From the time I wrote "Little Black Dress", I've always wondered what would happen if Castle returns to where he left her standing...so I just had to write this.
For those of you who have missed "Little Black Dress" (from "The One" collection) I am reposting it here so the story may flow together.

RATED M FOR MATURE... cause the good stuff usually is. ;)

Little Black Dress

"I'll just be a minute," she says, entering her apartment, leaving Richard Castle alone to close the door.

Castle takes a moment to watch her exit the living room, turning a corner leaving him standing iron clad in tuxedo, carefully hanging onto the moment as she walks from his presence. She is a vision in her strapless, tight fitted, black dress, leaving not much to his imagination, and everything to his desire.

When he had invited her to accompany him to his book signing party, she had demanded there be no presents as before, no lavish dress. She had insisted she could dress herself, and in Kate Beckett fashion she had done it to perfection, with not a single strand of hair out of place, carrying herself in such a manner that Castle seemed to be continually picking his jaw from the floor. He could not turn his gaze and thoughts away from her the entire evening, finding it difficult to pull his hands from her body. He would utter a small groan when he had to draw away from her to sign a book, to give a speech, all in all coming back to her when it had passed.

True, on occasion her back would straighten and she would pull from him slightly, but at the steady motion of his hand she would succumb and relax to fit in tightly beside him. He would notice her look around, her gaze falling on the other women in the room, their eyes turning to her envious. Quietly they would talk to one another; Castle, the envy of their desires. This pleased him, more than any other longing gaze he had ever received; for Beckett was his that night, and he was not going to let his Nikki Heat out of his sight.

So when Beckett received the urgent call, and turned into him whispering, "There's been another murder, I need to go," Castle, without hesitation nodded saying, "We'll slip out the back."

She had told him she needed to change, her high heeled stilettos, incapable of treading across soggy terrain. And as the rain outside falls in sheets across the city of New York, Richard Castle finally takes steps across her living room to her mantle picking up a photo frame. In it a young Kate Beckett smiles uncontrollably as her mother, hair cascading across her face, reaches out, tickling her. Castle can't help but smile placing the photo back in its place, turning the frame with a gentle finger.

Out of the corner of his eye, through partially closed door, he notices. Turning his head he sees her, standing with her back to him, hands fumbling at the top of her zipper, her clasp, unwilling to release. As if by another force he is pulled from his location, quietly stepping across to her door opening it, releasing a small creek.

Her hands stop in their motions, aware of his presence as he draws nearer to her backside.

Without saying a word he reaches up to her hands carefully pulling them from their work, letting them fall to her side. His fingers turn to the clasp, pulling it apart. He takes a moment, his hands gently resting on her back before continuing.

As her head lowers, her hands are brought together in front of her. He draws his attention to her zipper slowly lowering it, his fingers trailing behind, her skin rising at his touch. He is careful not to catch her dress, as new skin is revealed to him, her bare back, her lacy panties.

He finishes his work, his hands pulled away from her skin, drawn to his hair. He sighs turning, walking from the room, leaving her alone standing still. Kate Beckett raises her head letting out a held breath, silently willing her heartbeat to slow.

****

Little Black Dress Reprise

He walks behind her slowly, steps padded with carpet underfoot. She stands still before him breathing erratically. She is in the same position he has left her moments earlier. He reaches out unsure if she is a vision or figment and finds the flesh of her lower back beneath his fingertips. Instantly, tiny beads of sweat reach his touch and he glides the back of his fingers up her flesh, reaching her shoulders. Palms flat on the curves of her arms, he pulls her toward him almost taking her off balance.

Steadily he draws his lips to her neck, gliding his lips up her neck line causing her to lean back against him, her body curving into his. She closes her eyes and shakes, goosebumps cover her skin. He feels them beneath his touch and reaching her ear, plays carefully with her lobe taking it between his teeth.

"Are you cold?" he asks, allowing his hands to travel down her arms, taking her fingers in his own.

She opens her eyes, lowering her head and shakes it. A twisting in her stomach, she is unable to speak, unable to provide him with instructions and instead takes his hands guiding them down her body to rest on her hips. Her dress now loose on her body, she rotates her head to find him looking at her. She feels exposed and a smile escapes her as his eyes reach her own.

A low, rumbling sound emits from the back of his throat and he wastes no time acting on her invitation; his hands steady on her hips. He tilts his head to take her lips. Heavy breaths shared between them, he raises one of his hands up her body. She turns quickly into him, their kiss quickening; tongues writhing, teeth clashing. His hands warm on the exposed skin on her back, he pulls her tighter, desperation growing. A hand finds the inside seam of his pant leg and a tight smile spreads across her lips. Tongue reaching inside his mouth, she lets her hands wander up his body, slowly, finally reaching inside his jacket pushing it off his shoulders.

He removes his hands from her body, taking a step back to shake from his suit jacket, quickly returning to her, commencing their heated entanglement again. With the flick of his tongue and a playful growl from the woman before him, he pulls from her again to grab her face. Her eyes still closed, he is the first to speak.

"Wait," he says all too unsure with himself. The passion growing within her, she seems unsteady, love-drunk in his hands.

Her knees weak, toes numb, she takes a step sideways slightly to gain her balance. "What?" she questions, fighting her senses which attempt to make sense of the situation before her.

"Is this what you want?" he asks.

She smiles wryly and opens her mouth to say something but instead raises an eyebrow, taking a step back. She looks up at him sensually and in curling her lip lifts her hands to her hips, pulling at the thick fabric of her dress, lowering slowly, shifting it side to side.

He is careful in this moment, keeping his focus on her eyes; dark and inviting. As her dress hits the floor, he cannot help lowering his eyes to her body, curvy, soft and supple.

She steps from her dress with pointed toe and gingerly moves toward him. His breathing heavy once more, hands by his side, she smiles up at him and brings her hands to his chest spreading out the soft fabric of his shirt.

"Is this the answer you were looking for?"

He holds her focus for a moment, watching the consciousness of reality fade in and out of her eyes. She blinks, smiling again up at him.

He reaches up quickly to his neck, pulling at his tie removing it, throwing it to the floor. He looks up at her ceiling. "Thank you Jesus Christ."

The passion returns to them, heavy in their kiss. Her hands working feverishly on the buttons of his shirt. Pulling at the fabric, he removes it, immediately reaching for his belt buckle. She places her hands on his, removing his fingers. She takes the leather in her fingertips and removes the cinch, her fingers entering the seam of his pants; hot to the touch. She kneels before him, unbuttoning, unzipping, lowering his pants.

She giggles looking up at him and lets her hands fall to his calves, her body slumping to the floor.

"What?" he asks, smiling at her as she continues to giggle uncontrollably.

She opens her eyes looking up at his fitted boxers, black with tiny red hearts. "If someone had asked me what kind of boxers Richard Castle would wear, this is not what I would have imagined."

"I guess I'm full of surprises." He reaches down to pull her hair back from her face.

She raises her brow again. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see about that."

Delicate fingers pull at the seam of his boxers lowering them to the floor. She looks up slowly, rising to her knees again, letting her hands trail up his legs to take him in her grasp.

Looking up to the ceiling again, his voice breaking, "Sweet Jesus."

She takes him in her mouth; warm and inviting, growing with each of her steady movements. He groans looking down at her to find her sights set on him, dark and enchanting. He gives in to her spell releasing her name as easily as breath.

She removes her mouth, taking him in her hands, thick, throbbing, licking, continuing to hold his gaze.

His fingers entangled in her hair, he lets a gasp escape him as he enters her mouth again. Breathing increasing again with each pull, he groans leaning down to pick her up, placing her on her feet. Pressing her tightly against him, feeling her body warm and soft against his flesh, he finds her mouth quickening her breathing with each flick of his tongue.

"Oh god Kate," he says, making her movements hungrier, causing her to tug harder. "OK," he says taking her hands in his, placing them on his shoulders, "I think we need to slow that down."

She smiles, impressed with herself and finds his lips. His fingertips travel the length of her, lightly from the tips of her fingers stopping at her elbows, the soft underside of her arms, down the sides of her back. She shivers, smiling in his kiss, heat growing within her.

He takes her leg behind the knee and wraps it around him. Instructing her to follow his lead, he lifts her from the floor. Hands holding steady, he brings her to her bed, the pair falling feverishly into tousled blankets.

He breaks them from their kiss, leaving a trail down her neck line, to stop between her breasts. She tilts her head to look down at him as he takes her in his mouth, arching her back at the sensation she has been waiting for. Longing and desire as he continues his trail down her body to pull gently at her lace, removing it. Her legs spread for him, he does not need invitation. Sucking gently, licking, fingers exploring, feeling her writhe above him. Her hands find the rungs on her headboard, fingers curling. Her toes curl and are released as she calls out his name, body urging uncontrollably.

He looks up at her as she gasps for air, body shaking, his fingertip prickling on her skin as he tilts his head to kiss the inside of her thigh.

She catches her breath smiling at him, reaching to open her beside table's drawer pulling out a condom. She tosses it to him, missing, having it land on her midriff. He smiles up at her taking it in his hand and kisses where it landed. Her breathing quickening, he kisses her again, hands working feverishly below him. He pulls from her lips to search her face, seeing her lustful before him, and rests against her thigh, holding steady above her.

Her fingertips tread across his brow-line which holds questions, warning, but at the soft touch of her, he relaxes, finding approval in her comfort. She pulls his forehead to her lips, urging him onward with a movement of her thigh. He lowers his weight into her, slowly, watching the lines on her face return from a few minutes past. Irresistible to his yielding, she writhes beneath him, beckoning him to quicken his pace; low emittance from the back of her throat. Finally he moves his body, placing a hand to her side, another to hold himself above her. She feels him leaving her, and quickly brings her hands to his back, pulling him downward.

He shakes his head, "I want to watch you."

He kisses her throat before pulling away again, letting his eyes take in the sight of her. Passion heavy, Kate Beckett swoons at each of his movements, moving her body in time with his, a light beading of sweat formed on her body. She groans, lifting her legs, inviting him deep within her. She pulls at him again needing him nearer, fingers clawing across his back.

He cups her lower back firmly, pulling himself to his knees, keeping her with him so she is now straddling him, their bodies upright. The friction close between them, she is satisfied with their convenient proximity. Slick skin moving in timely fashion, they take the opportunity to kiss once more; the bucking of their bodies causing their teeth to clash together, her chin to hit his cheek. They smile at one another, and she leans back, her hands at the base of his neck, fingers entwined. Aware of what she is doing, he motions her nearer into ecstasy. Focusing to keep in time with her, it is not long before pleasure spreads over him in thick, heated waves.

They fall together, bodies sticking with sweat. Reluctant to pull from her, he rests on an elbow above her, their heaving panting now subsiding.

"Was that enough Nikki Heat for you?" she questions, a hand to his shoulder, playfully tracing circles on his sticky flesh.

He smiles, releasing a sigh. "I think that was pure Kate Beckett if you ask me."

She giggles. "You're right. It was."

"Well then. That's all I need."

sigh... ;)