Yes, I know I wrote a post-"Always" fic back in May, but after seeing "After the Storm" and getting a few more clues and a little more context about what might have happened, I couldn't resist revisiting that night. I hope you'll indulge me – and maybe even share your thoughts.

Disclaimer – I own nothing.

The Night of the Storm

The only light was from a small lamp on the nightstand. But it was enough.

Castle closed the door behind him and followed Kate into the room, watching as she looked around and took in this private place she had never seen before. He wondered what she was thinking but was almost too afraid to speak. He still wasn't sure this was really happening, and if it was, he hoped he was right to let it. Looking at her awash in the soft glow of a forty-watt bulb, with an expression of such calm peace on her face, more delicate and vulnerable that he'd ever seen her, he knew he didn't have a prayer of stopping whatever was about to happen.

"Nice room," she said, turning to look at him.

"Thanks."

Inanity seemed to be all he could muster. He wanted to say more, but he didn't know what. The part of him that had spent the past four years hoping for any sign from this woman that she felt something for him, that she was as aware of the relentless attraction between them, would have been content to follow placidly where she led, reacting gratefully to her every advance. But a larger part of him, the part that knew this day was inevitable, the part that had goaded and flirted, dug and pried at her, seeking to know her despite every obstacle she could throw up, demanded more than awestruck passivity.

In two steps, he closed the distance between them and placed him palm along her jaw, lifting her face until her eyes met his. Why did it suddenly feel so natural to touch her that way?

"Kate …"

That was as far as he got. Her voice was so soft when she interrupted words he hadn't uttered and didn't even know how to formulate. "Trust me," she whispered, hoping her eyes conveyed what her voice could not. "Later, we can talk. Just not now."

She knew he deserved more answers, but she wasn't going to sacrifice the current of desire, of love, that coursed between them. Too many times it had been severed by their own actions and fears. But not this time. This was a commitment she wanted to make, a threshold she wanted to cross, not only because she knew there was no going back afterward, but because she desperately wanted it. She wanted him. It was both a statement and a surrender. But most of all, it was just finally time.

Raising her mouth to his, she captured his lips once again, and in an instant the fire that had erupted between them moments before flared to life with explosive intensity.

Castle prayed this would not be his one and only chance to be with her, but if it was, he was not going to settle for being a spectator. He'd wanted her for too long, and he was determined to show her exactly what she made him feel and confirm for her exactly how great they could be together.

With those thoughts fighting for absorption in his mind amid the bevy of sensations her fingers and lips were causing as they coursed over his skin, he acted swiftly and decisively. His hands slid down her torso until they reached the hem of her shirt. In one fluid motion, he raised it over her head and tossed it aside. A moment later, his shirt joined hers on the floor. Then piece by piece they helped each other out of their clothes, neither rushed nor patient with the task, but simply eager to uncover more of the other and sample all that was revealed.

Castle took extra care to peel the sodden fabric from her skin before wrapping his arms around her naked form to try to bring some warmth back into the chilled body. But his mouth craved more of hers, and he lowered his head until their lips met. His hands burned a continuous path along her back, dipping to the curve of her behind before grazing up to cup her neck. She felt exquisite. She was everything and more than he'd thought she'd be. Neither shy nor aggressive, she gave and took in equal measure.

There was so much he wanted to do to her, not the least of which was simply stare at the glorious sight she made standing naked in his room. It was as surreal as it was provocative. Looking at her, taking it in, he thought of the velvet skin he wanted to taste and caress, the many places to explore and discover. When his tongue at her throat caused her to arch against him, he knew he could spend hours suckling at that tender hollow just to see how each nerve responded. Her breasts strained for his touch while he watched in awe as the dusky tips pebbled under his attention. When she gasped his name as his fingers fluttered tentatively toward the inviting juncture of her legs, he wanted to stop time just to absorb the scope of sensation and emotion surrounding them. Instead, he took what course was open to him and forged on, touching her first with delicate wonder then finally giving in to her body's demand for more.

He felt her knees buckle and used the opportunity to lay her gently on the bed. So many things he wanted to do, but none so much as one. He accepted that his every movement, his every intent was driven by that primal id, and he willingly drew on that long-latent part of his baser self. Perhaps it was raw possessive masculinity making a rare appearance in his psyche, but he needed nothing so much as to feel her around him, to know that at least once in his life he'd felt what it was to be inside this singularly extraordinary woman who was already a part of him in every other way. There was time for everything else – the rest of the night … tomorrow … forever. This first time was an affirmation, and yes, perhaps even a surrender of every pretense and false guise they had steadfastly – and ineffectually – hidden behind.

Her gaze was dark and her skin flushed as she wound her arms around his back and pulled him down to her. When their lips met, her body relaxed into the bed, and she welcomed him into the cradle of her thighs. She felt him shift and press against her. Almost of their own accord, her muscles tensed with near painful anticipation, and she grasped him impossibly close as he slid slowly and wondrously into her. Her fingers clutched at his back and her calves wrapped tightly around his hips, pulling him deeper. At last. An eternity of wondering, of waiting and dreaming and denying and hoping all melted away as they clung to each other, unmoving for the span of a heartbeat while a sense of solemn awareness settled around them.

And then instinct took over and pleasure began to mount once again. Together they moved, rising and falling, ebbing and flowing, giving and receiving. Her body tensed and relaxed in time to his thrusts so that she arched to meet him time and again. Her legs slid along his to push against the bed while her hands moved unceasingly from his back to his shoulders and chest then down his arms until their fingers twined. When their eyes locked and held, both knew such intensity could only last so long. Her name was a whisper on his lips, even as his floated from her mouth with each gasping breath. Together they pushed and climbed, meeting and receding, somehow knowing on a molecular level that the sensations coursing through them were borne of a perfect storm of all they'd been through and all they were together. When she tightened around him, he knew whatever restraint he had, whatever self-control he fancied himself in possession of, was nothing more than an ephemeral myth. Her body quickly gave way to shuddering waves of release that drew a strangled cry from her lips and brought her hot against him even as he drew his arms around her and held fast while his own limbs grew taut and at last collapsed in final surrender.

To be continued …