A/N: I'm so, so sorry for the terribly long wait. I'm not going to say it won't happen again, because I'd be making promises I couldn't possibly keep. But I really am sorry because I know how much it sucks to wait for updates, and I know not even half of you will even remember this story.
At least it's a short story so far, so you can re-read if you get lost ;)

I hope you all had a fantastically awesome weekend. And week. And month. (Because seriously, it's been that long.)
I appreciate each and every one of you dear readers. You rock my world.
Lina

His smooth skin was warm against hers, stomach to stomach and chest to chest as he licked a slow teasing line down her throat, his hips cradled between her parted thighs. She was still wearing her jeans, the fabric rough and frustratingly frictional as she writhed and wriggled underneath his weight.

If she could just shift a little to the right; if he'd just let her move a tiny bit upwards…right there, where the seam of her pants…yes, right there-
-but he pushed her back down, keeping her in place with his broad body.

"Rick" she whispered, the heavy atmosphere of the bedroom somehow calling for a quiet tone.
He hummed against her throat, the vibrations tickling and rousing her. His fingers skidded around her waist, bare skin erupting in goose bumps and toned muscles shivering under his touch even as she tried to suppress her reactions to him. His tongue dipped into the hollow by her collarbone and she sighed, a high keening sound of need.

Unfair. Just unfair, that man.

She'd already forgotten again what she was going to say.

The world slowed around them and yet seemed to pick up speed with every connection they made. Skin on skin, flesh on exposed flesh, lips seeking sweet lips and tongues plunging into wet depths. It was ecstatic. And for lack of a better word, Rick thought, simply extraordinary.

Their bedroom. He still couldn't believe that this was going to be their bedroom now. It would belong to both of them, equal parts. The part of the bed getting more light from the window would be her side, and the other would be his. They would go to sleep in this bed every night, together, from now until… until they moved out. To a nursing home. Or a villa in the south of France. Or –

His thoughts cut off when Kate slid her small, slim hand into the back of his boxers and cupped his ass. His mouth went slack against her collarbone as his hips pressed into hers on intuition.

Damn, that woman.

He groaned and pushed himself up on his forearms to look at her, pressing his hips more firmly against her. She moaned; this had clearly been her plan all along.

Her heavy-lidded gaze travelled up his naked chest, his round neck, got stuck at his lips for a brief, wonderful second before she finished her trail and their eyes met. Her hair was spread out on his covers, their covers, and the evening light cast enchanting frames and forms and lines of twirling sun across her perfect skin.

She grinned, and then slid her hand around to his front.

He gasped; her name both an expletive and a caress as it fell from his lips. She could see the muscles tense where he was holding himself above her, at the same time pressing her into the mattress as he was trying to hold back the thrusting of his hips into her hand. He wanted her. Badly.

She brushed her thumb ever so lightly across his tip, her darkened eyes flirting relentlessly with his until he gave in and let his lashes flutter shut. She arched her back and pressed her breasts into his chest, keeping her grip frustratingly soft around him.

"Kate" he pleaded and opened his eyes again with no small effort.
"You" he croaked, wet his lips, tried again. "S'about you."

Clenching his jaw, he regretfully pushed himself further up, away from her touch, her smell, her enticing sexiness that lured him in. He rocked back onto his knees and dragged the flat of his palms down her stomach to her pants.

She laughed breathlessly when he couldn't quite open her button on the first try. He was usually so… hmmmm… incredibly dexterous, that it amused her whenever she could get him so unfocussed that he lost all his charming self-control.

When he finally managed the task, he peeled the dark fabric down her legs, scooting down the bed to completely rid her of it. With swift but trembling motions, her blue panties followed right after, so she was only left in her mismatched beige bra.

She'd forgotten to care about things like that a long, long time ago. In fact, when she knew they were going to get it on that night, she usually chose ordinary underwear, as he had a tendency to rip them.

In the dim light of the bedroom, Rick was hovering above her, her warm breath mingling with his.
He shifted his weight to one arm and cradled her left wrist in his hand. She gasped when he looked straight into her eyes and tasted the saltiness of her skin between her thumb and her pointer finger, the way he had imagined Rook doing it in 'Heat Wave' during the tequila scene.

Kate reached up and cupped Rick's cheek, brushing her thumb along the velvet skin just under his eye. He turned his head and pressed a tender kiss to her warm palm, licking a tantalizing line on her salty skin, scraping his teeth across the flesh of her thumb.

"That box" he murmured and leaned back just far enough to look at her face. A blush travelled up her entire body, but this time her embarrassment was mixed with a healthy dose of arousal, too.

"Yes" she answered with a dry throat, her voice low, dark, illegal. Then she pushed on his chest, forced him up and away from her, the passion in her eyes a rough contrast to the sweet tenderness before. She swung her legs around and dropped from the bed, unhooking her bra with one hand and flinging it away without looking, crossing the room in powerful, naked strides.

She picked up the box – a show just for him, giving him a clear view of everything – and turned around. Rick had to gulp. His heart stuttered frantically as she advanced on him like a huntress, all lust and force and evil teasing eyes.

"Take it off" she ordered, gesturing with the box towards his boxers, and he hurried to fulfill her wish.

All her wishes, always.

"Scoot up" she demanded and he pushed himself up the bed until he was lying flat on his back, with his head on the pillows. He was following her command wordlessly, relinquishing the control because he knew it was what she needed right now; he knew that if he wanted to use any of the toys on her, he'd have to allow her the same first.

With dark eyes trained on him, she knocked the lid off the box and reached blindly inside. The corners of her lips twitched as her hand closed around the items she'd been looking for.

Pulling them out with a face as strict as she could manage, she growled at him.

"You've been a bad, bad boy, Richard Castle."