Author's Note: A (smutty) insert between Chapters 23 and 24 of my fic, "Accidentally in Love," but it should be able to stand alone. Fair warning, if anyone is looking for a plot, you won't find it here.

Accidentally in Love

An Interlude

Castle's bedroom was through his office, not upstairs. On a different floor from sleeping Alexis, which might end up being lucky to avoid traumatizing the poor girl, Kate peripherally noted in the small corner of her mind that was still functioning properly. Not that she was normally very loud but, if the way he kissed was any indication, she had a feeling Castle could bring it out in her.

She felt a shiver of mingled anticipation and arousal ripple through her.

And then she was in Castle's bedroom but before she had so much as a moment to look around, Castle turned back to her and cupped her face in his hands to kiss her, hard and deep and somehow gentle as well, and she sagged into him, feeling fresh spirals of arousal winding up her body, her skin buzzing, her whole body tight with how much she wanted him.

It was ridiculously fast but it had been a while and the attraction between them was burning as brightly as a forest fire and she had a dizzy certainty that this was going to be good…

He broke off the kiss on a gasp. "Kate," he panted against her skin, "I'm really glad you're here."

Such simple words to affect her so much but they did, warmth coiling in her chest and pooling low in her stomach.

"Yeah?" she smiled against his skin and pressed her lower body against his, the growing hardness in his pants. "Show me."

He huffed something that might have been a laugh against her neck and took her at her word, trailing his lips along the line of her jaw and down her neck, sucking on her pulse point, as he gently nudged her backwards until the back of her knees hit his bed and she was falling back onto it. Kate pulled him down with her and he toppled somewhat ungracefully, landing half on top of her, his weight enough to push the breath from her lungs but she didn't even care because she could feel him against her, hard and heavy even through the layers of their clothes, and oh yeah… Her mouth went dry with anticipation, her mind leaping ahead to what he would feel like over her, inside her, filling her.

"Kate, you okay?"

Damn the chivalrous man, drawing back and lifting his weight off of her, putting distance between them.

"I'm fine." Or she would be fine, once they were both naked. "I'll tell you if I'm not," she promised briefly, taking advantage of the space between them to tug his shirt up, baring his flat stomach and chest to her eager gaze. Mm, very nice…

His arms were preventing her from tugging his shirt all the way off so she momentarily gave up and levered herself up to press her lips to his chest. She felt his reaction quiver through him and smirked against his skin as she let her lips trace the muscles of his pectorals, her tongue flicking out against the flat, male nipples, while her hands made their own journey of exploration, sliding over the smooth, heated skin.

He groaned and then as if she'd pushed him past some breaking point, he went into action, impatiently tugging his shirt up and over his shoulders, flinging it aside, and then managing to make quick work of the buttons of her shirt, revealing her utterly utilitarian black bra.

Oh, she hadn't even thought of that, wasn't exactly dressed for seduction. But it didn't seem to matter to Castle in the slightest, judging from the heated look in his eyes, now almost midnight blue.

And then his eyes caught and held on something, his expression abruptly freezing, changing. She looked down—oh. Her mother's ring. It had—amazingly—slipped her mind but Castle clearly remembered its significance.

She lifted the chain up and over her head and he reached out with a hand to help her lay it on the nightstand beside the bed, making sure the ring was placed on it as gently as if a breath could shatter it. Her heart stuttered a little. She'd never let anyone else handle the ring—but then again, none of the other guys she'd been with had known of its significance either.

She turned back to him, sliding one hand behind his neck to bring his lips to hers, and he kissed her softly this time, tenderness rather than passion in his kiss.

And then he drew back again to look at her, lust again creeping its way across his face as he gazed.

"Kate," he breathed, "you're gorgeous."

He suited action to the words by cupping her breast with his hand, shaping, squeezing it and sending sensation shooting through her nerve endings even through the fabric of her bra, as he started using his mouth too. He kissed his way down her chest, nipping lightly at her collar bone, and then traced the line of her bra with his lips and his tongue. She arched up towards him, the wet heat of his mouth on her skin igniting sparks of drugging pleasure, and she was vaguely surprised when she felt the clasp on her bra come undone and then he helped her slide the straps from her arms, discarding her bra carelessly on the floor. He undid the fastenings of her slacks and she impatiently pushed them down, off her hips, and took her underwear with them, and he completed the task of undressing her, sliding her pants and her underwear the rest of the way off her legs.

That done, he wasted no time returning to his ministrations to her breasts, cupping her in his hands and closing his mouth around one peaked nipple, drawing a sharp gasp from her. He swirled his tongue around the hardened tip, suckled, and then—oh oh god, Castle—grazed it with his teeth, as she tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him in place and trying to tug him closer.

She writhed, her hips rolling up, seeking the hard press of his body against hers, friction and pressure where she wanted him, and he shifted just enough to hold her in place. She vaguely heard a little whine of frustration and belatedly realized it came from her as his mouth released her nipple, drifting from her chest and down to her stomach. She tugged at his hair in an attempt to make him return to doing those amazing things to her breasts but he resisted and she huffed in frustration as he nipped and nuzzled a leisurely—maddening—path down her ribcage.

She rocked her hips into him and tried, again, to direct his head back up but he ignored that tug just as he had the last one. Damn it, Castle… She wanted him to keep working his magic on her breasts. She could have come just from the hot tug of his mouth on her nipple, the graze of his teeth.

"Ssh, Kate, let me," he murmured against her skin, stringing slow kisses across her stomach, darting his tongue into her navel and then moved on further.

Her head fell back onto the pillow, a little growl of frustration getting caught in her throat. She'd never found that having guys go down on her did much for her but if he wanted to, why not. "Oh fine, just get it over with," she huffed.

That made him lift his head entirely. "Get it over with," he repeated. "Kate, haven't you—"

"Of course I have," she cut him off, stupidly feeling her cheeks heat. She wasn't that inexperienced.

He lowered his lips to her skin again. "Oh Kate," his voice slid a couple notes lower into dark, velvety confidence, a tone that sank into her ears, feathered across her nerve endings, and—she hadn't known just a voice could do that to her—sent moisture pooling between her thighs, "you have no idea."

But even then, he took his time. Oh god, did he take his time. His lips drifted over to the curve of her hip, pausing to trace her tattoo with his tongue. "You have a tattoo; you are so hot," he murmured.

He startled her a little by licking the crease of her thigh, making her thighs tense and then fall open, but he went on, his hands caressing, smoothing over her thighs, but always avoiding the center of her where she expected him. He moved on, skimming his lips low across her abdomen, and kissed and licked the crease of her other thigh. She shuddered involuntarily at the sensation, her over-sensitized skin burning.

And then finally, he put his mouth on her. Oh god. The shock of sensation of the first touch of his tongue to her center went through her like a livewire, her hips jolting sharply off the bed only to be effectively pinned down by his arm.

Her head fell back, her mouth opening on a cry that was mostly silent from lack of breath to make a sound, as she panted and gasped and burned. His hands and his shoulders held her open, anchored her to the world as everything else fell away, leaving nothing but him and the devastating touch of his lips and—and oh god what was he doing with his tongue and was that his teeth?—and oh oh oh god Castle…

She was gasping, almost sobbing, for breath, her vision blurry, her hips writhing helplessly as she tried to get away from the sensory overload or get closer to the mind-blowing, amazing things he was doing to her—she didn't know which—and then she felt him slide one finger into her and her entire body jerked and spasmed. The combination of his finger inside her, his hot tongue against her, made the spiraling tension inside her snap and she shattered, emitting a strangled cry in which his name was barely discernible.

She collapsed onto the bed, small aftershocks of pleasure rippling through her. He led her down from the high gently, dropping small, oddly soothing closed-mouth kisses back up along her body until he reached her mouth again.

Her lips parted for his kiss and she could taste herself on his tongue and it somehow made fresh heat build inside her, pool low in her stomach, as she arched against him and belatedly realized as her naked skin came into contact with fabric, that he was somehow still wearing his jeans.

That wasn't good. She fumbled a little as she undid the fastening of his pants and pushed them down, before cupping him through the silky fabric of his boxers, drawing a groan from him. Oh lord. A shiver of anticipation raced through her as she palmed him, explored the hot, hard length of him, first through his boxers and then slipped her hand into the waistband to caress him skin to skin.

He gasped and shuddered, his hips jerking, before he grasped her wrist, tugging her hand away, and hastily finished the task of undressing until he was completely, wonderfully, naked.

Oh god, yes…

She reached for him, pulling him against her, desperate for the skin to skin contact of his naked body against hers, gasping as she felt the length of him nudging against her, almost but not quite where she needed him to be. She slid her hands around to grip his butt, trying to get him the rest of the way, but he resisted—again.

"Wait," he gasped, "we need—condom."

Oh. She stilled, the word startling her, breaking through her haze of arousal a little as she realized how close she'd gotten to forgetting about protection entirely. She might be on the pill but she didn't trust easily and had never so much as considered not using a condom. And had never lost so much control of herself that she almost forgot about it either and she felt color creeping into her cheeks. "Right. Do you—"

He shifted and rolled away from her, reaching into his nightstand. He opened the package and rolled the rubber on with a practiced ease that had the awareness of his reputation trying to nudge its way into her mind, but then it was forgotten as he rolled back, leaning in to kiss her. His tongue slicked past the seam of her lips and she felt her entire body respond, the fire building back up as one of his hands cupped her breast, tweaked her nipple with his fingers. God, she didn't know how he did it, how the simplest caress made everything in her surge with sheer want.

She pushed on his shoulders and it was her turn to roll as she flipped them over, shifting to straddle his lap. A faint smirk crossed her lips as she saw his eyes widen but then her mind went fuzzy as she sank down onto him slowly until he filled her completely. Oohhh… Her eyes fluttered closed, her lips parting on a breathy sigh, as she adjusted to the feel of him filling her, stretching her, because he was… definitely not small and it had been a while for her and… He rocked his hips a little, deliberately or not, she wasn't sure, but a little moan escaped her at the ripple of pleasure that radiated outwards because oh god, he felt amazing…

Her hands fell to grip his shoulders as his own hands moved to her hips and then she was rolling her hips as he began to thrust up into her. Slowly at first but then with increasing speed and urgency as their bodies found a rhythm, everything inside her coiling, building, as she neared the precipice with startling speed.

"Oh. Oh god, Castle," she gasped, feeling her body start to tighten.

"Kate," he gritted out and then as she gasped for breath, he rolled them over again, the change in angle allowing him to push inside her her yet more deeply and giving him more control as he thrust once, twice—and the tension snapped, starbursts exploding behind her eyelids as coruscating pleasure seared her every nerve ending. She was only vaguely aware of his hoarse cry as he stiffened and jerked, exploding inside her barely a moment later.

He collapsed on top of her and she welcomed the weight of him, the intimacy of it, even as she felt rather as if she were dissolving into the mattress. He only lay on top of her for a moment though, pushing himself to roll onto his back with a movement like a felled oak. It was another few minutes before he stirred, leaning over to brush his lips against her cheek, and then he stood, going into what she hazily guessed was an en suite bathroom.

Kate didn't even try to move as she waited for her bones to seemingly knit back into place, her heart rate to return to normal. Oh lord. She'd had good sex—even great sex—before, or at least, she'd thought she had, but she might have to adjust her standards for what great sex was like because this, with Castle… She'd never known anything like it, was used to having to work towards her own pleasure, but this had been different, more, on every level. The way he'd touched her, kissed her, the feel of his hands and his mouth and his tongue—oh his tongue… Sensory memory rippled through her, not quite arousing—not yet, she was a little too sated for that—but it planted a seed of anticipation for more. And she'd thought she'd been attracted to Castle before…

Some more coherence drifted back into her mind and she shifted, rearranging her head onto the pillow as she took stock of his bedroom that she hadn't had the brain power to look at earlier. His bedroom was… nice, oddly surprising and yet not surprising at all. It fit with the rest of the loft, luxurious but understated, more overtly masculine than the rest of the loft with its earthy tones, but still comfortable, homey. Not at all some sort of slick bachelor pad, what she might have expected from Richard Castle, the celebrity playboy she'd read about on Page Six.

She was in Richard Castle's bedroom, in his bed, the thought darted across her mind, accompanied by the memory of the ease with which he'd unwrapped and put on the condom. She hadn't thought of him as Richard Castle, the rich celebrity, when she'd been on her way here tonight; she had come here for Castle, Rick, the real man she'd gotten to know, her friend, the man she thought she could fall for with frightening ease.

A little niggle of uncertainty, of lingering insecurity, fluttered to life in her chest but she batted it back. No, no, she wasn't going to think like that. It didn't matter that he could be with anyone he wanted; he wanted her now. She trusted him—she did—and whatever his past or his reputation, he was here with her now, cared about her.

Lanie was going to flip. The thought of her best friend's reaction had an involuntary smile curving her lips, amusement sprouting inside her, and at that moment, Castle emerged from the bathroom in all his naked glory—oh yeah, definitely glorious—and her smile widened in spite of herself as she didn't even try to pretend not to be studying him—oh fine, ogling him—as he returned to the bed.

He slid into bed beside her and leaned over to touch his smiling lips to hers briefly. "See something you like, Detective?"

"Hmm," she pretended to think about it, biting the inside of her lip to contain her smile. She wasn't usually a very fun person and obviously at work, she was almost always serious but somehow, with him, humor and teasing came easier. "Your bed is very comfortable," she informed him with mock thoughtfulness.

He let out a brief laugh as he propped himself up on his elbow beside her, his other hand falling to rest on her stomach, his fingers tracing idle patterns over her skin. "You are welcome in my bed any time." He spoke lightly enough but there was a thread of something deeper underlying his tone that caught at her, somehow reminded her of her earlier wondering.

"How many women have been in this bed?" she blurted out, the words spilling from her lips without conscious volition.

He stilled and blinked, something she couldn't read flitting across his expression, and she winced. God, what a blunt, gauche thing to ask. "No, never mind, you don't have to—"

He cut her off with a quick shake of his head and a single word answer. "Two."

Two? She managed not to stare at him. "Your ex-wife and your ex-girlfriend?" she guessed.

He shook his head again. "Meredith, my ex-wife, was one, yes, and now, you."

"Oh," was all she could think to say, warmth flaring in her chest. She abruptly remembered what he'd said when they'd first come into his bedroom earlier, that he was really glad she was here. In his bedroom, where only one other woman had ever been. Oh god, really?

He lowered his eyes to focus on his hand where it rested on her stomach. "I'm not going to deny that I've been with my share of women, Kate, but I don't bring them here, into my home, my bedroom. There's Alexis to think about but also," he paused and lifted his eyes to meet hers, "it's like I said, I trust you."

Any remaining doubt in him dissolved into nothing as she slid her hand behind his neck and tugged him down to kiss him, slowly, her chest tight with so much affection and happiness and hope.

When the kiss ended, she realized that somehow they seemed to have drifted even closer together, his arm around her and keeping her entire body tucked securely into the curve of his. His hand was wandering lazily over her stomach and her side, idle sweeping caresses, while he contented himself with dropping the occasional feather-light kisses to her face, her temple, the tip of her eyebrow, along her hairline, her cheekbone, the bridge of her nose. Aimless touches of his lips to random places that he somehow managed to make seem precious.

It was a sort of lazy, pointless affection she'd never experienced before. None of the guys she'd been with before had been much into cuddling—admittedly, she didn't think she was either—she was used to touches, caresses, that had a definite purpose, to either get her into bed or arouse her when she was in it, but this sort of touching with no purpose other than general closeness, lazy intimacy—this was new. It wasn't something she would have expected to like much either, not really being a demonstrative, affectionate type of person. But she liked this. And as she was beginning to realize, everything about being with Castle was different. He was different. Or maybe, she was different when she was with him.

Her eyes drifted closed as she let his closeness, his gentle touches, lull her into a sort of somnolence as she somewhat belatedly became aware of how tired she actually was. It had been a long, draining day—no, make that a long, draining couple weeks.

His hand drifted further down her side to rest on her hip. "Hey, Kate?" he murmured.

She opened her eyes. "Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something now?"

"Mm, what?"

"Why the tattoo?"

The question roused her a little as she cast her glance down to where his hand was curved around her hip, one of his fingers lightly tracing over where she knew her tattoo was, although from this angle, she couldn't see it, the small line of delicate script reading 'Truth prevails.'

"It's for my mom," she began quietly and felt the subtle quiver of tension go through his body at her words, the way he pressed a light kiss of comfort and reassurance to her temple.

"It's from a quote my mom liked. 'Truth is powerful and it prevails.'" Her mom had liked to quote that line, when she was reviewing depositions and witness testimony to piece together the story to make her case to defend her clients.

"That's by Sojourner Truth, right?"

She supposed she shouldn't be surprised that Castle, who she already knew was well-read, would be familiar with the source of the quote. "Yes. My mom quoted it a lot so after…" After her mom had died but Kate found she couldn't say that and instead switched it around, "when I was in the Academy, I got it to remind me of her, my goal to find out the truth of what happened to my mom…" She paused, swallowed past the tightness in her throat, and looked up at him, met his eyes, soft with compassion and understanding. "And to remind me not to become the kind of cop who puts expediency, case closure numbers or anything else, over finding out the truth."

"Kate," he breathed, cupping her cheek with his hand. His lips curved ever so slightly into a faint, tender smile. "I was right. You really are extraordinary."

Oh, this man who looked at her as if she was some kind of super-hero, the most amazing person in the world.

He lowered his head to kiss her, his mouth warm and gentle, and she slid her hands around his neck, responding to his kiss with everything in her, all that she felt for him swirling in her chest. And offered up a silent promise to herself, to him, that she would try to be the extraordinary person he already thought she was.

A/N 2: Thank you all for reading and reviewing.