PLEASE NOTE: This chapter is rated M. Don't read if that's not your thing.

"You know," he says when they part for air, "there's something else I can do to thank you properly."

Kate blinks several times in an effort to clear the fog of arousal from her mind. "What are you talking about?" she finally asks when she can't think of anything. It sounds like he's continuing a conversation, obviously one he'd had with her, but all she can think about is his kiss.

Rick just smirks, as if he knows exactly why she's distracted. "For saving my life."

"Ah, of course. What is it?"

Rick steps away from her, but instead of leaving entirely, he takes her hand and leads her in the direction of his bedroom. "I'll show you."

She hardly has a chance to take in his room before he's pulling her into his arms, his mouth descending onto hers. She sighs as his hands cup her jaw, a thumb brushing the corner of her mouth as they kiss, his tongue insistent against hers. She loops her arms around his neck, pulling herself flush against his body, and he moans, drops his hands to her hips.

"Castle," she gasps when he breaks his mouth from hers and trails it along her cheek. Her fingers thread through his hair and guide him down her neck.

Her hips jerk into his when his teeth scrape along the shell of her ear, and she feels his mouth break into a smile against his skin.

"You like that?" he mumbles, his chin nudging her t-shirt - well, a borrowed one of his - aside, nipping her clavicle. One hand slides under the shirt to trail along her thigh, light, teasing, fluttering against the line of her underwear. He cups her ass and tugs her into him, and she grunts, hips jerking again at the sudden movement.

Her hands grip the bottom of his shirt, but before she can draw it up his torso he's nudging her backwards until her legs hit the bed. She drops to the mattress, her eyes locked on his, and she slides her hands beneath his shirt, nails lightly scraping down his stomach. He flinches when she dips her fingers under the waistband of his pajama pants, but she just snaps the band.

"Not yet," she teases when his eyes flutter shut.

His eyes are impossibly dark when he meets her gaze again, his normally bright blue irises almost midnight with what can only be arousal. He grabs her wrist when she brushes against him through his pants, and he leans down, his face just inches from hers. "I'm supposed to be seducing you," he almost growls, then he lets go of her wrist only to tug her shirt off.

His gaze drops to her chest and she hears him gasp. But it's not a bad gasp, instead more of an exhale, and she resists the temptation to cover the scar between her breasts. Instead he covers it with his own fingers, tracing over the raised skin, his eyes following their path as he kneels in front of her.

He glances at her, his eyes seeking permission, and she nods. His mouth replaces his fingers on the scar, so light she barely feels it. It still tugs sometimes, and she doesn't quite have full range of motion. But she's learning to accept it, slowly, with help from both of her therapists.

She tenses when his hand drifts to her side and touches the long scar there, the one that had ultimately saved her life. It's longer, uglier, and he lifts his head from her chest, shifts to look at it.

"Kate…" He whispers her name, voice trailing at the end, and it makes her nervous.

She can't read him. Can't tell what he's thinking, and that scares her. Despite her ongoing progress in therapy, she still hates her scars, the blemishes on her skin. They're an ugly reminder of a terrible thing that happened to her, yet another thing that reminds her of her mother's murder.

"I know," she finally says when she can't stand the silence anymore. "It's so ugly. I wish you didn't have to see it."

"No." Castle shakes his head and lifts his gaze to hers. "It's the reason you're alive, Kate. It's the reason you're here." He cups her jaw, thumbs brushing along her cheekbones, and presses a gentle kiss to her mouth. "It's beautiful. You're beautiful."

His name comes out on a sigh, and she lunges into him, her mouth crashing against his, her fingers gripping his waistband. "Rick," she repeats more forcefully, "please."

He nudges her to her back, and he follows hovers over her, their mouths not separating as he settles over her body. She can feel him against her, even through his pants, and she lifts her hips, desperate for friction, for something to ease the pressure between her legs.

Her hands drift to his ass, and he rolls his hips, jerks when she squeezes him. "wait," he gasps, tearing his mouth from hers. His forehead drops to hers when she squeezes again, and he takes a deep breath, dusts a kiss to her mouth. "Soon," he whispers when her hands slide up under his shirt. His mouth drifts along her cheek to her jaw, and he nips at her earlobe. "I want to taste you first."

She whimpers at his words, and she lists into him, back arching when he draws a nipple into his mouth. He scrapes his teeth against the sensitive nub, and she gasps, tugs the short strands of his hair. His hand cups her other breast, lightly kneading, thumb and forefinger rolling, pinching her nipple. His lips dust against her scar before he's drifting again, this time down her torso, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses along her skin.

He nips at the skin above the line of her underwear, but when she doesn't feel another touch of his mouth she manages to open her eyes and look at him. He's kneeling over her, face above her pelvis, and when he meets her gaze he smiles, hooks his thumbs into her waistband and tugs her panties off.

Her hips lift when he slides his hands up her legs, his palms smooth, soft. Her legs part almost of their own accord, but before he settles between them he dips his head, presses his lips to the inside of one knee, then the other. His mouth travels up her thigh, but he bypasses her center, instead moves to her other leg.

He moans when his tongue darts out to her skin, to the juncture of her thighs, where she's sure he can taste her arousal. But he doesn't continue, much to her frustration, so her own hand drifts down her torso, over her stomach, to dip between her own legs. She hears his breath catch when she slides her middle finger through her arousal, drawing the moisture out, circling her clit. Her hips lift into her touch, the familiar rhythm bringing her closer to the edge.

Before she can fall he bats her hand aside, replaces her fingers with the touch of his tongue. She arches off the bed when his tongue flicks against her clit, and she gasps his name, shudders with a small orgasm. When the stars fade from her vision she realizes he's still between her legs, his tongue making long, lazy strokes along her folds. She runs her fingers through his hair and smiles when he lifts his gaze to hers.

"That was-"

"Just the beginning," he interrupts before dipping his head to her again.

She looks, and tastes, amazing.

Ignoring his straining erection, he grips her thighs, parting them, and when her hips lift at the slide of his finger through her folds, he smiles and presses her to the mattress. "Hold still," he instructs, teasing, dusting a kiss to her thigh.

The dig of her fingers into his scalp, and the muttered curse, provides the only response he needs.

He smiles, then turns his attention back to her center, slides a finger inside her, lightly pumping. She whimpers his name, one leg draping over his shoulder, and he settles between her thighs, brings his mouth to her. He quickens the stroke of his hand and tongue as she clenches around him, and he shifts his hand, his thumb joining his tongue at her clit as a second finger enters her.

It doesn't take long before her hips jerk under his palm and her muscles spasm around him, her arousal coating his hand as she comes again with a gasp. He carries her through the climax, doesn't stop his strokes until she stills and pushes his head away.

She looks positively sated, a lazy smile on her face when he stretches beside her. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but she shakes her head and curls her hand around the back of his neck, pulls him down to kiss her.

She deepens the kiss immediately, her tongue curling against his, hands drifting down to tug at the hem of his shirt. "Off," she grunts, and he grins, sits up long enough to pull it over his head. She tugs at his waistband as he does, pulling his pants over his hips.

He stands when she stills, and he follows the path of her gaze as he takes is pants off, kicks them to the side. Her eyes are locked on his erection, but when he joins her on the bed once again her gaze lifts to his. He cradles her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek, props himself on his elbow.

"I love you," he says in a near-whisper, cradling his hips between hers, almost groaning when his erection brushes against her core. When she grips him and strokes he shifts to reach towards his nightstand. He rolls a condom on with ease and settles back between her legs, dropping his forehead to hers when his tip nudges against her.

"You're sure?" he asks, meeting her gaze. If she says no it might kill him. But, despite the night so far, their declarations of love and him making her gasp his name in pleasure, he wants her to be sure of this step in their relationship.

Kate smiles, reaches up to caress his cheek. "I'm sure, Rick," she whispers. She lifts up to him, their mouths colliding, both of them moaning when he sinks into her.

-FIN-

A/N: Thanks for reading! Any mistakes are mine.