drwhitly | Closed to formersurgeon

“I want you to enjoy it and savor it then,” he watched her eat as he began to cut his own meat. “But not for too long,” he eyed her with an attracted gaze. She was so alluring to him that it nearly impressed him that he had been able to keep his hand off of her. If not for the meal he had taken pride in making, he would have kept his word about things happening before the meal.

“So,” he began some causal conversation. “How is Sherlock?”

She smiled at his words and his gaze, and ate another piece of the steak. It was really nice, how attractive he clearly found her. Not that people didn't usually find her attractive, of course. But this was different. More intense. Really, with the way he was looking at her, she was almost surprised he hadn't just shoved her to the wall the minute she walked in and taken her right there.

The steak was really good, though. And he was clearly proud of his work.

He asked about Sherlock, and she swallowed her mouthful of food and sipped her wine. "Sherlock is well. He's happiest when he's working, so the past week has been very satisfying for him."

His attraction to her was intense. It had been years marinading while he was still in that tiny cell of his. She was what he had fantasized about on those late nights when all he had were words on a screen at best. To now endlessly have her made him want to savior those moments.

“Good!” Martin was pleased at a distracted Sherlock. He continued to eat his steak and take drinks of wine as he asked, “Tell me, has there ever been a case he could not crack?”

She had longed for him when they could only see each other for rare, stolen hours in the institution, but she knew it wasn't the same as being the one locked up and tethered.

"Mmm," she hummed, swallowing her mouthful. "Yes. Not lately, but yes. At one point he gave me a trunk full of files from the cases he couldn't solve, so that I could take a crack at them." She cut another piece of steak. "I've solved a couple. Some of them, though...still mysteries." She put the piece of steak in her mouth.

“Oh he must love it when you solve the ones he can not.” Martin muses, loving that she is such a smart woman. He may be a narcissist but it fuels his image of himself to have such a accomplished woman on his arm. “Do you ever compete to see who can figure it out first?”

Martin took his time trying to savior the meal he had made but with each passing moment he was prepared to cut the meal short, watching Joan as she ate, like a cat looking to pounce.

She loved his intellect, loved that he understood her and could keep up with her. Spending all her time with Sherlock made it hard for her to be with men who couldn't match wits. In that respect, Martin was perfect for her.

"Sherlock isn't really one for jealousy when it comes to cases," she noted. When it came to his partner? Yes. But with cases, the answer was the important thing, regardless of who arrived at it first. "So not quite a competition. But we do enjoy showing off for each other." Someone had once said they were members of a mutual admiration society, and they weren't far off. Joan and Sherlock admired and adored each other, a fact that Martin must have noticed.

Right now, though, he was clearly noticing other things. That look on his face suggested he was hungry for something that wasn't on his plate. She smiled slyly, and, looking in his eyes, slowly put another piece of steak in her mouth, then sighed with excessive pleasure as she chewed it.

“Well then I am glad he appreciates your talents.” Martin concluded. “Particularly your mind. He sounds smart but I think you’ve got some edge on him.” And Martin meant that.

“You know,” he casually spoke, continuing to use a steak knife to slice through his meal. “I’ve been thinking of you all day. It’s been quite...intrusive.” His eyes raised to meet hers, certain she caught his meaning. “I resisted relieving myself which has been quite a feat, I’ll tell you.”

"In some ways," she agreed with a smile. "Other ways he definitely has the upper hand." She shrugged a little. "We complement each other really well. It makes us a great team."

He remarked on having though of her all day, and Joan glanced down at that steak he was cutting, knife in hand...and the image of one of Martin's victims flashed in her mind, her skin artfully sliced by someone who was clearly quite knowledgeable about anatomy. She blinked and looked up, and smiled, looking perfectly at ease.

"It's mutual. Although it would have been a lot harder for me to 'relieve myself' on the job. Way too many people. The thought of finding a bathroom did cross my mind, though..."

Martin chuckled at her mental image. “Ah the luxury of when I used to wear scrubs all day.” He said in a dreamy way. Then paused to clarify. “As a surgeon. Not when at Claremont. Completely different scrubs.”

He took another bite of steak before looking to her, “Maybe we invest in one of those remote toys that go in your panties. I mean, I wouldn’t want to disturb your work...but it’d be fun to play with if say you couldn’t come by in the evening.” He was realistic about their meeting up. She had to go back to her place enough for appearances and he didn’t ask more from her than she could offer. They still had to be careful nearly every day.

She raised her eyebrows in amusement. "You liked wearing scrubs because it made it easier for you to pleasure yourself when you wanted to while on the job?" It wasn't entirely unheard of. Those clothes were designed to be easy to put on and easy to take off, a feature that had been utilized by doctors and nurses for secret trysts in supply closets from time immemorial. Not her. But others.

She took a bite and smiled at the suggestion. "That would be...interesting," she said. "I could wear it during the day and text you when I have a minute to myself and can't stop thinking of you."

“I mean it wasn’t that often!” He let out a laugh at what an image she may have been mustering in her head of him as a horny surgeon. “But every so often, things would get exciting after a particular operation.” He shrugged his shoulder casual as if this was a normal thing to be a roused from.

“Yes,” he grinned, his head tilting down to watch her, savoring that they were thinking exactly alike right then. “It’d be like I was the one pleasuring you.” Since technically he would be. “That would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

Oh.

She had been thinking of the "horny surgeon," looking right past the truth that should have been obvious.

"Operations aroused you," she said, with a tone of realization that wasn't quite shock. "I had always thought it was the murder itself that you found enticing. But it was more than that, wasn't it? What about the operations turned you on?"

They were definitely on the same page when it came to the use of a toy. "You would be the one pleasuring me," she pointed out with a smile. "It would be nice. Might even help me concentrate on my work, if whenever I'm all hot and bothered over you, you could satisfy me right away."

Martin was surprised by her sudden realization. “Oh yes, although I kept it fairly controlled seeing that I couldn’t let it show during the operation.” He was always very careful in that regard. “The complete control of someone’s life, I imagine.” He took another bite of his steak, savoring the flavor once more. “Slicing someone open does have its thrill even if you have to put them neatly back together again.” He looked to her and smiled.

“I would truly love that.” Back to control and a touch of ownership over her even if in brief moments. He didn’t care for her to get her mind too wrapped up in logistics. “I’ll search for one tomorrow.”

She considered that, considered what it was like when she would operate on people. And he was right, wasn't he? There was a thrill. Of having someone's life in her hands. Of cutting someone open. It was a distinctly intimate experience, even if the person on the table wasn't...and hopefully would never be...conscious of it.

"Maybe that's part of why I couldn't operate after accidentally killing one of my patients," she mused. "It's only thrilling when you know you're in control."

She smiled at his enthusiasm for being able to pleasure her even when they were apart. There was an element of ownership to it, the idea that when she was in need of sexual satisfaction she would turn to him, no matter where she was. She wondered if he'd want her to promise to tell him every time she was aroused. Or want her to beg for her release.

Both ideas thrilled her. The idea of being owned by him thrilled her.

"Let me know where I can pick it up," she said, and took another bite of steak.

Martin bobbed his head as he considered what she said. “I supposed so. There are times when the struggle for control is also just as thrilling.” This was illustrated in so many areas of his precious life and their current sex life

He hadn’t thought out the details of the endeavor just yet but Martin would be certain to explore every angle of it. He would love to have her accountable to him when she was aroused. Owning her excited him on so many levels.

“I’ll order it tonight when you leave.” He declares before taking the last bite off of his plate, picking up his wine to complete the meal. “But for now I think we need something a bit more organic, don’t you think, darling?”

She smiled at that, definitely relating the idea of a struggle for control to their sex life. As much as she enjoyed the idea of being owned, and knew that Martin enjoyed the idea of owning her, it would be flat and boring if she were merely submissive.

"It is," she affirmed.

She finished her meal at the same time, chasing down the last bit of steak with the last swallow of wine. "Definitely," she agreed, setting down the wine glass and wiping her mouth with her napkin. She put the napkin down and looked around. "Hmm...against the wall might be nice. Or you could lift me onto one of the counter tops. Or you could just sweep everything off the table and fuck me right here." She looked at him, eyebrows playfully raised. "Thoughts?"

Joan understood him in a way that he appreciated beyond words. While there were a few instances where they didn't quite agree in preference, she still accepted him as him. He was, after all, the serial killer she sought out, through and through.

"Not even interested in making it to the bedroom," he observed, listening to her verbal fantasizes. He smiled with his words, taking a moment to set his own wine glass to the side; they were a mess to clean up if they broke. "I do like the idea of taking you right here and now." He pushed his seat back slightly, his legs casually spread. "But first you're going to come over to me, get on your knees, and get things started." He removed the question from this suggestion.

She accepted him and loved him. It wasn't a simple thing; he was still a serial killer, and murder was an inextricable part of his person. She could never approve of the actual act of murder, and would never condone his crimes. And yet she still accepted him, all of him, even the violent parts, even the parts that lusted after blood and death. He was dark and dangerous and beautiful and brilliant and she loved it all.

She smiled a little at his order, and considered him for a moment, now slightly back from the table, before pushing back from the table herself. She rose, flashed her eyebrows playfully, then got down on her hands and knees to crawl under the table toward him.

“Oh!” Martin exclaimed with some amusement. “Adding some flare, are we?” He greatly appreciated that. He spent years in a marriage full of vanilla sex if he could get any, while anything was an improvement, this was leagues better.

Just the sight of her on her knees got his cock swelling. To aid things along, he took the liberty of opening his pants and pulling himself out, stroking his cock as he watched her approach. “You look hungry for it.” He observed with a playful smirk.

One of the benefits of having "exercise partners" was a greater freedom in experimentation. If something didn't work, well, she never had to have that person over again. But with Martin she felt free to play. There would clearly be boundaries, on both sides, but within those boundaries she enjoyed their exploration, and was fairly certain he did as well. There was nothing vanilla about them.

She smiled as she saw him stroking his cock, the sight of it only intensifying the heat between her legs.

"Ravenous," she answered, smirking back, moving between his knees, She leaned forward, eyes on his, and lightly raked the head of his cock with her teeth.

The contact of those teeth to his swollen cock made Martin visibly shiver. He exhaled with a groan, skin prickling and igniting every nerve. There were sudden urges to grab her head and force something more intense immediately but giving her the reins to take her time on him was a long game he knew would pay off. So instead, his hand reached out and stroked her dark hair gently, holding his cock at the base for her to do with as she pleased.

“Yes....that’s it-“ he purred, chin to his chest just watching her.

God, she loved having that effect on him. It was another dance of the give and take of control. She knew full well that if he wanted that gentle hand on her hair could violently grab her head and push her down as he fucked her mouth. But just as her being solely submissive was boring, so was him dominating her every moment and merely taking what he wanted. It was so much more satisfying for both of them, she felt, when she gave him pleasure willingly, actively. . Still on her knees to him, her eyes still upturned with clear devotion but also with that bit of control over him, the power to make him shiver and groan.

She leaned into the hand touching her hair for a moment, then opened her mouth wider, taking him further inside, then slowly dragging her teeth up his shaft.

Martin loved the give and take. The concept that she was actually in far more control than he was, while in such a vulnerable position, was not lost to him. She had him like puddy in her hands really. He would do whatever she desired of him so long as she kept that pleasure coming. He knew her to be clever enough to manage those reins.

His toes curled in his shoes feeling the slight toughness of her teeth, certain his cock had twitched in her mouth, producing some precum on her tongue. “Oh-“ he purred again. “I’d tell you to be careful but there’s no fun in that.”

Joan tasted the saltiness of his precum spreading on her tongue and hummed with amused delight, it being yet another sign of how much pleasure he was experiencing at her hands. Or, more accurately, her mouth.

"No fun at all," she purred with a sly smile, then carefully, playfully, nipped at the edge of his glans before taking him in her mouth again, this time to work him with her lips and tongue.

Martin watched her intently, feeling himself stiffen against her tongue as she moved. He released a groan as he leaned back in his chair. “I need you to get on this table so that I can see how wet this is making you.”

He paused as he thought over his next words. Wetting his lips he said, “And decide what I’m to do to you.”

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