John continued to thrust up. Give him what he wanted. What they both wanted. To affirm this new bond. To know each other in every way. To mate.

He groaned and pressed his face against the side of Sherlock's neck that he hadn't drunk from. To not lose control.

"Touch yourself. Let yourself go..."

He was spiralling down and down. So close to his own climax. He wanted to tell Sherlock that demons could shift their bodies into whatever form they wanted, to please their partners or trap new ones. Not that he did that of course. But he wanted to please Sherlock.