100 Sex Positions of the Kama Sutra
By Dana Keylits

Chapter Eighteen: The Double Decker

"You're sure?" She asked, concern etched all over her face.

"I'm sure," he replied.

"I think you need to give it more time."

"I'm good, Kate. Strong. I can do this!"

She chewed the inside of her lip, holding the knife in mid-air, her eyes narrowed. "Castle, I don't want you hurting your back again."

"Kate, I can carry a lousy box of books down to your storage room," he answered.

"Yeah, but…."

"It's fine. Would you stop worrying?" He bent over to pick up the box.

She slammed the knife down on the cutting board, sending mushrooms and onions sailing off the counter and onto the floor. "Use your knees!" she barked.

He folded his legs, "I'm using my knees," he replied patiently. Lifting the box, he jostled it in his hands for a second before turning to look at her. "Beckett, if I can carry this box down to your storage room with no problems, then…" He raised an eyebrow, his meaning lingering in the air between them.

She made a face, picking up the errant mushrooms from the floor. "We'll see."

"I had no idea you could cook, Detective." Jordan Shaw stated, wiping the corner of her mouth with the cloth napkin and settling back in her chair, wine glass in hand.

"Oh, there's a lot about Beckett that most people don't know," Castle replied, stabbing a mushroom with his fork and shoveling it into his mouth. "She's like an onion."

Jordan raised an eyebrow.

"Lot's of layers," he clarified between bites.

"I see."

Kate shot Castle a warning glance, standing up to gather the dishes. "My mom was a great cook. She taught me how to make a few select dishes." She took Castle's plate and he chased her with his fork, scooping up the rest of the wild rice casserole and shoving it into his mouth before she could whisk the earthenware plate away. She smiled weakly at Jordan. "Beyond them, I'm rather useless."

"Don't believe her," Castle advised, his mouth full. "She's a great cook!"

Jordan eyed them both, a sly grin ascending her lips. "So, I take it you two have moved beyond the 'he observes me' stage?"

Castle held up one finger, finished chewing, swallowed, and nodded. "Yes," he glanced at Beckett who was watching him warily. "It took some convincing, but yes, we're together." He used a fork tine to pick a piece of rice from between his teeth. "You know, together, together. Meaning…"

"I know what together means, Mr. Castle" she assured him. "So," she directed her question to Kate. "Has this created any issues at the precinct?"

Kate shook her head as she finished rinsing the dish in her hand. "No, not really," she answered over her shoulder, shutting off the water. "We try to keep things discreet while we're there."

"Except when Beckett can't keep her hands off of me. Do you know how many times she's shoved me into the supply closet...?"

"So," Kate interrupted, shooting Castle a dirty look as she collected more dishes. "What have we got on the vics in Wyoming? Anything more than what we have on our vics?"

Jordan picked up her wine glass and stood up, she followed Kate to the kitchen island and parked on a stool. "Not much. Pretty much the same information I told you this afternoon. We still haven't been able to I.D. one of them. The other two," she waved her hand in the air, "…it's like they don't exist."

"Don't exist?" Castle asked, having followed Jordan to the kitchen. "What do you mean?"

"Meaning," Jordan began, her eyebrows arched, "…that on paper, these women don't exist. No bank accounts, no activity on their social security numbers, no known addresses, no next of kin, nothing."

"Ooh," Castle interrupted, his face serious as stone, "…maybe they're from another dimension!"

Jordan stared at him for a beat before returning her gaze to Kate. "I see some things have not changed?"

Kate planted her palms on the counter and rolled her eyes, nodding. No need to explain, Jordan already knew about Castle and his crazy theories.

"Anyway," she resumed, shooting Castle an amused look, "I'm assuming the same is true with the New York vics, although the fact that one of them has a family is helpful." She snapped her fingers, remembering. "Oh! I'm interviewing the ex-husband and her kids tomorrow," she finished the rest of her wine and set the glass down with a clank. "You want in?"

Kate nodded. "Yeah. I'll be there."

"Wait, we're just now getting around to interviewing them? It's been a week," Castle chimed in.

"They were out of town. Wanted to bury her in the family plot up in Minnesota."

"Ah," Castle nodded.

Jordan slipped off the stool, picking up her purse from the floor. "It'll be good to have you in on the interview, Kate, maybe we'll finally catch a break on this case." She slung her purse over one shoulder. "But, for now, if I have any hope of seeing my daughter before she goes to bed, I think it's time for me to head home." She nodded at Kate and grinned at Castle before following Kate to the door. "Thank you for dinner, by the way. It was delicious." She patted her stomach.

Kate smiled, "Oh, you're welcome. I'm glad you liked it."

Shaking Kate's hand, she replied, "I did. Very much." She looked at Castle, "Mr. Castle? Always a pleasure."

Castle gave her a curt nod. "See you tomorrow."

The dishes were done, the leftovers put away, and Kate was at her desk, going over all of the case evidence one more time in preparation for the family interviews tomorrow. Castle could tell she was avoiding him, finding every excuse not to go to bed. She was still worried, even though it had been a week since he'd hurt his back, that he couldn't handle the Kama Sutra. He had made it his mission tonight to convince her otherwise.

He sidled up behind her, grabbing the small chair in the corner to sit on, and placed both hands on her shoulders, kneading her tense muscles. He rolled her chair so she was between the vee of his legs. "See anything new?"

She sighed, leaning back, covering her eyes with one hand. "No, nothing." She craned her head to the side as he dug into her sore neck, circling the quadrangular muscles with attentive fingers, eliciting a grateful moan from her lips. She sat up, tucked her chin to her chest, giving him full access to her aching neck and shoulders.

He worked his magic, his fingers kneading into her tired muscles in all the right spots. He knew exactly where she held her tension, and the goose-bumps standing at attention on her arms told him he was on the right course.

After she had relaxed, her body going limp, her breathing even, he'd swept her hair to one side, his lips descending on her neck, kissing her softly. She shuddered, a gentle sigh escaping her lips. "Kate?" he whispered.

She opened one eye. "Hmmm?"

He peppered her with tiny little kisses, tracing a path from her neck to her earlobe, which he carefully took between his teeth before gently laving it with his tongue. He smiled at her muted gasp. His voice low, husky, seductive, he whispered, "I want you."

He sucked her earlobe.

One slender hand flew up, her fingers raking parallel lines through his hair. "Ohhhh, god," she breathed, shifting in her chair. "Castle, are you sure? I'm worried…"

He growled, "I'm sure."

She exhaled. "You're sure, sure?" He nibbled on her earlobe some more, his tongue darting out to fill the cavern of her ear and she shuddered again, her eyes rolling back in her head, every sinewy fiber of her body alerted to this change in mood. "Like, really sure?"

He was at her neck again, breathing in the delicious cherry-vanilla scent of her, his lips tracing a wet path along her tepid skin. "Mmm hmm," he moaned.


He stopped her words with his mouth, his tongue skirting her lips, darting in and out, weaving with her tongue in an unrehearsed tango that left them both feeling like they'd just been swept away. He swung her chair around so she faced him and then they stood together, his hands framing her face before their lips parted with an audible smack.

He leaned his forehead against hers, his breathing heavy, his breaths in and out matching the tempo and rhythm of her pulse. "I want you, Kate. I'm ready."

Her body vibrating, her senses charged, ready, wanting, she didn't need any more convincing. She purred, her gaze dropping to his lips, a gentle smile curving her mouth. "Let's go, then." And she turned around and sauntered to the bedroom, her hair falling loosely down her back, her hips swaying seductively. She disrobed as she walked, leaving a haphazard trail of her clothing on the floor for him to follow, like breadcrumbs on a mountain hike, and he hurried behind her, quickly divesting himself of his own wrinkled garments.

She came out of the bathroom, padding across the room, all long legs and flowing chestnut locks, not a stitch of clothing on her. He would never grow used to seeing her like this, so open, so willing, looking positively like a Greek goddess. Her beauty was imperfect, and although he appreciated her lines and curves, the softest parts of her, it was her way, her siren-like seduction, her keen intelligence, her attention to details, that made her so damn sexy!

She was like a lioness hunting for prey, the way she sidled up to him, crawling onto the bed on all fours, making her way up his body, her eyes locked on his, a seductive, almost feline-like hungeretched on her face. His response was immediate and she smiled, pausing briefly on her journey, to enjoy his arousal. Which had only grown with the quirk of her eyebrow, the playful lilt and rise of her lips as she whispered his name, and then bespoke, in that alluring, siren-esque way of hers, all of the dirty things she wanted to do to him.

She continued her cat-like ascent up his body, her lips and tongue exploring the taste and texture of his tepid flesh, her hands mapping a path over his hard lines and softer angles, her breasts brushing against him, their gumdrop nipples hard and insistent. And, as he watched her, the admiration swimming like liquid gold across his eyes, his body began to hum, to quake, in anticipation, desire, need.

She straddled him on all fours, her lips feathered against the column of his throat, hovering, waiting, just the slightest touch, like a hummingbird, and he lost his breath. A girlish giggle rose from her chest and she ended his torture with the firm press of her lips on his flesh, her tongue darting out to lick him.

She felt his erection against her thigh and she reached between them with one slender hand, taking him firmly in her grasp, stroking him slowly, gently, like she would a baby bird, as she kissed her way up his throat, his jaw line, her mouth capturing his in a foolish, dizzying kiss. She savored the sounds coming from his chest, the mewling almost puppyish whimpers and a kittenish grin graced her lips.

"Last chance to back out, Castle," she warned.

He growled.

She took that as a no.

He'd closed his eyes and when he opened them again, startled by her sudden movement, she'd turned around, her back to him, her knees bent, her peach-shaped ass straddling his hardened arousal, and he held his breath, reaching out with trembling fingers to trace her spine, her skin warm, wet, practically vibrating.

It took him a minute to realize what she was doing, and then, like a bolt of lightening, he remembered.

The Double Decker.

She held the length of him between her legs, her outer lips coasting him with her wetness, his erection trapped between her hands and pelvis, and he closed his eyes and moaned, a litany of forbidden desires spilling from his lips. Then, with the skill of an ageing Geisha, she rose up, his tip barely touching her entrance, flirting with it, sliding it over her hardened clit, and then slowly, gradually, she lowered herself onto him, her body stretching to accommodate his depth and girth, gripping him with strong but elastic muscles.

He moaned, his eyes fluttering shut and then opening, his pupils dilated, his baby blue's laced with midnight indigo as he took her in. Her back was arched, her hair spilling down her delicate spine, and his gaze dropped to the place where they were joined. He exhaled, slowly, deliberately, watching her as she gripped him, sliding him, with a masters precision, in and out of her, her tempo measured, slow, deliberate. His erection glistened from her wetness, and it hit him like a tsunami, his attraction, his devotion, to her. It was so complete, so consuming, and at moments like this, when they were together like this, it rippled through every single part of him, every hair and fiber, pore and cell, and he was sure that their collective carnal energy could tilt the world off its axis.

His orgasm was building, so was hers, he could tell, so familiar was he with the way she moved and breathed, the subtle changes in the way her muscles compressed and released him, the circle of her hips, the flush of her skin. She reached behind her with both hands, her palms flat on the mattress beside him, and slowly lowered herself so that her head was cradled in the crook of his neck, her legs extended in front of her, her knees bent, her toes curling, digging into his calves. He brought his arms around to her front, one hand reaching low, the other high, and she let slip a barely audible 'ohhhhh,' before he resumed their metronomic gyrations.

It was an awkward position and Kate felt completely vulnerable, his greedy, nimble hand on her breast, the other expertly coaxing her clit, all while he moved in and out of her. The tickle in her belly pulsed, its concentric arc growing wider and wider with each contraction, until it had consumed her entire being and she was vibrating helplessly against him.

He had his mouth at her ear, his whispers garbled and incoherent, but she understood him, agreed with him, their a capella moans rising above them in a holy chorus, a talisman against the darker days ahead.

She tried to keep her balance, but the orgasm was coming and her feet kept slipping off his calves, their bodies now so slick with sweat; she felt like a slippery fish.

His fingers of one hand pulling on her nipple, twisting and teasing, massaging her breast, the fingers of the other circling her clit, coaxing her climax, her penultimate cries a harbinger of the explosion to come.

And, then she came. Shuddering, screaming, writhing, his name rushing past her lips and echoing around the small room, bouncing from the walls, joining their carnal chorus from minutes before.

When she had calmed, the rise and fall of her chest slowing, her pulse returning to normal, he tried to increase his pace, but their position, and the slickness of their bodies, made it hard for him, he kept slipping out of her and she had to keep guiding him back in.

Finally, with a frustrated grunt and a 'fuck,' he grabbed her around the middle and flipped them, so now she was face down on the bed, and he was on top of her.

And, still inside of her.

He set a punishing rhythm and it wasn't long before her name came rushing past his lips and he spilled into her like a stupefied adolescent.

"God, Kate, fuck."

And, he collapsed beside her on the bed, both of them tummy-down, facing each other. He reached over and moved the errant curls of hair that had fallen over her face, and saw that she was smiling, staring at him with adoring eyes.

"How's your back?" She asked.

"Ready for round two," he answered.

A/N: I am so sorry to all of you who have left reviews on the last chapter. I really wanted to respond to all of you individually, but work has been CRAZY and I didn't want to delay posting a new chapter until I'd replied to all of you. So, please accept my apologies and know that I am eternally grateful for your comments. I promise, I will catch up with you all this weekend!

Also, I heard you on the last chapter. Some of you want warnings if it's not a Caskett chapter. I'm not a big fan of spoilers, I think in a fic like this, part of the enjoyment is in NOT knowing what's coming. However, for those of you who feel strongly about this, I've come up with a compromise. I will post a warning, but it will be in code. To decode it, you just replace a with z, b with y, and so forth. Type the alphabet forwards, then beneath that type it backwards, and you will have the key to the secret code. Okay? Let's try it. Can you decode this message? "Gszmp blf "