drwhitly | Closed to formersurgeon

Closed to formersurgeon

Martin spent quite a while cooking in preparation of Joan arriving. They had acquired a very nice one bedroom well outside of New York City while allowed them some privacy and anonymity. Martin was able to use his resources to find the place and was pleased with the results.

He had ordered some prime steaks to begin grilling in the kitchen as he awaited her arrival. Martin was dressed casually but still well put together in some suit pants and a nice sweater; never again to the scrubs. He glanced at the clock before turning to his phone to see if she had announced that she was on her way.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It was largely unspoken that they would partake in such sexual play, but when it happened and she gave no indication that she wanted him to shy away from it, then Martin simply continued. It wasn't planned so much as a spur of the moment sort of thing. So while he probably should be warning her, that would take away from the authentic affect of it.

He hadn't inaccurately read her body either, she was submitting in a fashion that empowered him while also let him know that she was still very much on edge from that knife.

As he lost himself in the moment and pressed the blade slightly into the beautiful pale skin of her throat as he rocked her body with his own, increasing in force. There was a distinct sweat on his brow as he would breathe heavily. It showed how tense and excited he was, his body running with adrenaline although moving in such a way that reminded him that he was still in many ways out of shape.

Joan knew what she was getting into, becoming sexually involved with a serial killer, one who took such pleasure in torture and murder. She had no illusions about what he was and what he wanted, so really, while this was a surprise when it happened, it was also somewhat expected.

She gasped when he pressed the blade against her skin, wondering how much pressure it would take for the knife to draw blood, and how much more for it to release a fountain of blood from her jugular. She trusted him...but she also feared this. He loved her, but he also desired the thrill of the kill. What if he lost control of himself? It would take a split second, a tiny slip, for him to slit her throat. It was terrifying, and god, so hot. He was fucking her hard, slamming into her, grinding against her, and her pleasure was through the roof, perhaps in spite of the fear but more likely because of it.

"Martin," she cried out, and her conflict was conveyed in the pleading tone of her voice. Please, don't kill me. Please, fuck me harder.

Martin watched her face closely and heard her plea in her voice. It was really just background sound. His eyes fell to the blade at her neck and it stirred that abnormal desire inside of him.

He did what she wanted and fucked her harder, tilting the blade just slightly to draw a touch of blood when she was jolted, the entire table going with her. He was breaking the 'no marks' rule, but he could barely see straight in that moment. There was just a woman he endlessly desired fueling his dark fantasies and he wanted it all with her.

Martin had his tells that he was getting close to his climax as his rhythm of bucking into her became rapid and in short succession, giving her some indication that he was nearing his edge.

The blade cut into her flesh and she made a strangled cry, pain and fear and ecstasy, and reached out to grab his sides, digging her fingernails in, as if she was getting ready to shove him away, shove him out of her.

Instead she pulled him toward her, close and hard, grinding her clit against him as he thrust rapidly into her. It only took a moment of that intensity of sensation to shove her over the edge, and she screamed as she came, body arching and shuddering, as if that blade had cut her throat after all and her body was going through death throes.

Martin felt the sting of her fingernails in his flesh. He has expected her next move to have pushed him away and off of her but when it didn't, something inside of him got permission to give it his all. Not that he had been pulling any punches.

It was with that scream that he felt himself completely release. Despite it being in pleasure, her voice registered a different sort of scream that was exactly what he had needed as the cherry on top of this.

Martin released his seed inside of her as his vision went for a few moments. The knife’s insistent pressure on her throat lessened then as he breathed heavily, eyes finally falling to see her again. Martin produced a smile as he stayed standing where he was, knowing that she had came this time.

She released Martin's sides when he came inside her, and once the pressure of the knife at her throat lessened, Joan reached up to gently grip his wrist and move the knife away from her throat entirely.

"That was different," she noted softly, looking up at him with a small smile of her own. She touched her throat where the knife had been and her fingers came away with the tips smeared red. "Good thing I have a scarf..." Sherlock would not be happy if he noticed the cut. It's not like she could claim she nicked herself shaving.

“Good different, I hope.” He leaned forward to kiss her before backing away and briefly wiping himself off once he had pulled out. It had definitely been good different for him.

He saw the blood produce on her finger when she touched her neck and his face grimaced in response. “Oh damn,” he leaned in as if taking a better look would help the situation. “Went a little too far this time, I didn’t even realize. I’m sorry, darling.” His hand went to rub her arm as if asking further for forgiveness.

She touched his cheek as she kissed him back, then sat up on the edge of the table when he pulled out. "It was pretty good," she agreed. And it was. She would have to sort through her feelings about that...about why the fear and possibility of him slicing her up just like he'd sliced up his victims aroused her so much...but she couldn't deny that it had aroused her, and that the orgasm she just had was kind of amazing.

She tilted her chin up slightly so he could get a look of the cut, and lifted her hands to settle them on his waist. "We can't let that happen often," she said, gently. "I need to be safe with you. I know you wouldn't hurt me intentionally, but unintentional damage is still damage."

“Yes,” Martin expressed his understanding and agreement that it was still damage. “I suppose I get a little...carried away.” Back to the reasoning that he now had an outlet to vent such sexual desires, but the reality was that he had a proper outlet in the “work” which had freed him. It was something they never spoke of.

“I’ll stay away from using foreign objects in general for now.” He decided, primarily announcing it to himself and nodding to affirm it.

Backing away, he adjusted himself after wiping off. “Do you think Sherlock will say something?”

His "work" was something that had to remain unspoken. Joan had her suspicions, but she could not know about his illegal doings for the sake of plausible deniability, and could not know about his murders for the sake of their relationship. If she knew, she'd have to try to stop him, and that would not go well for anyone involved.

"Probably a good idea," she said. It would be harder, she thought, for him to get carried away with his hands. She slid off the table as he backed away, collecting her clothes. "If he sees it?" she said to his question. "Almost definitely. He knows I'm not telling him about something big in my life right now. He's respecting my privacy...not something he's always done, but he's gotten better at it...but if he thinks I'm in danger, he'll say something. And do something."

Martin almost felt that sounded like a threat. Or a challenge. He knew Sherlock to be a very smart man and he respected that. Yet part of him itched to just have an intellectual face off with such a man. He never desired to quarrel with law enforcement, but he did enjoy some of that cat and mouse game. Of course by simply being a narcissistic sociopath, he did believe himself to be smarter than anyone else.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that he and I are motivated by the same things,” Martin smiles and leaned in, kissing her softly. His words meant to remind her that he did care for her despite their sexual endeavors sometimes seeming a bit extreme.

It was a warning more than anything. Although Joan would not be surprised that Martin had an urge to face off with the detective. He wouldn't be the first, after all. A number of narcissistic sociopaths had tried their wits against Sherlock, and few had won. Joan knew she would be unable to objectively assess Martin's chances, since her deep affection for both men meant that she sincerely did not want that confrontation to happen, because it would not end well. Not for Sherlock, not for Martin, and not for Joan.

She smiled back, and returned the kiss, soft and slow. She knew that Martin cared, even when their lovemaking suggested that he did not.

"I love you," she said when their lips parted, caressing his cheek. She loved him and trusted him and wanted to be with him.

Martin gazed down at her when she said the words and smiled softly. “And I love you.” He verbalized. "I'm glad that you know that."

Glancing at his watch, he knew that this was supposed to be a quick encounter, "Do you have to be off again?" He had made some desert, but it wouldn't necessarily spoil if she had to leave.

"I do," she confirmed. She kissed him again, then pulled away to start putting on her clothes. "I wish I had more time, but we need to close this case. Once it's over, I'll be all yours for a few days."

Martin perked up at that suggestion. “All mine for a few days? Well, that sounds exciting.” He grinned showing some genuine anticipation. "And like something I ought to plan for."

"I'm going to take some time off," she said, reaching behind her back to hook her bra. "We should go somewhere. Somewhere they won't recognize you."

She knew he'd been wanting to be able to be out in public with her.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Closed to formersurgeon

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

So sorry for being so slow!

No worries!

Re: No worries!

no subject