by the arms and hauled her into him, giving her the chance to wind her legs around him once more, their chests sealed with sweat.
She shivered, gripping hard enough to score him with her nails, more than just a hint of desperation in the urgent rock of her hips.
"Not going anywhere," he had to tell her. Promise her, his mouth against the thumping beat in her throat. "Right here, always be right here." And what a bizarrely right promise it was to make, fresh with the knowledge that he could, because their lifespans matched once more, because he was, even now, transitioning to vampire for her. With her. Because of her.
He gripped her by the back of the neck and slammed deep.
She moaned, head thrown back. He was entranced by the gulping of her throat, the pulse of her heartbeat there, just there, again there. In time to his thrusts. In time to their love. "Always right here, deep inside you. Never going anywhere."
Her fingers loosened. "You could if you wanted," she whispered, in between his thrusts. "Don't let this chain you—"
"Third time's the charm," he reminded her, pushing deeper into her body. Claiming more, taking more. "You're stuck with me now."
She shuddered, knowing his pace was her punishment for speaking of leaving, but she persisted anyway. "I don't want the vampire of things to bind you to me if you just couldn't take it anymore—"
"Everything binds me to you," he growled. "And you to me. You're mine."
Her head snapped up, her eyes locked on his. "Oh whoops," she breathed. Eyes went wide. "Shit." She cupped his face, her breath fast, her body pulsing around him. "Your eyes are white as snow."
He growled again, battling at the possession in him, the need to sink his teeth into her throat and shake her. "We should stop," he choked, gripping her too hard. His body was on fire, a brand repeatedly sinking into her flesh, and even though he was afraid of going into phase while inside her, he was still thrusting in an unbreakable rhythm. "Do you think we—should stop?" Please no.
"My fault, no, my fault," she breathed, dusted his lips with hers, her heart a jackrabbit against his fingers. "I'm yours, you're mine, you were right. Bound forever now. Can't ever leave me."
"Forever," he croaked, trying very hard to hold it back, the fever, the burning, the need to possess her.
"No, please," she whined. "Don't stop."
Castle groaned, buried his face at her neck. He couldn't stop fucking her if he tried, and he had tried, and she felt delicious and wonderful and icy-burning around him and every mad thump of her pulse was an echo in his balls that claimed, claimed, claimed.
"Fuck yes," she groaned. "That's it." Riding him harder, gripping the steering wheel with one hand and his neck with her other, driving herself onto his cock. "Harder, Castle. Harder."
"Damn it," he growled. "Damn you. Love you too much."
"Good, it's good, just like this—"
"Don't let me bite you," he snapped out.
"You couldn't," she moaned. "I'd never let you." Her hips were lifting into the thrust of his, and if he bruised her now, well, he'd warned her. He had warned her. She was his.
Her orgasm hit first, a shockwave that rolled over them both. But he had no time to really treasure it, no time to revel in what he'd made happen, because his own climax was bearing down on him fast.
He shook.
But it was her teeth that scored his throat, ragged and sudden, and her sudden suckling at his neck that shot fire through his guts and made his orgasm explode.
Rockets and napalm. Burning and howling in blood.
—-xxx—-
He'd been mindless for too long. When he came to, he was knee-knocked into the running board of the SUV, draped over her thighs with her legs in a vise around his ribs, holding him up.
She had bent herself over his back, was soothing him with the soft sound of her song, her fingers trailing up and down his spine.
He groaned.
"You with me now?" she whispered, a laugh in there somewhere that he found entirely inappropriate.
Or only too appropriate. He was a mess.
"No?" she laughed again. Her fingers were cool against his sweaty shoulders. Into his hair. "If you can crawl into the back—where you tried to put me, might I mention—we can cuddle a moment, let you get back your sea legs."
He wanted to poke her sides for that, but he was truly wiped out, a heady sensation of possession tangled with a contented sense of being possessed.
She slapped his ass. "Get going, Castle. The soybeans are scandalized enough as it is."
—-xxx—-