And the Night Shall Be Ours

AN: Post-ep for 5x14, 'Reality Star Struck.' Because I've been told that this is what you all want…isn't it? ;)

He can't… This is… What even?!

He fumbles with the cuff links but somehow the fabric got caught in the enclosure and it just won't budge. He pulls, wiggles, jerks, at the metal, then the sleeve, his fingers shaking because he really, really has no patience for this right now, knowing Kate is waiting for him, most likely merely scantily dressed at this point, all seductive svelte, never-ending limbs stretched out on her bed, tumbling hair and heavy-lidded eyes and he's got to get this shirt off and…

"Taking you an unusually long time to get naked tonight…" Kate's voice purrs behind him and his heart stutters in his chest, as it still does, always does when she is near him.

He sighs, tries to rip at the cuff link once more. "I can't get this opened, my fingers are too fat."

She huffs out a laugh but sidles closer, the warm length of her body pressed against his back as she bands her arms around his torso, rests her palms over his ribcage. Her mouth brushes his neck. "I'm rather fond of your thick fingers…"

His knees buckle, actually buckle at her whispered voice in his ear, the myriad of images, memories that assault his brain at her words, the way her body stretches out underneath him, back arched high, hips flying up when he moves, curls his fingers inside her, the feel of her wet warmth contracting, squeezing him tightly when she falls apart, open and trusting and so breathtakingly gorgeous.

She laughs again, her breath hot against his neck, knowing exactly what she does to him and then his mind goes completely blank when she tugs his shirttails out of his pants and moves her fingers to the lowest button. She flicks it open almost methodically, her knuckles grazing over the growing bulge in his pants and he groans, breathless, completely lost in her.

Her fingers dance higher, pop button after button on her way up, an agonizingly slow trail as she lightly caresses each newly revealed patch of his skin with barely-there brushes of her fingertips. Her mouth opened against his spine, she breathes over his shirt, each exhale spreading damp warmth across his skin beneath the fabric and his whole body flushes.

Reaching his collar, Kate undoes the last button, slowly parting the fabric over his chest and pullinging it off his shoulders. The shirt slides down his arms, gets stuck at the sleeves and fastened cuff links but she leaves it hanging there, her hands keeping busy instead, traveling over his pecs, his ribcage, the sides of his stomach and coming together beneath his navel. Her touch so tender that his breath stammers in his lungs, his blood humming beneath her fingertips.

She kisses his neck, over his shoulder blades, up and down his spine, her tongue and teeth darting and nipping along his skin while her hands trail lower, lower, skirt teasingly over the ever-growing bulge that is straining against the confines of his pants. He is on fire, heated and aching for more of her touch, her kisses, the wet heat of her tongue and the caress of her body.

"Kate," he groans coarsely, her name a plea rushing from deep inside where he's yearning to be inside of her, bodies entwined tightly, for this sweet agony to culminate. To never end.

"Hmmm…" She merely hums in response, the vibrations shimmying along his spine while her nails lightly scratch across his abdomen, departing from his sex to wrap around his left wrist instead. Her fingers deftly and easily undo the cuff link, and he'd be amazed at her skill if he weren't already completely and blissfully aware of just how clever her fingers are. Her arm reaches out and she pointedly drops the cuff link into the empty drawer, his drawer at her home and his heart leaps against his ribs, wanting nothing more than to twirl her around and into his arms, kiss her long and deep and intense until she makes that humming sound in the back of her throat and her whole body melts into his touch.

The shirt falls, hangs on him only by the evil, magical cuff link that started this all but she doesn't touch it. Instead she nuzzles his neck, her lips a hot path along the muscle strand before she nips at his earlobe, plays her tongue around it.

"This might come in handy later," she teases, tugging at the sleeve that holds his right arm captive and his eyes roll back in his head when her lips and tongue slick down his spine and her hand reaches around and cups him, flirting with his hard length through the fabric of his trousers. Her touch is tender but teasing, a flick of her index finger across his tip that rushes the blood through his veins, centers heat in his core. She makes quick work of his belt buckle, then pointedly flips open the button on his pants and unhurriedly slides down the zipper, each pop of the metal vibrating against him, leaving him jittery with need.

Her mouth caresses his lower back, her tongue teasing the line where his skin meets his boxers, a slick wet trail before she blows on it and the cool air makes him shiver, goose bumps climbing over his hips. Kate grips her fingers around the waistbands of his pants and boxers, pulling them down his hips and his legs, her lips following the newly exposed paths of skin. She kisses down his butt cheeks, his thighs, twirls her tongue behind his knee and he almost stumbles forward at the assault of sensations.

This is the most erotic way he's ever been undressed and he can barely take any more of the teasing, and yet he never wants it to end, the meticulous attention she pays to his body, to him; the way she loves him, so fully and freely, a well of effervescent passion and intensity and pure joy.

Kneeling at his back she helps him out of shoes and socks, throws pants and boxers to the side before she glides back up his body, mouth and tongue and fingers stroking, licking, nipping his calves and the back of his knees, over the muscle strands in his thighs and the curve of his ass, lower back, ribcage and shoulder blades until she's back at his neck, her breath fanning hot and fast against the edge of his jaw. He is shaky, burning up, completely naked and at her mercy, the rosy flush to his skin and his straining erection the vivid outward manifestations of how she completely undoes.

She tugs at the fabric bunched around his right wrist, startling him out of his stunned, amazed reverie as she pulls him along by that sleeve.

"You coming, Castle?" She murmurs, the lilt in her voice matching the teasing arch of her eyebrow as she throws him a glance over her shoulder.

He stumbles after her, his eyes widening at the sight of her, the lacy, red bra strap that crosses beneath her shoulder blades, soft strips of fabric that caress her hip bones and the tiny lace triangle that disappears between her butt cheeks. His mouth runs dry, his voice hoarse when he tries to find words.

"Pretty soon if you keep that up."

She laughs throatily, whirls him around by his shirt and pushes him down onto the bed. He falls willingly because there's nothing sexier than his detective taking charge. He loves her strength and the power housed in her muscles and her spirit, loves the mix of sensual domination with her innate, sweet shyness, loves how she's so open with him, free to be all that she is, raw and vulnerable, fierce and fiery.

Swinging a leg over his hips she straddles him, leaning over his mouth. "Not yet, I've still got plans for you," she murmurs against his lips, her breath hot on his face before she kisses him, once, twice, nipping at his bottom lip.

"Have you been wearing these all day?" He chases her mouth, his tongue gliding inside when her lips part on a gasp, playing with hers while his fingers tug at the soft lace that drapes over her hip bone. Her hips press lower when he teases his fingertips over the sensitive dip of skin beneath the bone, her thighs contracting, gripping him tighter.

Kate catches his wandering hand, raises it above his head, her eyes flashing in dark arousal. "That's for me to know…" She slides herself higher, the heat of her settling over his tensed stomach as she reaches for the shirt still fastened to his arm - and ties it to the headboard. He groans, his body straining for her in heightened anticipation while she grasps for his left wrist and ties the other sleeve around, tethering his arms together with a soft knot.

Her breasts swing enticingly over his face as she works and he captures one lace-clad nipple, sucks it into his mouth, pressing his tongue against the puckered flesh that strains against the fabric. She whimpers, clamps her fingers around the headboard to hang on, gives herself over to his touch for a long moment. He nips with his teeth, sucks vigorously, twirls his tongue around and around until throaty moans burst from her mouth and her body flushes with wet heat that coats his stomach.

Kate pulls out of his reach, settles her body lower, right atop his hips where he strains, hungers for her and he can't stop staring at her, this strong, magnificent woman that holds him completely in the palm of her hand, and yet he trusts her like he's never trusted anybody else. Knows she'd never use him or try to control him, would never abuse the power she holds over him. She's smiling down at him, pleased with herself but it's warm and soft and so happy that it aches, leaves him shivering beneath her, the rush of love he feels for her overpowering in its intensity.

She's all graceful lines and lithe strength; her breasts high and perfect, her slender waist and the flare of her hips, and his heart thumps ferociously against his ribcage. "You are magnificent," he stutters the words that overwhelm his brain and she tilts her head, her eyelids lowering shyly. He wants to kiss her, craves the soft heat of her lips, the hot curl of her tongue. Wants to trail his fingers over her silky skin, needs to feel her warmth and supple softness, but he can't move, can't pull her forward, and "Kate," he pleads, begs, his hips jerking into her pelvis.

She falls forward on a fluttery moan, curling her fingers through his hair and then she kisses him, deep and full of longing, her tongue curling around his, a hot hungry battle. He groans into her mouth, nips at her lips before he delves once more into the cavern of her mouth, her flavor sweet on his tongue. She's breathless when she pulls away, her palms pressed to his chest as she rises. She leans over to reach her nightstand before she settles down onto his hips, a chocolate covered strawberry held between her fingertips and he's no longer sure he is going to survive this night.

She offers him the strawberry, sliding its chilled tip along his bottom lip until he opens his mouth and she pushes it inside. He bites down, the juicy, fresh flavor exploding in his mouth, mingling with the sweetness of the chocolate before her lips cover his, capture the rest of the fruit and the juice coating his lips with a flick of her tongue.

He swallows his bite and slides his tongue deeply into the cavern of her mouth, its surface chilled from the fruit and tasting like strawberries and chocolate, kisses her deeply, wildly, craving her so intensely that the blood rushes in his ears, his veins, his skin on fire from the top of his spine down to his toes. She moans, whimpers against his lips, her hips undulating over his, completely unrestrained in her need but then she pulls away yet again and he almost sobs at the loss.

Kate grabs another strawberry, this time trailing the cold fruit down the length of his neck, and goose bumps rise along his skin where the chill hits the heat of his body. She's watching him closely, takes in every reaction as she dances the strawberry over his sternum, swirling it in haphazard patterns over his pecs and around his nipples, the clash of hot and cold sensations leaving him groaning, jittery beneath her.

The warmth of his skin leaves a line of melted chocolate behind wherever she dragged the fruit, and she leans over his chest, lapping up the sweet path with her tongue, a hot wet swirl all over his torso and he groans breathlessly, his need for her like a yearning gap in his chest, her name a desperate plea on his lips.

She picks up the strawberry with her teeth, offering him the other half with her mouth in a playful kiss until juice trickles down his chin. "Kate, please," he moans when she licks the sweet strawberry essence off his jaw, his fingers clamped around the constraints of his shirt, nails digging into the fabric, his abdomen taut with the forceful clench of restraint. He feels her smile stretch against his jawline, feels everything with such heightened intensity that it's almost unbearable and yet he desperately hungers for more.

"Almost there," she murmurs mischievously and then there's another strawberry winding its path over his stomach, around his navel, over his hips and dipping toward his pelvis before her tongue follows the trail, lapping and licking, and he's gasping, sobbing, all his blood rushing south, his insides clenching with suppressed, wild need. And then her lips wrap around his tip, the cavern of her mouth still chilled from the strawberry flesh in sharp contrast to the heat of his body and he can barely constrain his hips from roughly jolting up into her.

Her lips, her mouth, her tongue tease and stroke and caress, and it's both tender and so unbelievably intense that he feels like he's breaking out of his skin. Words tumble from his lips, incomprehensible sounds even to him yet she seems to understand because she lets him go, and rises above him instead.

She's so breathtakingly beautiful, proud and stunning like a goddess, even this scantily clad. The scraps of lacy underwear hide almost nothing, her nipples straining against the see-through fabric of the red, strapless bra and he wants to touch and taste and feel, needs more, all of her, everything.

"I need you Kate," he pleads, never too proud to share the intensity of his desire in words. Whichever words he can press out in his breathless, helpless state of arousal. "I want you so much."

Her eyes shimmer darkly; pupils wide and her cheeks flushed pink, her desire mirroring his in ferocious intensity. She rises to her knees, slides the flimsy lace of her panties out of the way before she wraps her palm around his length, teases his tip through the slick wetness of her folds. His eyes slam shut at the feel of her heat, head tilted back in stunned torment.

"Rick…" She calls for him, voice roughened with desire and it's a struggle to get his eyes to open.

"Watch…" she instructs when their eyes meet and she holds his gaze, stroking herself with his tip. "Watch us." And she takes him inside, sinks down over his length, and he groans when the warm wetness of her body wraps around him like a snug glove; a fluttering, searing caress. Their hips kiss and her head falls back in delight, her body gripping him tightly.

For one breathless moment they still, the flutter of her inner muscles the only movement as they melt together, and he breathes and feels, the wet warmth of her body around him, the weight of her hips pressed over his, the balance and strength of her slender body above him.

And then she moves, slowly at first, slides almost all the way off him before she sinks back down, rotating her hips against his pelvis with each downward stroke, and he won't last long if she keeps that up, already so far gone from the extended tease of her foreplay. His hips jitter with suppressed need and on her next slide down he slams his pelvis up into her, reaching her deeply and her back arches, her dark moan tearing from deep within her chest.

He repeats the move and her rhythm gets faster, hips undulating in a wild pattern that has him seeing stars. Her fingers slide between her legs, dance over her swollen nerves in the pulsing cadence set by their bodies and he almost can't hold back at the sight, groans roughly as his head falls back against the pillow. His arms strain and he growls, fights against the knots that bind him to the headboard, desperately needs to touch her, feel her skin, her warmth beneath his hands.

Kate stills, sliding off him before she crawls over his torso, her fingers making quick work of the knotted shirt until the bindings loosen around his wrist. He wraps his lips around her other nipple this time, sucks and teases until his arms are free and she is whimpering above him, can barely keep herself upright.

He rises with her when he's freed, sitting in the middle of the bed, the shirt still awkwardly dangling from one of his wrists but he barely notices as she settles into his lap, takes him inside once more, her wet, pulsing heat calling him home. She wraps her legs around his sides, her arms laced over his neck as his cradle her back, holding her tightly to him, slick skin to slick skin, the lace of her bra rasping against his chest.

She circles her hips with every slight yet potent thrust of his pelvis into her, their movements confined and slow, and so intense that she cries out each time he drives deeper inside her, her eyes fluttering closed, her stomach muscles quivering with her impending orgasm. He's jolting within her, aching and yearning, ready with her and come on, Kate, come on, let it go.

She gasps roughly when she falls apart, her back arched, head thrown back, her legs clenched around him, mirroring her inner muscles that contract and tremble over his length, her body a long, undulating line of shudders. The convulsions of her heat around him throws him over the edge, white stars flaring brightly behind his eyelids as his whole body contracts, muscles and limbs quaking, trembling within and around her until he falls backwards onto the bed, limp and spent, cradling her tightly to him. She's gasping for breath, her body draped slick and boneless over his.

He runs his fingers through her messy hair, lovingly brushes the damp strands off her forehead. His amazing, gorgeous, utterly sexy, sweet, loving woman.

"You definitely win for best Valentine's Day gift."

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