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foreseen circumstance

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It's not that Chuck was looking forward to seducing a hot enemy agent. After all, Sasha Banacek hadn't worked out so well, and Carina could practically twist him into a knot and finish him off as an appetizer. When Beckman finished uploading their target information and the image of the sultry brunette enemy agent sharpened to perfect clarity on the screen, Chuck markedly didn't glance over at Sarah, afraid she would quirk her eyebrows up, noticing how this girl was definitely his type.

"So Walker will be taking point on this," Casey said in his gruff voice.

"Look, I know seducing a beautiful woman who isn't my girlfriend isn't exactly my forte," Chuck began.

"Especially when the woman in question doesn't prefer the company of men," Casey interrupted.

Sarah shot Chuck a brief sympathetic glance. "It'll be short. In and out."

Casey smirked.

Chuck shifted in his seat.

The agent was going by the name Ava Stryker ("Very original," Casey had commented dryly) and they found her easily enough. Before she walked in, smoothing her short dress over her thighs, Sarah had kissed Chuck hard, fingers sliding down the cup of his ear, whispering reassurance that Chuck couldn't quite believe.

It took Sarah forty-seven minutes and three drinks before she was following Ava up to her room. From the room next door Casey adjusted the cam while Chuck idly, a fluttery weightlessness in his stomach, pulled up the feed from the elevator and saw his girlfriend wrapped around another woman, a red-nailed hand on Sarah's ass, raking down to find the hem of her dress.

Chuck felt sick. And jealous. And, he had to admit when his pants suddenly felt tight at his crotch, turned on at the sight.

"I don't do this all the time," Sarah giggled nervously as the door swung shut behind her and Ava, and Casey switched to their cam feed. They were looking for a vial, an ampule, a tablet of a new designer drug, one that had been stolen from a CIA testing facility twelve hours before.

But Chuck couldn't keep his eyes off Sarah, the way her mouth tightened just a little when Ava looked away, the way her palm slid over her dress. The way she shivered and sucked Ava's lower lip into her mouth when Ava grabbed her breast, the movement of her hips when Ava slid her knee between Sarah's legs and shoved her back toward the bed.

"Maybe we should get a bottle of vodka sent up," Sarah said when she broke for air.

Vodka. Chuck nodded at Casey, and Casey shot him a knowing, semi disgusted look before he selected a bottle of midgrade vodka from their makeshift room service setup.

In the time between Ava placed the call (which they intercepted immediately, of course) and when Chuck flashed on the location of the ampule and knocked on the room's door with the requested vodka bottle in his fist, Chuck had almost decided he didn't really want to interrupt. Not really. And then Ava opened the door, her lipstick smeared, one strap of her dress falling down, and Sarah glanced over at him from the bed, her skirt hiked up, one knee up and the other sprawled open on the bed, hair tousled and lips kissed to a pouty flush.

His girlfriend. His.

Chuck intercepted a whirling kick and put Ava down with a series of well-timed punches, as Sarah sat up, pulling her dress back down.

"Thanks."

In Castle, after they reported back to Beckman that the ampule was safely in their custody, and Ava was turned over to a transport team, Casey ducked out, leaving Chuck and Sarah alone.

"So." Chuck cleared his throat. "Uh, I..."

Sarah turned to him, her brows drawn together, fingers nervously tapping on the desk. "I'm sorry. But, you know, I've had to watch you flirt with other girls before, and..."

"Other girls," Chuck repeated. "Because I... I mean, you seemed really... into what was going on..."

A look Chuck couldn't quite define flashed over Sarah's face, and she glanced pointedly down at his crotch, then back up to his face, from beneath her lashes. "And maybe you got a little turned on by it," she said, her voice low and sultry.

"That isn't the point," Chuck said, feeling that he had very definitely lost the argument before it had even begun.

"Do you get hard, at the idea of watching me with a girl?"

He didn't know what she had had to drink, but suddenly the impulse to kiss her and find out was strong. He bit his lip instead. Maybe absinthe. She was acting like someone he had only seen on missions, a Sarah who wasn't real, a Sarah who could put everything aside and do what had to be done without fear or consequence.

"No," he admitted, in a way that meant yes, very much. "The only girl I want to watch you with, is you."

And that, very definitely, was something he had not said, ever, definitely had not put into words, definitely had fantasized about a lot.

"Well," she said softly. "I don't know about you, but there are too many cameras in here for that."

Chuck's very obvious erection was almost painful by the time they made it back to their place, and he breathed a quiet thanks when Morgan didn't greet them at the door or call an extended greeting from his room. Sarah had her dress unzipped as soon as they entered the dark apartment and stepped out of it, whipping it off before they had even made it to their bedroom. He kept his eyes on her as he shut the door behind him, watching her swiftly unhook her bra and toss it carelessly into the corner, watching her shove her panties down and shimmy her hips to send them falling to the floor. She was in her stilettos and nothing else when she looked up at him.

"What are you waiting for," she said softly.

Immediately Chuck started stripping his clothes off.

What killed him, what had his hand on his cock immediately, was that she kept her gaze locked to his. She kept her eyes on his as she cupped her breasts, her thumbs rubbing her nipples, flicking the hard tips. She sat on his bed with her knees bent and legs open, and she bucked once, a shiver sliding up her naked body.

"I'm already wet," she said. "Want to see? Want to feel it?"

Chuck swallowed hard before he answered. "I want to see you come, baby," he said, his voice rough, pumping his cock once in his fist. "I want to watch you make yourself come."

She fell back on the bed, her legs falling open, and he paid attention to all of it, how long she spent fondling her breasts, the way her hand slid down, her fingertips teasing slow lines down her belly to her inner thighs, how she caressed her thighs all the way up to the join between. She bucked again and by then he was standing at the foot of the bed, feeling her gaze on him as she pressed herself open to his view, her inner flesh a deep rose and already slick with her arousal. She tipped her knees back, opening herself further, and Chuck felt his control just barely begin to slip as she slowly traced one fingertip up and down her outer lips.

Then her thumb pressed between, at the top of her slit, and when she went tense and jerked her head back he knew that she had found her clit, and her hand undulated and Chuck's need for her, the pressure coiling in his balls, crashed over him.

"Fingers," he murmured, almost pleading. "Now."

She panted and gasped, her hips rolling and circling under her hand. "Oh, oh Chuck, God I want your cock, I want you, want you to fuck me," she whimpered, and then she hooked two fingers, plunging them into the slick heat of her cunt, and Chuck found himself kneeling on the bed, frantically stroking his cock, watching her fingers slide, thrust, pulse as she touched herself. Her heels whispered against the sheets as she writhed, her whimpers turning into cries, into her begging for his cock. Her hips came up off the bed, her caress more frantic, and then she slid her other hand between her thighs and he could hear how wet she was, and as he heard that familiar catch, that shift to high breathy pants that marked her orgasm, he came, shaking, his seed spilling hot on her belly.

With an utterly satiated sigh she stopped working her hands between her thighs, and an expression of fleeting pain flickered on her face as she pulled them away, quickly. "Did you just—"

Chuck was almost bonelessly relaxed, spent, but he immediately got to his feet, muttering an apology. He came back with a washcloth and wiped her stomach off, and she stretched and pulled on a sheer robe that was very definitely worse than actual nakedness. When she came back to his room her hands were soft and clean and Chuck was just finding a pair of boxers.

"Look, I know it probably turned you on." Her expression was softer, almost shy. "It doesn't mean anything. It's a mission. I just..." She finally met his eyes. "I didn't know if you were going to say that you wanted to watch me... with a girl, if you wanted that—"

Chuck shook his head. "I mean, if you... if you want a threesome, or something.... but watching you, do that? That was so, so hot. I love hearing you say you want me..."

"Your cock," she corrected, almost dryly, approaching their bed.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Because, as very wrong and very dirty and very hot as you making out with another chick is? All it does is make me want you more."

She smiled and Chuck had a sudden feeling that maybe she had this conversation with someone else and maybe there had been a different answer, and that his, finally, was the right one.

All it took was the brush of her hips against his a few hours later, as they lay spooned with him behind her, to get him hard again. He pushed that ridiculous robe open and cupped her breasts, rubbing his cock against her ass, and she made a soft hmm sound and pushed his hands away, sliding onto her back and then swinging her leg over him to straddle his waist, her robe a useless annoyance. He pushed it down her arms and stared at her breasts, the trim span of her waist, the shadow between her thighs.

"I think you're the best guy I've ever known," she murmured.

"Oh you know how much I like that kind of dirty talk," he murmured in reply, and she smiled.

Then she kissed him, hard, the tips of her hair brushing his ears, and he caressed her breasts like he had seen her do before, fondling her, teasing her nipples. She ground down against him, a moan of pleasure vibrating from her mouth to his, her wet inner flesh rubbing against the base of his cock. She was slick again, still slick from before, but when he slipped his thumb between her lips her clit was swollen, the nub of wet flesh sensitive under his stroke, so sensitive that she sucked in a hard breath, bucking into his touch.

"You still want it?"

She arched over him and grasped his cock in answer. "I've never stopped."

Then she caught his gaze and held it as she angled him into position, and he didn't break her gaze. He didn't need to. She fitted the tip of his cock just inside her and rolled her hips, letting her breath out in a loud groan, pushing down in a series of shallow hard thrusts until his cock was fully sheathed between her thighs and he was straining up off the mattress to drive himself deeper, deeper.

"You feel so good," he moaned, sighing as he cupped her hip, driving her harder as she pulled back for another thrust. "So wet and so tight. Oh God, baby, God." He brushed his thumb in another rough stroke against her clit and her knees slid apart immediately, letting gravity pull her down to be impaled on his cock.

Her mouth fell open. She planted her hands and rocked down against him, hard, once, twice, again, again, her breasts bouncing, biting her lip when he flicked her clit. "Oh fuck yes, yes," she cried out, "yes, hard, hard," and he rolled with her onto their sides, then onto her, into her, deep into her, tight and perfect.

It seemed to go on forever, over and over until they were almost raw with it, the slick-smooth glide of his cock in and out of her, her cunt tight and pulsing hard around him. He bit her nipples, gently, and she raked her nails down his back and over his ass, and at one point one of his legs slid off the bed and she hooked her leg around his waist and he used his foot on the floor for leverage, to drive harder, to thrust even more deeply into her. "Chuck, oh God, Chuck," she sobbed out, as he brought her to the height of another orgasm and felt her fall apart around him, quivering, almost rutting under him, her hair curling against her glowing cheeks.

She gasped her breath back. "Fuck," she swore, tensing as he slid out of her, already drowsily spent.

"Yeah," he agreed, still perched over her. "God, I love you."

She drew her fingers down his cheek. "Love you too," she said, her eyes gleaming faintly in the dark.

He knew he would never stop wanting this. But maybe, just every once in a while, maybe, he wouldn't mind so much another mission like tonight.