3x14, Lucky Stiff.

Many thanks to Polly Lynn for editing.

Kiss Me, Castle: Black Dress Remix

Wow. Nice car.

When she walks out of her bedroom, wobbling as she finally manages to jam her left heel into her shoe properly, Kate flips her hair back, straightening her skirt. Huh. She'd forgotten how short this dress was. Her legs are pasty white - thank you, New York winter - but she can't do anything about it.

She emerges into the living room to find her partner examining her bookshelves. Of course he is. He probably enjoys seeing so many of his own titles there.

Kate clears her throat. "Hey."

When Castle sees her, he swallows hard, his eyes making a long, lingering sweep to take her in.

She needs him to stop doing that.

"Come on." She grabs her coat, covering her bare skin that suddenly feels all too vulnerable. "Let's go."

It only gets worse.

The Ferrari roars through the streets of Manhattan and it's just more of the same. The adrenaline sings through her veins as she grips the gear shift, and the hum of the engine sets her on edge, a pulse keen and thrumming. She can see Castle in her periphery, his whole body tense. The wind whips her hair, stinging her cheeks, and Kate feels blazingly, brightly alive.

In the club, it's even worse.

There's heat under her skin, blazing, infuriating, and she has to clench her fists. It's a terrible, ceaseless energy she has to channel somehow, because the one thing she really, really wants to do, she can't. She can't drag him into a corner and start to work on the buttons of his shirt. She can't slide her hand slowly down the plane of his abs and trip over his belt buckle to get to his zipper.

She's dating Josh, and she has no excuse to rip the clothes off Castle's body. But that doesn't mean she's not thinking about it.

In her more honest moments, she knows there have been multiple times when she's in bed with Josh, in the middle of anything from good sex to very good sex, when she's been imagining Rick Castle. With her. On top of her. Under her. Inside her. She shouldn't. And if she let herself stop to really think about it, she'd feel guilty.

So she doesn't think about it.

She murmurs Get us some drinks into Castle's ear, pretending not to notice the shiver that runs through him, and swivels off to go do her job. She can handle this.

But Castle's staring at her ass with undisguised lust in his eyes. Like she's pure chocolate and he's got an insatiable hunger for dessert.

She glares at him and he realizes his mistake. "Drinks. Got it."

It's all wrong, though. He doesn't usually do this. He doesn't make it so obvious.

But last week he slipped his tongue in her mouth and she bit his bottom lip and that wasn't right, either.

He goes for the bar and Kate tells herself she's annoyed.

Not horny.

It's late by the time she gets home, so late it's early. She's tired. But she's jittery.

Kate lies in bed for a long time, staring at the ceiling, before finally giving up. She ends up on her couch, staring blankly at reruns of something on the television before the sound finally lulls her to sleep.

She drags him through the door into her bedroom, throwing him down on the bed and crawling onto his body. Castle groans, sliding his hands down her back, squeezing her ass.

He doesn't seem to mind how short her dress is.

Kate has no time for buttons; she rips his shirt apart and drags the soft red fabric off his chest, grinding her hips into his, a long, slow roll that makes her swallow hard. "Castle -"

Before she can react, he's pushing up on his arms, capturing her mouth in a long, rough, aggressive kiss. She clutches reflexively at his shoulders, whimpering as his tongue pushes into her mouth.

He grips her thighs tightly and staggers off the bed, shoving her back up against the wall. He's rough with her, his teeth nipping at her lip, his tongue sliding against hers. This isn't like him. He's charming, gentle with her normally. He lets her lead.

But now he's pushing his thigh between her legs, biting her ear. There's nothing gentle about it. Kate grips his shirt weakly, her body sinking into his.

"Castle," she gasps. "Castle -"

It's so quick. The thin, metallic sound of his zipper. The rustle of fabric. Her skirt sliding up her legs, the rough lace of her panties being tugged aside.

And then he lifts her up and slides inside her and everything goes white.

It's tight and hot and too much, sensory overload, and as he sucks on the line of her throat and rolls his body into hers, Kate shudders, her back arching, the change in angle sending sparks through her skin.

Castle thrusts into her again and again, and it's all a blur, her whole world narrowed to the tight, heavy weight between her legs, the steady pressure under her skin. Her body is unbearably hot, every inch of her on fire, and she claws at the muscles of his back, frantic to pull him closer, the throbbing hum she's been feeling all night grown to an unbearable roar.

His thrusts are getting messy, his hands on her thighs so tight it almost hurts, and she can feel the orgasm building, tightening her body. "Castle - Castle - I'm -"

She comes hard, clenching around him with a hoarse cry, her nails digging into his skin as she feels him tense up and spill inside her in a long, hot rush -

Kate wakes with a start, her whole body tense and sweaty.

Shit.

She sits up in bed, wiping her sweaty face with shaky hands. It's not the first time she's had a sex dream about him.

At least Josh wasn't here this time.