Kate Beckett woke up for the first time in months in her own bed, wrapped in her husband's arms. It felt so good that she just lay there for a moment, quietly breathing and soaking it in.

She must have stirred a little, because the solid warm bulk of Castle shifted a little behind her, his arm tightening around her waist, although she could tell from the sound of his breathing that he was still asleep.

The feeling of his skin against hers reminded her that they had both fallen asleep naked. It had been an exhausting evening. After she had finally come clean about what she had been doing the past few months, there had been the arguing, the apologies, the questions, the anger. And then it had all wound down and they had looked at each other, and suddenly they were in each other's arms, ferociously, frantically needy. They had made love with a desperate intensity, fast and hard and passionate, fueled by months' worth of pent-up longing.

Beckett had thought that when they finally came back together, they would make love for hours; but in the event, the long separation followed by the emotional conversation and the first explosive round of sex had exhausted them both. They'd fallen asleep in a tangle of limbs and sheets, skin to skin, and that's where they still were now, hours later with the first tinge of daylight beginning to light the sky.

And now, feeling more rested than she had in a long time, she was ready and eager to have her husband again. And again.

Twisting in his arms, she pushed herself up onto one elbow and took a moment to just enjoy the sight of Castle lying next to her. His hair was rumpled, his face peaceful. His broad bare chest rose and fell steadily.

Something on the nightstand behind him caught her eye, and she sucked in a breath, feeling an even stronger surge of desire for him. But first, she needed him awake.

Grinning a little, she slithered farther down under the covers, finding him with her hands and then her mouth. She took him in and sucked softly, feeling him begin to harden against her lips even as the stirring of the rest of his body told her that he was coming to wakefulness.

"Beckett?" his sleep-slurred voice floated down to her, and she inhaled through her nose and sucked harder, swirling her tongue forcefully. She heard him gasp, and his hips twitched strongly under her.

"Oh god. Oh god, Kate," he groaned, his hands scrabbling at the sheet, finally managing to fling it aside so he could see her. He groaned again at the sight of her crouched between his thighs, her cheeks hollowing out as she moved her mouth up and down on him. His hand lifted to her face, gently pushing her hair off her forehead, his fingers caressing her temple as he gazed at her with sheer adoration.

She lifted off of him for a moment. "Castle," she said urgently, her hand circling up and down his shaft as she stared up at him. He let out a brief huff of dismay and blinked rapidly.

"Wh-What?"

"Put them on," she ordered, nodding toward the nightstand. Bewildered, he turned to look, and his eyebrows went up.

"Uh? Okay..." He reached over, and as his fingers closed around the stem of the glasses, she lowered her head again, taking him back into the wet heat of her mouth. She slid her lips slowly up and down his length, watching as he fumbled to bring the glasses to his face and get them situated.

When they were properly placed, he looked down at her again, and she moaned around him, squeezing her thighs together. She moved faster on him now, her hand rolling his balls as her mouth bobbed up and down. When his hands closed tightly around her shoulders, his throat working around a string of helpless grunts, she met his eyes and gave him a quick nod, then closed her eyes and sucked him in one last time and felt him break. The hot gush down the back of her throat made her whimper with need and she pressed her legs together harder, even as she continued working him gently with her lips and tongue.

As he subsided, she slid back up the bed to drape herself halfway across his chest, their faces inches apart. "Morning," she husked, grinding herself lightly against the thick muscle of his thigh.

"Good morning to you too," he managed, panting, curling an arm around her. "I can see just fine without them, you know."

"I know," she replied, her voice a little strangled as she examined the glasses. "I just...wanted..." She trailed off, taking his hand and guiding it to her breast. She stretched over to kiss him, the glasses bumping her cheek and forehead. Her breathing sped up and she forced her tongue into his mouth, desperately plundering, trying to drink him, devour him.

"Whoa," he mumbled, squeezing her breast, rubbing his thumb over the nipple, bringing his other hand around to run across her hip. "Is it the glasses? Really?"

"Do you still have the tweed jacket?" she asked against his mouth, her hips pressing more firmly against him. His wandering hand dipped between her thighs and she gasped, jerking against him as his knowing fingers found her slippery heat. His eyes darkened when he felt just how wet she already was.

"Is there something you wanted to learn from Professor Castle?" he asked in that low growl that he knew she loved. Her whole body twitched involuntarily and she whined with need, biting down on his lower lip.

"Give me some homework," she gasped, pressing her hips into his hand. His fingers circled unrelentingly, right where she wanted them. It was so good she almost couldn't breathe. "Please, Professor."

"Oh, I have an assignment for you, Kate," he rasped into her ear. "It's going to be ... hard."

"The harder the better," and suddenly she was flat on her back with him looming over her, his hands hooking in the backs of her knees and drawing them up, opening her wide. She was whimpering now, desperate, reaching for him.

True to his words, he was hard again and she felt him nudging at her entrance, teasing.

"I'll give you extra credit if you finish on time," he whispered, and shoved into her in one hard thrust. She cried out, her fingernails digging into his shoulders.

"Oh yes, oh god," was all she could manage as he drove into her again and again, and she was so close already that it hardly took any time until she was shattering under him, clinging to him with arms and legs for dear life.

As she slowly returned to herself, she found Castle leaning over her, watching her with a slight smile ... and those glasses still on his face.

Panting, she surged up and kissed him again, more tenderly this time, not quite as desperately, but still full of passion; full of all the love she felt she needed to show him, after having left him in doubt for so long.

"Wow," he managed after a long moment of deep kissing, "I had no idea about this teacher fetish of yours."

"Shut up," she mumbled, grinning and blushing at the same time. "I just, you looked so hot in the costume."

"It wasn't a costume," he objected. "I really taught a couple of classes." She sucked in a heated breath at that. He blinked slowly down at her, and his mouth curved up, his hand moving across her body again. "Oh, Kate."

"Shut up," she managed again, breathless. She hated and loved the fact that he could tell how much it turned her on to imagine him at the front of a lecture hall, his voice ringing out authoritatively as he paced back and forth behind the lectern.

Fuzzily, she realized that he was still hard against her hip, and she struggled to focus her eyes as he stroked her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. "You still with me, Professor?"

"Always," he breathed, and they kissed again, slowly, hotly.

"Promise you'll never wear that tweed jacket outside this room," she whispered, shuddering with desire. He smirked.

"Promise you'll get a slutty schoolgirl costume for inside this room," he whispered back, sliding his hand underneath her and squeezing her ass.

"Ohh," she moaned, arching up against him. "Short plaid skirt, white shirt, white stockings?"

"Shit," he swore, and suddenly yanked her over onto her stomach, rolling on top of her. She gasped as his broad chest covered her back, pressing her down into the mattress, and he slid inside her, groaning urgently against the nape of her neck.

"Rick," she moaned, pressing her hips back at him as he thrust unsteadily in and out. "I love you."

"Oh god." She felt his open mouth on her neck, his tongue writing words on her skin. "I love you too," and he emptied himself inside her, shuddering.

A few damp, panting moments later, she rolled over and found that he had taken the glasses off. A small surge of disappointment quickly faded, because after all, they were only getting started. She smiled softly, and he smiled back.

"Coffee?" he suggested, and she groaned appreciation.

"God, yes." She grinned a little. "As soon as I can make my legs work."

He laughed softly and leaned over to press a light kiss on her lips. "I'll make it." He pulled back to look into her eyes. "And after we drink it, I'm gonna put on the tweed, and you and I are going to work on our oral presentations."