His kiss is soft, gentle and exploratory, but she doesn't want that, doesn't want tender, doesn't want delicate grazes of his mouth or sweet strokes of his tongue. She wants fast and fiery, she wants blissful and mindless, she wants to pick up where they had left off before Lanie had interrupted them yesterday.

She can't handle anything else.

Beckett unfurls her legs from their curled position on the sofa and drags Castle in closer by her grip on his ears, sliding her fingers into his hair as his body presses in against hers, nestling between her parted legs and balancing against the arm of the couch. Perfect.

He groans when she arches, trapping her bottom lip between his teeth while her hips rock into the embrace of his.

"Kate," he breathes, his lips whispering along the hollow of her cheek and she closes her eyes, tangles her fingers in his hair and attempts to silence him with the grind of her lower body.

She just wants him to stop talking.

"Thought you wanted to celebrate, Castle?" she murmurs, smirking at the choked sound he releases into her skin, gasping when his hips finally retaliate, jerk forward and pin her to the cushion below.

Familiar sparks sizzle behind her eyes as his mouth travels down to her neck, relearning the sensitive spot behind her ear that has her biting down on her bottom lip, the patch of skin just below her jaw that never fails to evoke a gasp, the rise of her chest into his. But his hands are stroking along her sides, teasing and unsatisfying, and Kate pitches her hips with impatience.

"Castle, come on," she urges, unable to understand why he isn't peeling her shirt off, attending to the flesh that burns beneath, being the talented playboy he so often claims to be.

But when Kate opens her eyes, she finds him staring down at her with eyes that are too blue, too desperate for something that entails more than sex, and it sparks a shiver of fear down her spine that dampens the slick burn of her arousal.

It's too much, too much – she can't – this isn't what she'd brought him here for-

"Take me to your bed," he husks, and oh, that certainly ignites the fire in her veins.

But if she lets him into her bed… allowing him that kind of control, entrance into her personal space, was so much more complicated than making out in a closet or fucking on her sofa. It took things to a more intimate level that she doesn't want, isn't prepared for, not with him, not after what he did.

But then he slants his mouth over hers again, slips his tongue past her lips and glides one of his hands beneath the hem of her shirt, splays his palm over the small of her back, and she grants him acquiescence without even thinking.

She just wants to stop thinking.

Castle coaxes her body up from the sofa before she can revoke the breathless 'yes' that had escaped while his hands had caressed her skin and his tongue had tended to the roof of her mouth, guides her to her feet and distracts her from the decision with the cup of his palms to her cheeks, lips still working over hers as he walks them backwards in the direction he assumes her bedroom lies.

Her fingers are tripping down the front of his shirt, yanking it from the waistband of his pants and ripping through buttons, sneaking beneath the fabric to paint trails of heat along his skin with her fingertips, and her lips part with a gasp of amusement when they stumble into the frame of a doorway.

"Beckett, where is your room?" he groans, scraping his teeth to the upturned corner of her mouth, swallowing the hum of her moan and relishing in the lace of her arms around his neck.

"If you'd watch where you're going," she breathes, her eyes peeling open to reveal the glittering black pools of her pupils lined with a halo of gold, a striking a shade of lust consuming her gaze that makes him want her even more. Even if the level of desire isn't mutual, even if it'll all be over far too soon and she'll ask him to leave once they're done.

He'll make tonight so good for her that she'll ask him to come back too, that she'll want him again, maybe as much as he wants her. Needs her.

"You'd see it's right behind me," she finishes on a chuckle, stepping backwards and drawing Castle along with her into the room illuminated only by the glow of the moon and streaks of city lights outside her window.

Kate's fingers accomplish their task in ridding him of his shirt, her nails scraping along his skin as she pushes it from his shoulders, and Castle eagerly works to do the same, catching her by the collar of her blouse when the backs of her knees hit the edge of her bed, holding her upright.

He allowed her all of the control the first time in the supply closet, let her take the lead on the couch, but now it's his turn.

Castle works the buttons of her shirt free with surprising ease despite the subtle shake to his fingers, and she expects him to rid her of her bra next, free her breasts of the simple lingerie and nudge her down onto the bed, drive her crazy with his mouth until she's on the verge of explosion. But after her shirt has slid free from her arms and she's left in only her bra, Castle trails his lips down the line of her sternum, lingering in the spot between her breasts, swirling over the strip of smooth flesh with his tongue before he travels lower, painting her skin with open mouthed kisses that have her knees wavering.

Once he reaches the waistband of her slacks, Castle's knees are on her floor, his teeth nipping along the sensitive flesh of her lower abdomen as he unbuttons her pants, draws the zipper down, and allows the fabric to slip down her legs, land with a whisper around her ankles.

And looking down to the sight of him kneeling in front of her with his thumbs hooking in the lace edges of her underwear, his eyes a shade of midnight she's never seen before and staring up at her as he peels the panties from her skin is arguably the hottest thing she's ever witnessed.

Until he settles his hands at her hips and touches his mouth to her core.

The sounds she makes when he brushes his lips to her clit, strokes his tongue over her, are the most erotic he's ever heard, the moan of his name guttural, dripping with need, and he's barely even had the chance to truly touch her.

Her legs tremble against his arms, her fingers in his hair again, nails raking along his scalp as he dips his tongue deeper into the pool of her arousal, hears her gasp and curse and suddenly it's not enough for either of them. Not enough to soothe the ache, the all consuming desperation that's existed since yesterday morning.

"Castle, please-"

Her vision is already going blurry as Castle coaxes her backwards, onto the bed until the firm surface of her mattress is beneath her body, but it nearly goes blinding white the second he joins her, his head between her thighs and his mouth sucking while his fingers slip inside her. God, it's been so long since she's been touched by someone, by hands that weren't her own, and it feels so good, even better that it's him and that he's as talented as she's always imagined. But she wants more, she wants him, wants to feel everything-

He pulls away just before she can fall over the edge, be swept away in the cresting wave of an orgasm just out of reach, and Kate immediately lunges for his mouth once he's crawled up the length of her body, hums at the taste of herself on his tongue before she pitches the weight of her body forward to roll them over. She pins him to the mattress and swallow his pleased gasp of surprise with a grin, straddling his hips and grinding down hard into the solid bulge of him beneath her, staining the front of his slacks.

Castle's hands bruise at the backs of her thighs, his fingers fanning out to feather along the curve of her ass. "Fuck, Kate-"

"Why aren't your pants off?" she breathes, her forehead crashing into his as they both struggle to suck air into their lungs, Castle's chest straining and ragged beneath hers.

"Got distracted," he chokes out, one of his hands squeezing the taut muscle of her ass, earning a harsh undulation of her hips that has them both choking on moans.

"Time to focus," she mumbles, smudging her smirk to his mouth while she maneuvers a hand between them, works the buckle of his belt free, his zipper down, until she can ease her hand inside, through the slit in his boxers.

His entire body arcs at the curl of her fingers around him, the gentle stroke of her palm, but Castle catches her wrist before she can truly work him up more than she already has, tries to breathe past the effects of her touch while anticipation bubbles through her bloodstream.

Rick shimmies his pants down his legs, his boxers too, and Kate rises on her knees, reaches behind her for the clasp of her bra, unhooking the strips of fabric until they fall limp and she can slide the cotton and lace down her arms, exposed to him in the moonlit darkness of her bedroom.

She's blissfully naked above him and he can barely breathe.

Castle flips them back to their original position, stealing the smirk from her lips with the palm of his hand to her breast, the circle of his thumb to her nipple, evoking that same shudder of pleasure from her frame that he remembers from yesterday. The distinct taste of her is still sharp on his tongue, the waves of heat each brush of their skins sparks all consuming, and Rick sinks into the cradle of her thighs when her legs twine around his waist, welcome him in and drag his hips down to collide with hers.

"Okay?" he checks before he can go any further, the length of him grazing the moist heat of her center, causing those breathless mewling noises to fall free from her lips as she nods, wraps her arms around his neck and chants quiet encouragements that do little to ease the wild need to thrust inside her, lose the control he fights so hard to maintain.

"Yeah, yeah, just - fuck, just please-"

He eases into her slowly, grits his teeth to maintain what little semblance of restraint he has left as the tight channel of her body embraces him, stretches to accommodate him, until he's buried deep and Kate is panting against his cheek.

He wants this to last, wants bury himself in this moment, but all he can do is smear a kiss to her mouth before he pulls back at a painstaking pace, glides back in and the gasp of his name on her lips begins to unravel him.

She's choking on sobs that she smothers in the skin of his shoulder, trying to breathe past the intense waves of pleasure crashing over them both with every thrust, every beat of this rhythm they've created – slow and deep and hard, and fuck, how does he know how to undo her so easily, just where to touch and when to hasten his pace, meet the swivel of her hips with the grind of his own, already matching her as if this isn't the first time he's had her.

Kate claws at his back, white-hot crackles of electricity bursting through every part of her, intensifying at the sudden, sweet burn of wet heat at her breast, the swirl of his tongue and the nip of his teeth.

"Castle," she mewls, her spine arching sharply, her entire body on the razor's edge of release, her legs squeezing tightly at his waist, trying to draw him deeper, harder. "More, Rick, just-"

The infinite control, the patience he's possessed from the moment they stumbled into her bedroom, finally snaps, his teeth scraping at the slope of her breast, her bottom lip, before his nose is nudging at her cheek while his hips drive into hers, reach that spot so deep inside of her that has her crying out, shattering apart, letting go.

Her entire body seizes around him, clutches hard, and he follows her over the edge, falls apart on top of her even as he does his best not to crush her. But Kate doesn't seem to mind, her arms still secure around his neck, her face pressed in close against his jaw and the heat of her breath staining his skin.

Rick sighs out against her temple, so wonderfully blissed out as he lies in bed with Kate Beckett after an incredible – no, could he call it extraordinary? Would that be too cheesy? Because holy hell sex with Kate was far more than ordinary and this was the first time he felt wholly out of his element in a woman's bed – round of sex. He had memorized as much as he could, the noises she couldn't bite back, the map of her body and every valley and ridge that caused the bow of her spine to snap, the look on her face when she had finally let go.

"Fuck, you're beautiful when you come," he rasps out, feeling Kate's lashes flutter against his cheek and – and Castle immediately tenses as he realizes what he just said to her out loud.

He prepares for her to stiffen beneath him, to push him away and attempt a gentle form of rejection before she kicks him out of her bed, but her limbs remain loose, her skin warm and lithe beneath him, her heartbeat slowing rather than picking up again beneath the seal of his chest.

Her legs unfurl at his back, but her arms remain around his neck, her nose grazing his cheek when her head turns, her lips dusting over his before she claims his mouth in a kiss, languid and slow, sated.

"Yeah? Well, maybe you can see it again," she husks, smirking against his lips, but Castle can only stare back at her, wide eyed in the darkness. "What's the matter, Castle? Can't handle it?"

Rick sputters. "I can most definitely handle it. I just-"

"Just what?" she prompts, one of her eyebrows curving high in challenge, and in any other occasion, he wouldn't tempt fate, wouldn't risk losing the privilege of his current position, but if Kate Beckett wants honesty, he'll give it to her.

Even if she regrets asking for it.

"I missed you," he states, a little too matter-of-factly, but doing his best to hold this conversation away from the steep edge of seriousness. "Over the summer. I - I know I messed up, looking into your mom's case like that, and I don't want it to happen again."

"You apologized. Stay true to that apology and I can't see that happening," she replies, but Castle shakes his head, props up on an elbow to stare down at her.

"More than that. I don't want this to - to scare you off."

"Do I look scared to you?" she inquires, the corner of her mouth curling, but there's definite apprehension hiding in the depths of her eyes beneath the haze of sex and flickers of amusement.

A little scared, but not totally terrified. Pretty much where he finds himself in this complicated equation they've become as well.

He could work with this.

"Look, Castle, I – I'm not going to make you any promises and I don't know where this could even go, but I don't want to overthink it."

"Okay," he concedes, thoughtlessly brushing her bangs from her forehead, withdrawing his hand and shifting to place a little more distance between them when she chews on her bottom lip. "So, what if we just try things out? Test the waters, see where it goes without any pressure. Because I definitely don't want this to stop anytime soon."

Kate pushes up on her elbows, nudges him off of her and onto his back. For a moment, he's afraid she's about to tell him to go, that he asked for too much, but Beckett doesn't look upset, doesn't appear closed off. She looks… thoughtful, intrigued.

"Okay," she repeats, following the roll of his body and lifting to her knees, reclaiming her place astride his hips, the spark of fear in her eyes smothered, lust and approval creating a lovely blend of black and gold in her gaze. "No pressure."

Relief cascades through his chest, but he ignores it, ignores just how hopeful the idea of Beckett agreeing to pursue anything with him actually has him feeling. Sure, she probably thinks she's in for an easy, friends with benefit style relationship here, but he has no worries about that. It'll take some time, but he's a patient man.

"See, Beckett, we make such a good team in all areas of life," he muses, watching her eyes roll while his lazily roam the gorgeous expanse of her frame on display before him, the spill of moonlight along one of her shoulders, kissing the hard edge of her cheekbone. "Oh, and does this mean I get to take you out and see you in a dress after all?"

"Castle," she huffs, but the edges of her lips are upturned, the rare sparkle in her eyes illuminating her face, and Rick curls his palms at the sharp points of her hipbones, welcomes the descent of her body when she bows over him to capture his mouth. "Just shut up and finish celebrating with me."