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Tied And Mouth Fucked Tumblr
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Central Intelligence Agency - Confidential - Level 11 Access Only.
When she woke a few hours later, he was gone.
The ice was melting in a wet spot on his side of the bed.
Castle came back to Stone Farm some time after lunch the following day. She’d just managed to make toast again, but he was stumbling towards the barn. Like he wasn’t even going to come inside.
“Castle,” she called after him, taking a firm step off the back porch and towards him on the path.
He halted and turned to look at her.
He winced and stood there, his hands in his pockets. The scrape on his face was scabbed over, the black eye was fading, but now she saw the ugly rent in his shirt, and the bandages over his ribs.
“This is how your fucking father keeps you safe?” she growled, coming towards him.
“It’s work,” he said, and she could see the effort it took him to just say the words.
Fuck. “Okay, come on. Inside, Castle. Come inside.”
He swayed, but he followed her into the house and down the hall to the therapy room. She’d check his bandages and get him more ice and then - maybe - he’d stay put and rest.
She kept touching him. He wasn’t going to survive if she kept touching him. Her fingers were cool from the ice and she skimmed them along the terrible ache that bloomed across his chest, along his ribs, her eyes following the line of bruises.
“Oh, Castle,” she murmured, and her mouth was there, making his breath catch painfully. “Rick. Please don’t do this.”
“It’s work,” he said again, mindless with it. The work, the pain, but most of all the touch of her lips in an act of ablution at his skin, like she could wash him clean, purify him sacred.
She was sitting on the therapy table, her mouth at his chest and his body between the vee of her legs. He trembled with her every touch, tried not to look at her at all, tried so hard not to see the tumble of her hair - wild and tangled and drying curly around her head. He tried not to see any of it, not the slim fingers that touched him, not the sharp curve of her cheekbone, not the way her mouth moved downward and skimmed his belly button.
Without warning his cock twitched and began to harden, desire dumping through him in a hot, intense wave. Her mouth brushed the belt around his cargo pants and her teeth caught on the metal buckle. 
He swore and tilted his head back, tried to clear his mind, but then her mouth was nipping at the bare skin of his stomach, his abs tensing at the tease. 
“Beckett,” he groaned, rapidly losing it. The ice fell to the floor.
“It’s one bruise after another,” she sighed, and her breath skittered along his skin and made his cock throb. “You promised to be safe.”
Fuck, he wasn’t safe. This wasn’t safe. He was going to hurt her if she kept teasing him like this. She’d been shot in the back and he was fantasizing about holding her against him.
She slid his belt free and tugged him closer, his body taking a shambling step into hers, his upper thighs and hips hitting the therapy table with an inelegant crash. 
But Kate grunted and leaned back, pressed a hand to the table for balance, her head bowed and her breathing sharp. She had one hand still tucked into his waistband, but she was clutching tightly, not moving.
He lifted his hands to her, tried to understand, tried to fathom what was going on here, but she knocked his hand away and lifted her head, her eyes dark and still.
Fuck. Fuck, she couldn’t do this to him.
“I need you to stay alive,” she added. “I need you to come home to me, Castle.”
He couldn’t help gripping the back of her neck, trying to keep her still, keep her from doing whatever it was he could read in her eyes. “Beckett. You can’t-”
“I can. And I will. I want to give you something to think about while you’re out there, Castle. Think about my hands.” She was unzipping his pants. Holy shit, she was reaching inside his boxers and palming him. Fuck. 
“Beckett,” he panted, staring down at her on the therapy table. His ribs flared bright-hot with pain but she squeezed his semi-hard cock, pulled him free of his boxer briefs.
She rubbed her thumb along the head of his cock and lifted an eyebrow at him. “I want you to think about my mouth,” she said and leaned forward, slid her hot, wet mouth around him.
“ Kate ,” he gasped, knees buckling and hitting the side of the therapy table with a bang.
She scraped her teeth over his foreskin as she released him, and his cock sprang violently up, begging for her mouth.
He had one elbow on the padded table, propping him up, still trying to get his feet under him again when she reached in and cupped his balls, making him swear and his eyes roll back.
When he could breathe, when he could fucking see , he opened his eyes to find Beckett had laid down on her good side, her hand still circling him and bringing his cock even with her head.
Panic crawled across his face. She knew why - he couldn’t possibly stop himself if she pushed.
“Kate. No. I’ll hurt you.” He was trembling, his hands feathering at her shoulder, her cheek, even as she held his cock in her grip.
“You won’t hurt me. You’ve got bruised ribs and you look ready to fall flat on your face. I think I can handle you.”
“I - I won’t be able to - I can’t control…” He growled and swore again, tilting his head back, and she took her chance.
She nudged her nose into his erection, her palm cradling him, and she heard his strangled gasp and the noises she was ripping from him, deep and primal and needy.
He’d gotten himself off in the shower to the sound of her voice, and she’d wanted - so very badly - to reach out and be the hand around him, be the fist he pumped into, be the wet and tight cove for his body.
But she couldn’t do that quite yet.
She pushed her tongue out and licked his shaft, felt the surge of blood harden him that much more. He had no words now, but his hand had left her cheek to tangle in her hair. 
Holding herself at this angle was all she could really manage; he’d have to move if he wanted to her. She couldn’t do repetitive movement, but he could do it for them both. He could fuck her mouth, work his hips against her, let his cock slide in and out-
Fuck she was wet just thinking about it, and she’d never gotten off on this kind of thing before.
Kate squeezed him in warning and sealed her mouth around him.
He cursed and jerked his hips, a little thrust that rocked her because she hadn’t been expecting it, but she took it, she took it and went with it, let her tongue slide over him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Kate. Kate, baby, please. Oh, fuck. Fuck me. What are you doing to me?”
Not enough. She braced a hand at his upper thigh and came off of him wetly, looked up to find his eyes. He was wild and panicked and aroused as fuck , and she loved it. She loved doing it to him, and she was already wet.
“You’re gonna have to do it to me, Castle. You understand? You have to move for me, baby.”
“You’ll hurt me if you don’t. I want you, Castle, and you’ve got to move -” At that she squeezed his hip and opened her lips to him, licked slowly and wetly until he trembled and pushed his cock inside.
She felt him fill her mouth, salty and hot and so hard. She remembered what it felt like to be spread open by him, this feeling so strangely similar, and she shifted on the table as her wetness slicked between her thighs.
He moaned and his hips stuttered back, came forward, a sloppy and short jerk of movement that couldn’t possibly be doing it for him. She inhaled through her nose and pressed her tongue up against him until he was tight in her mouth, felt him surge a little into her, tasted his fluid seeping out.
She hollowed her cheeks as he withdrew, managed to rest her head on the therapy table as Castle set up a choked, hesitant rhythm. He was breathing hard, his hands braced and white-knuckled on the table, and she had his fucking cock in her mouth.
Fuck - his cock was pressing open her mouth. 
Holy shit, she’d had no idea. No idea at all. How fucking hot this would make her, how the feel of his cock trembling and pulsing as she scraped her teeth over him a little would make her restless and wanting and so damn in control . 
She pushed her free hand to his, worked her fingers hard into his closed fist, penetrating his grip just as his hips thrust shallowly into her mouth.
He whined in the back of his throat and she mimicked his sound, felt him tremble and his knees hit the therapy table again. She brought his hand to her cheek so he could feel her jaw work, her mouth sucking at him, and he cursed and gripped her neck, tangled in her hair. Fierce.
He had a rhythm now, one she could anticipate and brace herself for, and she sucked harder on him as he withdrew, let him slide easily and wetly back inside. He had his hand at the back of her neck and it helped keep her steady, and so she slid her own hand down her body, palmed her breast under her shirt. When se twisted her nipple between her fingers, his thrust stuttered into her mouth.
“Fuck, fuck, Kate,” he growled. “Touch - touch yourself, baby. Don’t wanna do this without you.”
She hummed around him and suddenly he was pushing deeper, hitting her gag reflex. She opened her throat around him, forced herself to swallow it back, but he was already withdrawing, moving shallowly again.
She couldn’t do anything about her own need, but she could push her fingers between her legs and get them wet.
She let him see her hand disappear down her shorts. Even as his cock was heavy against her tongue, filling her mouth. She sucked on him and pressed her fingers between her legs.
He groaned and his hips snapped. His hand at her neck kept her still, kept her body from bowing, and her mouth took him, so deep he hit the back of her throat.
He shouted, a terrible tension seizing his body. His grip on her neck was crippling. And then he cried out her name and ripped his cock from her mouth, ejaculated hard against the side of the table, his body crashing.
She kept her eyes open and on him, watched the flare of release and ecstasy twist his face, and he dropped his forehead to hers, breathing hard against her mouth.
Kate waited until he’d stopped trembling quite so hard, and then she snaked her tongue out and touched his lips. He growled and chased after her, pressed a kiss to her mouth.
She was so distracted by the close heat of his upper body draped over her head, the feel of his mouth on hers and the taste and scent of his sex, that she couldn’t stop the moan that rippled out of her when his fingers pressed over hers between her legs.
She mewled under their combined touch, and her back arched, and she cried out.
But Castle was sure as fuck going to figure out a way to make it good for her. He was sticky with his own come, but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t get her off as well.
Castle slid his arm under her neck and upper shoulders, hoisted himself onto the therapy table, cradling her head in his lap. His cock was half-hard again, even after that, and he tucked it away inside his boxers, laid her cheek against the inside of his thigh so she was still on her side.
He wriggled his fingers and her legs shifted restlessly. He drew her up a little more in his lap and the angle wasn’t perfect, but he could stroke between her legs, he could hit her clit with his middle finger, and she was already panting against his inner thigh.
Fuck, that was going to do it for him, wasn’t it?
Shit. He needed to control himself. Beckett first.
He curled his fingers in the tight, wet heat of her, felt her leg scissor hard against his hand. He grinned and used his other hand to stroke the hair back from her face, watch her eyes squeeze shut. No wonder she’d wanted him to fuck her mouth - fuck, fuck, he had fucked her fucking mouth-
This had to be one of their hottest encounters. Watching her unravel with the slightest touch of his fingers. He wanted so badly to go down on her, eat her out and feel her thighs squeeze around his head, but she couldn’t take it, her back, the wound - he’d have to make this work instead.
He hunched over her and pressed his lips to her cheek, and then he lifted up enough to start a slick, circular motion around her clit. He could press his arm against her hips a little and still her instinctive movement, and he used his free hand to palm her breast and squeeze, just as she’d done to herself.
She gasped and her teeth grazed his thigh.
Castle growled against the surge of blood to his cock again, retaliated by pressing his fingers harder in her folds. She whimpered and bit his thigh.
He pushed his fingers past that barrier and inside her, and she shivered. He caressed her breast and teased her nipple as he worked between her legs, steady thrusts that had her mewling at his thigh, sounds he’d never heard her make.
“Kate,” he murmured, tried to get her attention just enough so that she wouldn’t notice the way her orgasm was sneaking up on her. “Kate, sweetheart. Listen to me.”
She groaned and he pumped his fingers slowly inside of her, in and out, dragging his palm over her clit, steady and sure.
“Kate, honey,” he crooned, sliding his thumb around and around her nipple over her clothes, around and around and then brushing across it. “Hey, love. What you did to me. The way your mouth felt around my cock. How wet you are. Did that turn you on, Kate?”
She groaned out something against his thigh, panting now, the heat of her breath seeping through his pants.
“You’re so wet for me, Kate. I felt my cock hit the back of your throat, sweetheart. You swallowed and I felt your throat move around me like a muscle, like it does right here when I’m buried inside you.”
He pushed his fingers up hard into her and she was keening, a constant noise trembling from her mouth. He remembered what it felt like to be surrounded by that tight heat.
“You’re so close, Kate. My fingers aren’t nearly as good as your mouth was around me. Did you like it when I fisted my hand in your hair and pushed inside of you?”
And then she was gone, contracting hard around his fingers and her body jerking against the restraint of his arm. He milked it hard and sure, drawing out her orgasm with every pitch and roll of her hips as her mouth bit down on his thigh and he - forgive him - he couldn’t help the way his pelvis thrust a little against the soft curve of her neck.
She clamped her thighs down on his hand as his signal to stop, but he scraped his thumb nail over her clit. She yelled and came again, a short spurt that made her buck in his arms, and he pulled his hand out and steadied her, his body aligned with hers to keep her from jerking too much.
When it was over, when she was just breathing hard and lying limply in his arms, he ignored his own semi-aroused state and carefully stretched himself out on the table beside her. She draped over him, her body formless, her cheek pressed against his chest, and he ran his fingers through her hair to gather it off her neck.
She was sweaty and he was sticky and it was the therapy room, but he didn’t want to move just yet.
She hummed and he felt it all the way down to his cock. Shit, he was not going to be able to get that out of his head.
Damn, he should’ve said it first. “Jeez, understatement of the year, Kate Beckett.”
Before she could struggle up, he smoothed his hands down her sides and squeezed her ass, keeping her close. “You let me fuck your mouth. You asked me to fuck your mouth. I’m still half-hard just remembering it. Loving me… that doesn’t nearly begin to cover it.”
She huffed a laugh against his chest and her fingers stroked over his bicep. “That was the intention. Give you something to think about.”
“Hope I returned the favor. Gave you something to keep you warm while I’m gone,” he said, half cheekily, half truthfully.
“You mean you want me to think about how you touched me? How you made me come three times with your fingers?”
She laughed at that, her hand squeezing his arm. “Three. The first one I figured you probably missed because you just kept on going like it hadn’t happened. I was on the edge from the moment I had my mouth around you.”
He groaned and barely restrained the push of his hips up against her. “Keep talking like that and I’m gonna make you do it again.”
“Fuck, Beckett. You are such a tease.”
He could feel her grinning against him and he didn’t even care.
Her fingers suddenly moved inside to trace his ribs and he flinched. 
“That’s what I thought,” she murmured. “Sit up. I’m going to hurt you.”
“Like I hurt you? Fucking your mouth? Fuck, sorry, that’s just not gonna be far from my mind; I can’t help it. But seriously, I can take your weight on me for another ten minutes while we both get our strength back. I sit up now I might topple right onto the floor anyway.”
She sighed softly against him, but she didn’t try to move.
And yeah, every breath ached, but she had just - she’d just - he’d just-
They were gonna do that when she was healed. They were gonna have to do all kinds of that when she was healed.
She fell asleep on top of him, barely registered when he carried her in to bed.

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