For my favourite corn in the world.
Castle wakes up to the sound of running water, muted through the closed bathroom door. It's still early, based on the slash of morning light peeking through the curtains and he's tempted to close his eyes and drift back into sleep. He groans and turns over onto his stomach, hiding his face against his pillow. He doesn't know how Beckett does it, up and ready to go at the first light of dawn, especially after the night they just had.
He's exhausted, limbs both loose and sore at the same time, his joints aching from the over-exertion. They'd been a little enthusiastic, riding the remnants of the rush of adrenaline from their last solve, a little drunk from the two bottles of wine they'd polished off in celebration.
A little high on love.
The running water stops and the bathroom door creaks open, a whoosh of hot air entering the bedroom. He snuggles deeper into the pillow, body curling up under the heat of the sheets, preparing himself for what he knows is about to come.
"Wake up, stud," his wife breathes into his ear as he feels the bed move under the weight of her climbing into it. "I know you're not sleeping, babe."
He doesn't know how - he chalks it up to her being the best damn detective in the city - but she always knows. His blood sings at her presence, craves for her as she crawls over him. He feels her straddle his back, one knee on either side of his body and he presses his cheek deeper into the soft fluff of his pillow.
"But I'm sleeping, Beckett," he whines, despite the fact that he's already waking up, albeit slowly.
The wet ends of her hair drag up his bare body - they'd decided against putting clothes back on the night before - and it sends shivers down his spine, the cool droplets of water working wonders against his rapidly heating skin.
"C'mon, Castle, I have something to show you," she teases, fingers scratching a trail down his back. The contact is sinful, the fine hairs on his skin prickling with arousal that's slowly creeping through his veins.
Giving up his charade, he groans and shifts, turning his body over as Beckett rises up on her haunches to give him space.
"God, you're sexy," he manages, taking in the sight before him.
His wife sits astride him, thighs spread wide around his body, bare-chested and proud. Her breasts bounce as he bucks beneath her, playful and wicked as they both gasp at the nudge of his hips against her center.
Oh, she's - she's not completely naked there.
He drags his eyes up from her pert nipples and he's arrested by the beauty before him. She's grinning, fresh-faced from her shower, damp hair hanging down her shoulders, unruly and so very hot.
There's a smudge of what looks like toothpaste at the corner of her upturned lips and he chuckles, leaning up on his elbows so he can get a better look. She shifts, allowing him to sit upright against the headboard and when he's settled, she reclaims her spot on his lap, warm and pliant over him.
Castle sighs in contentment, palms reaching up her side, gliding up her smooth skin. His fingers brush against the side of breast in their trek upwards and he grins at her resulting shudder, eyebrows arched as he smirks, smug from knowing what he can do to her.
Leaning in, his tongue darts out and swipes at the spot on her cheek, nose nudging her jaw, basking in her sweet scent of cherries and vanilla. "Mmm, toothpaste," he murmurs, nuzzling the side of her face, knowing how much she likes the way his stubble grazes her skin.
Her laughter rings out in the silence of his bedroom, her head tilting back, exposing the creamy white skin of her neck to him.
"Toothpaste and Kate, delicious," he continues, nibbling down her throat, tongue slicking a wet trail to her collar bone.
He nips his way back up to her mouth, finally bestowing a proper good morning kiss on her. She exhales, breathy and arousing as she sucks on his lower lip. The sensation sends tingles down his spine, awareness spreading through every nerve ending in his body. Her teeth scrape against the soft flesh and he moans, parting his lips to let her have her way with him.
She's soft and silky against him, tongue probing incessantly, painting sin and want in his mouth. He's lost in her, lets her take control, happy to keep his palms splayed against her bare back, drawing love on her skin. Her nails find purchase in the skin at the back of his neck and every scrape is electric down his spine.
They've been married for months, been together more than a hundred times, and yet the simple act of making out with her, just like this, is still every bit as exciting as the first time he kissed her.
He's sure she can feel him between them, hard and heavy, but he lifts up into her anyway, makes his excitement known. He brushes up against her underwear, slides against the material and she groans, pressing her body against his, her hands slipping around his waist, nails digging into the flesh urging him on. "Castle, God, you had me twice last night."
"Can't get enough, never enough," he responds in between kisses. His thumb sneaks under the elastic of her underwear and he tugs on it, letting it snap back with a gentle slap against her skin. "Why the panties?"
"Oh, babe, wanted to show you," Beckett mumbles against his lips, shimmying backwards, eliciting a groan from his lips as he feels the damp heat slide down his thighs through the silk of her underwear. "Let me show you."
Her palms push against his pecs and she grins at him, wiggling her ass trying to draw his attention downwards.
"Beck-Kate-Kate," he stumbles over his words as his eyes finally register what he's seeing. The scrap of material between her thighs is bright red, silky and sexy. His fingers trace the lining, brushes over the front and his smile widens.
"Elektra panties," he whispers with reverence, awestruck eyes snapping back up to meet hers. "You're wearing superhero panties."
"Uh huh," Beckett nods, forehead bumping against his as they share a laugh, cocooned in their own little bubble. "So we can match when you're wearing your Batman boxers."
Joy streaks through him, heart fluttering, stumbling because his wife - his amazing wife is wearing Elektra underwear, and oh- she's oh, grasping him with her long fingers, curling around him-
"Fuck, Kate." He's panting, gasping for air as his world is reduced to where her hands are stroking him, wrapped around his tip, spreading liquid desire over his heated skin.
"That's the idea, lover," she says, teasing as her teeth scrapes down his jaw. "Are the panties doing it for you, Castle? Fuck me in my panties, babe."
She rises, knees dipping deeper into the sheets as her breasts glide up his chest. His hands travel down her side, one cupping her ass as the other drags a path down her body, finally resting against the damp silk between her legs.
He pulls on the elastic, fingers sliding through the slick wetness at her core before he nudges the material to the side.
They work well together, both at the precinct and in bed, and this time is no different. Her eyes drift down and he follows suit, watches as her she curls her fingers tighter around him, and slowly, oh so slowly, guides him into her.
They moan, voices dripping with dark pleasure as they both focus on his hard length pressing into her, bit by bit, disappearing from their view.
She's so tight around him, warm, and he sinks his teeth into her shoulder in an attempt to maintain some sense of control. He's fully sheathed in her heat, pulsing, throbbing and she squeezes, making him see stars.
"Kate, God, Kate, please!"
His desperate pleas seem to spur her on and she mutters expletives into his ear as she starts to move. Beckett rises as he thrusts up, moving in tandem, sliding and sinking, sweat forming on their skin.
They ride the wave of pleasure together, smooth and with well-practiced ease, whispers of love bubbling beneath the passionate cries that fall from their lips. Beckett digs her nails into his shoulder blades, arches into him, twists her hips in a way that sends him spiraling out of control, reeling-
Castle leans forward, changing the angle of his thrusts and Beckett trembles in his arms, thighs squeezing his body as she increases their pace.
Their eyes meet, dark and stormy, as he starts to lose control, bucking his hips, plunging deeper into her with every breathy moan. She clutches at him, claws at his back and it's her tell; she's close - and he's not too far behind her.
He sucks her lip between his, bites down as he slides into her one last time. With a primal grunt, he falls apart, spilling into her, his vision blurring, world slowing down until it only consists of him and her - them, and the repetition of his name on her tongue as she comes, hard.
Oh yeah, the Elektra panties - they definitely do it for him.
Many thanks to the wonderful ladies who read through this for me!