She didn't even have time to take a breath before he dropped to his knees directly in front of her and pulled her into a searing kiss. Somewhere in the thinking part of her brain, she heard herself comment that he sure wasn't waiting for her this time… But that part of her brain shut off as he slipped his tongue between her lips.
Again, it was as if something had snapped inside him, as though she had given him permission to take this step, and he wasn't going to give her a chance to change her mind. The speed and the force of it all made her feel giddy, a little out of control. She'd almost forgotten how good it felt to give up her control to someone she trusted.
One of his hands twined into her hair, tugging with just a little more force than was comfortable. His tongue was exploring her mouth insistently but unobtrusively, as if trying to learn it, memorize its taste and texture. His other hand gripped her thigh, slowly sliding its way up to her hip, finally reaching around her waist to pull her forward and flush against him. Her legs, entirely without the permission of her brain, wrapped around him to pull him even tighter against her. She was immediately aware of his impressive state of arousal, and she felt warmth pooling at her core. He slid his hands to the hem of her shirt and made contact with skin just above her hipbones.
She felt alive, which was decidedly not what she had been feeling since leaving the hangar. And she felt something else. She couldn't quite put her finger on it: a heady mix of lust, and repressed feelings finally surfacing, and maybe just a little bit of happiness. That last one was a surprise. It shouldn't be part of her emotional vocabulary after what they had been through in the last 48 hours.
She gripped his shoulders, feeling his muscles flex under her hands. She needed to feel more of him. Right now. The need for air became overpowering, and their lips parted with an audible pop. She reached down and pulled her black turtleneck over her head, suddenly glad she had run out of sensible underwear that morning and worn one of her few frivolous lacy bras. She pinned him with what she hoped was a sultry look of invitation. As if he would need any more invitation that her current state of semi-dress.
Rick's eyes widened, but to his credit, they didn't stray immediately to her chest. She reached for the buttons on his midnight blue dress shirt and made quick work of removing it. She tugged his undershirt over his head, and as soon as his arms were free, he reached for her and pulled her tight against his chest. When skin met skin, she both felt and heard his rumbling growl and let out one of her own. He immediately directed his lips to the line of slender, taught muscles of her neck, and she tilted her head to allow him better access. He trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses down to her shoulder, then shifted to nuzzle just behind her ear. As he sucked the lobe into his mouth she couldn't suppress a gasp.
When he moved to her pulse point, nipping the tender skin lightly with his teeth, she made a low, throaty noise that might have been a moan. The sound seemed to spur him on to find other spots. He trailed his tongue along one side of her collarbone and dipped into the hollow at the center before nibbling across the other side. He fixed that talented mouth on her other ear, trailing the tip of his tongue along the sensitive shell and blowing his hot breath across the wet path.
"Rick…" she had never been one for breathy cries of pleasure during sex. Making out. Whatever this was. Why was she so completely overcome by kissing this man on her couch? It was as if he had a map—as if all that creepy staring while she was doing paperwork at her desk had somehow revealed to him every magical place on her body that would make her melt into a puddle of incoherent mush in his arms.
He hadn't said a word all this time, but when he finally pulled his lips from her skin for half a second to speak, his voice was gruff.
"Bed?"
"Definitely." Wow. She had produced four coherent, if breathy, syllables. And she just dove in to whatever their relationship was about to be.
He kissed her lips briefly, smacking noisily and smiling that 10,000-watter before he eased back slightly. She unwrapped her legs and he rose, holding out his hands to help her up from the couch. Good thing, too, since she was fairly sure her knees were going to give out as soon as she stood.
Sure enough, she pitched into his chest just a bit with a lightheaded rush, and he caught her against him. She giggled and dropped her forehead to his shoulder. She couldn't remember the last time she had giggled in the presence of a guy. Wait, when did Rick equal "guy" in her brain? Rick was "partner." Rick was "friend." They had just had a major fight trying to define what Rick was, exactly. What was it she finally decided?
Oh, well, right. She had decided he was leaving that night. Not so much leaving now. Really not leaving now. He'd better not even think about leaving. God she had been weak that night. Not admitting he was so much more than her friend, more than her words could describe. And worse than that, freaking out and kicking him out and then crying all night that he was gone.
"Did you just giggle, Detective Beckett?" He nuzzled against her neck, pulling her out of her flashback.
She hoped the lightness and the teasing came through in her voice.
"Rick, what the hell have you done to me? I'm a total mess. I can't even stand on my own feet."
"I wouldn't want to be accused of kissing you senseless and then leaving you helpless on your couch."
He sank down and hoisted her up over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, her butt in the air.
"Castle!" She was fairly sure that would qualify as a screech. Or maybe a squeal. She wasn't sure which was worse. "Put me down!" She punctuated her request by whacking him half-heartedly on his back with her fists.
He was already halfway to her bedroom.
"I will, very shortly."
"Castle, put me down now!" Unfortunately, she knew her voice had no semblance of her usual authoritative Beckett tone. Especially not when another giggle escaped as he ducked slightly to go through the bedroom door.
He walked to the side of her bed and turned to face away from it, then sat and flopped back on the mattress. She thankfully figured out what he was doing in time to avoid a full face plant, but she let out a very un-detective-like yelp as she hit the bed, and Rick laughed.
She wasted no time pouncing on him, with full intent to tickle him into submission for that little stunt. She had no idea if he was actually ticklish, but she had always just assumed he must be, and she wasn't disappointed.
"Kate! Unfair! Ack! Apples! Apples! Please!"
She paused in her assault and he took a deep breath.
"Do not. Ever. Pick me up and haul me around like a sack of potatoes again, Richard Castle."
And she tickled him again, eliciting a very girly yelp.
"Or else I will tickle you in the presence of Ryan and Esposito and let them hear you giggle like an 8-year-old girl!"
She let up enough to allow him to draw breath.
"Oh my god. I always knew you were evil." He was sucking in air, trying not to laugh. "Besides, I saw you more as a 'damsel in distress' than a 'sack of potatoes.' Ah!"
She had lit into him again with that last comment, pinning him to the mattress by straddling his hips.
"You are not doing yourself any favors here, Rick, comparing me to Cinderella and Snow White. Although I do know about your prior history with horses…"
He managed to get his hands around her wrists and wrest them away from his ribcage.
"For your information, that horse in Central Park was not white, nor was I in any condition to be saving anyone, especially myself, at the time…"
She had leaned down over him during his partial confession, and now they were nose-to-nose, her lips barely an inch from his. He lifted his head and closed the distance between them, pulling her lower lip between his teeth and suckling it slightly. A moan escaped the back of her throat, and in her moment of distraction, he reversed their positions, still gripping her wrists and pressing them to the mattress just above her head.