"You are, aren't you?" He chuckles and kisses Watson playfully, teasing him with his tongue and hints of teeth. Presently, Holmes feels very wanted and quite sexy, and it might be going to his head a bit.

"Quite the hedonist tonight, my darling," he says huskily. "I'm not sure we have time to relocate." Regrettably, he has to draw away to find and recover the necessary vial. It's comforting in some way that Watson's body (and his own body, come to that) has become more accustomed to this sort of activity, that he needs less preparation now. Some sort of carnal sign of their connection.

He slides one slicked finger into Watson, pulling away enough to see his expression.