This is it -- a "Do or Don't" moment -- and Castle has a second to let it twist uncertainly in his gut before he sees her face and the decision is made for him. Strong, sure fingers on the backs of her thighs. The bite of the coverlet beneath his elbows. Her skin curves and dips beneath him like corporeal topography, collecting shadows and driving him to all ends of possible metaphor. He curves his cheek briefly into her hand, then draws a line over her inner thigh with the tip of his nose, exhaling across her warm skin. His lips, and then his tongue. He closes his eyes.