Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

AN: Moving this one over from LJ because Jenna is a bad influence. This is pretty old, was written during the hiatus between seasons four and five. Super sorry if you've read this one before.

She's standing in his kitchen, bare legs poking out from underneath the billowing hem of one of his dress shirts, body swaying to some internal melody. Her hair whispers against the collar of the shirt - his shirt; he can't get over that - the curled ends dancing between her shoulder blades. Castle stands on the threshold to his office, transfixed.

The way she moves, light and lithe, her body bending and curving about the obstacles of furniture and appliances like she's been doing it forever, hypnotizes him. The tips of his fingers itch with the need to touch her, to feel those dancing muscles ripple smoothly under his hands, but touching would mean moving and he's not ready to give up his vantage point just yet.

He loves watching her when she's unaware of his gaze. Catching her in small moments of intimacy that fill him with warmth, make his breath catch in his throat. Moments that remind him that she's real and here and his. The way she runs her fingers down the empty sleeve of his jacket when she places her own next to it in the closet, a private smile curling the soft edges of her lips. Her habit of turning the pages of a novel with a dampened fingertip, tongue trapped between her teeth. How she kisses his jaw when she thinks he's asleep, body warm and pliant next to his in the dark.

Her hips rock in time to the clink of metal against porcelain as she stirs her coffee. The shirt rides up her thigh when she lifts the cup to her mouth, lips pursed to blow at the swirling steam, exposing the rounded swell of her ass and he pushes off the doorjamb and walks quickly toward her, the need to touch overtaking the desire to watch.

"I was wondering when you were going to give in and come over here," Kate murmurs as he steps up behind her, presses his lips to the warm plane of her shoulder blade.

"You knew I was watching?"

"I am a detective, Castle," she laughs. He nudges into the spill of her hair with his nose, plants a wet kiss to the base of her neck. "I'm trained to know. Plus, you're not as covert as you like to think."

"I need to work on my badass ninja skills?"

"Or just stop staring at me creepily from across the room."

"So I should stare at you creepily up close then?"

"Are you going to speak in anything other than interrogatives today?"

Castle nips at her ear, hands curling around her waist. "Do you have any idea how hot you are, standing in my kitchen at six am, wearing my shirt, and using words like 'interrogatives'?"

Kate sighs and leans back into his chest, the coffee cup thumping heavily on the countertop. His lips dance down her neck, the bitter bite of yesterday's perfume stinging the tip of his tongue. She grips his hands and tugs, pulling his arms around her waist. A moan rolls through her chest when he pops open the single button holding the shirt closed and scrapes his blunt nails across her stomach.

"You like that?"

She hums, her head falling back onto his shoulder. "You know what I like."

"Do I?" Castle switches the positions of their right hands, lays her open palm against the soft skin of her stomach, his palm pressed over the back, fingers filling in the spaces between hers. "Why don't you show me?"

Turning her head, Kate catches his mouth, coffee flavored tongue gliding over his bottom lip. Their joined hands slide up her stomach, her arm flexing and twisting under his. He breaks the kiss and watches, her hand swallowed by his, only her fingers visible as they skate up her chest, through the valley of her breasts. She covers his left hand with her own, fingers slipping between his as she pushes, moving their hands down to run over the outside of her bare thigh.

"You like it when I touch your thighs, Beckett?"

Nodding, she pulls their right hands down to her other thigh, digging her fingers into her own muscles. His back bows when she reaches down as far as she can, caressing her outer thighs before sliding in and dragging their fingers back up the inside. She slips through the crease where thigh meets torso with curved fingers, nails scraping over her skin. Castle mirrors her movements with their left hands, sinks his teeth into the curve of her shoulder. The difference between the sensations under his hands - one covering so much of her, the other barely connecting - fascinates him, makes him hyper-aware of just what he is and is not touching.

Their hands move over her body slowly, dragging across her hips and stomach, cresting the arc of her ribs, fingers slipping into the dips between them. Kate guides them to her breasts, cupping herself in her right palm, kneading her fingers into the flesh, whimpering softly when she tugs on her right nipple and he follows with her left.

"How wet are you?" Castle paints the question onto the curve of her neck, tongue darting out to accent the stroke of his words. Her hips rock rhythmically against his, tiny circles that he meets at random intervals, pushing himself into the curve of her ass.

"Don't you want to feel for yourself?" She asks, turning her head toward him, eyebrow cocked wickedly. Fuck, he loves when she plays along with his games.

"Do you want me to?"

With a laugh, Kate pulls their right hands down to her stomach, gripping her fingers tightly around his left hand, holding it in place on her breast. "Very much," she whispers, hand slipping down over the soft curve of her abdomen.

She draws lazy patterns over her hip, fingers brushing lightly against her skin. Castle rests his chin in the crook of her neck and casts his eyes down. He watches her use their joined hands to map her own body, drawing closer and closer to the apex of her thighs with each sweep and circle of her fingertips.

"Are you teasing me or yourself, Beckett?" He growls the question into her ear, tweaking the nipple still in his hand and smiling at her soft gasp.

"Mostly me," she answers, abandoning her grip on his left hand and sliding her fingers into his hair. "That it seems to be working on you," she grinds her ass into his very obvious erection, "is just an added bonus."

His chuckle turns into a groan as she parts herself, drags their middle fingers through her arousal. She circles around her clit once and slides back down, pushing into her palm. Castle presses hard against the back of her hand and she groans, hips grinding into the pressure.

"You like that?" He curls his fingers between hers, increases the force of his palm. "Is that what you want?"

The fingers in his hair fist and Kate nods, slipping her middle finger slowly inside herself. She pants out his name as he loosens his grip around her fingers, slides his hand slowly away from hers. "Castle. Touch me."

"What if I just want to watch?"

Yanking his hair, Kate twists her neck, bites down sharply on the corner of his bottom lip.

"You want to know what I like?" He nods, lip still trapped between her teeth. "I like it when you touch me." She flicks her tongue over his lip and releases it, her lips skimming over his cheek as she continues.

"I like the way you groan when you feel how wet I am for you." Her damp fingers wrap around his and pull him back to her dripping heat. "The way you touch me like it's the first and last time you'll ever be able to."

She presses herself down into his palm, uses her fingers to push him into her. He groans as she stretches around him, wet and scalding, her hips rolling to the cadence of her words.

"I like how your fingers are so thick that it feels like you're breaking me apart. I love that you want to know what I want." She cranes her neck and catches his gaze, eyes blazing. "And what I want right now, Castle, is for you to fuck me."

The tight ball of desire floating in his chest explodes at her words, flooding his body with heat and need. Growling, he bites at her lips, pushes his fingers further inside her. He catches her cries with the curl of his tongue, swallowing her desperation and letting it feed the flames burning in his stomach. She grinds down into his hand, her body curling in on itself as she pushes back against him, her full weight slamming into the cradle of his hips.

Bowing over her, Castle leans them forward, pressing her into the counter. Kate gasps when her breasts brush across the cold granite, body bucking underneath him. Her fingers leave his hair and she braces herself on the counter with her forearm, hips twisting against the rough push of his fingers. Castle wraps his left hand around her waist, holding her steady as he pumps his hand between her legs.

He bites down on her shoulder when she begs him for more, curling his fingers inside her until she's grunting out his name on every thrust, her body arching violently as she strains for her orgasm.

"Do you want to come, Kate? Is that what you want now?"

"Yes," she groans, the single syllable tight with a desperate need.

"You want me to make you come?"

"Please," she begs, her hips pitching wildly against his hands. "I need - I need - I-"

"What? What do you need?"

She pants her answer, rapid and brittle, the words shattering as soon as they trip off her tongue. "You. More. You. Now."

Castle leans down, draws a wet line up the side of her neck with his mouth, pulls her earlobe between his teeth.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Pulling her hips tightly up against his, Castle slides his left hand down, slipping two fingers in between his right palm and her body. With a twist of his wrist, he flicks his fingers over her clit, feels her clamp down around him, the intensity of her orgasm almost crushing his fingers. Kate groans out his name, her nails scrambling for purchase on the counter, body rigid and spasming. Castle slows his fingers, lets her work through the peak, her muscles slowly going limp.

Panting, she collapses on the counter, presses her cheek against the cool stone. He releases her and straightens, stretching his legs gingerly as he runs a flat palm over her back, the shirt rasping softly against his skin

"You okay?"

Kate nods, sweaty cheek squeaking against the granite. Slowly, she stands and turns to face him, the gaping shirt slipping off one shoulder. Silently, she grabs his hands and twists their fingers together, starts to walk backward out of the kitchen.

"Where're we going?"

"To bed."

"Why?"

"I want to know what you like."

"You do?"

"Hmm-mm," she gives him a sultry smile and his heart flips, his body humming with anticipation. "And I'm very interested in discovering how quickly I can get you to switch from interrogatives to exclamations."

Thanks for reading. Your thoughts and comments are always appreciated.