Tags anon is talking about:
#I want to know if they’ve had angry sex yet #not I hate that I find you attractive sex #but real #I love you so much I could kill you right now sex #raw and primal and utterly unrestrained #desperate to possess each other the only way they can #leaving them sore and embarrassed in the most delicious way the morning after. (via howthisworks-caskett)
“You should have woken me.”
Kate glances up from the sink of dirty dishes to see him watching her from the armchair in the living room, his eyes hardened, less playful like they had been at in the elevator at the precinct, or on her couch before their shared dinner, and she instantly knows why at his words. They haven’t had much time to talk since she left him in the early hours of the morning to go after Bracken on her own, and she knew this was coming.
She doesn’t let go, she doesn’t back down, and neither does he.
“I wanted to protect you,” she sighs, turning her attention away from the half cleaned plates and coffee mugs in favor of him.
She told him that he was all she wanted, that he was her first choice, and so far, she hasn’t exactly done a fine job of proving it.
“By leaving me, your partner, to face the Dragon on your own? Do you really trust me to have your back or are you just humoring me?”
“Castle,” she sighs, but he stands from the furniture before she can speak another word, before she can even think of a way to reassure him that that isn’t true.
His face darkens as he comes towards, eyes clouding the same way they had only a couple of nights ago when she showed up on his doorsteps, lightning flashing through his irises despite the clear night sky outside her windows. He corners her by the sink, placing a hand on either side of her waist, boxing her in.
“Regardless, I am definitely more than a partner now, Beckett.” The words echo their last fight, the one that happened here in her apartment, and have her arching forward, desperate to forget that day, how much she hurt him. But Castle holds himself away from her, evoking a growl from low in her throat, the growing yearning in her body fierce in its demand for the newfound pleasure of having him. “Don’t let me into your bed and then leave me to wake with cold sheets.”
“Castle,” she groans, disregarding the lack of contact and fisting her hands in his shirt, yanking him forward until his thigh is wedged between both of hers, the heat of his flesh radiating from beneath the fabric of his jeans, the pressure of the strong muscle sending sparks traveling through her veins. “I’m sorry.”
The hardened expression doesn’t leave his face, the hurricane in his eyes doesn’t clear, but his hips rock forward, evidence of his want for her pressing against her pelvis, and Kate jerks, the friction spreading hot and fast.