Word count: ~640
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Praise of a certain detective’s assessments.
A/N: Complete writing time: 38 minutes… Smut for JC – as promised. Enjoy!
Holmes’ hands, two fleshy five petaled flowers, opening and closing in slow rhythm, I held them in my own, touching his palms with two fingers, meandering down around his wrists, pinning him to the bed, gently.
He moaned my name, I was trapped inside his wet, tight, clenching heat, my steelhard manhood twitching and sliding in and out like well oiled machine. In and out, lingering, holding, probing, testing.
“John, John!” My dear boy. His body curling like a snake in its nest, pressing his own hardness against my slick belly, sticking our hair together like sea weed entangled ashore after a stormy night.
He was hot and damp, meeting my thrusts, his lips open, tip of his tongue running over the edge of his teeth, his eyes wide, but without vision.
I let his hands go, felt the muscles of his arms, biceps, triceps, round shoulders, my face at his neck, my tongue licking his jaw, his temples. His legs tightening around me he let his hands slide over my arms, shoulder blades, tenderly drawing circles over the scar of my wound. It tingled and I felt the heat of his skin. I fucked him harder, he met my thrusts, his sweaty crack wide open.
“John…” A sigh more than a plea. I traced my thumb across his forehead, caressing his eyebrows, his fluttering lids, his long, black eyelashes, over the bridge and the tip of his nose, his lips, oh so delectable, moist lips. He kissed my fingertip, sucked my digit into his mouth. I sped up pace, he growled low in his throat, opened up a bit wider, drawing me down, allowing me deeper access.
I kissed his forehead again, let my tongue wander over his brows, licked the sweat from his lids, his lashes tickling my tongue. I smiled, sighed, sighing his name I pulled out completely.
“John!” he cried. I kissed his nose, he nudged me with his head, his hand around my neck he drank my breath, the heat searing me, blistering my skin, the tip of my root digging deeper, vigorously, brutally.
He bit me, I squeezed his manhood, minutes later we released almost mutually.
“John… I… feel you. Stay inside… John…” A yelp a puppy makes if separated from its mother’s teat when I pulled out again, slammed back in and kissed my boy. My dear boy! Let me taste your lips, yes, bite me! Suck at my lip, taste my blood, my life.
“Holmes.” He turned his head and his black, wet hair painted my face with his sweat like a big, soft brush. His scent made my cock twitch again. I lowered my head, bathed his left nipple in my spit. He writhed and moaned, his legs like a vice around my body, his hands in my hair, at my neck, falling lifeless onto the pillow, defeated, exhausted, debauched.
His fingers twitching in an irregular pattern, tapping an alien rhythm only he could sense, tracing a dream in space. He was mine. His member still in my hand, his essence between my fingers. I kissed him again, shared my breath with him. In, out, in and out, until he nearly fainted. Finally my soft member slipped out of his hole like a snake out of a cave. Wet and glistening, a reborn, divine being.
I pressed my lips against his pulse point, his heart staccato beat like my own. My body his shield, the blanket our cloak, we drifted awhile in sated contentment.
When exactly he fell asleep I can not tell. But I held him in my arms until next morning, until dawn’s pink rising made his face look like a golden cherub, his lashes throwing long shadows over his face.
With a deep sigh I felt his hands curled up in my fists. Sleep, my boy. Your doctor watches over you.