INSTANT CONNECTION
PRE-1X01 AU
RATED M
Rick glances around the ballroom as he enters, taking in the group of fellow attendees and looking for a familiar face. Coming to an NYPD charity fundraising event hadn't been high on his list for the weekend – he respects the NYPD but had a few too many run-ins with them in his wild early 20s – but thanks to a rare loss at poker, he's here.
He stops at the bar first, grabs a glass of scotch to sip while he mingles. Taking a moment to study the room, his pulse quickens when he spots the profile of a tall, gorgeous brunette talking to a couple of men, all three about the same age. His first assumption is that she's talking to her partners, but there's no way a woman that hot is a cop. Her looks are too striking; she'd stand out too much.
She isn't facing his direction, so he uses the opportunity to study her, to trail his gaze down her body.
The floor-length, strapless, black dress is tight enough to show off her svelte figure, the low neckline providing a tantalizing look at her cleavage.
His mouth waters as he imagines trailing his mouth along her skin, his tongue tasting, driving her wild. Or her long legs wrapped around his waist or bent to her chest, his hands gripping her hips.
He has to turn and face the bar when he feels his groin respond to the thought, finishes his drink and asks for another while he wills his growing erection to go the other direction so he doesn't embarrass himself.
When he can finally face the public and turns back around, his eyes land on the beauty again. Judging by the quick lift of her eyes and the deep flush that appears on her cheeks, she was staring at his ass.
He smirks. Maybe his interest isn't one-sided, after all.
She says something to her friends, and the next thing he knows, she's walking towards him, confidence radiating from her long strides. He puts his drink on the bar behind him, but she reaches behind him, picks up the glass, and drains it in one large gulp.
It's the sexiest thing he's ever seen.
She hums and motions for two more, then leans against the bar and faces him. "Good choice. Expensive," she adds, her gaze traveling slowly down his body, the heat in her eyes making his pants tighten again.
Shit, he needs to get out of here, or at least escape somewhere private so he can take the edge off.
"Come here often?" she asks, her long, slender fingers wrapped around her glass.
He forces his gaze back up to her eyes and tries to think about literally anything other than those fingers wrapped around his dick. He downs his drink and clears his throat. "First time," he admits. "I donate to the charity every year, but this is the first one I've attended."
She hums and nods, but he gets the impression that she's barely listening. "Well, you might be interested to know that there's an afterparty." She leans forward, her eyes locked on his as she crowds him and sets her glass on the bar. "You should come. Or," she continues, finding his hand, tangling his fingers in hers, "we can leave this party for our own. I have a room next door," she suggests.
He nods, and she leads him down a long hallway, past the bathrooms, and out a back door that opens into an alley. As soon as the door shuts behind them, he pins her against the wall and crashes his mouth to hers, slips his tongue between her lips when she moans.
Her fingers grip the lapels of his jacket as their tongues meet, fierce, desperate strokes that have them grinding against each other like they're trying to get off before they get caught.
She buries her fingers in his hair, guiding him as he trails his mouth down her neck, tasting her. His fingers dig into her ass, and she gasps and hooks her ankle around his calf when he bucks his hips.
He wants nothing more than to feel her skin on his, so he claws at her dress, dragging the fabric up those long, long legs, sighing in relief when he finally gets the loose fabric to her thighs and slides his hand between them.
He groans when his fingers find her underwear damp with arousal, and he rubs his knuckle up her center, presses against her clit.
She gasps, her back arching, fingers tugging his hair.
He hooks his finger under her panties, slicks through her wetness. He withdraws his hand when she starts to roll her hips, and he kisses a trail back up her neck, nudges her nose with his.
"Room?" he rasps, barely recognizing his own voices, pushing her skirt back down.
She takes his hand, her eyes darkening, and she nods and leads him out of the alley.
Thank goodness she has a room already, he decides as he follows her through the hotel lobby and straight to the elevator. He's hard as a rock, and if he'd needed to take the time to check in, he might have burst in his pants.
When she pins him to the elevator wall and starts to undo his pants, he almost comes anyway.
It's a blessedly short trip to the fourth floor, so he extracts himself from the intoxicating taste of her mouth and lets her drag him towards her room.
As soon as the door clicks shut behind him and she flips the deadbolt, all bets are off.
She grabs his face in her hands, brings his mouth to hers as she buries her fingers in his hair, presses her body against his. Her tongue ravages him, her teeth tugging his bottom lip as she pulls away for a quick breath, her hands moving down to grip his coat lapels.
His hands move to her back, quickly finding her zipper, and he drags it down, yanks the strapless dress down her torso. He cups her face with his hands and crashes his mouth to hers again, slicking his tongue against hers as he turns them and pins her to the door.
She arches into him when he slides his hands down her chest, and he chuckles in her mouth as he pinches her nipples and she groans. He drops to his knees, bringing the dress to the floor as he does, and he helps her step out of it and trails his palms up her thighs.
She tilts her hips towards him when he hooks his thumbs in her underwear, and he smirks and leans forward, presses his tongue to the lace, against her clit. Her hips buck at the touch, and he drags her underwear down her legs and slicks his tongue through her folds.
"Shit," she gasps, her fingers gripping his hair, hips rolling against his face as he explores her center with long, slow, thorough strokes of his tongue.
He drapes one leg over her shoulder and cups her thigh, holding her to him, and slides his fingers up her leg to tease her entrance. He dips one finger in, and her grip tightens in his hair as she gasps.
He grins when he feels her start to flutter around him, so he adds a second finger and speeds the movement of his hand, licks his way up to her clit, and flicks it with his tongue. He takes her clit into his mouth and hums, and she cries out, her hips bucking into him, walls spasming around his fingers, her release coating his hand.
She collapses against the door with a sigh, pushing his head away, and he lowers her foot back to the floor and stands.
He cups her hips with his hands and lowers his mouth to her chest, taking one peaked nipple between his teeth, then the other.
"Fuck," she snaps, pushing him away and frantically tugging his shirt from his pants. "Bed. Now."
He strips off his clothes and rolls on a condom as he follows her into the room, pauses when she leans over to shove the comforter aside. His mouth waters, dying to taste her again, the sheen of the wetness between her legs beckoning him.
She tenses when he grips her hips and tugs her back into him, his erection nestled against her ass. He slides one hand to her front and drags a finger between her legs, circling her clit a few times until she sags into him.
"How do you want it?" he asks in a low, rough voice, his mouth at her ear. She shivers, and he swears his cock gets even harder.
God, at this rate, he'll be lucky to last two seconds inside her.
"Knees? Back?" he continues, still stroking her, dusting his mouth down her neck, across her shoulders and back, to the other side of her neck.
Her hips roll against his hand, and she reaches back, cups the back of his head.
He growls when he feels her start to shudder, new arousal aiding the work of his fingers. When he hears the short whimpers and gasps that preceded her climax before, he slows his hand, not wanting her to come again, not yet.
He wants to watch this time.
Without waiting for her to answer, he turns her around and nudges her shoulders, a silent request for her to sit. Her gaze drops to his cock, and he groans when he sees her tongue dart out and drag across her bottom lip.
Ah, fuck.
"On your back," he husks, gripping his cock, his fingers curled around the base. When she lies back, a smirk tugging at those sexy, swollen lips, he pushes the insides of her knees, steps between them, and guides his cock to her waiting entrance.
Their moans fill the otherwise silent room as he enters her. He doesn't stop, doesn't pause, just withdraws and slams into her again, his hands gripping her waist, holding her as he moves inside her.
Her gasps are music to his ears, and he feels his climax quickly approaching, the familiar heat rushing through his limbs, the swelling of his cock. Her fingers curl into the sheet under her and she hooks her ankles at the small of his back, and she arches, cries out as she starts to come again.
She almost pulls him over the edge with her, but he manages to hold off, slows just enough to adjust their position. He grabs her behind her knees, bends them to her chest as he leans forward and resumes his thrusting with renewed vigor.
Her eyes fly open at the new angle, but before long they shut again, her head falling back to the bed, a deep flush spreading across her cheeks and chest as she continues to spasm around him.
He can't stop himself this time, can't hold back the orgasm that overtakes him. He groans as he buries himself as deep as he can, his hips jerking, drawing out his release as he comes. He drops his head to her neck, panting as he tries to catch his breath. She rubs his arms, her nails gently scraping, and after a minute, he pushes himself off her and ducks into the bathroom to take care of the condom.
She's pulling on her underwear when he emerges, and despite the disappointment settling in his chest, he grabs his clothes from the floor, where he'd unceremoniously dropped them in his mission to be naked.
He expects her to put her dress back on and go back to the event, so when she pulls a shirt from the duffle bag in the corner, he pauses. "You're not going back?"
She tugs the t-shirt over her head and gives him a look he can't quite decipher. "Nah. I didn't really want to be there anyway."
"Oh." He hesitates after buttoning his shirt. "Maybe-"
"It was fun," she interrupts.
He nods, recognizing the implied conclusion to their evening. "Yeah, it was." He quickly buttons his pants and slips his feet into his shoes. He pauses at the door and glances back at her, perched on the end of the bed, watching him. "I didn't catch your name."
The corner of her mouth quirks. "I didn't throw it," she teases, leaning back on her hands.
He can't stop his eyes from trailing down her long, long legs, but he forces his gaze back up to her face. "Right. Well, take care."
"You too."
As soon as Kate recognizes the crime scene, her stomach drops to the floor.
She hadn't clued Rick Castle into the fact that she knew his identity last night. She also hadn't seduced him because he was her favorite author, but because he looked hot, he was obviously checking her out, and she wanted to get laid. She also assumed that she wouldn't see him again.
Apparently, she was wrong.
She doesn't say anything about it, just has the boys find out where he is. So, when they step onto the midtown rooftop bar and spot him across the room, Espo's elbow digs into her side.
"Isn't that-"
"Shut up," she snaps, shooting him a glare.
He smirks and takes a step back. "Alright. Well, since you two are already acquainted, I'll let you take the lead."
She narrows her eyes at him, but she does so anyway, takes her badge from her belt as she approaches his broad back.
Her fingers clench; she remembers clearly what that back felt like under her hands. She wouldn't mind feeling it again.
She clears her throat, tries to ignore the heat furling through her as his familiar cologne fills her senses. "Mr. Castle?"
He turns, uncapped Sharpie in his hand. "Where would you li-"
She sees the recognition dawn in his eyes, and she lifts her badge. "Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD," she announces, pushing aside the temptation to acknowledge their previous encounter. "We need to ask you a few questions about a murder that took place uptown."
"Kate," he echoes. "Detective. Wow." Rick shakes his head and hands his pen to the teenager behind him. "Alexis, will you go find Gina – never mind, here she comes."
Kate tucks her hands in her pockets as she approaches a surprisingly helpful Castle. The case is solved, the killer is being driven to jail at that very moment, and the curiosity that's been rolling off Rick in waves can no longer be ignored.
"Detective Kate Beckett," Rick teases, an annoyingly attractive smirk tugging at his lips.
She glances at him. "Yes, that's my name, don't wear it out."
His eyes darken and flick to her mouth. "Oh, but I'd like to," he says in a low husk that sends heat right between her legs.
Suddenly, she wants to hear what her name sounds like when he's in the throes of pleasure, mixed in with the grunts and moans that were so fucking sexy a few nights ago.
"Wanna grab a drink?" Rick asks, interrupting her increasingly dirty train of thought. "We could debrief each other," he adds with a wink.
She draws her bottom lip between her teeth, considering. Her head says no, that she has to write up her report and should probably get a good night's sleep. Especially considering how little sleep she's gotten thanks to her mentally reliving the other night over and over again.
Unfortunately, her mouth - and another very loud body part - disagrees.
"Sure."
Rick's brows lift in surprise. He must have been anticipating a different answer. He quickly composes himself and holds out his arm in invitation. "Great. Shall we?"
She looks at his extended arm for a long moment, then lifts her gaze back to his. "In a few hours? I need to wrap up the case."
"Right. Sure. Let me know when you're ready." He leans forward, his mouth at her ear. "I'll bring the condoms."
She shivers as she watches him walk away. Well, at least they're on the same page about how they want the night to end.
"Nice place."
Kate glances behind her as she shuts and locks her door. "Thanks." Her cheeks warm when Rick looks at the box in front of her bookshelf. She knows exactly the moment when he recognizes his own books, which she hasn't put away yet after taking them to the precinct for the case.
He turns to her, a knowing smirk on his stupidly attractive face. "Knew you were a fan," he jokes, leaning down to pick up the copy of Storm Fall that he'd gifted her. "I expect this to be displayed prominently."
She rolls her eyes. "You'll never know."
He chuckles and sets the book down, then moves towards her, his gaze turning serious. "Look, Kate, I know what I said earlier, about condoms. But I don't want to pressure you. If you don't want to-"
"Oh, I do," she interrupts. She takes a step forward and reaches out to grip the front of his sweater. "I definitely want to."
His eyes darken and flick to her mouth. "In that case, bedroom," he says in a low voice. When she hesitates, he narrows his eyes. "Now."
Heat floods between her thighs at his near-growl, and she just nods, helpless to do anything else.
The tension between them was palpable as soon as they met at a bar near her house, and they'd only managed one drink before the undercurrent of desire was too much. He threw a few bills on the table, and they left very quickly.
They move slower now, more deliberately, as they step into her bedroom and she turns to face him again.
His hands lift to frame her face, and she gazes up at him through her lashes, draws her bottom lip between her teeth.
A low growl is the only warning she has before he crashes his mouth to hers, his strong hands tilting her head, his tongue slipping between her lips to meet hers. He slides his hands down to the hem of her shirt, and she lifts her arms, pulls away just long enough for him to tug it off. She takes the opportunity to rid him of his shirt, and she trails her palms across his torso, appreciating the shiver she feels when she follows the trail of hair below his navel and slips her fingers beneath his waistband.
He curls his fingers around her wrist and moves her hand before she touches him, and she raises her brows when he takes a pile of condoms from his pocket and throws them on the bed.
"Just how many did you bring?"
He shrugs. "Didn't count. I grabbed a couple, but then thought, what if that isn't enough, but if I brought a lot, would it be presumptuous?" He hooks his fingers in her belt and walks them towards the bed. "So I said fuck it, and just grabbed a handful."
"Castle?"
"Hmm?"
She grips his biceps and presses her body flush against his. "Shut up."
His eyes darken, and he smirks. "Gladly."
He tries to take his time, to tease her, taste her, touch her. He wants to make it last, have more than the fast, frantic fuck he'd enjoyed so much.
But as soon as her pants and underwear fall to the floor, leaving her bare in front of him, his cock takes over.
He reaches for her, one hand grabbing her waist, the other curling around the back of her neck. Her mouth opens with a gasp when he tugs her to him, and he crashes his mouth to hers, feels her moan reverberate in his chest when she wraps her arms around his neck and presses her body to his.
Being around her for the last three days has been torture, unable to touch or kiss her, or do any of the unspeakable things that he's been fantasizing about.
Her fingers grip his hair as he guides her down to the bed, and he groans when she tugs, breaking their mouths apart and gasping for breath. He doesn't miss a beat, trailing his mouth down her neck, nipping and sucking her collarbone, smiling when he lifts his head and sees the mark he left.
"Gonna have to hide that," he teases, glancing at her flushed face.
Her lips lift in a slow smile, and he swears he gets even harder.
She likes that. Fuck.
He wants her so bad, it's almost painful. He doesn't think he's ever been this hard, this desperate.
It takes everything in him not to just slam into her and fuck her until he collapses. No, he's determined to make her come at least once before he does that.
He is a gentleman, after all.
He renews his journey down her body, kissing and nipping her skin, teasing one breast with his lips and tongue while taking the other in his hand. She gasps when he pinches her nipple, and he smiles against her breast, and bites.
"Castle…shit!" Her hips buck, hitting his stomach, and she arches, the grip on his head holding him to her as he swirls his tongue around her nipple.
He chuckles, and he kisses across her chest to switch breasts, gives it the same attention with his teeth and tongue. Before long, she's writhing under him, one leg hooked around his waist. He slides his hand down to her leg and he curls his fingers under her thigh.
His fingertips encounter her arousal, and he shifts, slips his hand between her legs.
She's soaked.
He needs to taste her again.
He releases her breast, but her protest dies as soon as his tongue is on her clit. He takes it into his mouth and sucks, releasing it when he recognizes her short gasps and firm grip on his head. He licks through her folds, teasing her entrance with his tongue before sliding two fingers inside.
He works her with his mouth as he thrusts his fingers, and before long, he feels the familiar fluttering that signals her impending orgasm. He focuses his attention on her clit, lapping it with his tongue, moaning when she cries out.
Her thighs tighten around his head, and just a moment later she bursts, pulsing around his fingers, her release coating his hand. Even as her hips slow he doesn't let up, adding a third finger, and soon she's gasping again, another orgasm overtaking her.
She eventually pushes his head away, and he smiles against her skin as he kisses the inside of her thigh, moaning at her taste.
He just can't get enough of this woman.
He peppers kisses along her skin as he moves back up, pausing for another exploration of her chest that has her arching and moaning.
He could spend hours exploring her body, but his cock doesn't agree. He realizes that he's grinding his hips into the mattress, and he begrudgingly lets go of her breast and reaches for a condom.
He groans when he slides easily into her, and he has to pause and collect himself, bring himself back from the edge. She's so wet, so smooth, and he drops his forehead to her neck, takes a few deep breaths.
Kate's hands slide down his back, and she lifts her hips, digs his fingers into his ass in encouragement.
"Fuck, you're-" His hips jerk, and he groans, loud and low, feels her shiver beneath him. He chuckles when she clenches around his cock. "Jesus, Beckett, I'm hanging by a thread."
Her chin bumps against the top of his head, and he looks up, presses his mouth to hers. Their tongues tangle as he pumps his hips, slowly withdrawing, then sliding back in, feeling every inch of her as he quickens his thrusts.
Soon they're both panting, mouths locked together, their breath mingling as he pistons his hips. She hooks her legs around his back, arching into him, her own hips rocking. She clutches his shoulders and drops her head back to the bed, a deep flush spreading across her chest as she comes.
His mouth finds her breast again, his lips covering her nipple, tugging as she falls apart under him. His cock swells inside of her, and he tears his mouth from her breast, groans into her shoulder, and follows her over the edge.
He expects a repeat of the other night - a polite yet clear ending to their time - so when he returns from the bathroom, he starts to gather his clothes.
"Are you leaving?"
He looks over and finds Kate emerging from the bathroom, wiping her hands on a towel. He shrugs. "I assumed you'd want me to."
"Oh." She moves towards him, and all he can do is stand there as she draws her bottom lip between her teeth and hooks a finger in the waistband of his boxers. "Do you have to go?" she asks quietly, glancing up at him.
He shakes his head, unable to take his eyes off her.
The corner of her mouth quirks. "Good. Maybe…" Her cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink. "Maybe we can do it again," she suggests.
His cock twitches. "I need a little time, and maybe some water," he adds with a smirk, "but I am absolutely on board with that."
"Good," she says in a near whisper.
"Good," he echoes. He leans forward, wanting - needing - to kiss her when there's a low growl from between them. He presses his hand on his stomach, his cheeks going hot. "Maybe some food, too, since we skipped dinner."
She giggles - holy shit he likes that - and lets go of his boxers. "Yes, we did. Do you want anything in particular?"
His eyes follow her as she grabs a t-shirt from her dresser and pulls it over her head, then picks up her phone. He doesn't really care what kind of food they get; what he wants is in front of him.
His fingers twitch.
And something about Kate Beckett is giving him the urge to write, a feeling he hasn't had in months. He doesn't have any words, not yet, and besides, he wants to stay here as long as she'll let him.
He wants to get to know her, to find out her favorite foods, what makes her tick, her hobbies. He wants to learn anything she's willing to share.
He wants everything.
-FIN-