Again to 4evercaskett for the idea...the depravity and the ahem...donut conversation 0_0 my eyes forever! and diane for helping me with a very specific part of this! thank you for reviewing and alerting, this was written before alot of them came through and im just going to go an hide whilst you read it :)

Disclaimer: its still not mine and i own nothing...but im on a plane to steal it all if feb 6th does not hurry the f**k up!

He cant quite understand how his name is signed in tattoo ink, black and bright, vivid swirling letters in his handwriting, across the left cheek of her gloriously exposed backside. Not just written…signed!

He's heard about it through the grape vine, in celebrity gossip magazines and on television, fans that get autographed by their favourite celebrities before heading to a tattoo shop and having it inked on for all eternity, it's just never happened to him, and with her of all people.

She's laughing again too hard to answer his questions because he's not reacting at all in the way she expected. He sounds so shocked and he looks baffled, she cant help it, she buries her face in the pillow and laughs.

Oh if only he knew!

"That's my signature Kate." It's not even his name, anyone could write that on, it's his actual signature, the one that graces the covers and pages of his books when he signs them, and, yeah ok, some boobs may have fallen in amongst the mix, but not someones backside.

His fingers skim over his name as it's written on her cheek catching her off guard as she flinches, his hands are just so warm and soft, and though him finding the tattoo was sort of the point of him falling on her like this, it's delayed them getting to the actual sex.

And god she's waited long enough for it!

His fingers are moving again, gentle touches, and, lifting her head to watch him, the laughter just wont die away. It bubbles through the deepest parts of her, hitting and catching low down, even him making her laugh turns her on.

Somehow it doesn't matter that she's laughing though, her humour at their intimacy doesn't detract from it, if anything it enhances it for her, she loves that he can make her crack, break through her armour.

Her eyes are glued to the look of wonder on his face and she lets the smile settle as she realises she really wants him to crawl up the bed, push himself deep inside her and make every resistance she has ever clung to crumble, she wants him to make her lose complete control. She wants him to make her scream.

She swallows, almost gulping down the sensation of ardent lust that sweeps her body, head to toe, through her chest to settle and curl in the pit of her stomach.

Small, smouldering, flames lick at her skin where he touches, forbidden urges, racing images, dilating blood vessels and wet, damp, aching skin, all a reaction to the movement of five digits on his right hand.

"I've signed chests before…" he lifts his head, eyes actually daring to look away from her semi naked ass and he finds her face, stares up at her.

Though he managed to tear his eyes away he doesn't want to give up all contact and he spreads his fingers wide, his hand still laying flat against her skin, unable to stop the twitches and squeezes of his happy fingers.

They will never be able to go outside again, she will simply have to agree to quit her job and become a hermit confined to his bedroom, because now he's done it once, it will be completely impossible to stop touching her, showing her he loves her, kissing her…running his tongue through all the grooves of her body until she quakes, yanks his hair and cries out his name.

He blinks rapidly past the images flooding his head, looking at her again and finds her answering smile, he's pretty convinced this woman can read his mind, especially now as her eyes grow darker and the hot rushing of blood floods her cheeks, making them glow a beautifully suggestive cherry red in the half light of the bedroom.

He thought he could read her mind too, but she, as always, is a mystery, a complexity, and he wonders again because she has his name tattooed on her ass.

Yes, he is going to keep repeating that phrase because it's completely nuts, insane and a whole myriad of other words that mean bat-shit crazy!

She has his freaking name tattooed on her ass!

He wonders how long its been there, how many of her exes have seen it? He wonders if it explains their seemingly instant hatred of him or if that stems simply from jealousy at the undeniable and blatant connection he shared with her.

He smiles, lets his fingers stray under the material, enjoying the sense of satisfaction that washed over him when she moaned.

He has to continue asking her questions though, wheedling the information out of her in little dribs and drabs as she lays beneath him trembling with laughter, and lust.

"Apparently I've signed your chest before but…I have never…ever…"

He thumbed the signature again and she watches all the more intently as his confusion continues to make the funniest looks dart across his face.

She cant get enough of the changes, the nuances she's not seen before, and she really wants his other hand to join the first, wouldn't mind in the slightest if they started to drift lower. In fact if they slipped around to the front and up and under the edge of her silky black underwear she would probably give him a standing ovation (eventually, when she could stand) because the continued movement of his hand is frustrating and delicious.

"…never ever signed someones ass…at least…I don't think I have…have I?" his eyes are lifted now, gazing at the ceiling as if he can see into his own memory and fish out the details he's missing.

He's still rubbing the cheek of her backside so absentmindedly that she cracks and starts laughing again.

It's as if he imagines if he removes his hand the mark will go poof and disappear, and that thought makes her laugh all the more. He looks up at her then and misunderstands.

"Kate please don't tell me I signed your ass and forgot."

She lifted her head so he could see her bright face, lips parted as she smiled and eyes shining back at him with such enjoyment at his confusion.

"It's not funny."

She shook her head in disagreement because it was, it was so very funny. She shook her head again as another bubble of laughter escaped, he just didn't get it.

Oh she's toying with him, teasing little minx, flirtatious and mocking. He lifted his hand, clearly he's lost his mind, he knows he must have because he cant resist, and quick as a flash, before she had a chance to move or react, he smacked it hard across the tattooed cheek with a resounding CLAP!

The minute he did it, he panicked, flinched slightly expecting retaliation, an attack of feet and hands, before he was flipped off the bed.

She jumped the second his hand landed, not from pain but from a combination of the loudness of the noise and the utter audacity of the man. Her naked body spread before him and the sight of his name making him bold, obnoxious, insufferable…completely, overwhelmingly, hot.

It wasn't fair, she needed to bring this little game to an end because he was winning again. Him in command, pushing her buttons, was making her extremely agitated, she was on the verge of rolling over and pulling him up the bed.

Oh she was on the verge of asking him to do that again.

He was in trouble, he had to be, he had just spanked Beckett and scrunching one eye closed he peeked up at her.

Instead of finding her looking back at him like she was going to shoot him, he found her staring, eyes wide and dusky with a look he couldn't quite put his finger on.

It played across her face in the twinkling of her eyes and the tilt of her lips, the arch of her eyebrow conveying more to him than an entire conversation would.

She was shocked he would dare to smack her, admired the fact he took the chance and was clearly still fighting the urge to laugh, but behind all of that was something else, he smiled at her as he caught on, oh she found that hot.

She hid her face in the pillow for a second, dampening down the side of her that wanted him to pin her to the bed, boss her around and make her lose control. The side of her that wanted his crushing kisses, air driven from her lungs in passion and wrists held tight in his grip. She wanted his hot breath in her ear as the bed pounded rhythmically into the wall.

His intense gaze, his playful smile, told her in a million ways how clearly he was reading her reaction to that touch. It wasn't just the action itself, it wasn't just the slap of his hand against her backside, it was the fact it was him. It was the look on his face as he did it, it was everything between the two of them.

He had her, he would have her, could, should, needed to have her right now she thought. Raging, rushing torment of the untouched folds of her body, still trapped behind the black underwear, were crying out for him, she wanted to give in, but there was so much more.

She needed the power back, just for a few more minutes, to regain control, calm the beating pulses and the ache in her stomach.

It took longer than she expected to calm the fire he had stoked, but she got there, steadying breath and clenching her hands, she sat up batting him away.

He watched in confusion as she shoved at him, her hand against his chest, wrestling her body free, his hand sliding along the back of her thigh as she pulled herself up. He let his fingers dawdle and taper along the unmarred line of her calf.

Taking the opportunity, whilst he still stared at the cheek of her ass in awe and amazement, she twisted out from under him, laughing again, and scrambled up onto her knees.

She turned seductively, hand at her hip as she raised herself up, drawing his attention back to her face. She made a show of running her hand along the entire length of her body, fingers skimming her thigh, trailing her chest, she ran her hand around the edge of her nipple, biting her tongue as little tingles erupted under the touch. She moved higher, lifting her hair from her shoulder before running her finger along the edge of her bottom lip and moaning.

Drawing her thumb into her mouth, humming and licking the head of her digit suggestively, watching as his eyes widened and whatever words he had been about to speak died on his tongue, she smiled.

She let her thumb pop over her bottom lip, running it along the wet soft skin at the edge of her lip, deliberately savouring it, lashing it with her tongue and moaning as she let it slip in and out of her mouth a few times.

She kept up her tantalisation of the writer until his eyes were huge and his mouth hung open wide, dragging her teeth over the soft skin making him suck in a deep breath as he imagined her doing that to him. His fingers against her calf muscle tightened as he watched, his breath audible in the room.

She took a calming breath, getting herself under control, before she angled her body towards him again, watching his face the entire time as she lifted her backside higher off the bed, almost directly aiming it at his face before trailing her finger, slowly, very slowly, across the cheek.

His couldn't tear his eyes away from her, followed the thumb she tortured before it began its steady winding path to her backside.

He wanted to be that thumb, wanted her to lick him and lavish attention on his salty skin in the same way, wanted to be able to trail his tongue across the plains of her body in the same way that her wet thumb danced across it.

He watched the glistening of her saliva as she moved closer and closer to her tattoo, his eyes scrunched together in confusion as her body shook with another laugh, her thumb dragged over his name and the first letter smudged into a black mess on her plump pink skin.

His eyes widened again, stunned and puzzled until realisation hit him and he lifted his head to face her, his eyes almost as wide as his mouth as he gaped, but before he could speak, she fled.

Jumping to her feet, she turned her eyes dark and mischievous as she kicked free of her underwear, she let loose a mocking laugh as she ran for her bathroom.

He fought back his own answering laugh, still shocked by so many things but clearly she expected him to chase her and be less than amused.

There was some form of fantasy playing out in her head that he was more than willing to be a part of, some naked Beckett desire that he was privy to, and though he should maybe be a little annoyed she had tricked him all he could think about was the fact that at some point today she had decided she was going to take him home and show him her naked ass.

There was a certain level of pre-planning that had gone into this that made everything shine in a whole new light. Her actions during the course of the day, her gentle leading touches, holding his hand, slipping her tongue in his mouth in the elevator, pinning him against the side of her car before she drove him here.

She had been thinking about it all day and it made him feel smug, she wanted him, oh how wanted him, a look of obnoxious triumph crossed his face.

She was clever alright, but he totally had her sussed. Ok she had tricked him with a fake tattoo but the fact she put it on in the first place, the way she let him use his teeth to find it and the very impressive way she had shown him it wasn't real all led him to believe one thing. She wanted him bad!

She clearly also wanted him to chase her, find her and punish her for her deceit, why else would she have run?

That was just beyond the hottest thing he had ever imagined and he fought hard to maintain an angered persona, playing along, gathering his wits as he leapt from the bed, moving quickly, hot on her heels.

He caught up to the devil woman he had unleashed before she could properly close the bathroom door.

He could hear her on the other side, laughing and trying desperately to close the door against him, only the way her body quaked with hysteria used up all her energy and realising she was fighting a losing battle she gave in.

She slumped, letting go of her grip on the door as she did. Feet sliding, she sucked in a sharp breath of shock as she landed, naked, on the cold tiled floor.

His forward momentum, his fight against her to get in the room came to an abrupt end, and finding himself suddenly free of opposing force he crashed through the door, skidding comically before tripping over her feet and landing opposite her.

His shoulder and head collided painfully with the cabinets under her sink and he hissed, turning to her as her laughter died away and worry replaced it.

"Owhaaaoowww" he moaned clutching his arm and rubbing it hard, trying to negate the pain. He glared at her as she shook again, biting her lip, naked on the bathroom floor as another wave of giggling hit her, she pointed at him and shook her head.

He was fine if he was whinging and she couldn't help it.

She rolled towards him, on her stomach again, and ran her hand along his shoulder as she smiled, at last successfully fighting the mirth. She ran her hand along his injured arm and pouted in sympathy before she raised her eyebrows and laughed at his shocked expression.

"It's a fake." he confirmed, mocking her before grinning at her.

She unleashed a beaming smile and poked him "How long have you known me Castle? Of course it's a fake!" She laughed again, but it cut off fast as he pulled himself forwards, and lay with his body covering hers.

She could feel every contour, every long, lean line, pressing her into the floor. She sucked in a deep breath as the pressure from him forced her chest to expand and her nipples to collide with cold tile.

He extended his hand, running it in one smooth uninterrupted line from the middle of her thigh and up, as he traced over her cheek, still damp from her wet finger, and the smudged black mark that used to be his signature.

He ran his finger over it again, felt her tense as his hand slipped lower, gripping her thigh tight, holding her still.

"How the hell did you get this on here Kate? Are you double jointed?"

"I did it myself." she stated rather uselessly, the way he lay, the small shifting movements of his body as his hand began its torture anew were making her body slip and move against the tiles, building friction unexpectedly. She moaned softly.

"How?" he asked again, his fingers roaming and skimming as he spoke, suddenly very aware she was now completely naked, he draped his leg over hers, rolling her slightly so they were closer to being face to face. Pressed together tight.

She went easily rolling under him, a hand at her chin to hold her head up as the other lifted and ran down the length of his chest, settling at the waist band of his boxers, she moaned when she remembered he was still wearing them, letting her fingers snag at the material and sit just under the edge of the band, touching skin, running her knuckles back and forth.

"I do yoga, I am very flexible." coherent words finally finding their way out of her mouth, teasing words, words that left little to the imagination as both of them started to wonder exactly what positions they would be finding themselves in. She smiled as she thought of all the ways in which she could put her flexibility to the test.

"What made you put it on today?" he asked fairly assured he knew the answer.

She smiled "Because I knew you would be coming home with me…" she twisted her hips under his touch "and I wanted to surprise you."

He laughed then "Oh you did. I really thought for a minute it was real, it's very believable" he smiled watching her, the way her hand moved was distracting, but nor nearly as distracting as the sight of her erect nipples, pink flushed face and mischievous eyes "I mean after you said I signed your chest…"

"Do I seriously strike you as the type of person to have some random mans name tattooed on my body?" though the words sounded harsh the fact she sat up and pushed him backwards negated it.

The way she reached forward and started to remove the last offending item of clothing made him shiver, smile and sigh all at the same time. There should be a word for this feeling, some way of describing it, contentedly aroused maybe.

"I am famous" he stated but not very forcefully as he continued to play with her skin, her hands moving along the inner warmth of his thighs as she drew the boxers down his legs "it has been known to happen."

"Please, you write books, you are not George Clooney." she tossed his underwear over her shoulder and he followed its path of trajectory, watching as it landed just at the foot of her shower.

Images of her wet and dripping body in that shower flooded his head, first stop sex, second stop shower, he caught her eye, the idea flowing between the two of them as she gave him a soft, heated, smile.

"Oh I'm going to tell him you said that." he leant back as she crawled the length of his body, her hands on his shoulders, squeezing tight for balance as she lifted herself up and sat across his lap.

"Shut up! You do not know George Clooney." why they kept up the conversation she didn't know, but they did. Even as she felt his arms move down her back, splaying his fingers across her thighs, digging them in to pull her closer.

He didn't contradict her statement, didn't comment at all, he just let his hands roam over the soft angles of her body, slowly, lifting higher past her hip, over her flat stomach, up the centre of her chest past the collar bone and into her hair. He swept the tussled mass past her shoulder with steady devotion, looping his fingers around her neck to pull her closer.

"Wait, do you seriously know George Clooney." she tried to lean away to look at him, but he kept her still so he could continue, whispering words into her hair when he spoke.

"I am not some random man Kate." he said ignoring her, kissing her neck with soft presses of his lips. Punctuating each word with an affirmation of the truth, he wasn't some random man, never was, never would be.

To prove his point the dragged his nails away from the warm hollow of her neck and pulled them in a jagged line down her chest.

Letting the roughened edge of his fingertips and nails catch at the swollen skin of her nipples, feeling her gasp, he continued his steady path down wards, pressing his thumb to the edge of her belly button he felt her tip into him, her hips lifting slightly.

He could feel her, wet and pulsating lightly against the edge of his thigh, acutely aware of how their naked bodies could fit together as she lifted closer, rocking her hips against his leg.

"Not now no." she agreed, her voice cracking a little as his fingers slipped between them, hands clamping her to his throbbing groin as his thumbs grazed the grooves of her hips.

Smiling, softly at him as he moved, eyes closing briefly as she felt the steady pressure of his fingers, circling lower and lower, she arched her back, pressing her hips forwards.

She sucked in a surprised breath when she made contact with the rigid length of his straining penis, and unable to resist the call of their bodies she lifted herself high, white knuckled fingers gripping his shoulders, and slid down him, settling at his waist with a heavy exhale of air, her head falling into the curve of his neck.

She heard the growl that vibrated his chest as she literally took him by surprise and at last joined their bodies together.

"Fuck!" he moaned as his mouth fell over her neck again, teeth harsh at her pulse point.

"Duh!" she huffed back, wrapping her arms tight around his neck as she rocked forwards against him.

He pulled her close, rolled her gently, changing their position so he could lay across her with his lips at her ear "Does that mean you'd have a real one now?" his hand slipped underneath her, squeezing the cheek with the black smudge "you know how much I love your ass."

She laughed loudly smacking him playfully across the chest "You're not exactly subtle are you?" She smiled "I've seen you staring, everyone has seen you staring."

"Does that mean you'll do it?" his lips brushed in time to the rhythmic squeezing of his fingers before he paused waiting for her answer.

She lifted her head, closing her eyes as she pretended to deliberate then she opened her eyes, scrunched her nose and caught hold of his chin.

She pulled his face until they were looking directly into each others eyes before she spoke. "You are not tramp-stamping me with your name Richard Castle, neither are you branding me with it."

"Not branding you…" he said as he started to suck at the soft skin behind her ear, his lips pulling it over his teeth and rubbing them back and forth gently "…claiming you."

She pinched him hard "Excuse me?"

"Not claiming you, claiming you, not owning you." he backtracked fast as he continued, letting out a long sigh, sometimes she was such a handful, he squeezed her again smiling, sometimes literally "I just want to kiss you and love you and keep you."

She pinched him again, harder, and he flinched, wanting to retaliate he pulled back, lifted his hips from her before sliding back down slowly.

"Yoooou…can kiss me and love me and I might even let you…" she tried to roll her eyes but he moved again, pulled backwards"…keep me, but you are not…" she kissed him lightly on the cheek "at any point," she kissed him at the edge of his mouth "ever tattooing your name on my ass."

He opened his mouth to speak as he surged forwards, but she intercepted his next question by covering his lips with her own. She kissed him, her mouth inviting him in as eagerly as her body, wet and soft and warm, lips parting for his invasion, pulling all thoughts and coherency from him before she leant back and said breathily

"Or anywhere else!"

He smiled, burrowing closer, pulling her nearer, as near as he could get her, before he whispered "Compromise? Show me your real tattoo, tell me where it is and I'll let it go." he squeezed her again deliberately leaving her wondering exactly what he was letting go of. He kept them trapped, small tremors from their joined bodies increasing in intensity the more he stayed still, he could feel her thrumming, pulsing and contracting against him.

"I'm…telling yoooou nothing." she answered shakily, her tongue snaking out and dragging at the edge of his ear "You'll just…have to…loooook."

He moved, pulling his ear from her mouth and its evil ministrations, to pepper her mouth with kisses, his hand slipped low again, catching at her knee and drawing her leg around him.

"I don't look…" he said, mimicking her words, her hot and deadly possessive words, as his teeth grazed her ear and he shifted his hips to press even more deeply into her "…I hunt."