i_favour_you

Follows this.

It wasn't until he found the beach that he realized they had made it to Cape May. Of all of New Jersey, this was possibly his least favorite place. It was so nice here. Cosy shops, happy people, and homes that cost far too much money.

Also, art supply stores. Sherlock purchases the needle, thread, alcohol, and some glue. Can't look too obvious, even with the blood under his fingernails and the tears in his tee-shirt. Not long after, he parks the stolen car in front of a chain hotel and goes in as calmly as possible to book them a room. His body is vibrating with panic. He can't remain this calm for much longer. Watson is bleeding. She's injured. He has to smile and wait in line and be bloody calm.

He pulls a coat out of the bag of clothes to put over Watson's shoulders once he gets back to the car.

"There's a vending machine and room service," he tells her. "We can get you orange juice and water for the blood loss."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

i_favour_you

He takes in a sharp breath at her words, and moves his head up to look at her. His eyes are dark, pupils dilated.

"Please," he begs. "Please, let me undress you."

He has no qualms about being submissive sexually. About giving in completely to the lovers he takes. And he has no qualms about wanting it, desperately, from Watson. To let her instruct him, control him.

From:

formersurgeon

She sees that look in his eyes, and she shivers.

Perfect.

"Yes," she says. "Undress me, Sherlock. I want to be naked for you."

From:

i_favour_you

He moves to her trousers, unbuttoning the top button to slide them down her hips. As he did while he was cutting off her shirt, he presses his mouth to newly exposed skin. The flesh below her belly button, the edge of her hip. Trousers gone, he kisses the top of her thigh, and down to her kneecap.

He doesn't pull off her undergarments. Not yet. He moves back up to kiss her again before his hand goes to unclasp her brassiere.

From:

formersurgeon

She traces her fingertips over his shoulder, then cups his cheek as she kisses him back. He undoes her bra, and she reaches up to slide the straps off her shoulders, wincing as she forgets and moves her bad arm.

From:

i_favour_you

He stops, looking down at her arm.

"You all right?"

From:

formersurgeon

"I'm fine, I just forgot that I can't move that one right now."

She reaches over to pull that strap down with her good hand.

From:

i_favour_you

He's seen her naked twice now, but he's still astounded by her. She's beautiful. He waits for her to lower the strap on the brassiere before he moves his mouth to her chest, pressing his lips to her breast and hovering them over her right nipple.

"Please," he begs again.

From:

formersurgeon

"Yes," she whispers, caressing his shoulders, running her fingers over the beautiful tattoo that decorates his shoulder and upper arm. "I want you to kiss my nipple, suck on it." She smiles slightly. "Bite it."

From:

i_favour_you

He lets out a small moan at her instruction. It's exactly what he wants, he wants her to tell him and---

Somewhere in his mind, he's aware that he should move more slowly with this. That his affection for Watson is about more than sex, and he shouldn't focus on it. But then again, the way she's whispering her instructions? How is he supposed to resist?

He presses his lips to her nipple, and then traces his tongue slowly. Not teasing, so much, but taking his time. Relishing in her every reaction. He moves in to graze his teeth, then to suckle.

From:

formersurgeon

There's no doubt in her mind that the love he has for her, the love she has for him, is more than sexual. Far more. Doing this now doesn't change any of that for her.

She draws in a breath at his lips, his tongue, and closes her eyes again, allowing herself to concentrate on the sensation. As he begins to suckle, she moans softly.

From:

i_favour_you

Oh, but that's a brilliant sound. He likes it. He wants it again. He bites, gently, while moving his hands to lower her panties.

He wants her. He wants her far more than he's wanted anything in quite a long time.

From:

formersurgeon

He bites, and she gasps softly before giving him that moan he wants. She shifts as his hands go to her panties. She'd do more to help, but she's still not nearly at full strength.

She wants to tell him, tell him how badly she wants him. She holds back, though, waiting for that word from his lips. That please.

From:

i_favour_you

He focuses on her right breast for a little while longer as she lifts her hips up. She asked to be naked for him, and who is he to deny her? He looks down at her body and lets out a low sigh. When he looks back up at her face, his expression is nothing short of reverent. Perfect, he called her. Perfect, she is.

"Please," he says. "Tell me what you want."

From:

formersurgeon

She sees that reverence, and it makes her heart quicken. She looks down at him with admiration and love.

"I want you," she answers quietly. "I want to make love to you. I want you inside me, and I want to come with you."

From:

i_favour_you

"Yes," he says. He cups her face again, and brushes his mouth with hers. "Yes."

In Sherlock's mind, there is a distinct difference between sex and making love. They signify very different acts. Watson is the only living person on the planet with whom he could see himself making love to. Who wants to make love to him.

He kisses her, and moves to lay them both back on the bed.

From:

formersurgeon

The phrase is deliberately chosen. Sex with Sherlock could never be just about the sex, just about his body and hers. She's not just offering him her body, she's offering him all of her, her body and her soul.

She kisses him back, and steadies herself against him with her good hand on his shoulder as he lays her down. Once she's settled, she reaches for his belt as she kisses him, undoing the buckle.

From:

i_favour_you

He shifts his own hips to accomodate her hands on his belt. The condoms are in the grocery bag on the floor, but he'll worry about them later. He'll worry about all of it when it becomes relevant. His hands need to focus on tracing over her body, over memorizing every last piece of her.

"It is entirely possible that I greatly underestimated the time I want to spend with you," he says. "12 hours will, most likely, not be enough."

From:

formersurgeon

She loves the feel of his hands on her, everywhere on her, and she makes a mental note that when she's better she's going to be the one examining him, touching him, kissing every inch of him.

"Really," she murmurs back, her hand now working on the button of his trousers. "Do you have a revised estimation?"

From:

i_favour_you

"Still working on specifics," he says. "But I know at least a very long weekend will be involved."

She only has the one hand, and he has very little patience. He moves one hand away from her to help with lowering his trousers.

"Possibly two."

From:

formersurgeon

"How about a week? I mean, 76 positions is just the positions, right? There's a lot more variables than just that."

His impatience amuses her, and she helps as much as she can to push down his trousers, then his boxers. She wants him naked, but she hardly has to tell him that.

From:

i_favour_you

"We'll make it a very long holiday," he says. "Test every individual variable.

He rolls to the side to kick his boxers away, and then rolls back towards her. He presses his mouth to her collarbone again, and then down her sternum, towards her belly.

His voice is serious again. "Please."

From:

formersurgeon

She moans again. She wants. Wants his mouth on every bit of her, his lips pressed to every inch of her skin.

"Yes," she whispers. "Sherlock, yes."

From:

i_favour_you

He presses his mouth to her left thigh, and moves to press his mouth to her clitoris when---

There's a sharp knock at the door. Sherlock jerks up, eyes going immediately towards the door.

"Who is it?" he calls, voice breathy.

"Police," comes the response.

From:

formersurgeon

She's biting her lip in anticipation when the knock sounds, and her eyes fly open when she hears the response.

SHIT.

They can't run. They're both naked, the cops are right at the door, and she's in no condition to outrun anyone. The only thing they can do it pray these are not the cops who are gunning for them.

"I should talk to them," she says quietly, struggling to push herself up. "Either they'll be more likely to trust me, or they'll just shoot me and get it over with."

From:

i_favour_you

Sherlock reaches out for her forearm, his eyes bright with panic. The idea of her being shot, after everything, it's too much. She's right, though. They're more likely to trust a woman.

He releases her arm and nods, getting to his feet. He grabs her his tee-shirt.

"All right," he says.