New York is a Shura field [Comprehensive British and American]

He put one hand on your side, staring at you without blinking.And the other hand tightly clamped your right shoulder, making you unable to move.

You take a deep breath and take a deep breath, thinking that this is a symptom of the susceptible period, "Sherlock—"

Before the words "You hurt me" are spoken, you can see his face getting closer and closer to you until the distance becomes zero.

You reacted quickly and turned your head to avoid it.

His thin lips, which usually only spit out rational and slightly sharp words, barely brushed against your cheek.

Without any warning, the symptoms of Sherlock's susceptible period worsened.

You are suffocated by him, and at the same time, there is a cool and soft smell of fir lingering in the tip of your nose.

It feels like you are in the middle of continuous snow mountains.

People like Sherlock don't wear any perfume, and you usually only see him injecting cocaine solution and smoking.So, the breath you smell now is probably his pheromone.

You catch your breath.

His pheromone is like the pure and cold air on the snow mountain, even in this beautiful moment, there is a sense of alienation.So pure that it's hard to detect the sweetness in it.

His pheromone is different from most people's. This smell is just imitating water. It is colorless and odorless but indispensable and evokes imagination.

You two are tight. Tie.One of your legs happened to be stuck between his legs, and you panicked with embarrassment.

His cheek is against your fair neck, and you can feel his eyelashes gently sweeping against your skin.

You can't help but tremble.

Even with the masking agent sprayed, if you pay close attention, you can still smell the sweet pheromone that is too weak on your body.

Sherlock has always been good at seeing details.

He leaned beside your neck, devouring your remaining pheromone greedily, and didn't make the initial violent action for a while.

You're not going anywhere.

Only now did you realize that he usually looks so thin, but he feels so...pretty.

At first glance, it looks like a body that has been deliberately exercised.

The muscles are tight and lean, which is the type that looks thin when dressed and undressed.

But the fact that you feel it through the thin fabric is even more sobering.

Suddenly, you feel that the air in the room is actually mixed with a sweet and soft pheromone that does not belong to Sherlock.

At this moment, you realize that you have released your self unconsciously.

He actually used his pheromones...

Now Sherlock really makes you a little strange.

He snapped. Bite. Slashed. The side of your neck.

You flinch in pain.

The strength used this time is really not light, and there are blood marks.

But your glands are hidden in the back of the neck, and he can't get there now.

After taking a sip, he only felt the smell of blood in his mouth, and he suddenly calmed down again, and did not move.

Your heart fluttered and you thought he had passed out again, so you put your elbows on his chest, ready to throw him off—even with some difficulty.

Unexpectedly, you only moved a little, and he restrained you with even faster movements.

The man on your body is holding you like a mountain. He clamps your hands and feet forcefully, and at the same time lowers his head to press against your warm cheek.

You shivered a little from his heat.

You don't know what he's going to do to you—even Sherlock, who is vulnerable, behaves as weirdly as usual.

Not wanting to give you any extra time, he suddenly loosened his grip on your hand and tanned towards your collar.

He moved quickly, as if he had discovered something.