"Come on Castle, I need this."
castle/beckett - nc-17
a/n: Takes place some time in early season 5, no spoilers. FOR CAITLIN FOR HER BIRTHDAY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY BB!!
"Come on Castle, I need this," Beckett groans, shoving at his shoulder and pressing on the back of his head as he kisses a leisurely path across her jaw, too slow and too soft.
He doesn’t hurry though, his gentle mouth ghosting until he’s at her ear and she’s squirming in his lap.
"Do you always need this after work?"
It’s the first time she’s really come through his door and climbed onto him with no pretense, but the mumbled sound of his voice against her seems more coaxing than anything else. She’s pliable when she’s like this, needy, and he knows it, so she pauses, pulling back enough to narrow her eyes at him. "What exactly are you asking me?"
The twinkle in his eye gives him away.
"Before," he leans in to pull a shallow kiss from her lips. "Last year." The when you weren't with anyone echoing loudly in the room.
The question he's asking her washes over her skin in pinpricks, turning her cheeks pink, but if he thinks she won’t tell him, he’s wrong.
She leans into him tighter, knees gripping harder at his hips, lets her nose brush his as she locks eyes with him, breathing into his mouth. "Sometimes when I couldn't stand it, I would slide into the bath - "
"- with one of my books?"
She can't help the roll of her eyes or the slight quirk in her lip at his interjection.
She'll play into his fantasy for him though, let him have this one.
His breath hitches at her admission.
"I would light a few candles, pour a glass of wine, slide my hand..." she stops talking on her own gasp, her palm pressing down the zipper of her own jeans, her mouth open wide against his
Castle swears, eyes downcast under his lashes, staring at her rocking against her own palm and then immediately reaches out to press his own against the backs of her knuckles, cupping her too. Beckett rises up onto her knees at the sharp jolt of arousal that slams through her, but then he moves his hands, sliding them around the backs of her thighs with a grace she didn’t think he possessed, and she’s left staring up at the ceiling, her back pressed into the couch cushions.
When she picks her head up, she finds his eyes watching her hotly, gone the easy restraint, the slow burn. He wants this as much as she does now.
“What are you doing?” Her voice is measured, but a heady thread of want makes it deep and dark.
Instead of answering her outright, Castle lets one of his open palms slide up the length of her thigh, thumb just brushing the sensitive inside along the inseam of her dark jeans, but then skirts it around anywhere truly sensitive, thumbing the button of her jeans before he slides it up and under her shirt, hot and present against her stomach.
She sucks in a sharp breath at the heavy contact, closing her eyes against the feel of his fingers tracing patterns on her naked skin. “Castle,” she all but begs, still desperate for relief, a release from her long and frustrating day. He takes pity on her finally, sliding his hand back downward, popping the button free of its clasp, dragging down her zipper with a raspy exhale, and then with one lift of her hips, her legs are bare, freed at last.
Any sense of shyness with him between her legs has long dissipated, and so she lets her thighs fall open in invitation, hips canting toward his face. She knows what she wants, and she wants it now.
“So eager,” he breathes against her underwear as he presses his nose to the soft skin below her belly button, making her gasp, but that’s all he says as he finally, finally removes the last barrier between them and puts his mouth where she’s hot and ready for him.
The edge of the couch strains under her grip as she throws an arm up over her head to anchor herself against the tide of Castle’s tongue, relentless and firm between her legs, over and over again until she’s tensing, rising up to meet his every move. It’s too much though, the way she’s moving against him, and she thinks it might have been a mistake to let him do this. He’s beyond talented with his tongue, but it’s too hard for her to keep still, the rhythm of her hips wanting up and out, rebelling against the palm he’s pressing against her midsection.
“Relax,” he hums against her, not making things any easier, but she knows if she lets it go, gives over to him completely, she’ll snap in half and she wants it, she wants it so badly, but it’s so hard for her to be so passive, to let him do all the work, to just give over.
Her teeth grind as her stomach clenches, thighs trembling, hips rolling, but then his palm is sliding soothingly downward until the brush of his thumb replaces his tongue and he’s staring at her with eyes so blue they could be made of the ocean.
He kisses the inside of her thigh softly then, and she can feel herself all over his mouth, a sticky, wet kiss born of the both of them. He’s asking her to let him do this for her, she knows, as he presses another kiss higher up, in the crook of her hip, thumb still softly circling against her.
Sliding her eyes shut, she wills herself to him, lets her thighs relax, her stomach loosen, her head nod up and down as she bites her lip. Go Castle, go. He presses another lightening fast kiss into the crook of her leg and then his thumb and his tongue are working together, wet and warm and tight with friction as his other hand moves down too, curving into her as she holds her breath, letting go of everything but the feel of him on her, working just for her and it’s completely overwhelming but just what she needs as a wildfire of sensation overtakes her, a different kind of release than she gets when she’s tense and grinding, it’s almost lazy, unstoppable in its complete destruction. He catches her with his mouth as her back bends in a perfect arc, a deep string of yes’s spilling from her lips and then she’s collapsing into the couch cushions and the soft feeling of Castle, her Castle, whispering things into her belly button.
A smile spreads wide across her face, satisfied and affectionate as her hands card through the back of his hair, tugging him up to her until he’s laid out along her body, looking proud of himself, but also of her which is dumb but it kind of makes her choke up a little bit so she pulls his face into hers before he notices, kissing him slowly, pressing her body up into his just for the contact.
“Better?” he mumbles against her lips.
“You know…” he trails off as his mouth wraps around her clavicle, nosing into the crook of her neck. “I did a lot of work today too, really hard work.”
“Oh did you?” her grin inflates her voice, making him smile against her throat.
“Do you write best sellers with those puns Mr. Castle?” Her voice is false and breathy and he bites her lightly for her tone.
“Ow,” but his tongue is soothing it just as quickly, and she’s turning them so he’s pressed into the back of the couch, wedged between the cushions and her body. Her neck stings a little bit but not unpleasantly as she flicks open the button on his jeans, raising one eyebrow.
“Just relax, Castle.”