She moved closer to him, five steps and counting. "Dance with me," she whispered. "Hold me. Kiss me."

He needed no encouragement from her. He pulled her flush against his body, which had already begun to react the moment she began to light the candles. There was no danger of Principal Duncan interrupting them here, and he was thankful his mother had theatre tickets. Castle's lips descended upon hers, swallowed up her moans as their tongues dueled. He knew she was a take charge kind of woman. Strong. Independent. However, there were times, like now, when she gave in to her more submissive side. She just wanted to feel everything. She loved when he took charge, and showed her just how much he loved her. Whether she was handcuffed to the headboard, or he was just moving over her lost in both of their passions, he always showed her how much he loved her.

The music was beautiful. It was captivating, for all of twenty seconds because it quickly became something to be ignored. Even though it was now their song, they had more important things on their minds, such as the movement of their bodies and the pressure of his lips upon hers, dancing an intricate tango of their own. The ability to focus both on the sway of their dance and the magic of their kiss was long gone as Castle stilled and ran his hand up Beckett's arm and tangled his fingers into her long caramel locks of hair at the back of her neck, taking the kiss to new depths. He was reminded of how this felt like the first time, minus the thunderstorm and Beckett's soggy clothes, fueled by so much desire and longing. He was exploding with it. After he had proposed and laid all his cards out on the table for her, come hell or high water, he had never taken her for granted again, and he was determined to show her, every single day of his life, how much he loved her.

She thought she was damaged goods. He thought she was perfection, and deserved more than he could give her. Was it selfish of him to want to hang on to her for eternity? If it was, he didn't care. When they are together in a moment like this, though, all of those insecurities fall away. As she wears his ring, all of those insecurities don't even exist.

She canted further into his body, her back arched as he leaned over her, applying more pressure to her lips, causing them to swell from how thoroughly he was kissing her.

It felt like one of the hottest make out sessions she had ever had, if she was going to continue comparing herself to that of a horny teenager. Kissing Castle was like silk. So smooth and perfect. His tongue pushed past hers, opening her mouth further to allow the intrusion. He took a step forward, forcing her a step backward. Though disconcerting at first, their kiss remained as intense as the second it had started. A couple more steps and her legs met the cushion of the couch. She went down, in a heavy pant as her red and delightfully swollen lips were pulled away from his. Her chest heaved as she remember how to breathe actual air. She sighed to herself as she took in his lustful gaze as he towered over her. His normally bright eyes were darkened by his desire for her.

Beckett reached for his hand, gave him a small tug. Castle followed her lead, crawling up the couch until his body blanketed hers. He shifted most of his weight to his knee between her legs and felt a twinge of pain. His kneecap was particularly sensitive now ever since he had broken it, but it was nothing compared to the woman under him.

Beckett saw the flash of discomfort on his face. It was gone as quickly as it showed up, but she made a mental note to give his knee a massage later. He loved her massages. He thought he was sparing her by masking his pain, but she was too focused on him and noticed. She put one leg up on the back of the couch and pulled him down, mashing their lips together to continue what they had started. It caught him off guard, his weight pressed her into the cushions and she loved the feel of him crushing her. Her legs cradled him as he settled his lower body between them. She felt his erection pressed against her, heard his moan at the contact, and grinned into the kiss as a result. Her hands roamed all over his torso. From his firm pecs, to his strong biceps, up to his neck, and down his back. The cycle repeated itself a few times before she made a conscious effort to pull his shirt out from his pants.

Castle couldn't pinpoint when he started pushing his erection against her. Gentle thrusts to generate friction, but he had, and Beckett was making the softest noises at the back of her throat. When the kiss faltered after he thrust and hit her just right, his mouth trailed lower to her neck, finding the spot just behind her ear that drove her crazy and sent waves to course through her and pool low in her belly. She tilted her head slightly, giving him a better angle to tease her with. His mouth was hot against her already heated skin, boiling her from the inside out.

Suddenly, Castle stopped, pulled his mouth away and gazed down to meet her confused hazel eyes. He was stopping because he couldn't stop. The gentle gyrating of his hips, her mouth, her moans of pleasure, it was threatening to undo him. No, he couldn't stop, and that was why he stopped.

Her fingers skated across his cheek, maintaining their connection with one another. She smiled that brilliant smile that showed all of her perfect teeth. He rose from the couch, because damnit, he was not stopping and he pulled her up along with him. She crashed into his body with a giggle and he spun them around with the music that had moved on to play Lionel Richie's duet with Diana Ross. Though Rebel-Becks was just that, she was a softie at heart, and now that he was in her heart, he saw everything. He held her close as they moved across the room, blowing out the candles one by one, because he was not stopping. He picked up her badge and gun from the table and led them to the safe in his office. It took an extra amount of focus to get the bloody thing open as she pressed her cheek against his shoulder and her hands snuck around to his front.

Beckett's body still moved ever so slightly with the music and her hand traveled south to toy with the bulge trapped between two layers of clothing. She hummed softly as his breath hitched and he spun the dial two digits too far. "Third time's the charm, Castle," she told him in that sexy voice that gave him pause. He was this close to just dumping the gun and badge on the nightstand next to their bed. Her words, however lighthearted, seemed to carry a double meaning for the both of them. Third try of the dial, sure, but his third marriage, as well. Third time was definitely the charm.

When he finally cracked the safe open (he was seriously about to resort to all he had learned from the best safe cracker in the biz), he haphazardly dropped the items inside and closed it. He turned in her arms, his lips attacking her again as he pushed her backwards. They bumped into his desk, her hands tugged at his shirt buttons, slipping them through the fabric holes one at a time while Castle made a course correction for the bedroom, because he was not stopping.

The second the door closed behind them with the kick of his foot, his shirt went flying into the corner, landing on the chair in the corner in front of the picture of the elephant. Every time Beckett looked at it, she tried to figure out what the elephant in the room was going to be that day. Now that theirsong was figured out, it turned out the elephant in the room was just an elephant. Castle had laughed when she shared that with him after they began cohabiting. "Castle, there's an elephant in the room," she would say, and delve into whatever was on her mind.

He was moving too slow for her, though, but still he was not stopping. Heh, he just didn't want his mother to walk in on them should she dare to come home early from the theatre. Beckett began to work on her own shirt, lifting the hem when Castle brushed her hands away and back to her sides. Her shirt fell back into place. She shivered under the look he was giving her, challenging herself not to move at his insistence. His own hands made work of her shirt, pulling it up painfully slow. When it was over her head and her hair bounced back down to her shoulders, she looked like a goddess to him. They moved to the bed and found themselves situated in the middle, her head landing softly on the pillows. Beckett cradled his lower half again between her legs, and ignited another kiss, another moan.

Castle was on the move again in short order, trailing his mouth downwards to the valley between her breasts. Without fail, he always paid homage to the ring of puckered flesh. She had once asked him what went through his mind as his lips formed a seal around it. The first time he had done it, she had been surprised by the tear that had escaped his eye, and that moved her, but she never questioned it, just chalked it up to the exploration of her body and the discovery of something she had kept hidden from him. Several times later, she just couldn't help but wonder. "Just thanking God for your strength," he had answered. What she had once thought was toeing the line of uncomfortableness, was now something she craved, to know that she was accepted no matter how damaged she was.

Her back bowed as both his hands trailed up her abdomen to palm her breasts through the fabric of her black lace bra. "Rick," she panted softly, her eyes closing. His name spurred him on. When his first name fell off her lips like that, it was like someone was prodding him with a white-hot fire poker in his very core. He worked the button on her pants, teased her with the agonizingly slow pull of the zipper

It was a powerful feeling when no words needed to be said between them, because they both wanted the same thing in that moment. This wasn't just sex. It was so much more than that. They wanted to make love.

A/N: *teases* If you like, please review. If you want to slap me, please review. If you want to gush about Caskett, please review. Lol.