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2015-02-07
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In which someone remembers to lock the door

Summary:

Glee bubbled up in the form of a low chuckle as Kate slid onto his lap, resting her head on his shoulder and caressing his cheek. His lips parted readily to hers and they kissed lightly and slowly for a few minutes. To hell with anyone who might walk in - this was his wife, his love, and his personal badass detective, and they had nothing to be embarrassed over.

Castle and Beckett at his office. Napping. Yeah, right.

Notes:

Episode tag for 7x13, "I, Witness".

For E’s birthday. Since she’s created so much gorgeous art for us I thought I’d whip up (ha) a little office smut for her. Rock on. Inspired by this.

Work Text:

Castle had ached to touch her, hold her, kiss her, for so long, and even now, two years after coming together, there was a still, small, surprised voice that stirred in his head whenever she reached for him.

Me? the voice would whisper, incredulous. Me…she wants me…

Glee bubbled up in the form of a low chuckle as Kate slid onto his lap, resting her head on his shoulder and caressing his cheek. His lips parted readily to hers and they kissed lightly and slowly for a few minutes. To hell with anyone who might walk in - this was his wife, his love, and his personal badass detective, and they had nothing to be embarrassed over.

Castle was toying with the thought of pushing the limits of semi-public propriety when her lithe form was abruptly gone from his lap, and he couldn’t help making a sound of disbelief as Kate flitted out of the room.

He was about to state his opinion of playing hide and seek at a time like this when he heard the bolt on the outer door slide home.

Kate reappeared in the office doorway, closing the door quietly and bolting it as well, then came over to where Castle still sat.

"Not to sound cliche," she purred, "but where were we?"

This time, she pulled off her jacket before settling once more in his lap, in the same position as before. He wasted no time in getting his arms around her and his mouth on hers. Her hand was in his hair now, tugging and tickling, and he got pushy with lips and tongue. The sounds of soft wet kisses and the brush of hands over clothing fell lightly into the high-ceiling.

When Castle’s hand moved downward to grip Kate’s thigh, his left hand curled around her shoulders, supporting her under her arm, and his fingertips found the soft curve of her breast, eliciting a gasp and a slight shift of her position. A shift that brought his hand closer to trace the lines of her bra under her sheer blouse.

"Mmm-hmm," he hummed his approval, and she let her left hand drop from his head to the buttons on her blouse. His eyes were closed, but he could feel her slowly working one after another free. When she stopped, he looked down just as she took his hand from her thigh and laid it between her breasts, now hidden only by her bra.

Kate’s hand went down to brace herself on his knee; this was a wise move, because once Castle began to toy with the edges of her bra she arched up under his hand and nearly slid off his lap. He grinned a wicked grin and insinuated his hand under the cup, pushing it down and easing her breast out of its confinement.

She probably expected him to lean down to taste what he’d exposed, but instead his hand dropped back down to her thigh and his other hand wriggled inward to tease and prod at her bared breast, barely reaching as far as her nipple. Obligingly she shifted a little more and he caught the nipple between two fingertips and plucked and rolled while his mouth went back to ravaging hers.

So far, Castle was pleased with this balancing act. Now came the real test… Her belt came undone easily, and he unbuttoned and unzipped her slacks quickly, knowing she wouldn’t be distracted for long. She wasn’t.

"Castle, what are - I don’t think - "

For once, he didn’t care what she thought. Triple-tasking with his mouth and both hands, he slid his right palm under her slacks, over her panties, and cupped her between her legs.

"Come on, doll," he murmured against her lips. "Live dangerously."

By now she was panting, her free hand clutching at his shoulder, his knee, but she managed to mutter, “You better not let me fall, or so help me - “

He started rubbing slow circles over her mound even as he spread his knees and leaned back a little more. If there was anything Richard Castle was good at - well, besides writing blockbuster crime novels - it was sexual logistics. He was in the zone.

Kate was squirming in his arms, trying to open her thighs for his hand, and he guided her left leg up, bending it slightly as he turned the chair a little, so he could place her foot on the desk, braced against the edge. Now he raised his hand to her lips, pressing gently with two fingers, and she sucked them in and got them wet before he brought them swiftly down, under her panties this time, sinking into the hot valley between her folds.

Her moans were muffled when he closed his mouth over hers, his finger circling her clit, his other hand circling her nipple, feeling her breath deepening and her bottom grinding down into his lap. Her hand fumbled to unbutton his shirt, but he refused to be distracted, thrusting his tongue against hers and curling his finger up to rub delicately right on her clit.

When Kate cried out into his mouth and bucked under his hands, and he managed to not let her fall while goading her to what felt like a very thorough and satisfying climax, Castle felt a swell of pride - or maybe that was a rush of arousal, considering the iron ache between his legs. He rocked her a little as she came down, and when she opened her eyes he made a point of lifting his soaked fingers to his mouth and sucking her essence from them.

"Case closed," he gloated.

"I dunno, Castle," she grinned breathlessly. "Seems to me there’s still at least one loose end to tie up."

She wiggled her bottom a little and Castle winced.

"The tying up part sounds very - intriguing," he said. She eased herself off his lap and tidied her clothing, leaning on the desk and watching him adjust himself carefully.

"It won’t take long," Kate promised. "Can you stand?"

He stood, pushing the chair back, and groaned. “Gimme a minute. Can’t walk yet.”

"You don’t have to," she smirked. Folding her coat, she placed it on the floor where the chair had been - and went down on her knees on it, not quite under the desk but squarely in front of the fly of Castle’s pants. He could only stare dumbfounded as she unfastened his belt and pants and found the opening in his boxers. Then she looked up at him with the most sultry, lascivious look he’d ever seen, licked her lips, and reached to draw his dick out.

"Bend over," she told him. "Hands on the desk."

He would have stood on his head if she’d commanded it. Once in position, he realized he couldn’t see her with his shirt in the way, so he hastily unbuttoned it the rest of the way and let the tails frame his vision. The vision of his personal badass detective stretching her tongue out to lap at his tip while her palm cupped and rolled his balls through his underwear. When she closed her mouth over just the head, Castle moaned and shook with the effort not to thrust.

That seemed to give her ideas. She pulled his pants and boxers down around his thighs and wrapped her hand around his dick, not stroking but squeezing while she sucked the head and fondled his balls and rubbed circles over the hot skin behind them. He spread his legs wider and groaned and brought one hand to lie on her head, just touching her hair.

One of her hands let go of him and took the hand on her head, guiding it to the back of her neck, so he curled his palm behind her head and let it ride there, not pushing. Kate’s hand returned to his dick and she started to stroke him slowly.

Then she said, “Let go, babe. Just do what you feel,” and her mouth took him in again, sucking in a rhythm matching her strokes, taking him deeper each time. This encouraged him; he rocked into her mouth, his hand on her neck, his dick bumping the back of her throat.

The arm holding him up was trembling and he was close, so close, and she knew it, she always knew it, and when she grabbed his bare ass with both hands and squeezed, hard, it was like pulling a cork from a bottle. His body responded with raw, overwhelming release; he let his arm fold down onto the desk and his head fall onto it while his hips jerked and her nails dug into his skin and he felt her gulping him down.

She gently tucked him away and zipped him up, then got to her feet and picked up her coat like nothing had gone on here, move along, nothing to see. Castle took the coat from her, shook it out and helped her put it on, then remembered to button his shirt before grabbing his own jacket.

Pushing the chair into place at the desk, he paused to look down at it, then at his wife, who still looked kind of predatory.

"Every time I sit at this desk now, in this chair…" he began slowly.

Kate laughed and took his hand.

"I know, lover boy. I know."