Castle 1. Chapter 1

**A/N: It's been done to death, but I wanted to try my hand at an M rated after 'Always' fic, so here we are. It definitely warrants the M rating, so be warned. I have not written smut in a long time, so I may be rusty. I got the inspiration after watching 5x01 again, and the Caskett dialogue at Beckett's apartment hinting that there had been three times...thus the title.**

_"We could always go for a round two..."_

_"Well, technically it would be a round four..."_

A flurry of action brought them to his bedroom, fingers squeezing –unable to let go. Desperation snapping as he cupped her face in one hand, kissing her, her hand working free from his tight grip to thread her fingers into his hair.

The moment he closed his bedroom door, she was kissing him again, their mouths colliding and he stumbled from the force, the only thing holding their lips together the hold she had on the back of his head, nothing comparing to the sharp, hot taste of her on his tongue.

He dropped his hands to her waist, a slow slide from her shoulders over the soft, warm skin of her back, fingers tracing down her spine. A gentle caress despite the heated way they were devouring each other's mouths, unable to drag lips from each other long enough to ease the volatile whirlwind of desire now ripping through him, mirrored by her.

Her arms were around his neck, anchoring her to him and he backed her into the door, his hand braced there as he palmed the edge of her hip, his fingers under her shirt to curve around the smooth, hot skin under his palm.

He pressed his lower body to hers, sliding his hand around to her lower back, pressuring her to be flush up against him, and she moaned into his mouth, her thigh hitching over his hip, pressing herself into him, her leg dragging him closer.

He groaned as he rocked himself against her, levering her there as he tasted the desperation of her kiss. He let go of the door, dragging at the edge of her jacket to get it off her -unsuccessfully given the fact that he was pressed so closely to her straining body. They were flush up against each other, the skin under his palm so soft he ached to taste the bare flesh, and uncover it for his heated gaze.

He slid his hand back around to palm the slim curve of her waist, her hip bone jutting into his hand before he dragged that hand upwards to lift her shirt, heavy caress sliding up to her bare ribs as she sucked in a breath against his parted lips, breaking the kiss to pant out his name.

"Off." She murmured against his mouth, hot breath exhaling against his tongue as she kissed him again, going in for a deep exploration before she was pushing at his shoulder to get him to back off. She lowered her leg back down from around him and he immediately felt the loss of the heated press of her body aligning with his.

He wanted to protest, but before he could, she was shoving him backwards, following him as he hit the dresser behind him, his body jolting as his back connected. Her mouth fused to his, her hands slipping to his shirt to force the buttons loose. He skimmed his hands over her shoulders to press her gaping shirt and wet jacket off, tossing them away to thump against the floor.

She fumbled with his belt, abandoning the shirt, her fingers sure and demanding, the way that her mouth closed at his bottom lip surging a spear of need south, the hum of a groan rumbling in his chest at the viscerally desperate way she kissed him. Her teeth sank into his lip to tug before she pulled back, eyes skimming downwards to focus on getting her shaking hands to undo his pants.

She was in constant movement, body almost vibrating as their tongues clashed once more, and he thought faintly that he could really get used to the taste of her and the feel of her. If this was what he had been waiting for, then his time had not been wasted.

This moment made it worth it, despite the pain and the heartache.

He took a moment to breathe through his arousal, gentling the kiss with a hand along her jaw, his thumb brushing at the side of their joined mouths, feeling the movement of her jaw as she kissed him, his fingers teased by strands of her damp hair.

His fingers tensed on her bare waist a moment before he pushed forward off the dresser, making her stumble back, propelling her backwards as his mouth collided with hers, needing that taste on his tongue, seared into his lips. He adeptly undid her damp pants, unable to drag the moist denim away until he could wrest her boots off her feet, tossing them aside like bricks in her wall, dragging each barrier free with seeking hands.

He had always thought he would take his time undressing her, seducing her with gentle, insistent caresses, a slow build of teasing touches and skimmed fingertips, but the momentum she had set the moment she had thrown herself at him dictated otherwise, the revelation that she just wanted him inciting his need. That dormant need broke free from its tethers now, erupting from within him, coalescing into this one moment after too long denied.

He wanted her desperate breaths –seeped in desire- and the haunted quality of her gaze searing him. Because he _needed_ that. Needed to feel her alive and writhing beneath him, like so many times he had dreamed and fantasied about just that.

Here, in the hushed dimness of his room, there was a vicious, threaded desire that was darker with its intensity crawling under his skin. From the fight, from the hurt and the regret. From the very emotions that had been tearing his heart to shreds since the moment words of _'I love you'_ had slipped from his mouth and she had ignored it. Disregarded it and in turn disregarded _him_…

The unveiled expression on her face as she had come to him though, her appearance there in his doorway, soaked to the skin, regret and sorrow and tears trembling in her eyes…

It had shaken him to his core. It had cancelled out the bitter anger, replacing it with this bone-deep desire he had to shield her from danger. That need to ensure that she was _safe_.

It hadn't been the apology breathed so raw across his damp mouth as she had gripped him, mooring herself to him like he was her harbour, her body shivering, but the expression on her face. It had shaken him. _Decimated_ him.

He had been angry enough to brand her with harsh words, her kiss instead igniting a potent desire within him, awakening, undermined momentarily by the concern that arced inside him at her uncharacteristic actions.

Nothing short of self-actualisation could have brought her to his doorstep tonight, a self-actualisation that settled a foreboding lump deep in his chest, squeezing tightly as she murmured that she had almost died into the space he'd created between their lips. Trying to understand her motivation.

The truth of what had brought her to his doorstep was an agonisingly beautiful display of pure and instinctual _need_ he could never deny. Because in that moment he had needed her just as much to chase away the remnants of loss and fear.

They were caught in their own storm of unsatisfied longing.

He pulled back long enough to curve his hands at the sides of the black bra he had caught glimpses of in his entry way, the dark material a contrast to her damp skin, taking mere moments to draw it from her body.

His room was dark, rain buffeting the high windows in driving torrents, the storm outside that raged overhead echoed by the storm between them, harsh breathes cutting through the almost oppressive heat inside the room.

Breathes sawing, breathing each other in when their lips broke, foreheads pressed as she reached sure hands up to work away his shirt which she had abandoned to reach his pants, the insistent pressure of his nimble fingers and the way her damp, parted lips opened against his eroding his resistance, stripping it away just as surely as she stripped the garment from his shoulders, finally, their bodies merging together in a heated press.

No words.

Heated skin pressing to heated skin, his dominating strength showing now as he lifted her against him, depositing her on his bed, his feverish mind swirling with the image of her laid out there, seeming to _belong_ in his space, warm the room with her presence. _Finally_. All the unspent desire boiled up from the repression of too many years as he recognised the reality that was facing him now.

Kate Beckett in his bed.

Kate Beckett pressed to the comforter, her hands gripping onto his shoulders, biting into his bottom lip as she met his frantic kiss lash for lash. He broke it as her leg came up around his hip, heel pressed to the back of his thigh as her hips arched up into him, a groan cutting across her cheek as he met her with a downward press. She ground herself into him, her head falling back as her arm came around his shoulders, holding onto him as he dipped his head down to taste the damp skin of her throat, his fingers catching in her hair as he kept her head tilted for his lips to scour her addictive flesh.

He licked the rain-scented skin. Sweet. Cool. _Beckett_.

"Castle." Her voice –_hers_- stuttered out across his ear and he found himself pulling back, but only to capture her parted lips with his, kissing her deeply, the taste of her now a part of his mouth. He knew he would never be able to get that taste from his tongue now. From his mind. _Maddening_.

He pulled back, his gaze hooded as he reared back onto his haunches between her denim covered legs. Eyes meeting. Hers dark with her desire, glistening with it, fierce need dragging him down into that spiral of lust he had fought to regulate for far too long.

Underneath that potent desire there was a raw emotion that he wouldn't try to name, because he had never seen that look on her face before. That clinging _need_.

These were not the eyes of the no-nonsense detective.

This was _Kate_ he was seeing. Undone by whatever terrible experience that had brought her here, the shimmer of tears in her eyes making her teeth sink into her bottom lip, the sharp lines of her features made sharper by the flashes of lightning and the hollows of shadow.

He was frozen for a moment, the longing in her expression as a small sound he related to a whimper broke from her lips to greet his ears, her hands coming to reach for him, but he shook himself, dipping his head down to taste the scar that marred her flesh just to the side of the swell of her breast, tongue flicking over the mark that had almost taken her from him…

He breathed her in, his lips against that scar, his eyes closing against the swell of raw emotion that rose inside him, trying to focus on this moment and not the reason for that scar, feeling himself sinking into her as her fingers slipped through his hair calmly, as if she knew his thoughts. Soothing him. Telling him it was okay. His fingers found her side, soothing gently over the surgical scar that cut into her skin, rubbing back and forth to feel the ridge of her survival carved into her side, the antithesis to the bullet hole that had tunnelled through her chest.

He swallowed and skimmed his mouth lower, feeling her back arch under the pressure of his mouth on her ribs, tracing her skin with his tongue before working further down. His lips closed at one side of her navel to suck on her skin, leaving a mark there as he moved lower, his palms framing her hips as his fingers pushed underneath the waist of denim, dragging the damp material down her legs and off, tossing them back behind him, his gaze cutting across her semi-naked form. He grazed his teeth over her hip bone, his hands slipping beneath her to cradle her to him as he mapped her skin with his mouth, the fingers of one hand curving at her thigh to part her legs for him.

He crawled back up her body, trying to slow the momentum. To savour her, and she let him, her fingers tracing across his jaw as she looked at him, revealing so much in the depths of her eyes. Bare to him.

He loosely leashed his fingers at her wrists, pressing her arms into the bed to keep them there as his free hand coasted down her side, his lips breaking from her to drag across her jaw, resting there as he pushed one thigh between her parted legs. He felt a debilitating need strain to be released from within him, but he wouldn't succumb. Not yet.

He traced the taut curve of her thigh, his fingers trailing over the edge of her panties, unerringly finding the place where heat emanated from her, feeling that heat now as he cupped his hand over the cloth that acted as a flimsy barrier against him. The dampness of the material maddened his senses and she arched up under his touch, her body unable to stay still, her back arching, her hands gripping onto him, mouth opened from the almost desperate way he had kissed her.

She turned her head to kiss him, her tongue slipping across his bottom lip and he groaned, capturing her mouth with his, her taste sinking into him, her moan vibrating through him. He continued to kiss her as he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, finding her swollen and wet, soaking his fingers, the answering pulse of his own body compelling him to press his hips to hers, the sharp edge of his lust squeezing inside him.

He broke the kiss, her ragged breath damp against his lips, the stuttered whisper slipping past her lips urging him to slip one finger inside her, the tight squeeze of her creating a perfect pressure around the digit.

She bowed upwards which pressed his finger deeper, her gasp of pleasure surging south, the raw groan that erupted from him filled with the potent lust that was lacerating his insides at the feel of her.

He lurched back, blind to everything but getting her naked and tasting every patch of skin he could find, dragging her panties down her legs, off her hips and flinging them away, his hands at her hips. He dragged her further below him, moving down the bed as he descended between her thighs, mouth open and planted on her on his next breath. He pushed his fingers deeper, curling the tips of them upwards to stroke inside her, his tongue sweeping over the flesh, teasing his senses with her scent.

The taste of her hit his tongue making a groan rumble up from his chest as a stab of pure lust skittered under his skin, spearing straight to his groin. The tight clutch of her around his fingers broke another groan from his throat as he imagined that squeeze masterfully clenching around him.

The groan vibrated against her as he flicked his tongue out over her soft, wet flesh, curving his fingers upwards inside her –rubbing, rubbing, licking, lips closing to suck away the moisture until she started to shudder beneath him. Her body vibrated with tension as her fingers tightened in his hair, involuntary sighs and hums of pleasure carrying to his ears as her thighs tightened.

Her hips rolled down onto his fingers sharply, before arching upwards and he pressed her leg back to the bed, his hand warm and heavy on her thigh to keep her still for his touch. He soothed his thumb back and forth as he continued to lave between her thighs with hot sweeps of his tongue.

"God…_Castle_…" She whimpered above him, her hand tugging at the strands of his hair as he flicked his tongue out, fingers twisting, screwing into her and she arched upwards, her body vibrating with tension, the echo of his name -slurred with arousal- greeting his ears. He couldn't stop, addicted to the taste of her, making her shudder with each measured, hungry lick.

'_I could do this forever'_, he thought inanely, feeling her, finding the places that made her hips arch and press harder into his fingers, the places that made her voice crack over her inaudible pleas, her body jerk as he hit her _there_.

She trembled, at the razors edge of climax and he slowed, keeping her there, wanting to feel that vibration, those sweet shudders. Wanted her to feel all the ways he could do this to her. Affect her this way.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, her body stilling as a sound he'd never heard her make erupted from her mouth, halfway between a plea and a cry, her body stilling as he circled his fingers in her wetness and then slid them inside again, curling them, rubbing at her until she fell apart, slumping back on the bed as her orgasm rocked through her and him, the muscles of her body quivering around his fingers.

He looked up at her, her head tossed back to his pillows, stretched out naked on _his_ bed, her eyes hooded and dark and unfocused on him as the powerful lash of her climax rolled through her. Her hips rolled down onto his mouth, breathes stuttering into the stillness, the storm beyond this room blocked out to the sound of her pleasure, the ways she breathed his name like a prayer to his ears. He pressed his hips hard to the mattress, the ache between his legs unable to be sated, but, fuck, he wanted her. Wanted her whispering and crying into his ear as she came around him just like she was now. He _needed_ it, the desire within him shredding his resistance.

He came up over her, leaning back on his haunches for a moment to snag her wrist as she reached for him, his eyes on the watch that engulfed her wrist. He unclasped the black band slowly and removed it, lifting her hand and kissing the inside of her wrist.

The tenderness in her expression jarred him, but he didn't focus on that feeling that expanded in his chest, instead he placed her father's watch carefully on the night stand and kissed her, gentle at first, feeling so _relieved_ by her presence here. Now. Appreciating it more because of the struggle and the heartache that had been imbedded into their rocky path to this moment.

She wasn't wearing her mother's ring, and he wasn't sure what to think of that.

She came forward, her fingers trailing down the middle of his chest to his belt, getting it undone in a moment of time, her hand grazing over the ridge of denim below and he groaned at the feeling of her rubbing her palm over him so deftly.

He moved back off the bed and dropped his pants, shoving them off before he came up over her, his gaze fixed on the hectic rise and fall of her chest and he lurched back onto his haunches, needing to watch the way her body arched under his hands, the way her abdomen knotted with clenched muscles as her hips tilted up off the bed, the way her breasts looked tipped with rosy pink nipples begging for his mouth. The way her lips parted to release the small sounds she made as he played her body like she was a keyboard under the stroke of his fingertips, spelling out words of need under the contours of her skin.

He dragged her to him by her sides, urging her legs up around his waist until she was stretched out before his hungry gaze, rubbing himself at her opening, teasing her as fully as he teased himself with the wet glide of her flesh against the hard angle of his, pushing slightly –maddening them both with heated intent, but –as usual- she wasn't one to go at his pace, making everything at hers, and he couldn't complain as her hips arched downwards onto him, enveloping him with the flesh he had fantasised about many a lonely night.

A forced breath expelled from his lungs at her move, the sudden pressure of her clenching around him making him almost bow forward under the feeling that swamped him –maddening and unbelievable desire assailing him, his hands clamped hard at her hips to try to bring himself back under control before he fell upon her to finish this quick.

A graceful shiver rocked her, her hand coming over his that was now holding her steady at her hip and he couldn't stop himself from flexing his hips forward, filling her in one long stroke.

She did move then, her body rolling downward, eyes skimming up to meet his the moment they were joined. His hand flexed at her hip to hold her still, but she was in constant motion, her thighs clamping on either side of his waist, head falling back hard into the pillows, pelvis tilting to him like she couldn't help but want him deeper. More firmly a part of her. And he knew that feeling so intrinsically, he froze for a moment at the reality he was experiencing. It wasn't just speculation on his part now, the way they would fit so closely together, like puzzle pieces clicking into place. It was fact.

She was hot and squeezing around him. Perfect. A part of him. His senses were reeling at the taste and feel and scent of Kate Beckett permeating his head.

Her body writhed, trying to get him to move and a small sound of warning filled the space between them, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she looked up at him from where she was trapped beneath him, and he finally began to move for her, decimating them both with one measured thrust at a time.

Tension knotted in her muscles, building clearly in the depths of her eyes and the soft _oh_ of her lips as she released the bottom one from between her teeth, and he could feel her body begin to give way under his onslaught, holding her so solidly against him, filling her without a pause, and he slipped his fingers down between them, his eyes skimming over her before narrowing between her thighs, watching with unfolding desire as he slid himself inside her, connecting them in the most fundamental of ways as the elements raged outside.

He rubbed his thumb downwards, her body shuddering under the firm press and she bowed upwards, a helpless moan stuttering from her lips as she climaxed, her whole body tightening around him, fingers clenched over his hand, the waves of her orgasm almost taking him under with the force, her body trembling with it.

She slumped breathless for a moment, the coiling tension in his body tightening as he continued to move his hips, trying to pull himself back from that brink of stormy release. He moved a little slower, withdrawing before sliding calmly back inside, not wanting to be parted from her yet. Not yet. Not when he had just found this place.

He fought to calm the erratic beating of his heart, the way she had flown apart so beautifully under the plying pressure of his body forever seared into his brain. Driving need speared him, brutal throbs like _pain_ echoing in his limbs and muscles.

But he wouldn't give in. Wouldn't crash down into the warmth of her yet.

He wanted to continue to watch that flush stain her skin, damp with the rain and a sheen of sweat.

Her eyes pinned to him there as he stilled inside her, holding her to him to keep from slipping from her, the dark flash of desire that churned in those luminous eyes of hers drawing him in like she was a flame and he was that proverbial moth…

But he wasn't going to die if he touched her, instead, she enflamed him.

She came to him, lifting herself up and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, effectively straddling him as her breasts sank into the expanse of his bare chest, the warmth of her sinking into his flesh. Her mouth parted against his, tongue slipping across his lip before delving inside to meet with his, dragging her teeth over his bottom lip as she pushed at him.

He went willingly where she pressured him, his back to the mattress as she rose up over him, her move pressing him deeper within her body. She released his mouth, settling on him, thighs tensing at either side of his hips, her hands falling to brace by his head as they breathed each other in.

She sank down onto him, his hips arching upwards involuntarily, driving himself deeper inside her. A hum vibrated between their joined mouths, the wet glide of her tongue chasing his back into his mouth transferring the sound –halfway between a soft, needful sigh and a moan. He wrapped his fingers at her waist, squeezing as she started a roll of her hips, dragging a grunt from him as she began to move, the maddening motion as her thighs clenched on each upward withdrawal causing him to break the lock of their lips, his head slamming back to his pillows. He moved –pushing up on his arms before wrapping them around her to help her move.

Her breaths were heavy, eyes filled with smouldering and intense desire, a heat and haunted darkness making him only grip onto her harder, wanting to erase that grimness from her expression. He couldn't stop his gaze from dipping to her damp mouth as she focused on him, the way she dragged her teeth over her bottom lip ensnaring him, her hands that had been gripping his shoulders to steady herself now easing around his neck. Their foreheads pressed together as he breathed her in, the novel feel of Kate Beckett's flesh enveloping his, her still damp body and fall of her hair scented with rain and essence of her skin drawing him in.

He loved the way she moved on him, all sensual yet demanding, hips arching downwards, rolling on him before pulling up, the slick slide of her body dragging ragged breathes from him each time she pressed back down on him. He flexed his fingers at her hips, thumbs rubbing down the hollow of her pelvis, the softness of her skin tantalising him to keep stroking her as she stroked him.

"Beckett…" He murmured, her name slipping from his mouth unbidden against the side of her jaw, and he felt her body tremble for a moment, her rhythm faltering as he broke the quiet, pulsing silence. She pulled back and her lips crashed to his, swallowing his next expulsion of breath, the taste of her a heady reminder of what this was. How _real_ this was. Palpable. The slick drive of him as he jerked up inside her echoing with an answering sigh from her lips.

"Kate." He said now, her name on both their lips, stuttering out into her mouth as she broke the kiss, eyes intense. Her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears, the volatile clench of his heart at the sight reminding him that this could have _never_ been just about sex. Could have never just been physical.

The deeper emotion shortened his breath now and squeezed like a vice around his heart.

Too much. Too potent.

An ache because he had to bite back the words that filled his chest. She seemed to see something in his eyes though, reading him like one of his books, her forehead pressing back to his as she stroked his hair back, fingers fierce.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, voice hitching on the words –whether from the movement of their bodies or something more profound he couldn't tell. Maybe both. The words were breathed across his cheek as she circled her hips, slower now, pressing down on him again. A slow glide that incited his fierce need and gave him a teasing sensation of pleasure which rippled like a disrupted pound around him.

The need overtook the tightness of his throat and he reached up, his hand cupping her jaw to angle her head so he could get at her kiss-swollen lips. He had ached to taste them so many times, and it was too much to resist for too long, the fuse of their lips keeping him afloat in a sea of desire and unquenchable emotion.

The expression on her face was one of deep passion, the glint in her eyes propelling him second by second towards his own release, years of wanting her overriding his desire to prolong this. He could do nothing but hold onto her, hands curving at her waist as she rose up on him, her rhythm faltering for a moment as he traced her spine with his fingers before settling back at her hips to feel them roll down onto him, rocking before lifting again and pressing back down in a steady ebb and flow motion. He arched his hips upwards, body seizing, spears of sensation uncoiling inside him as he found his release, the pinwheels of pleasure circling inside him until all he could feel was her. All he knew was her. Everything else faded to the background of his thoughts, his whole world made up entirely of the feel of her surrounding him, breathing with him, loving him. Nothing else penetrated the deep fog of his climax.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

She was panting against his damp chest, body curved to his, laying on him, her drying hair spread over the side of his chest and he held her to him, not wanting to move from beneath the warmth of her lithe body or disrupt her resting place. This was too new, and he liked the feeling of her body pinning him to the bed like this, after succumbing to a round of incredible sex.

But, their skin was cooling in the aftermath and he could feel the supressed shivers that made her body tremble. She'd been soaked to the skin when she had come through his door, and now, she was shaking.

"Hey." He murmured against her temple, feeling her hair brush against his lips. He flexed his fingers on her shoulder before he slowly moved her to his side, her slim body tucking into his as he moved. Her gaze trekked up to his, the open expression there taking his breath for a moment as she reached up to trace his jaw carefully. The way she followed the path of her fingers with her eyes hinted that she had ached to do it more than once, but was only now allowing herself the freedom to do it.

He took her hand in his and smiled slightly at the way she touched him, feeling his heart swell in his chest, and he watched a ghost of a smile curve her mouth in reaction. He wanted nothing more than to take the haunted look from her gaze. Show her that this would not be another thing she would regret. She was trembling more now, and he had to remedy that first.

"Come on." He murmured and she frowned, uncertain, as he moved to get off the bed. They were still on top of the comforter and he felt a moment of idiocy that he hadn't at least gotten her _into bed_ properly before losing his mind with her.

"Castle…" She began, and he took the moment to lean down and capture her lips in a sudden kiss, wondering in that second how he had resisted doing that for so long. Her body bowed into his, her fingers reaching up to slide through his hair, smoothing the strands with nimble fingers…

He pulled back and sat up, drawing her up with him, shooting her a quelling look when she went to say something more.

"Shower. You're freezing…"

"I'm okay." She replied, finding his gaze again, hesitant.

"Okay, well _I'm_ cold and I happen to have _the_ best shower." He responded.

"The best, huh?" She asked after a moment, giving him a grateful look along with that edge of a tease flitting in her gaze. Yeah, he was going to coax that out of her. Ease the tension in her. Ease the uncertainty.

"Yes. The _very_ best." His insistence did coax a smile out of her then, a hint of the woman he knew to be under this sad, desolate version of her where all the pain and loss of the day coalesced inside her and decimated her in a shattering mess on his doorstep. Yeah, he planned to wipe away some of that, and maybe replace it with something much better.

He linked their fingers together and led her into the en suite bathroom, casting an appraising look over her –a perfect combination of softness and taut muscle in all the right places. Despite her height, without heels she was tiny compared to him. Almost a head shorter, but he had never regarded her as fragile by any means.

The weariness that had seeped into her bones however made her seem so. Without the protection of leather or heels or anything else to guard her, the dusting of a shadow under her eyes was heavier. Deeper. It gave her a vulnerability that he rarely saw in her. It blotted out the usual unerring confidence she exuded.

His reaction to her was instantaneous of course despite their very recent activity, and he knew that there was no way he couldn't look at her and _not_ react, especially given her current attire, or –more aptly- her lack thereof.

He groaned as her eyes skimmed slowly downwards, her gaze ignited with a tired kind of heat that seared him. The way her teeth sank into her lower lip as _she_ appraised _him_ almost had him reaching out to drag her forward against him and start round two up against the bathroom sink or maybe the cool tiled wall of his shower-

His thoughts immediately turned to all the potential places where they could explore each other. But no.

He hadn't brought her in here to start a fire, although, when he thought about it, his whole plan had been to make her _warm_.

"You're staring." She said a little self-consciously, glancing up at him from below her lowered lashes and he had the distinct feeling that she did that on purpose to ensnare him. Well it worked.

"Yes, I guess I am." He confessed without hesitation, not ashamed of finding the sight before him arousing. She was gorgeous. But so much more. She was _Beckett_. He had the sudden urge to pinch himself. He drew his gaze downwards once more over her, wanting to get as much of her body seared into his brain in case-

In case _what_? In case she regretted this and left? In case she pulled away? In case her walls bricked back up on him and he found himself on the wrong side of that barrier again?

"I never thought I would have you naked in my bathroom, or any other room for that matter." He said, his voice roughened, swallowing back his own uncertainty.

He turned, twisting on the taps in the shower, lifting his eyes back to her face and doing a double take at the easy grin that flashed on her face. It was the most beautiful thing he had seen tonight.

If she kept this up, his good intentions would become casualties to the sharp tug of desire that was beginning to unfurl inside him again.

She was naked and smiling.

In his bathroom.

After just having some of the most fantastic sex he'd ever had, which was really saying something. Maybe he was just so infatuated with her that it made it better somehow, but, whatever the reason….this was what he had ached for. Not just the sex, but the companionship of someone he actually loved.

And who could love him back.

He shook himself, making sure that the water was at its best temperature before tugging her under the warm spray with him. She immediately pressed to his chest, reaching up to kiss him and although desire churned hot and fast inside him from the soft touch of her lips, he eased back and just wrapped his arms around her, trying to warm her cool flesh. She slid her arms around his waist, resting her cheek to his shoulder until the shivers eased and he smoothed her hair back from her face in a wet glide, trying to school his features so she couldn't see the decimating emotion that rose up in him. How much he loved her.

He wasn't ready to make himself that vulnerable right now. Not after the last time he had told her. He didn't have a good track record with telling Kate Beckett that he loved her.

He instead focused on the bruises he could see marring her skin and he traced each mark he could see with gentle fingertips, his thoughts sobering as he thought of all the ways things had gone so unbelievably wrong between them.

But he wouldn't push her. Wouldn't demand to know what had happened even though it ate at him not knowing how these bruises had come to be on her. They painted a pretty stark picture and his thoughts were running away with him. Whatever had happened –no matter what the circumstances had been- she had fought her way to his doorstep.

"I was on a rooftop." She said against his shoulder and he froze, his fingers skimming slowly down her spine and she leaned back. Flattening his palm at the small of her back, he focused on her face, but she wasn't looking at him, focusing at a point on his chest.

"I chased him there. Maddox." She paused for a moment, swallowing –the name hanging between them like a dark curse. _Maddox_.

"It was reckless. And stupid. So _stupid_." She shook her head at herself, brow furrowing, a story unravelling in the whites of her eyes.

Words wouldn't form on his tongue. He wasn't sure how to formulate a proper response, but she didn't wait for any, and he was glad. It meant she was giving him this freely without any real prompting from him. No scratching. No clawing. No begging.

"He took me off guard." She said with a shrug, finally meeting his gaze, the underlying facts surrounding how Maddox had 'taken her off guard' mottled on her skin for him to map. They shadowed the nonchalant way she had said it. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling that cold beat of fear throb through him.

She had fought Maddox. And she had _lost_. Those bruises told a story that her words did not.

"Kate…" He began to say, not sure what to say after that, but, before he could continue, she was looking at that spot on his chest again, her fingers clenching there for a moment, tracing a pattern at his collarbone –fingers circling, circling- nervously? He reached up and snagged her hand, stilling her.

"I ended up falling off the edge." She revealed after another stilted moment, that desperate fear flashing in her eyes, another shiver rocking her slender body and he could do nothing but crush her to his wet chest tightly, fear clogging inside him. _Fuck_. She'd _fallen off a building_!

His mind reeled with all the ways this could have ended differently. Esposito or Ryan coming to his doorstep instead of Beckett. Telling him she had fallen…_fallen_…

_Fuck_.

No words would break free from his constricted throat and he was left to hold onto her like he could press her into him while the water washed away the scent of rain and sex, of regret and fear and sorrow. It created safety in the warmth to eviscerate the icy dread now churning in his gut and sluicing through his veins.

He understood her fierce desperation now. The haunted _need_ that she had exuded as she had come through his door –apologetic and needing him. That need for connection.

He pressed her impossibly closer, trying to drive the bleak picture she had so simply painted from his head. Her words created a nightmare to his writers mind, unravelling in his thoughts.

More than once, Nikki Heat had faced down near death experiences, experiences he himself had orchestrated in the name of fiction…

But this was _Beckett_. She was real. Tangible. _Human_. Not some character he could write out of danger just as easily as he wrote her into it. He could do nothing to erase what had happened. Couldn't back space until it disappeared. All he could do was listen and grit his teeth against the overwhelming need to impress her into his very body so nothing could hurt her or take her from him.

He thought he would be used to this by now. The idea that she would be taken from him. God knew that they had been in enough situations where death had been hovering at their backs, but this time…

God, this time…

He hadn't been there.

"I'm okay…" She was whispering against him now, her body willing as he held her too tightly, her hands at his back, stroking him, softening him, her voice soothing the beating panic that throbbed in his chest.

"I'm fine." She said again, leaning back and curving her hand at his cheek, stroking his cheek bone as she assessed his features, searching his eyes.

"Beckett…"

"We're naked in your shower and you want to talk?" She teased, and he knew what she was doing. Trying to lighten the hard facts she had dropped on him. Deflect.

He wouldn't argue.

His hands slipping down to her hips, flexing his fingers there as her gaze darkened. She couldn't possibly not feel his reaction to her where they were pressed so intimately together. The deep weariness in her features worried him, but he wouldn't push her. She leaned into him, her cheek against his shoulder and he rested his cheek to her forehead.

"I don't feel so cold now." She breathed into his neck and he squeezed her slightly, neither of them moving to leave the warm embrace. And as the water slid over his shoulder, between their carefully pressed bodies, he thought that maybe her barriers were also circling down the drain –mortar and brick eroded away. All the lies and the betrayal slipping down, the water washing the slate clean.

Her warmed fingers wrapped around him, exploring him with fingertips and palm and he melted at her touch, feeling the pulling tendrils of desire twine inside him, urging him to act.

So he did, tracing his fingers down the side of her throat, slowly following the droplets of water sliding down her skin. He traced across the curve of her collar bone, just below her shoulder, working his way downwards in a deliberately slow caress that had her hand tightening around him.

The tip of his finger met the peak of her breast as he leaned back from her, circling the hardened point, watching –mesmerised- as the warm water sluiced over her tight flesh. He traced across to her other breast, finger copying that same slow circular motion over her nipple before he moved on, trailing his fingers further down between, down the centre of her abdomen to repeat that caress around her navel before he dipped his finger into the indent.

She hitched a breath, shivering and his eyes darted up to see her face, realising that he had been watching the path of his fingers –drawn into a world of his own as he had stared -_rapt_- at the journey. The hunger in her expression –so open and present- took him off guard for a moment.

"Castle." She said softly, desire alight in her eyes, her thumb working over him, jarring him with a spear of lust that pooled unsated inside him.

He backed her up on the next instant, his need dictating him now, and he pressed into her before capturing her willing mouth with his, delving his tongue between her parted lips to taste her sigh. She came up on her toes, wrapping her free arm up around his neck to hold herself up against him.

Her other hand was trapped between them, wrapped around him still as he gathered him to her, his arm banded around her waist, his other on the back of her thigh. His fingers delved between her legs from behind, slipping over her with a plying caress, her hot palm curved around him making him groan and press more fully against her stomach, her sigh exhaled into his mouth as he touched her with those same deliberate caresses –back and forth, back and forth- making her arch into him and brace one of her thighs over his hip, pulling him closer.

"_Castle_…" She murmured, more urgently now, a little breathless, into his mouth, the absolute and uncensored arousal colouring her tone soaring through him.

He hummed against her lips and broke the kiss, lifting her further against the tiles, pulling his hips back so he could move between her legs.

"My intentions were pure…" He said against her jaw, closing his mouth there in an open-mouthed kiss, sucking the water from her skin as he fitted himself between her clenched thighs. Her other arm wrapped around him, allowing him to lever her more fully into the wall as her legs came up around him, completely lifted off the floor now. She turned her head, sinking her teeth into his earlobe and sucking in a maddening way that had him circling his hips against her.

"Maybe _mine aren't_." She breathed into his ear, rolling her hips downwards. He caught himself before he unintentionally thrust up into her, pinning her instead with a restrained gaze.

"I don't want to hurt you…" He murmured. His eyes flicking down to the bruises he could see from this vantage point.

"You won't."

"The bruises…" He began but she cut him off with a searing kiss that left his mind spinning.

"God, Castle, if you don't move…._I_ might hurt _you_." She warned, that Beckett spark he knew and loved surging bright in the depths of her eyes. He couldn't deny her, pressing inside her on the next breath.

He held onto her thighs as he leaned into her, steam wafting up around them with their sharp heavy breathes. She undulated into him, driving him deeper inside her body and urging him into a rhythm, her body enveloping him as the water rained down onto them.

He was in love with the smoulder of her gaze, openly filled with her desire. Unchecked. No barriers. Just vibrant _need_ etched into her expression, eyes heavy-lidded, her lips parted on her breathes. So damn beautiful. An image that surpassed his deepest fantasies.

One he would never forget as they literally fogged up his bathroom more completely than the hot water and steam could…

He kissed her lazily afterwards for all the times he had been forced to withhold that simple need, content now to feel her lips beneath his, the soft breath she exhaled, the taste of her on him, scent of her, the slight tingling of his lips because he had spent so long with his mouth fused to hers.

He hooked a loose, drying curl back over her ear, revelling in this freedom to touch her, kiss her, his forehead resting to hers as they lay silently in each other's space. Her lower lip clung for a moment to his as she inhaled deeply and he pulled back to regard her face, the exhaustion weighing heavier in her eyes now as her lashes fluttered tiredly. Despite that exhaustion and the deep rings that acted like kohl beneath her eyes, some of the tension was gone from her muscles, a sated calm mixing with that ghost of trauma that had imbedded itself into her expression.

"Sleep." He murmured, stroking the edge of her face before he settled back and wrapped the blankets more fully around her. She sighed and laid her head down on the pillow. Despite not wanting to succumb to sleep, his own tiredness dragged him under.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Next time he awoke, it was 3am and the rain had stopped, leaving his loft in deafening silence, his bed feeling cooler, the press of her warm body absent. He reached out and found her gone and a moment of panic seized him, squeezing in his chest as he wondered whether or not she would leave as quickly as she had appeared, a remnant slipping away while he slept.

When he found her, she was sitting curled up on his lounge, gazing unseeingly towards the windows that lined the wall, legs drawn up to her chest wearing nothing but one of his shirts. She looked so vulnerable in that moment, the fall of her hair obscuring her cheek, her expression so desolate that he felt an answering throb pulse in his chest.

This was so at odds with the Beckett who commanded a crime scene, who adeptly strode through the bullpen and regarded her murder board with keen eyes and focused attention.

This –here, now- was _Kate_.

The tears he could see shimmering in her eyes, tears she fought to blink back, stabbed at his heart, the cold helplessness that washed through his veins at the open vulnerability etched so clearly on her face scaring him much more than any words ever could.

Kate Beckett was not the type to show this amount of immutable emotion for no reason. She was always careful to hide it all under that tough exterior he had learnt to admire, that shielding he had fought so valiantly to work his way underneath for the last four years. He wasn't even sure he was completely privy to what lay below those barriers yet. There was so much uncertainty between them, like some cavernous divide he couldn't quite cross. That hadn't just disappeared because she had come here, but it went a long way towards making up for the unrest that had coloured their relationship.

He had never seen something drag her in as completely as this case. How he couldn't shake that obsessive light that had flared in her eyes as she had said she was ready for a war. It had sent a shiver down his spine.

But _this_ –what had happened today- had really shaken her. The way she had come here, revealed herself so openly to him, was now sitting before him with sorrow darkened in her eyes.

There were no barriers. Just raw, unfettered pain. Regret. Guilt. Uncertainty. Inner demons fighting to overcome the calm she usually exuded. Nothing rattled her. But this _had_.

Her mother's case had dragged her down like a weight leashed around her ankles, and she had come here for one reason. She had managed to break those tethers and she was coming up for air. Letting it _go_.

She had come to _him_.

"You okay?" He asked, pausing his steps, not wanting to encroach on her silence reverie, but driven to interrupt her staring contest with the night by that uncertain voice in his head that considered all the reasons she could be out here alone and not in his bed.

Was it regret that had compelled her out of the warmth? She jolted slightly. Haunted gaze lifting to his, a self-conscious little flicker in her eyes saying so much.

"I didn't want to wake you." She said as explanation.

"Your absence woke me." He replied, moving a few steps closer, assessing her features. She unfolded her legs, smoothing the material of his shirt over her bare thighs and he took that unfurling of her body as her letting him in. Letting him be there and allowing him entrance when before she would have shaken off his concern with a small smile and an 'I'm fine'.

She gazed back towards the window, the stillness after the storm lending a vibe of calm to the moment, the tension in the air that spoke of more than electricity but of uncertainty.

"I couldn't sleep." She said, looking up at him as if for forgiveness that her absence had woken him, and he shook his head, waving his hand to say 'don't worry about it'. She turned back to her silent staring contest with space, her eyes flickering down to her hands, fingers clenching some phantom object.

"I keep…feeling this _vertigo_ every time I close my eyes. Like I'm still on that ledge." She said, folding her hands together for a moment.

"I won't let you fall." He said firmly –a promise- the calm in his voice surprising given the way his thoughts narrowed onto the look in her eyes. She looked up at him, hopeful, like she really wanted him to be there to keep her from falling. Off a building, into her mother's case, into her realm of obsession when it came to Johanna Beckett.

"I kept thinking 'not like this'…when I was hanging there. But…my fingers were cramping. And it hurt. I thought they were just going to…_break_…" She said and he froze, watching as her brow furrowed, a crinkle he wanted to smooth. Her softly spoken words whipped at him and he did go to her then, sitting on the edge of his couch to face her, regarding her as he reached out to touch her, his fingers smoothing over the back of her hand before he took it into his, his thumb rubbing at her inner wrist. Her gaze met his, and she squeezed his fingers.

"For a minute, I thought it was you pulling me back up. But it was Ryan…"

"Kate…" He began, feeling that impotent sorrow and regret surge inside him again, a knot in his chest at the way she said those words. He hadn't been there. She'd needed him but he'd walked away and now he had an image in his head of her hanging on some high-rise ledge with cramping fingers one spasm away from falling…

She turned to him, eyes misted with her unshed tears, swallowing as she met his gaze with clear eyes. He reached out then, drawing her into his arms, needing to feel her warmth pressed against him and she came to him willingly, settling into his embrace.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there." He murmured roughly, smoothing the soft waves of her hair, feeling her hand clench in the edge of his robe as she exhaled.

This whole thing was his fault. He knew that, felt the inner turmoil at her words. She had dragged herself out from under her mother's case once before, somehow stepping free from the quicksand slowly inching up her legs, but he had recklessly lumbered in, his curiosity and his _need to know_ tossing her right back into that sinking vortex. _He_ had been the one that hadn't been able to leave it alone. Hadn't seen, back then, how that case had haunted her and become like a heavy weight on her shoulders. He had been selfish, and that selfishness in the beginning was the reason why she had wandered back towards that black hole.

She had been targeted, shot, hunted…_thrown off the side of a building_-

And for what?

"I should never have pulled you back in." He said, getting his mouth to work, stumbling over the words that sat at the fore of his thoughts. He'd been such a fool. Her gaze shot to his, his words breaking her from her staring content with the rain splattered window, the look on her face making him feel like he had doused her in a sluice of cold water.

"I decided to investigate it again, Castle. There were leads…"

"Leads that almost got you killed." He responded darkly, intensely and she looked away for a moment, her eyes revealing the way her mind was ticking over.

"You were trying to help." She said softly.

"Helping would have been to let it rest." He shook his head.

"But it wasn't _at_ rest." She replied vehemently, breaking his sentence with the definitive sharpening of her words and she reached out to snag his hand, her fingers around his as their eyes locked. "It was present in my mind. Constantly. It was dragging me down without me even realising. You gave me a new angle. To try to get past it. To _solve_ it."

"Yes, and because of that new angel you got shot. You got…" He trailed off, swallowing around the tension tightening in his throat "…thrown off a building."

The words were raw when he spoke them, dragged roughly from him as he tightened his hand on hers. The words were hollowed out and filled with guilt –with fear- and her eyes were suddenly softening, her thumb working over his fingers in a dragging stroke.

"Castle, you were _right_ though. I had to….go to the edge to see what I was doing. I'd let it rule me. For a long time. Longer than I've known you. I wouldn't stop and listen. But I'm listening now. I'm here."

"For how long?" He asked, the thought tumbling from his lips before it was even fully formed in his head. He skimmed his thumb over hers, the sobering words hanging between them, his mind conjuring images of her retreat back into her shell, barricading herself once more behind those barriers that had kept him at bay for as long as he had known her.

He didn't think he could watch her walk out that door after tonight. Hoped he wouldn't have to. Instead of answering his question, she leaned back into the cushions, her hand loose in his as her thumb kept moving over the side of his thumb, the touch grounding him somehow.

"When I was hanging there…It was like I had been on that ledge this whole time. Holding on, trying to climb free, but…I couldn't. I was trying to do it on my own. No matter how you tried to help me up, I wouldn't….reach for your hand." She squeezed his hand now, so much not said in that one gesture he realised he had been holding his breath. He let it out in one slow, measured exhale, staying silent, listening to the quiet of her voice.

"I don't want to fall, Castle." She said, the tone of her voice raw with her emotion, liquid eyes meeting his.

"Maybe…" He paused. "Maybe you just…need to find your solid ground."

He wasn't sure if his suggestion was even remotely helpful, and he shrugged slightly as she focused her gaze on his.

"That's why I'm here." She said after a moment, her steady gaze saying so much more than words. He resisted the urge to suck in a surprised breath at her unwavering honesty. She was saying that _he_ was her solid ground? He was okay with that.

"Then I'm glad you came." He said, his words light –smooth- despite the heavy meaning she had laced into her words. He was more than glad she had come…because if she hadn't, he had been willing and ready –because of his aching heart- to let her go.

She smiled then, turning her palm up to his and squeezing his fingers. "Yeah. Me too."

They sat quietly for a few minutes, just being in each other's presence in the pore-dawn darkness, the stillness only disrupted by their breathing, fingers moving in constant caress. She hesitated before she broke the silence again, her eyes watching their joined hands.

"I resigned." She whispered after a moment and he pulled back, meeting her eyes with his shock.

"Why?" He asked, feeling like a part of him knew why. Because she had sunk too far, let the need for vengeance get in the way of what she was employed to do. It had never been just a badge to her though, it had been a promise. To get justice for those who couldn't get it for themselves. A way to honour her mother's fighting spirit.

"Gates suspended Esposito and me. So I quit." She shrugged, but he could see how it had affected her, to be pushed to make that decision. "Something had to give. I was…in too deep. I got lost. It wasn't about…justice anymore. Just revenge."

He didn't say anything. Couldn't think of anything that could make anything better. Or help her to come to grips with what had happened. Because he doubted anything could take away the pain of what had happened. But she wasn't the type to decide something rashly. Something had changed in her since their argument at her apartment. Something had happened, and he suspected it was something much more fundamental than her near death experience. Something had drawn her back from the proverbial ledge as well as the physical one.

"I don't know who I am without that badge, Castle." She said softly, her cheek rested to his shoulder.

"You're still you. Smart, kind, fierce." He replied, using words to describe her that he had used before. Her cop nature was only one part of her. Not the whole.

"How do you have so much faith in me? In who I am? After everything…"

"Because I know you. You are a sum of all your parts, and that badge –being a cop- is just one part. You are much more than just a badge."

"Then what do I do?" She asked, sighing, and he hesitated, before speaking, a part of him keeping himself detached in case what he said was more a nuisance than a help.

"Just be Kate for a while." He said after a moment.

Her fingers flexed, as if she was still holding onto that ledge, unable to let go.

"I almost couldn't…" she trailed off and he knew exactly what she was thinking. "I was _falling_, Castle and I couldn't…" She swallowed the words, trailing off, and he reached for her then, drawing her against him in a crushing hug, trying to press her into him, and she curved her arm around his neck, her lips pressed to his collar.

"It's okay." He murmured.

"I just want to forget for a while, okay Castle?" She said softly, the words coming on a trembling voice and he couldn't argue that. He nodded stiffly and linked their fingers.

"Okay. Okay." He said calmly. She settled down on his lap slowly, her thighs sinking down at either side of his and he was taken off guard by the openness in her expression as she looked down at him, her eyes assessing his features. This was all still so new that she had a careful look etched onto her face, seeing how far she could go, like some part of her actually thought he would push her away after everything that had happened.

He had never thought he would see such openness on her face when she looked at him, and he had the sobering thought that maybe she'd had to fall –metaphorically- for her to really see him. See _them_.

He didn't want to see that hesitance on her face, that uncertainty when it came to him, so he steadied her on his lap, cupping her face and drawing her down to slant his mouth across hers, the press of his lips eliciting a sharp expulsion of breath from her –electrifying them both with the current.

He opened his mouth to hers, tongue sliding across her bottom lip before dipping into the confines, -testing, tasting, her hesitance slipping away with each moment he fused his mouth to hers. It was instinct and need that flared up to take doubts place.

His shirt –loose on her slim form- did nothing to hide her from him, the material slipping up her taut thighs at either side of him, pressed away from her skin by his seeking hands. He enjoyed this new freedom.

He slid his hands beneath the material, up her smooth legs, over her hips in a heavy caress before he curved explorative fingers at her waist, his thumbs working over her hip bones and the hollow that arched downwards to her pelvis, the heat and softness of her skin igniting an answering heat in him.

He broke the kiss, their foreheads pressed together as he stilled, the sound of their breathing the only noise interrupting the silence within the loft. She moved, her arms around his shoulders and he buried his lips at her collar, closing his eyes for a moment to take in her presence, tightening his arms around her.

"Back to bed." He murmured after a long moment of just taking in the feel of her there on his lap, feeling the tension in her body as she kept herself deceptively still under his hands, a restlessness zinging between them. They both wanted the movement, but, he liked the feel of her there, settled in his lap, her warmth wrapped around him.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

They lay in the darkness, skin warmed from the way they were so close, body heat, chasing away the chill in the air from the earlier downpour, silent now. Calm when before it had been volatile. He had her surrounded here. _Safe_. The warmth of his body cocooned in blankets, her side pressed to his chest, his finger tracing patterns across her skin, signing his name in invisible ink.

His other arm was beneath her neck, the soft strands of her now dried hair fanning out across his pillow in a wild tangle, teasing his hand and he leaned his forehead to her temple, watching her eyes flutter closed.

He didn't dare break the silence of the moment although a million thoughts were tripping clumsily in his head, words slung together that went unspoken. He found that he liked the silence with her. Liked the way that there was more meaning here. In the way she reached up and linked her fingers with his, her head turning slightly towards him, a sigh breaking from her lips.

The way that she was so willingly pressing herself to him, trustingly, his shirt gone, her skin bare, the length of her body running along the length of his.

The way that her scent permeated his head, intoxicating him, because this was more than he had ever had. Closer. Deeper. _Profound_.

He wanted to keep this moment with her.

She curled into him, her body curved to his, her eyes slipping back open to regard him, her gaze flickering from his eyes to his lips and back up, a slow lift of her lashes driving a sharp stab of arousal through his body.

He couldn't see her eyes in the dimness, but he could see the multifaceted hue of them in his mind, see the way sunlight could cool those depths, or the sharp intelligence that flashed there, the way they could heat with passion, darken with her focus and turn glacial with her distain. Her eyes had been the first thing that had snagged him the first time he had sat across an interrogation table from her. That fascination had run deeper the longer he had been with her, but those eyes…

The blanket slipped free from her shoulder as he traced his pattern there and she shifted. Her softly spoken words from earlier clung to his mind, sending a sliver of protectiveness surging inside him. He would do anything to keep her safe. From herself. From those out to kill her.

His eyes slipped across her bare collar bone, his fingers tracing downward now to the newly revealed flesh, slipping the blanket down further as he trailed his fingers down her arm curved over her waist to lift her wrist to his mouth, tasting her skin. Soothing. Feeling her heart beat against his lips.

Her earlier words haunted him now, the deep rings under her eyes urging him to let her sleep if she could, to curl into his body and rest, but those words…

_I was falling, Castle_.

They had given him his own vertigo, a swooping sensation in his stomach that she had almost died _again_ and he'd been unable to do anything about it. He hadn't even _been there_ for her this time. He'd left her. He just hadn't been able to watch the suicide in her eyes as she had chased down her demons.

Now, he tightened his hold on her wrist, rolling with her so she was tucked safely beneath him, her legs parting to frame his hips, fitting him there as he pressed her hand up beside her head as he kissed her, his fingers lacing with hers –letting her clutch his hand now and not some distant ledge.

He pressed himself between her thighs, rocking his hips minimally against hers, and her free hand slipped down his back, scraping, kneading, her palm a flat drag over his bare skin, searing a path in its wake.

Her own hips rolled up into his, pelvis tilting for his next movement.

He broke the kiss, his hand smoothing the hair back from her face, thumb brushing her temple as he gazed down into those passion-drenched eyes, her tongue flicking out over her bottom lip, as if tasting him there as she exhaled, her breath matching his inhale so they breathed as if part of the same entity.

He pressed his hips into her, finding her, slowly sliding into her, their eyes remaining locked as he surged deeply, her legs tightening around him at the depth of his penetration. Her next exhalation stuttered across his damp mouth, a hum vibrating from her throat and she did clutch his fingers, holding onto him as if she feared that _he_ would let _her _go. He wouldn't let her go. He wouldn't let her fall.

This was deeper somehow, like this, the passion igniting as he began to move, the wet glide of him chasing away the friction, her hips arching upwards on each of his inward thrusts, driving him deeper, a maddening build of pleasure coiling with each slow, deep surge.

His muscles flexed –backs, legs, arms- hers doing the same, her abdomen clenching beneath his, legs tightening to keep him inside, the tight clutch of her thighs easing each time he thrust deeply. Her lips parted, breathes gradually becoming more hectic. Need and unsated desire swirled in those eyes he couldn't look away from.

He was ensnared. Unable to stop the steady rhythm he'd set, his fingers toying with the hair near her temple, revelling in her presence beneath him.

_Safe_.

Her scent permeated the air, surrounding him just as fully as her arms and legs embraced him, driving him onward with tightening thighs and clenching fingers, flexing muscles and soft, needful exhales across his cheek that almost stuttered into moans when he hit the right spot-

That spot that made her shudder, her eyes fluttering as if to close but she seemed to be unable to break the eye-contact he'd initiated. He broke it, his throat tight with emotion as her words from earlier echoed in his head once more. Of almost dying, and falling and just wanting him, his head dropping to the groove between her shoulder and neck, eyes tightly closed as he worked his arm under her to grip her opposite shoulder, gaining leverage for every sharp movement of his hips, his mouth pressed to her pulse point in her throat, feeling her heart beat for him under the press of his lips. Alive. _Protected_. Safe here in his arms and in his bed.

She moaned then, the sound at his ear as she held onto him, fingers skimming down his spine to his lower back, the muscles there flexing under her fingers, her grip tight on his other hand as he thrust into her –over and over.

_I love you_ echoed in his thoughts, but he didn't dare voice the sentiment although he felt the words teetering on the very tip of his tongue. Not here. Not now. For once, the use of those words held no appeal, just the undeniable need voiced in their movements, the brush of skin, breathes raw, warmth cocooning them within his blankets, the sound of the sheets hushed in the darkness.

Safety. Warmth. Pleasure spiralling, increasing with every measured thrust of his hips, building, building, her inaudible whispers against his ear and the tilt of her hips as she shuddered below him telling of her oncoming climax, rising like a crescendo until it broke, her whole body bowing and shivering as her thighs jerked up on his sides, clamping there as her head fell back, muscles quirking around him- inside and out.

Her heartbeat echoed in his head through his lips, almost like he could _taste_ her life force there at her throat.

He couldn't stop, his movement threaded now with each tight pull of her, the pleasure rolling through him as she breathed her released brokenly across his cheek, the soft, keening whimper urging him to finish, unable to quell the compulsion of his need, repressed as it had been for so long when it came to her.

One night like this would never be enough to disentangle her from his blood. From his heart.

He wanted this to continue until neither of them could move from the ache of the friction, but he could already feel the tendrils of his release wrap around him, squeezing inside him, urging him towards completion. Her body's pull and the fact that this was Beckett –_his_ Beckett- now shuddering and whispering beneath him disallowed him from prolonging the moment.

Her thighs cradled him, hips tilted so easily to him, giving him access and so sweetly enveloping him. Soft flesh cushioning him so perfectly. He could no more prolong this than he could remain chaste with her naked beneath him.

His release coiled inside him, tighter and tighter, building as the tempo to his rhythm faltered before speeding up, hips rocking harder against her until it all spiralled downwards, jerking through him.

He could do nothing but slump at her side afterwards, trying not to crush her as he regulated his breathing but wanting to keep her close, pressing against her back as he hugged her to him, his lips grazing her shoulder as they settled back down to sleep. Her fingers clenched at his forearm, their legs entwined, enveloped by the darkness and the pull of slumber. Maybe they could both sleep now.

Her breathes were coming slower now, body sinking into him and the mattress, and he kept his eyes open, waiting for her to sleep before he would give into the same. He wouldn't let her fall.

EPILOGUE

She awakened slowly as sunlight drifted across his bedroom, the feel of him beside her a warm presence that immediately calmed her, the memories of the night before tumbling over in her head of confessions and desire and unrivalled, volatile pleasure. She felt his palm –warm and solid- pressed at her stomach, as if he had pressed his hand there to stroke her skin but had fallen asleep in the process of that touch.

She turned her head –eyes half cracked in the light of day- regarding him as he slept beside her, laying on his side facing her, his face free of worry or tension as he breathed in sleep. She watched him, unable to look away from the almost innocent face. There was no sharp intelligence or darkened intensity there, no tension or wit, just…him. Bare. Beside her.

She reached down, her hand smoothing across his, feeling the length of his fingers, rubbing her thumb over his, before she slowly, carefully removed his hand and settled it between them, turning to face him. The light caught in his hair, lightening the strands and she ached to lean forward and kiss him, but, she needed a moment to collect herself and her thoughts. Not about him. She could never regret what had happened. She had ached for it. Wanted him. It had been a powerful force that had brought her to his doorstep and she wasn't planning to leave.

But…

She wasn't sure what a morning after with Castle would entail and her nerves –despite the complexities and conversations and sex of the night before- were tripping though her now.

His words from the day before at her apartment shrouded her thoughts now, how much pain had been in those luminous blue eyes she had come to love. She had hurt him badly, and she couldn't think of how to make that better.

_Every morning I bring you a cup of coffee just to see a smile on your face_.

She slipped from beneath the blankets, pausing as he shifted in his sleep, his brow furrowing as if he could sense her pulling away and she bit into her bottom lip, resisting just barely the compulsion that stuttered through her to press herself to his chest and never leave the warmth of his arms until the sun sank back below the horizon.

There was something she had to do first.

She paused, watching him for a moment, but he settled back into sleep and she managed to slip out of the bed and snag the white shirt she had stolen the night before, slipping it on and doing up the buttons.

Purposefully, she moved from his bedroom into the rest of the loft, intent on the kitchen, starting the coffee machine as she finished buttoning the shirt that smelled like him. While she waited for the coffee machine to start up, she lifted the cuff to her nose, taking in the moment.

Standing in the kitchen of his loft, the silence around her somehow soothing her mind. This was Castle's place. His kitchen she was now making herself at home in, and she could feel that contentment billow in her chest that seemed to chase away her nerves.

A part of her felt the need to go find her phone, wondering if a call about a murder had come in while she had been otherwise involved, but…

She had resigned.

There would be no call. Unless if it was from one of the boys or from Lanie to check up on her like any good friends would.

She felt unmoored, the only thing keeping her steady the counter under her fingertips, being surrounded by his things. His place. His smell. His shirt warming her body.

She busied herself getting mugs down from the cabinet, as quietly as possible, hoping that he stayed asleep long enough for her to make him a coffee. She knew logically that a coffee couldn't possibly mend all the burnt paths between them, or make up for the way she had been hurting him for so long. But it was a start, right?

An apology.

She did, after all, owe him about a hundred coffees. He had said so himself once.

That thought sobered her, and she froze for a moment to realise the significance of this whole situation. Everything they had been through, all the uncertainty and hurt and the regret. All the years of near-misses and looks passing between them…

This was _Castle_. She was _here_. She was ready.

And she didn't feel as panicked as she had always thought she would feel after sleeping with him. All night.

As she made the coffees, she noted all the tightness in her body, not just from the fight with Maddox that had left her bruised and battered, but from the night's activities, the soreness in her muscles speaking of something more elemental than some brawl.

She hadn't even known she was in possession of so many different muscle groups. They all ached at once.

She steeled herself, feeling more grounded in the moment as the waft of coffee filled the air and she breathed it in, the life she had, the second chance she'd been given.

They could work out the rest later. She turned, took a breath, and walked back towards his bedroom, ready to face this new thing they had delved into, two cups of coffee in hand.

For once, she wasn't afraid of what came next.

.fin.


End file.
