"Please", he begged.

Joan kissed him softly.

Sherlock curled his toes. He would be on his best behavior.

He could finally feel her teeth graze his skin on his shoulder, feel his blood continue to rush to his growing erection. The bite was soft first, a nibble, playful. Then, she got into the meat, and he swore he almost felt skin break, slightly hoping it would. Joan's nose caressed his new bruise lovingly.

"Don't beg."

"Yes, of course", Sherlock whispered.

She moved to the other side of his body, and seemed to be going about the same game. Joan kissed his clavicle before placing another bite. He couldn't help but groan. He could feel the blood swell around teeth marks, eager for an exit, and it drove him insane.

"Joan…"

She put a hand over his mouth.

"Shhh."

With her free hand, she unzipped Sherlock's jeans, much to his relief.

"You can touch me."

He placed his hands on her hips, and she moaned softly. She was barely dressed, as she seemed to like whenever they played together, only wearing her bra and a lacy pair of panties. He let his hands travel down her body, caressing her soft skin. It glowed in the warm light of the setting sun. She looked down on him lovingly, enjoying the connection, and stroked his lips. A hand went to his throat, and she bent to kiss him again. It was a gentle press at first, and then she increased the pressure. Joan knew this was one of his many weaknesses. His hips hitched up eagerly, dying for their hips to meet and grind together. His unwanted display won him a soft slap. She simply quirked her eyebrows, wordlessly taking a nipple into her fingers to pinch. Her other fingers dug nails into his chest.

"Should I fuck you?" He knew it wasn't an honest question, that the answer had to be 'yes' or she was going to continue giving out pain. Which he didn't mind, but they had already done a lot of that the night before...

"I'm at your command", he said dryly. He was, always was, when he was underneath her like this.

Watson pulled down Sherlock's pants and his boxer briefs, finally taking them all the way off. They had been restricting, Sherlock notes. Joan stroked his cock with her fingertips as she fished a condom out of her nearby bag. They still used them because she was a worrywart about birth control failing. Slowly, she unrolled the condom entirely down his length, watching him as he tried to stay still. He closed his eyes and groaned, which he was hoping was still allowed.

Finally, Joan tossed aside her panties and got back on top of him, enveloped him slowly. She finally had all of him inside of her, and rubbed herself onto him, marking him with her wetness and scent. Joan took his wrists in her hands and squeezed softly, placing another kiss onto his lips. Slowly, painfully slowly, she rode him, unsnapping her bra to toss aside, placing Sherlock's hands on her breasts. He closed his eyes again, lost in her warmth, staring up at her as if he was praying to an idol. She'd only let this happen once a week, when she had drove them both to their brink with all the other play they had. He moaned weakly as Joan sped up, holding his hands closer. Her hands clawed into Holmes' fresh wounds, and Joan finally moved his hands down, Sherlock immediately taking the hint to thumb her clit. She only did it when she was already very close to coming.

"Fuck," she groaned, and he could feel her convulse around him, watch her legs quiver. He didn't stop rubbing her, and she tapped his hips, motioning for him to take over. He hitched up and took both hands onto her hips, as her hand replaced his on her clit. He thrust hard into her, being aware of how she wanted it at this moment. Just because he was "in control" didn't mean he was taking over entirely. Her cheeks ran red and with a few hard thrusts she had come, whimpering and moaning. It was his favorite way to see her, feeling safe enough to let this iota of control slip out of her hands, Joan secure he wouldn't try anything while she was most vulnerable. Moments later, Sherlock gave in to her and came hard, arching his back and closing his eyes. He felt incoherent for a few moments as her nails dug into his shoulder again, mingling with his strong orgasm.

Joan lifted off of him, pulling off the condom to tie off and toss in the side wastebasket. Laying down beside him, she spooned him, kissing him softly on his shoulder.

"Thank you", he whispered

Joan stroked his arms and shoulders idly, kissing his shoulder. "You're welcome", she coos in response.