100 Sex Positions of the Kama Sutra
By Dana Keylits

A/N: This was originally going to be a daily series of somewhat related ficlets to get us through the summer hiatus. But it was a much bigger job than I imagined, so now I will update it as often as I can, but probably not daily. This is rated M, but not every ficlet will be M rated. I will also, on occasion, have some wonderfully talented guest writers contribute to this project (I'm looking at you, Liv and Kristy! Mwahahaha! You thought I'd forgotten about it, eh?). So if you are a Castle writer and would be interested in writing one of the installments, please let me know! Each ficlet will be between 500 and 2,500 words.

These stories take place during season five, before the finale, and will not address "the proposal" (I am choosing to ignore the proposal because I'd rather let AWM handle it than attempt a guess at what is going to happen myself). If you want to see what the positions look like (I promise it's not graphic, I know, too bad), you can do a google search, type in "100 sex positions of the Kama Sutra" or find me on Twitter ( krdaniels) and I'd be happy to send you the link to the webpage.

I hope you'll enjoy reading these as much as I've enjoyed writing them!

And now, on to the story!

Chapter One
The Erotic V

"What's this?" she asked, holding the red-wrapped package in her hand, her face a veneer of confusion. It wasn't her birthday, or their anniversary; she hadn't done anything particularly gift-worthy recently, except for, well, the other night when she did that thing with her legs; a lopsided smile bowed her lips as her mind wandered back in time to their carnal exploits from the week before.

"I saw it at the bookstore in Minneapolis when I was at that signing last week. I picked it up." He edged closer to her, lowering his voice. "…thought we could have some fun with it." He pointed at the square package, his bright blue eyes glistening with mischief, their corners adorned with impish lines. "Open it, Beckett. It's a gift."

She shook the package; it was solid, a book, or maybe a cutting board, but why would he give her a cutting board? She slid one slender finger beneath the seam of the red paper, carefully dislodging the tape, but when Castle exhaled loudly beside her, she ripped the rest of the paper off, balled it up, and absently tossed it into the trash bin tucked neatly beside the kitchen counter.

It was a book. She flipped it over to read the title.

One Hundred Sex Positions of the Kama Sutra

She glanced up at him suspiciously, her eyes narrowing. "Uh huh. This is a gift for me?"

He advanced behind her, a crooked grin decorating his face, "Well, for us," he teased, fingering the edges of the book, his hips playfully brushing against her backside.

"For us," she whispered, amused, her body responding to the contact of his hips like they were a pair of nestling magnets. "I assume by giving me this, you're going to want us to try all one hundred positions?"

"Are you implying we can't?" He asked, his mouth rearranging into a lopsided grin, his eyes flecked with challenge.

"I dunno, you're getting to be an old man, Castle. A daughter in college..." She shook her head playfully, a kittenish grin teasing her lips as she heard a wha? come from him behind her.

"I can handle it if you can, Detective," He stated, his voice tinged with wounded pride. He pushed his hips against her more firmly and she had to grab at the counter edge to brace herself. He smiled knowingly when a gust of air rushed past her lips.

She closed her eyes, took a steadying breath, giving the arousal that was building within her time to settle in, fill in all of the spaces. Her cheeks growing crimson, her body tingling with a slow, but building undercurrent, she whispered his name and then leaned forward, forcing her backside against his groin, savoring the oh that lurched from him.

She turned around slowly, excruciatingly slowly, as though punishing him, and trailed her hands up the broad expanse of his chest, smoothing out the wrinkles that crisscrossed over his plum colored oxford shirt. Her eyes slowly rose, examining the vee of his throat, inching up to his lips, where they lingered, before finally rising to meet the blue of his eyes. She cocked her head to one side, one corner of her mouth inched upwards as she stared at him from beneath the long fan of lashes that framed her hazel, teasing eyes. She skimmed her thumb over his bottom lip before softly kissing him. "Let's do it," she whispered against his mouth.

She felt his answer as it grew hard against her hip, and she laughed, glancing down between them.

They parted, immediately missing the contact of their bodies, prompting the shared arousal humming between them to protest loudly, and then Kate picked up the book and turned to the first page.

The Erotic V.

Castle grinned. Kate frowned. "This is much more work for me, than it is for you," she complained, the heavy book tottering on her palms as she held it in front of them.

"Really? You're balking at the first one? How are we ever to get through all one-hundred?" He whined dramatically, proving, yet again, that he was indeed his mother's son.

She bit the inside of her cheek and set the book down on the counter behind her. "Fine." She reached out, gathering the collar of his shirt into both fists as she positioned him in front of her, her back against the counter. "Let's have a go at this," she challenged, her fingers slipping the top translucent button on his shirt through its companion hole. She briefly scraped his exposed skin with her fingernail as she chin-nodded behind him. "We'll do it there," she indicated the dining room table and his eyebrows shot up, the pink of his cheeks turning to red.

She shuffled him backwards, her fingers leisurely unbuttoning his shirt, her eyes flickering from his lips to his throat, to the small curls of hair on his chest. She was enjoying herself, especially pleased with the affects of her sudden seduction when he stumbled backwards, a series of incomprehensible sounds rising from his throat.

They landed at the table, a whispered oomph thrust from Castle's lungs as the table hit the back of his thighs.

"Ready?" she asked, his shirt completely unbuttoned allowing her hands to roam beneath it, her palms tracing each rise of muscle over bone, her fingers strumming the ladder of his ribcage before tracing an ever more dangerous course along the soft rise of his abdomen.

He flinches, "Wha? Kate. Whoa. Yes, wow."

She kissed him, their lips soft and full, and she relaxed against the firm press of his mouth. Her body progressed towards him like church bells were calling her in, and the sanctuary of their kiss compelled her. She slipped her tongue into the warm cavern of his mouth, teased the dangerous sharp edges of his teeth before meeting with his tongue in a languid ballet. He took her lower lip with his teeth and pulled, then sucked her into his mouth, making her wish he could inhale all of her.

He held her lip between his teeth for the briefest of moments – both danger and delight coursed through her - and then released it. Kate pulled back and gasped, staring at him with hooded eyes, a silent ringing in her ears.

"I'm ready, baby." He replied hoarsely, having finally found solid footing.

She felt unhinged, her moist eyes staring into his, and she grabbed his waist with both hands and spun them 180 degrees, so now her thighs were pressed against the table. They found each other again, their lips meeting, muscle beneath flesh, exploring and daring each other.

He studied every inch, every curve and angle of her body with his own, and with unsteady hands he inched her worn green t-shirt up and over her head, their lips parting only long enough for the soft cotton fabric to pass between them.

Her fingers made quick work of the button and zipper of his jeans, before her hands returned to the bare skin of his chest, caressing, tickling, scratching, kneading his flesh until his skin turned pink with anticipation; his urgent, ready, need, pressed against her belly.

She looked down, grinning. "So fast, Castle."

He moaned into her mouth, "It's you," he replied.

She could hear God whispering, reaching deep within her soul, telling her this, her with him, was worth every risk, every measured and deliberate act to defy the wall that existed within her, so that she could experience the perfection that is the most basic of human instincts.

Love.

She was suddenly overcome with an urgent sense of unrestrained desire, an immediate need for him, and in a flourish, she was out of her jeans and underwear and tugging at the waistband his jeans. Glancing up at him, her eyes swimming with lust, she pulled his jeans down, until they gathered at his ankles and he stepped out of them, then she hooked her thumbs beneath the hem of his boxers.

"Off!" She demanded, her voice hoarse and rough and threaded with hunger. He placed his hands on hers, and together they guided his boxers down, her eyes darting down to watch as his penis sprang free. She licked her lips involuntarily, and looked back up at him. He was staring at her, carnal affection bathing in the deep blue of his eyes, and his mouth captured hers, he kissed her hard but his lips were soft and he tucked her hair behind her ears while his tongue explored the sweet chamber of her mouth. She slipped his shirt off his shoulders and it fell in a heap behind them.

His hands mapped a chaotic path over her bare skin, finding the clasp of her bra, and deftly removed this last vestige of synthetic blend between them.

She clambered onto the table, her back arching, her body humming, he dipped down, taking one nipple into his mouth, sucking, nipping, pulling on it as she groaned and writhed beneath him, her fingers creating Zen-garden-like lines in his hair. Then he rose up, looking into her eyes, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

"You ready?"

"Ready," she replied, her arms braced on the table behind her for support.

"Okay, up," he instructed, and she lifted her legs straight up while he grabbed her calves. Then he placed her long, shapely, perfect legs on each side of his shoulders, and he looked down at her body as it glistened before him, bathed by the soft light of the overhead lamp. He slid his hands up along her thighs, his palms tracing her iridescent flesh. She felt a jolt of energy vibrate through her as his wrists hit the surf line of her hips.

He mapped her upper body, not missing an inch, as she threw her head back, her fingers turning white as they struggled to find purchase with the hard table. He curled his fingers around her biceps, and then lifted her arms until she had her fingers linked behind his neck.

She was in the perfect V.

He leaned forward, lifting his hips, and slowly guided himself into her, taking his time, aroused by the crimson of her cheeks, her parted lips, her eyes half-lidded and glassy. She moaned, her head gently rolling back until her long chestnut hair tickled her back, sending thousands of tiny shivers in a footrace down her spine.

"Ohhhhhh. God. Castle. That feels..." She rocked her hips, "...fucking incredible!" she finished.

He didn't make her wait, thank heavens, and he shoved inside of her fast and hard. Faster, and harder. In and out. And in. And out. So many times, and so fast that she thought she was going to spin out of control, so unaccustomed to her body responding in such a brutal and primal way.

And then he stilled. Expertly pulling almost completely out of her before easily, sowly, excruciatingly, agonizingly, sliding back in.

Their mouths met again, his tongue exploring, spreading her lips apart, seeking her tongue in an unpracticed, though perfectly coordinated, dance, all while he resumed a slow, deliberate cadence, increasing his pace only infinitesimally.

Her body pink and vibrating, her eyes closed, head thrown back, breasts heaving, nipples erect, he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep up. He felt a building, a gathering storm within, and he wanted her to come before he released it. He picked up his pace, whispering sexy nothings to her.

She opened her eyes, grinning at him, "Are you talking dirty, Castle?"

He growled. "Is it working?"

"Oh yes," she sighed, "It's, ahhhhh. It's working." Her breathing changed, becoming labored, thready, and she felt all of the blood in her body gather there, ready for sudden and sweet release.

Her rib cage expanded as her diaphragm dilated, and with barely a warning, the orgasm echoed throughout her body, from her curled painted toes, through the vee of her body, to the top of her head. She closed her eyes, a barely audible moan rising from her throat before a sound escaped her chest, originating from the deepest part of her, the most perfect, beautiful song that ever graced her lips, and it rose into the air between them, floating above them before vanishing into the ether.

Her body was a quivering mess, a satiated mass of pleasured flesh, and bone, and blood, shuddering beneath him. Her brain no longer had control over the muscles of her arms and legs and she was afraid she'd fall off the table. But he had her, held her, as her body shuddered and quaked and trembled against him, before finally calming, relaxing, recovering from the violent orgasm that had rippled through her.

And when she'd caught her breath, when her eyes had met his and her head had done that little nodding thing that always told him she was ready for him, he picked up his pace again, thrusting into her, gathering speed, feeling his own climax building, higher and higher, soaring, until, in a thunderous storm of pain and pleasure, he cried out, her name bouncing off the walls as he came.

She gripped him with strong but elastic muscles, coaxing with great discipline every last bit of the orgasm from him. Her lips finding his, diving in heart-first, reaching down from a well-hidden place that, despite her best efforts, he had managed to venture in.

And, then, spent, empty, he carefully pulled out of her and gently took her ankles in both hands and helped lower her feet to the floor. They coiled around each other and just stood there, bare naked on her cold dining room floor, arms and legs holding tightly, her head resting against the hard muscle and bone of his shoulder, her lips grazing his neck as she nuzzled against him.

And, something about the way she was leaning into him, her slight frame inexplicably heavy against his, made him want to protect her. He wanted her to know that she could stay there, nestled against him, for as long as she wanted, for as long as she needed. He would hold her, cradle her, he would protect her from the outside world. This was the place where she could be vulnerable and safe at the same time, and he desperately hoped she knew that.

As though reading his thoughts, she burrowed even further into him, a whispered sigh skidding past her lips, a soft shudder rippling throughout her body, and she purred against him.

"Mmmm, Castle. I think I like my present. I think I like it very much."

He held her tighter, their bodies quietly swaying in a semi-circle. "I'm glad," he chuckled.

She looked up at him, her eyes a playground of want and need and fun. "One down, Castle, ninety-nine to go. Think you can handle it?"

"If I can't, I'll die trying!" he promised.

She laughed, framing his face with her hands and peppering him with a series of small kisses. Then she led him by the hand to her kitchen counter.

"Let's see what the second position has to offer."

A/N: To see this position you can do a google search. Just type in "100 sex positions of the Kama Sutra", or find me on Twitter ( krdaniels) and I will be happy to give you the website link.