Perhaps it was just a shadow; the room was only occasionally brightened by another angry flash from Mother Nature and his eyes had yet to fully adjust. Still, he was afraid he was looking at a reminder of her earlier confession, a mark left behind when she nearly died, the beginning of a massive bruise forming just below the quiet cotton. But maybe it wasn't, or maybe he just didn't want to believe it.
The Final Frontier (Deleted Scene), a castle fanfic | FanFiction
He kissed the darkness and chastised himself for the selfishness that had allowed her to remain bare for too long. He scrambled to his feet and moved to pull the duvet and sheets aside, working around where she rested until there was room for her to scoot backward toward the pillows he'd adjusted. As she crawled beneath the covers, he stripped down to his boxers and joined her, years of attraction causing an incontrovertible pull. They curled to face each other, eyes locked and secrets shared.
His fingers brushed against her check and threaded through her wet hair to tug her closer. They opened their mouths to each other, as quickly in sync in his bed as they were anywhere else, hesitant kisses being neglected in favor of tasting the truth they'd long denied. He rolled her onto her back, one of his legs pressed between hers, and continued to tease with his tongue while she bantered back.
It was intoxicating; a familiar moan echoed from deep in her chest and he answered with one of his own, backing it up with the sharp drag of his teeth against her bottom lip. When he broke the kiss, she began to whimper her disapproval, but he silenced her by trailing the tip of his tongue along her jawline and she grasped the back of his head in a desperate attempt to retain some sort of control.
He felt her hot breath wash over his shoulder when he sucked on her earlobe, and couldn't help but thrust his hips downward when she dropped her hand to claw at his back. It was exactly the type of thing that would normally send him into a tangled and sweaty end to the evening, but he'd waited so, so long for her; it wasn't worth speeding up now. He returned to her mouth, slowing them both down and making it known that he wasn't in a hurry. She took several seconds to catch on, or maybe it simply took her that long to agree, but she finally let his tongue skate against hers more languidly.
It was a rare acquiescence from her, but it was a night already full of surprises, so he smiled into the kiss and let it be.
Their bodies had found a gentle rhythm, rolling as one. Satisfied that they were delightfully slowed, he pulled away once more, kissing his way down the long line of her neck and working toward the scar she'd bared to him by the front door.
What really happened on the Broadchurch Tinder date?
This time, when he was struck by her mottled skin, nobody could have convinced him it was an illusion of the shadows; she hadn't managed to hide the quick gasp of pain when his lips had touched her there and it didn't matter that he couldn't make out the details. It was clear that something, or somebody, had been wrapped quite dangerously around her throat. He stared for a long moment, then found a way to meet her tear-filled eyes, certain that his were just as affected. She simply shook her head and silently begged him not to ask any questions. His mind reeled at the realization that someone had gotten close enough to choke the life from her and the acknowledgement that the experience had driven her there.
He brought his fingertips to her neck and traced the bruises, finding himself swallowing back a lump full of both outrage and appreciation, and he watched her contain a sob of her own. He had to make a decision; they could either break down, weep in each other's arms until the sun rose again, or they could move forward, letting the darkness be absorbed by the storm clouds crying above them. She raised her head from the pillow and captured him for another long kiss, and the choice was made.
One of his hands eventually fell to her breast, cupping it tenderly and studying her reaction as he slid the pad of his thumb over her nipple. Her skin had already puckered in response to the way their bodies had been moving against each other, but now he could watch the arousal flicker across her face as he slowly applied more pressure; employing a bit more force, he rolled the peak and was rewarded with a plea for more.
He continued to observe each slow blink of her eyes, the swipe of her tongue over her lip. He listened for the hitch in her breathing, the tiny moans that tripped forward from the back of her throat. All it took was another subtle change in the way he touched her breasts, teasing one moment and committed the next. Both got equal play — he was nothing if not fair — though he soon figured out that her left side was slightly more sensitive, causing her to cry out a bit louder, to squirm a little more.
And god knows the real romance he shouldnt matter!
Eager to catch the next moan with his mouth, he lowered his head to hers and got lost once again. It had been hard enough to let go after their undercover kiss long ago; there was no way he'd be able to stop kissing her after knowing what it was like to feel her heartbeat tap its secrets into his chest. Then she rocked her hips into his and reminded him that there was still more of her to learn. He was happy to be her student. His tongue was still deep in her mouth when he began to sweep his hand along her side, stuttering almost imperceptibly when he came to the scar left by the surgery that had saved her life.
It made him as outraged and appreciative as the marks around her neck, but it wasn't the time to dwell on that either. He journeyed on, reveling in finding her sensitive spots along the way. Rolling away to make room for his curious fingers, he was struck by the heat between her legs, such a contrast to the painful chill of earlier. That kid used to force me to eat my veggies. Even if it had been Meredith. So, yes, if it were you giving birth to my child, I would want to have another one.
Kate could feel the tears filling her eyes as she considered his response. He wanted more kids. But not only that; he wanted more kids with her , only her. She's always wanted to have children when she was younger, before her mother died. But then, afterwards, she'd been too depressed to even think about it.
She couldn't be a mother to a child, knowing that she could be taken away from them, leaving them as depressed as she had felt when her own had been murdered. And what's more, she wouldn't know the first thing about being a mother, because her own wouldn't be there to help her. But now…now she had Richard Castle; the man whose books had gotten her through her mother's death; the man who'd been by her side nearly every single day for the last four years ; the man who'd saved her life or so he claims more times than she'd saved his, even though she was the one with the badge and the gun; the man who loved her with all his heart and has proven it to her at every possible second, even before they'd gotten together.
Knowing that she had such a man in her life, as well as her many other friends who'd become like a family to her, Kate was sure in her response. They were silent for a while longer and Kate was nearly asleep when she heard Castle's whispered question. Manhattan, as I've said earlier. I would still be attracted you if your face was disfigured in a horrible accident. I would most definitely still be attracted to you if you went bald. I might not like the fact that I can't run my hands through your hair anymore and I might miss the cute way it sometimes hangs in front of your eyes, but I would get over it.
Because I didn't fall in love with your hair; I fell in love with you.
I fell in love with your annoying habits, your childish quirks, your cocky attitude, your boyish smile, those beautiful blue eyes that seem to pierce right through me sometimes…I also fell in love with your fatherly side and how much you care for Alexis and Martha, your family. I fell in love with the man who has risked his life for me, killed for me, and who I know would do anything and everything to prove how much he loves me.
Do I like your hair?
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Of course I do; it's a good look for you," Castle chuckled, "but would I break up with you because some freak accident caused you to lose it all? Because I'm not in love with the way you look; I in love with you, all of you. And if your hair went, I would still be right here, ready with a toupee. When he pulled back, he was looking deep into her eyes. They fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each other's embrace, lips brushing, and warmth surrounding them. The issue of children could wait for another day, now that they knew it was definitely going to happen someday; tonight, the only person either cared about was the one currently wrapped in their arms.
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