92If you don't like to read M-rated stories, please skip forward this chapter.
Rick and Kate had just come from a dinner out. Their relationship was carrying now some 5 months of dating and they were happy with each other.
"Today's to my place." She whispered into his ear on the way to the car.
She took off the coat and he took it from her hand, hanging both his and hers on the coat hanger while she threw the keys on top of the small table in front of the couch. He kicked the door and hugged her from behind, speaking into her ear.
"We're at your place. What's next, detective?"
They were walking to the bedroom and he just kept on kissing her neck and nibbling her earlobe, making her moan and giggle. One of his hands was climbing up underneath her purple v-neck sweater. They didn't make it to the bedroom just yet, because he pressed his body against hers, pinning her on the wall and covered her mouth in kisses.
Her hand ripped wide open his shirt from up to down his chest, unbuttoning all the buttons without tearing off a single one. Her hands slid down his shoulders, dragging the black shirt down to the ground. In the same instant, he stripped off her shirt and threw it behind him, making their bodies' warmth scrape together.
By this time, while her hands were wandering his naked back and his neck, she got rid of the high heeled shoes and she had to stand on tiptoe to reach his lips. His both hands went down to her buttocks and he wrapped her legs around his hips, carrying her to the bedroom, while still hungrily devouring her neck. He laid her over bed and straddled on his knees between her hips, kissing her from her belly, up and down her chest. She was arching her body against him as his hand was on her back, trying to unhooked the clasp of her bra.
He was having a hard time and he couldn't get rid off her bra. She took then command. She unhooked his belt, undid the zipper and took off his jeans in such speed that the shoes and the socks left together. Her hands slid up his organ and she started delivering kisses on his torso, her hair tickling his chest. All of his muscles contracted and he held his breathe until she laid over him. Now he easily unhooked her bra and sat, having her chest uncovered of any piece of clothe.
She nibbled his earlobe and her arms were pressing his head against her chest, where he was kissing her, as his hands undid her jeans. His back was getting red with the traces of her nail scratch. She forced them to lie down on bed again so she could take off the pants and just then he rolled over her again. His hand were rested on her waist as he unhurriedly traced down her body with sounding pecks, one of them right over her scar. That made her chest raise and she expelled the air in a sob; she felt his breathe against the wound and his lips trembling. Since their first time together and up until their last, that spot would always be the most significant and meaningful place to deliver a kiss.
He continued his way down, after taking a short break, keep on trailing the kisses down her, to her tummy. She shrunk one leg at the time, as he dedicated his mouth's attention to each one while his hand rambled the other thigh's skin, soft as velvet, so as it feels the rest of her body. He slowly took off her panties, took off his underwear as well and locked her eyes on her before joining them together. He entered her all at once, but slowly and didn't move. He gave her time to accommodate to the feeling of him inside her and made sure to keep staring into her eyes. He kisses every inch of skin he can, her lips, her face, her neck and her chest, but without moving too much, knowing that he could hurt her by moving without her being ready. They were holding each other as close as it is humanly close; not even a breeze could run through their so clasped and heated bodies.
His hands were on the back of her shoulders, her arms were wrapping him right above his shoulders too and fixing her eyes on his, only one thought came across her mind: he, inside her, that man that was now moving inside was the only one who could make her feel powerless, and she didn't care. He was the only one who she allowed to take full control of her; he was the one who made Kate Beckett want to feel helpless and fragile on his hands. His pace could seem torturously slow for some other woman who would beg him to hurry up, but she didn't mind. He could make her beg sometimes, just out of fun (because he's Richard "playfully" Castle for God sake's!), but the rhythm was just fine because he was all so electrifying that she could reach the peek in mere minutes.
His tongue, teeth and lips were on her neck and she was gasping unashamedly against his ears. When he delivered a single harder thrust, she went over the edge, breathless, clutching his body on hers, arching hers against his. Her knees spiked him on the edge of his chest. His first name came out of her mouth on a moan, in a way he had never heard before from any other woman. At least not as beautifully, passionately and fulfilled as she let it out. The other women screamed it out over and over again; she only said it once, but it was enough to make him follow her over the edge, burying his head on her neck, letting out her name on breath as well.
Her legs fell apart, trembling and she kissed over and over again his neck and shoulder, like if she was thanking him for such bliss. He pulled himself out of her carefully, still trying to come back to his senses but went for another journey, kissing every inch of her all over again. If he had barely got his breath back, she didn't. Every kiss he was putting on her was making her tremble even more. Good Lord, if any other man had made her feel like that before. He already knew the route of her body and yet he always found a new thing about her. She really was a mystery he was never going to solve. For more familiar she could taste and feel, he'd always find her uncharted.
He placed a slow, sweet, long and deep kiss on her lips and rested his forehead on hers. A grin took over her expression, the most beautiful grin he has ever seen in his whole life and that made him put a smooch her cheeks, then on the tip of her nose, on her forehead, on her chin, even on her eyelids. The only thing the woman could do was smile senseless, thanking for having him on her life. There was not going to be any other man to who she'd give in. She didn't let him move from the top of her. She liked the feeling of his weight over her, feeling like an unshaken rock that would protect her from anything and anyone. And indeed he was her solid rock, her solid ground. They were each other's anchor, each other's North Star.
They fell asleep, still wrapped on each other. His hands were still on the back of her shoulders, her arms were still wrapping him right above his shoulders too. The rising sun will illuminate them by the morning and he'll be the first one to awake up, dragging her in arms to underneath the bed sheets, cuddling her on his chest. But the sleep will not hit him any longer as he would be gazing her sleeping figure. The only things left for him to do will be muffle a kiss on her hair and get up to make breakfast. He'll be wearing nothing but his underwear while cooking. The smell of hot coffee and recently made pancakes will come to her and she'll get up, covering her black underwear with his black shirt.
If you did read this, please review...They make me happy and I'm having many.