Closed to formersurgeon

[drwhitly]

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.

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[drwhitly]

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.”

[formersurgeon]

Joan smiled around his cock, and slowly pulled her mouth off of him, leaving with a little flick of her tongue against his tip.

She stood and pushed Martin's plate and silverware to the side, then turned to face him, leaning back against the table. She was wearing a blouse and slacks on the outside, and a black lace bra with matching panties underneath. Those panties were already quite soaked.

"I feel like I'm your next course," she said with a sultry smile. Thank goodness Martin never ate his victims, or else that could be awkward. "Do you want me to take my clothes off?"

[drwhitly]

“That’s exactly what you are,” he grinned at her usual obedience. It would be awkward if he were a cannibal, but that simply wasn’t his style. Stroking himself to keep his cock attended to, he nodded, eyes raking her over. “Yes, take them off.” He paused, wetting his lips once more, “Everything.” He wanted her completely naked on the table in front if him.

[formersurgeon]

She slipped off her heels and put them aside, then began to slowly unbutton her blouse while watching him stroke himself, licking her own lips, still tasting him.

"Seeing you stroke yourself like that makes me so wet," she purrs, pulling off her blouse. She unzipped her slacks and removed them, setting them aside, then stepped toward him. It wasn't exactly what he ordered, but it also wasn't direct disobedience.

"Want to feel?" she murmured.

[drwhitly]

Hearing that the sight of him got her so aroused was an ego stroke he especially enjoyed. There were times when that sort of stroke was far more powerful and alluring than anything physical. He noted that she had slightly veered from his instruction but when his free hand automatically went where it was summoned, it wasn’t worth saying anything to it.

“I always want to feel you-“ he smiled, leaning in, his nose gliding over the skin of her neck and inhaling her scent. His fingers naturally slid into her when invited, two at once knowing that if she was aroused, she would be able to handle it. Instantly two knuckles deep, he felt how wet she was, causing his cock to stiffen in his own grip. He gave her a few pumps with his fingers just watching her.

[formersurgeon]

She gasped at the immediate deep penetration but didn't object. Instead she moaned softly as he pumped his fingers into her, bowing her head to rest on his shoulder. One of her hands went to his cock and took over for his hand, stroking him in time with those fingers.

"To be fair," she murmured, "I've been wet all day."

[drwhitly]

"Oh, I know you have been," he grinned. They'd had these plans all week and he intended to make the evening worth their while.

Moving to be closer to her, since she did have him by the cock, after all, his free hand slid past her on the table where he was easily able to snatch the steak knife used just minutes before. "Let's...make this more interesting-" He spoke calmly and softly before pushing her to lie back on the table, his fingers still inside her while a knife now went to her throat.

[formersurgeon]

She smiled as he moved closer to her, wanting his touch, his warmth...and then she drew a quick, sharp breath when the knife was pressed to her throat. A thrill of fear shivered through her, and she let him push her back, her eyes widened and wary, watching him closely, very closely, her movements slow. She released his cock and raised her hands, as if in surrender.

"What are you going to do?" she murmured, her pupils wide and cheeks flushed, more aroused than afraid.

[drwhitly]

Martin saw that fear in her eye and felt the nerves across his body tingle with anticipation and excitement. His cock was a solid rod so it still brushed her thigh even as she released it.

As he gazed down at her, both positioned in such a manner that he certainly towered over her, he spoke in a calm and normal tone, “Why I’m going to fuck you, my dear.”

His fingers slid out of her to guide his cock to replace them, and with a roll of his hips, he entered her.

[formersurgeon]

She had thought of this, back when he was cutting his steak with that knife. Thought of him using it on his victims, then thought of him using it on her, the same way he enjoyed choking her when he fucked her, getting that thrill of having her life in his hands. This was more terrifying than his hands around her throat, though. He was sufficiently skilled with that knife that he could kill her in an instant, whereas strangling her took time, time during which she could fight back. And this was much closer to how he murdered his victims.

If he had asked her about knifeplay beforehand, she would have said no.

She's already breathing a little roughly with arousal and fear when he guides his cock to her entrance. When he thrusts inside her she groans desperately, her eyelids fluttering for a moment at the sensation.

He loved her. He did. There was no reason for him to kill her. She knew this. And she wanted to be able to offer herself to him completely, even now, but she couldn't yet. She still watched him, trying to think of ways to defend herself.

[drwhitly]

More than his hand around her neck, he had wanted to obtain that authentic fear in her. The anxiety that made even her internal muscles tense around his member. They both knew that he could kill her skillfully at any moment. He also felt that she knew him well enough to know that if he were to treat her as a victim, he would have gone all the way with the scalpel and everything. As a serial killer he was a creature of habit through and through. Although he did care, and would stop if she told him to, but if that didn’t occur even though he was opening some flood gates now, he would aim to avoid leaving any marks.

Releasing a gasp that mixed into a groan, he drove himself entirely inside of her, feeling for that unique clench as he began to move slowly.

“Shh-“ he hushed her nerves even though she hadn’t spoken. His eyes were transfixed onto hers, feeling her heart’s pace. “You trust me.” His language was telling more than reminding. “And you are enjoying this.” He made sure his pelvis would grind against her clit to give some stimulation as well.

[formersurgeon]

She was still so, so wet, her body hot around him, her muscles exactly as he had expected, tense and tight with anxiety. It was a different sensation than his cock inside her when she was relaxed, and if she were to be entirely honest...it wasn't a sensation she hated. It was hardly the first time they had engaged in fear-driven sex, and she had found that, despite it being very different from her usual sexual practices before Martin, she did enjoy it quite a lot.

He was telling her she trusted him, and she did. He told her she was enjoying it, and she was. God, was she ever. He ground against her and she groaned again. She looked up into his eyes, her body trembling...then she swallowed, closed her eyes, and tilted back her head, offering her throat, the pace of her panting quickening slightly as both the arousal and fear increased at her surrender.

[drwhitly]

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.

[formersurgeon]

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.

[drwhitly]

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.

[formersurgeon]

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.

[drwhitly]

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.

[formersurgeon]

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.

[drwhitly]

“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.

[formersurgeon]

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."

[drwhitly]

“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?”

[formersurgeon]

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."

[drwhitly]

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.

[formersurgeon]

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.

So sorry for being so slow!

[drwhitly]

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.