A/N: This is directly tied to the first chapter of this fic (Almost Famous) and assumes that there's an established relationship at this point. This will be the last chapter of this little M-rated adventure, thanks for all the support along the way.

Special thanks to Ky for the super fast beta.

For Bee. You can quit bugging me for the rest of this now.

Lucky Stiff

They've been together for a number of months now and he's seen so many sides of her, more than he even dreamed she had. Playful and mischievous, devastatingly sexy, affectionate to the point of sappy, passionately angry or passionately loving, and he's adored them all.

But this one in front of him, this free-flowing being swaying her hips with abandon? This one is new. And oh, so hot. So achingly hot.

The dress was bad enough, had a growl escaping his throat as she exited the bathroom, pleated black satin clinging to her every curve. She laughed and pushed him off when he spanned a hand over a hip, dipped his head to taste her neck, his other hand caressing the stands of her hair he had brushed back.

"We don't have time for this," she admonished, but her voice held no anger, actually had a note of longing in it.

And he wanted to push her, insist they had at least a minute but he knew that it would be much, much longer than that if he started anything. He sighed and let her go, her hand rising to sweep her fingertips along his jaw as she went, and he had to clench his hands into fists to not pull her against him and meld his mouth to hers.

She was right to insist on driving because, for one, there's no way that he could have pulled off that entrance but mostly because that way he got to watch her hair dance in the wind, her eyes glitter with excitement, the tip of her tongue trapped between her teeth as she hit the accelerator.

And now she's sashaying towards him, pressing right up against his front with a full body undulation, all the blood in his body rushing straight for his groin. He's actually grateful for the fact that his arms feel too weak to move because he would have them around her in a moment and drag her straight into one of the many dark corners this club seems to specialize in. He'd pin her against the wall, hike the dress up around her hips and drive into her until she sunk her teeth into his shoulder, muffling her cries against his skin. He'll have to keep this little idea in mind for a future outing.

She runs a hand up his chest, curves her fingers around the back of his neck and lifts her mouth to his ear. "Get us some drinks and keep your eyes peeled for Oz, okay?"

It takes him a moment to put the words together into something that makes sense because he actually forgot that they're here for a case. But she's all business, voice steady, steps sure. She turns to walk away, her hand sliding in the reverse of its earlier path and he has this sudden, childish need to knock her off her game a little. He grasps her wrist as her fingers are about drop from his blazer and tugs her back to him, cups a hand along her jaw and makes a rough claim to her mouth, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth and letting her skin scrape along the edges as he pulls back. Her eyes open wide to meet his, her pupils fathomless, and she draws in a breath like she's drowning. It reminds him of their first time and that case at the male strip club when she shoved him against a wall, kissed him when he was least expecting it and then left him there in a stupor.

She deserves payback for that. And she is getting it if the way her hand is twisted into his shirt like a lifeline is any indication. Her eyes clear and they narrow at him in something that she probably thinks is a glare but he is still far too proud of himself to be affected by it.

"Let me get those drinks," he says, his voice light, a smile that he knows is too smug –but he can't turn off- curling his mouth.

She huffs a laugh out and shakes her head at him before turning away and melting into the crowd, people parting easily for her, her presence undeniable. He watches until he loses her brunette curls in the fray and only then does he release a breath he didn't even realize he was holding.

He was trying to give her some payback but he wasn't entirely kind to himself in the process.

They hand Oz and his body guard off to the officers out front and she asks for her phone as they wait for the Ferrari to be brought around by the valet.

"Espo, you have a couple of visitors heading your way. Let them cool off in the box for a little while, I gotta go home and change."

Change. That means that she needs to take that dress off. And he knows just the man to help.

He crowds at her back as she finishes the call, a palm resting heavy on each of her hips. "I've been wondering about something all night," he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he speaks.

A shiver ripples through her and she turns her face toward him, glancing at him through her lashes. "What's that?" she asks, her voice thick with lust.

"The last time you were in a dress this sexy, your underwear matched. I'm curious to know if it does again."

The car pulls up as he's speaking and she doesn't answer, just throws him a heated look over her shoulder before taking the keys from the attendant and sliding into the driver's seat.

He's impressed with himself that he's cognizant enough to tip the man.

It does.

She slides the zipper down and lets the dress pool to the floor the moment they step into his bedroom, revealing the black satin bra and panties.

"So, to answer your query from earlier," she starts, the rest of what she might have said muffled by his mouth on hers because he cannot wait one moment longer.

The kiss falls apart under her grin, so obviously pleased with herself and he laughs at her, a soft chuckle curling in the space between them. The sound seizes in his throat when her teeth scrape against his jaw, a soothing press of her lips in their wake. She makes her way to his neck, teeth and tongue and lips mapping a trail down to his chest, her fingers flicking open the buttons of his shirt to continue her path. He clutches at her, his hands roaming endlessly to touch as much of her as possible.

He bumps up against the bed, dropping to sit at the edge, his hands sliding down her sides, past her hips, settling against her thighs as she remains standing. Towering over him, really, because she's still in her shoes, the combination of the heels and her current state of undress blooming arousal in his groin. He rakes his eyes up the endless line of her legs, the creamy plane of her stomach, the valley of her breasts, the graceful arch of her throat, finally lifting his eyes to meet hers. She's watching him with amusement, her eyes glittering.

"Enjoying the view?" she asks.

"Four star accommodations, would recommend," he quips.

She raises an eyebrow at him. "To whom?"

"Okay, first of all, no one, I want exclusive use of this resort, thank you very much." She makes an indignant noise and he knows that he's going to pay for that one but continues on before she can voice protest, "Second of all, you are so hot when you use whom correctly."

She shakes her head at him for that, the indignation replaced with that glittering amusement of earlier, and she swoops down to kiss him, her hands dropping to complete her task of opening his shirt. She sinks to her knees in front of him as she gets to the last few buttons, her lips still insistent against his, her tongue stroking inside his mouth in some attempt to be closer to him. Her fingers move to the button and zipper of his pants, undoing them and sliding her hand in his boxers so quickly that she has her hand wrapped around him before he realizes what she was doing. He breaks away from her with a groan, the sensation of her slender fingers around his length effectively robbing his brain of all logical thought.

He tugs at her to join him on the bed but she shakes her head at him, lowering her mouth to his chest, dropping open mouth kisses down his sternum, his stomach, moving lower and lower and he drops his head back as she pulls his erection free of the clothing. Her kisses don't stop; she presses one to his base and then continues up his shaft, adding presses of her tongue as well. He breathes heavily through the onslaught of his firing nerves, his hands gripped around the edge of mattress so tight that his joints protest.

And then her mouth is at his tip, her tongue spiraling around the velvety skin, her lips following behind and she's taking him into her mouth, enveloping him in moist heat and oh god, this woman will one day be his undoing and it will be the best day of his life.

Her hand and her mouth work together, one of them touching every inch of him at all times, her hand twisting, her mouth sucking and sliding, her tongue keeping constant pressure all the while. He rides the waves of pleasure, her movements cresting him higher and then gentling to bring him back down but there's only so much he can take. He slides a hand in her hair, grazes his nails over her scalp. The action makes her hum, the vibrations from her throat shooting bright bursts through his body and it's almost over in that moment. The hand in her hair tightens and that gets her attention, causes her to slide her lips from him with a soft pop, her eyes flicking up to him in question.

"I know that we don't have time for a round two and I have really got to be inside you right now," he pants out.

"Weren't you just…?" she trails off with a tease in her voice and a glint in her eye.

He growls and leans down to capture her lips, the kiss a little harsh, a lot lustful. She shimmies out of her underwear even as her lips paint over his until she has the fabric at her knees and then she pulls away from him regretfully as she stands and lets them drop to the floor, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra and shed it as well. He wriggles out of his pants and boxers – much less elegantly than her exit from her clothing – kicking them off the ends of his feet and hooking an arm around her waist to bring her with him onto the bed. She kneels over him, her knees bracketing his hips but before she can settle over him, he rolls them over. He wants the advantage tonight; he wants to be in control. And she lets him. He loves that she lets him. Out there, on a case, she's in charge, it's her lead he follows but when it's just them, she relinquishes some of that hard won control because she trusts him. And damn if that trust doesn't just make him love her more.

She raises an eyebrow at him but doesn't say anything; he knows that she knows what he's doing. He sits up on his knees for a moment, finally shedding the button down that she had long ago opened, the cotton stifling on his overheated skin. He leans over her again, diving straight for her mouth and she's open and ready for him, her tongue slicking over his greedily. He reaches between her legs and finds her folds drenched with arousal, mirrored moans rumbling from both of them as he slips his fingers through her, dips an experimental finger inside.

"Stop teasing," she says on a gasp, her hips bucking up to meet his hand.

"Just making sure you're ready," he replies with a grin as he removes his hand and positions himself at her entrance.

"Please," she scoffs, "with the way you've been looking at me all night, I've been ready since we got out of the car at the club."

He kisses her for her honestly, deep and hard for a long moment before sliding his full length inside her. She breaks away, her head pressing back into the pillow and a long "yesssssss" hissing from between her teeth. He heeds their limited time frame (and his burning need), his hips pumping in a steady rhythm, the moans and cries falling from her lips only urging him on. She meets him stroke for stroke, their tandem movements racing them to the finish.

"Kate, are you…?" he chokes out, his release a spring coiled tight in wait.

She curls her fingers around his neck and raises up to press a sloppy kiss to his mouth, murmurs, "Let go, Castle" against his lips, her inner walls tightening against him with her words, her hand going slack and falling with her back to the mattress as her orgasm overtakes her. He releases the air that he had been keeping so controlled in his lungs, a deep groan accompanying the exhale as the tidal wave of pleasure roars through him. He collapses next to her as he comes down, gasps of air lengthening to actual breaths. His vision clears to find Kate laying her side, watching him with a contented smile curving her lips. She leans over to kiss him briefly before moving to roll off the bed.

"Hey, where are you going?" he protests, sitting up to see her pull a fresh pair of underwear out of her drawer in his dresser, the action making his heart flutter ridiculously. Her drawer.

"We do still have a suspect to interrogate, remember?" she answers with a lift of an eyebrow while she makes her way to the closet, stooping to pick up her dress on the way.

"Oh yeah, that," he mutters as he flops back on the bed.

"Sure took a big step down in the wardrobe department," Oz comments when they enter the interrogation room.

Castle tries to hide his agreeing scoff in a clearing of his throat but from the look Kate shoots his way, he is clearly unconvincing.

At least he knows he'll be there when she changes out of this outfit as well.

I'd love to know what you think.