The Adventure at Baskerville Hall & Other Cases

that made me shudder and bite my lip to stifle a moan.
    "What do you want?" I asked, cupping his face in my hand as my hips began to push up into his strokes.
    He turned his head to plant a kiss in my palm and spoke into it.
    "I want to fuck you." The words fell easily from him, with only the slightest touch of hesitation, but he kept his eyes closed. His breath was warm against my skin, and the feel of his lips moving brought back memories of the previous afternoon and his mouth around me. "It has been some time since I had the pleasure, and I think that ought to be remedied."
    "Then you ought to stop doing that," I groaned. I could feel myself leaking into his hand, the sure slide of his fingers growing easier and easier as he nudged me insistently towards my climax.
    I forced myself to reach down and put my hand on his forearm, but he only insinuated a knee between my own, encouraging me wordlessly to spread my legs a little.
    "After this," he said, stumbling just a little over the words, and flushing slightly. "I want ... I want to see you come."
    His hair, usually so groomed and perfect, was falling in his eyes as he forced himself to articulate what he wanted – knowing that it would give me pleasure to hear it – and in that moment he was utterly the most perfect creature I had ever seen. I opened my mouth to tell him so, but he rubbed his thumb firmly against the small knot of flesh just beneath the head of my cock and my words were lost in a gasp.
    "Come on." He caught my hand, twined our fingers together and drew them back down to where I was hard and aching. "Let me see you."
    It did not take long after that.
    With his low-voiced encouragement in my ear, I thrust into our hands for half a minute longer before my release rolled through me. When I came back to myself, Holmes had buried his face in my shoulder, and I could feel fine tremors running through his muscles.
    "You now," I whispered, tilting his face up to me for a kiss. "What do you want?"
    "Only this," he murmured, but when I curled my hand – wet with my orgasm – around him, he groaned and his hips pushed eagerly into my grasp.
    "Don't let me..." he gasped. "I don't want to–"
    "I won't make you come," I promised him gently. "Just let me touch you for a while."
    He bit his lip in assent, and I kissed him as I let him slide through my fingers. After a few thrusts, he broke away from our kiss to reach over and fumble in the pocket of his dressing-gown, triumphantly extracting a small bottle of oil.
    "So this little interlude wasn't entirely unplanned, then," I remarked dryly, and my heart leapt at the flash of devilment in his eyes, gone almost as soon as it appeared but there nonetheless.
    "I had hopes that, perhaps, you might be not be averse to ... oh..."
    The rest of his sentence was lost to a breathy sigh, as I decided that he was entirely too articulate.
    I began letting his slick shaft slide through my fingers – he had been leaking so much that he was now just as wet from that as from my release – and he coaxed me to turn onto my side and drape a leg over his hip. Then I felt two slippery fingers sliding between my buttocks. He hesitated, just barely brushing the entrance to my body, and I groaned, "Yes, go on," as I arched into his touch.
    His fingers were so long and dextrous that even at that slightly awkward angle he was able to find the spot inside me that made my back arch. By the time he had worked three of them inside me, my cock was thickening against my thigh, and Holmes was flushed and sweating and alternately pushing into my hand and then squirming away when the stimulation grew too much.
    He reached down to place a hand against my half-formed erection.
    "Youth and stamina are wonderful things," he said, staring down at me with his eyes now dark with desire and want.
    "Say rather that you inspire me," I groaned, writhing under the dual stimulations, "and that it feels like an unbearably long time since you have had me."
    I took my hand off him and rolled onto my back, planting my feet on the hearthrug and spreading my knees wide.
    "Now," I insisted, pulling at him. "Come on."
    He scrambled awkwardly between my legs, made clumsy with arousal, and stroked more oil onto his cock. Biting my lip, I tipped my head back and groaned softly when I felt the first tentative push of him against me. My body opened easily for him, as he pressed forwards, until his hips were flush against me and he was leaning over me, his hands