They drive home with his hand inching up her thigh, getting bolder by the minute as they get closer to the loft, even as she swats him away several times and tries to focus on steering the car.
They both know they need to talk, really talk about this, but now is not the time. They don't even know yet whether Serena would be willing to go along with what they have in mind, so there's no need to hurry.
(She made it pretty obvious that she has a thing for Castle, and more likely than not she's attracted to Beckett as well, but both? Together?)
Nothing's set in stone. They can talk later – make love now.
Because that's what it always is between them; making love. Even when his fingers dig roughly into her backside and his teeth drag against her neck, even when she's scratching his shoulder and slamming him into the nearest wall – it's always because they love each other.
Whether it's slow and unbearably tender (like it was last weekend when he'd lit candles across the room for her and taken three hours to worship her body) or fast and heady and almost painful (like it will be tonight; she can tell from the way he's biting the inside of his cheek and pressing his fists into his sides as they ride the elevator up from the garage to their floor) or somewhere in between, passionate and caring and demanding and fulfilling – it's always making love.
"So" he starts as he slides the key into the lock of their front door. She arches her eyebrow, wondering what's coming next. Her entire body is already humming with desire, the tension tight inside her belly. She expected him to ravish her right as they crossed the threshold into their home, but apparently there's something on his mind.
"…nude model, huh?" he asks with a leer and she can't help but roll her eyes. Of course he remembers that particular detail from this morning's conversation.
(Of course she said it on purpose, taking every chance she could to tease him.)
She walks past him into the loft, then turns around to face him, crowding close, making his body brush against hers as he reaches behind his back to close the door.
"What about it?" she questions, pretending she doesn't know what's the big deal about it. Maybe he just needs a push…
"Any chance..." He stutters as she flattens her palm against his broad chest; pushing. He clears his throat, starts again.
"Any chance I can ge-" She slides her fingers lower, teasing his abdomen, clenching under her touch, "-get the..ah..the pictuuures?" he draws out the word because her nimble hand is brushing ever lower, confidently cupping him through his pants as her eyes narrow and his widen. His pronunciation is triggering a flashback inside her head, a déjà vu of that moment in the interrogation room during their first case, their first day together all those years ago.
(He sometimes likes to think of it as their first date, too.)
"How about the real live thing instead?" she suggests, her voice husky and low against his lips as she leans in closer. He blinks dumbly, struck speechless for a second because her breath feathers against his mouth, wet and hot and inviting, and her hips are pressed completely into his and her hand is stuck between their bodies, her thumb brushing up and down the bulge at his groin. Before he gets the chance to gather his wits, her tongue is pushing into his mouth and her free hand tugs and claws at the short hair at the back of his head.
He moans, she moans, and they're pressed up against the door the next second, his hands franticly tearing at her shirt, ripping down her pants. He grinds himself against her hand, and as soon as her jeans are below her hips he is pressing his own palm against the front of her wet panties. It's rough and fast and when his short nail pinches just to the side of her clit, she cries out. It's good, so good, and Kate somehow manages to open his buttons with only one hand and then she is biting down hard on his lower lip and his pulsing erection springs into her hand through the opening at the front of his boxers.
She squeezes, circles his head and his knees buckle. He rips himself away from her mouth, tries to hook his fingers under her panties but can't quite manage, his movements frantic and clumsy.
"Kate" he pants against her neck and falls heavily against the door when her hand picks up tempo. "Not here, bed" he warns, but she shakes her head.
"Now" she demands and lets go of his length to divest herself of her underwear, almost stumbling to the floor as her foot catches in her pants. He wraps his arm around her waist just in time to keep her from falling, and as she rights herself he takes the opportunity to finally pull her shirt over her head. He doesn't have the patience to deal with her bra clasp, so he just pushes the straps over her shoulders and forces the garment down; it gets stuck on her hips; but at least her breasts are finally free. He palms them roughly, then bends down to take a puckered nipple into his hot mouth as she rips so hard on his satin boxers that he can hear the fabric tear.
He doesn't care, she doesn't either, and then he's swiveling them around, pressing her up against the door, mindful of the handle as he yanks up her leg to wrap around his ass. She hangs on to his neck and pushes herself up against him; her burning wet middle finally contacts his erection and he moans while trying to grab her other leg.
Then they're wrapped around each other, up against the front door, her back arching and her sweaty breasts pushing into his still half-clad chest. His pants are around one of his ankles, but he's free enough – for this, anyway.
She cups his ass, hisses his name like a threat, impatient and wired and so damn hot where she slides against him. Her thigh is wet against his; she's dripping with arousal.
He hungrily finds her mouth and cants his hips to align them perfectly. His tongue breaks the seal of her lips and then he is pushing into her, up there and down there and everywhere and she has to throw her head back and gasp for air, seeing blind spots already.
He thrusts into her without mercy, fast and hard and rough, her back thumping against the door, his toes curled against the floor, still inside his shoes, because they haven't had time to take them off.
Hers got lost when she pulled off her pants, so the heels of her feet are bare as she presses them into his ass and thighs. She's leaving crescent moon marks on his lower back and gripping his neck so hard that his skin is burning, but it's a pleasant burn, a testament to her passion, proof of this incredible tension between them. Her blood is rushing so loudly inside her head that she doesn't hear anything else; he only hears her pants, the gushes of air that blow straight into his ear because she's curled around him, help up by him.
Only his legs can't quite support the both of them any longer; his thrusts are so powerful that she doesn't get a chance to help him lift herself off him and carry some of her weight.
"Kate" he groans but gets shut up by a sloppy kiss from her, deep and reckless, teeth against teeth, tongue against tongue.
"So close" she whimpers, and when she's sounding like this he can never deny her anything so he slides his hand from her thigh to her clenched stomach, then down to her clit, rubbing hard.
She cries out, loud, bucking against him as her muscles spasm around him and the orgasm rolls through her from her tingling toes to her buzzing head.
Her arm goes slack around his neck and her body is suddenly boneless, a lazy and heavy weight that is pulling them both down to the ground. He gives in and tries to lower them down as carefully as he can, still inside her, throbbing with the need to release, but holding out with iron control; holding out because he knows there is another orgasm just around the corner for her.
They're a pile of tangled limbs and ruffled clothes and sweaty, sticky skin on the floor by their front door, underneath the coat rack.
Wow.
He tries to keep very still because he knows she's so sensitive right now that every movement will overload her nervous system, but it's difficult because his breathing is so frantic and his chest is heaving and brushing against hers and he's still inside her and her muscles are rippling around him with aftershocks and her lips are wet and hot against his neck.
She startles him with a happy giggle – a giggle! – and then her mouth finds his and she's kissing him, sloppy and smiling and so dirty, her tongue, god, she's drinking him up and shifting against him and he's choking, no brain left in his blood or the other way around, no blood in his brain, nothing but incoherent babbles as she straddles him and pushes him, nudges them around until his back is resting against the door and she can lean back, perched atop his thighs, like a wild goddess above him. She lifts off him, so slow, teasing, her tongue back in his mouth, and on an exhale she sinks down, then circles her hips, lifts up, down, up, down, riding him, faster and faster and he loves her, loves her, loves her.
Then everything goes black.
"At first I wasn't even sure you like her" he says a while later, brushing his hand gently up and down her bare back, her cheek pressed into his chest as they lie tangled together in their big comfortable bed.
"Hm" she grunts and he pulls back a little to look at her face.
"Hey, are you okay? With…with Serena? We don't have to do this if you're not…are you sure you won't get jealous?"
He's watching her carefully, but her face is relaxed, her eyes closed, her body sated and limp against his.
"I already am" she responds dryly, her lips moving against his skin.
"Of me or of her?" he asks with a cheeky grin. She laughs, opens her eyes slowly, batting her lashes a couple of times to clear her vision. Then she leans up and flicks her tongue out to touch his shoulder.
"Both."
She smoothes her hand down his chest, sighing.
(She started this whole honesty thing; now she has to live with the consequences.)
"You were flirting with her today and I…I just wanted to stalk over there and claim you, touch you, kiss you, show her that you're mine."
He shivers and his arm tightens around her; if it's because of her hushed words or because her mouth is gliding down his sternum, she doesn't know.
"But you wanted her as well" he rasps out.
"Yes" she admits, biting his collarbone, making him gasp.
"You know I don't…you know you're the only one I love, right?"
She smiles against his skin.
"I do."
(She doesn't doubt it for a second.)
"Really?" his mother asks the next morning, leaning against the kitchen table. "An insurance investigator?"
"A sexy insurance investigator" Rick clarifies, the words out of his mouth before he can stop them. It's the lack of sleep that's making him lose his filter – his mother really doesn't need to know about that part.
"I think she'd make a great character for my next book" he adds, trying to justify his insistence on that particular adjective with a more …objective reason.
He can't fool his mother.
"Well, you seem rather taken with her" she casually suggests as she pours milk into her cup of coffee.
"I find her..." he struggles for the right word; doesn't want to give too much away about his (and Kate's) intentions. "…interesting."
Martha lifts her expressive eyebrows, leans closer.
"What's she like?"
He opens his mouth to answer, but Kate beats him to it, slipping into the room dressed in work slacks and a purple blouse, her make-up perfect but her hair still drying.
"She's an uncooperative, cocky, stubborn know-it-all. She's just perfect as Nikki's new nemesis."
Her words are harsh, but there's a glint of humor in her eyes and a sarcastic nuance to her voice that even the oftentimes oblivious Broadway lady catches with ease.
"Good morning, Martha" Kate says and smiles genuinely, grabbing a piece of fruit from the bowl on the table.
"Good morning to you, too, my dear" Martha greets enthusiastically and pushes away from the stool to give the detective a warm and all-encompassing hug. Kate stops her hand's motion, her arm trapped beneath Martha's even as she tries to reciprocate the embrace as good as she can. (She's almost glad the fruit hasn't made it into her mouth yet, because she would surely choke on it now.)
"You don't seem to be too happy about the new addition to your team" his mother unnecessarily observes. "Is she at least good at her job?"
Kate rolls her eyes and shoves the grape between her teeth. "Well, Castle seems to think so…"
"Hey now, her theories were all correct so far!" Rick protests from behind the stove, gesturing with his spoon. "No need to be mean."
He sounds like a pouting child and he knows it; Kate glares at him and his mother just shakes her head with a sigh.
"What?" he asks, playing innocent, looking at her with big puppy dog eyes. He's holding her breakfast plate hostage on his side of the counter; she wants to grab it from him but he pulls back, his lower lip pushed forward in a big pout that almost makes her laugh. Instead she just huffs in annoyance.
(She may love him, may share his bed, but it doesn't mean she never gets annoyed by him anymore.)
"Just hand over the breakfast, Rick."
They take her Crown Vic to work and he keeps sneaking glances at her, opening his mouth as if to speak, but closing it every time. She sees it, of course. (Or maybe just senses it, but either way…)
"What is it?" she rumbles when she has to brake at an intersection. He doesn't even try to pretend that he doesn't know what she's talking about.
"Just-" his hands rise then drop again. He starts the sentence once more. "How are we…? I mean, how-"
He stops once more. He doesn't need to finish; she knows what he's worried about.
"The great writer is suddenly tongue-tied?" she teases, risks a short look at him. To be honest, she doesn't really know how they're going to approach this, either. They can't very well just walk up to Serena and ask her out on a sex-date. She shifts her gaze back to the street, crosses the intersection, shaking her head to clear it. "We'll find a way, I'm sure" she says calmly.
"We've gotta solve this case first, anyway."
A/N: I apologize profoundly for the long wait. I know it's been forever since I've updated this story, but I hope you haven't forgotten about it yet. Updates will be faster now; I think I've got my mojo back. :)
Thank you all for your very interesting and constructive and critical and questioning reviews and comments; I'll reply to each and every one of them. Please keep them coming; I am aware that this is a highly controversial story and I love hearing all your opinions.
Have a great Castle Monday!
Lina