The Monster with a Handsome Face, Part 2/2
Title: The Monster with a Handsome Face
Author: radiantbaby
Characters/Pairings: Tenth Doctor/Martha Jones
Word Count: 6519
Genre: Angsty (and somewhat fluffy) cracktastic smut!fic - and so not canon (though I wish it were!)
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: "Christmas Invasion" and "42" are probably the only spoilers and they are only really hinted at. Set post-S3, pre-S4? (though pretty AU as it has Martha returning to the Doctor and, when she does, he has no other companions).
Summary: Martha has just returned to traveling with the Doctor and on their first trip they are subject to capture and a telepathic attack. When the Doctor tries to fix the damage the aliens might have caused to Martha’s subconscious, he stumbles into a little more than he bargained for in her mind.
Disclaimer: Only the Krasno (the aliens) are mine. And yes, it’s a lame name, but good alien names are so hard to come by these days! As for the rest, as persiflage-1 always says: "The BBC owns ‘Doctor Who’ and the Doctor owns me..."
Author Notes: This is my first Doctor Who fanfic, so please be gentle! In fact, I haven’t written much at all in recent years, so I apologize up front that I am a bit rusty. There were no betas for this fic, though, as I am so new to the fandom, I don’t know anyone to use. So, bear with any errors -- I did my best in the editing. Also, I should note that I had actually gone into writing this story as a short and sweet PWOP/PWP smut!fic, but the plot bunnies attacked me on the back-story and a plot emerged nonetheless. *shrug*
Click for Part One
----
The Monster with a Handsome Face
[2]
The Doctor stepped into his shower after leaving the medical bay soon after what had happened. He hoped that the shower would not only help clean the mud from him and ease his aching limbs, but also he hoped that it would distract him from his recollections of Martha’s fantasies of him.
He was, of course, wrong.
His cock was already hard from when he had just been in Martha’s head and since the time that he’d slipped from the medical bay back to his room, it had barely subsided. He sat in the hot spray of the shower’s water, leaning his forehead against the cool tile of the wall beside him. His hearts were racing and he could feel desire rolling over him like waves.
This body, this regeneration, had always been so much more...physical than his previous incarnations. He’d barely even masturbated or let himself fall prey to his own desires for so many years until he ended up in this body, seemingly so full of hormones. Even from the first night that he was fully conscious in this body, after defeating the Sycorax, he’d felt it - that insistent physical need. He couldn’t understand how humans dealt with it all the time. He himself always just had to edge his thoughts toward more mundane matters and save his impulses for late nights alone in the TARDIS and his own wandering hands.
Martha’s fantasies had stirred him more than usual though. He had been surprised at her sexual feelings about him and how, if he were truly honest with himself, they reflected his own feelings for her. It was certainly not the first time one of his companions desired him sexually, especially when it came to the young human women. And it certainly was not the first time that he desired them in return, but he always stayed his feelings in worry of taking advantage of his position of power with them or, in some cases, them needing more emotionally from him than he could give. It was a tough road to walk, this high road, but he felt he had to keep himself tempered.
Skin on skin, his mouth between her legs, his aching sex inside her - all these thoughts rushed through his head as he leaned against the shower wall. He began to run his hands over his chest, his breath hitching a little as the swept across his sensitized nipples and his soft sensitive belly. His right hand moved to grasp his cock in his hand and his left hand moved to lightly cup his scrotum. He moaned, the sound reverberating in light echoes in the bathroom. He was pressing his forehead harder against the cool tile of the wall, as his hands moved over his sex, and it wasn’t long before he was bringing himself to a shaky climax, his seed spilling down the wall onto the shower floor and down the drain.
---
After his shower, he settled into his bed, still nude. He was rarely one to sleep, but his body was still healing itself from the effects of his exhaustive day and needed rest. As he laid in his bed that night, despite his best efforts, his thoughts kept finding their way back to what he had seen in Martha’s head. He was truly spinning out of control. He tried reading from a book or two from his nearby nightstand, but nothing could fully distract his underlying thoughts. Skin on skin, his mouth between her legs...
“Doctor.”
For a moment the Doctor thought he was just imagining Martha calling out in one of his fantasies, much like she had in her own fantasies buried in her head. His cock hardened at the thought and he laid the book on his chest, trying to compose himself.
“Doctor”, he heard again.
He sat up in his bed, pulling off his glasses and tossing them onto the nightstand, rubbing his eyes. He then tossed the book aside, jumping up to his feet from his bed as his thoughts finally kicked in as he realized he was really hearing Martha’s voice.
He grabbed a nearby robe and pulled it around himself as he rushed out of his room and down the hall, hearing Martha repeating his name. He could tell by the tone in her voice that she was in distress and he wanted to get back to her side as soon as he could.
Seconds later, he arrived at the medical bay. He saw Martha lying in the bed in the room, her face showing discomfort, yet she was still asleep. He rushed over to her, wiping the beads of sweat from her brow with the back of his hand.
Nightmares, he could feel the TARDIS say before he even had a chance to ask. Constant nightmares.
“Doctor!” Martha called out again, her body stiffening and her face full of anxiety as her eyes fluttered wildly beneath their lids. “Help me, Doctor!”
The Doctor didn’t know what he could do. Nightmares could be hard to soothe, especially in humans, and he knew that they usually were the brain trying to work things out and heal itself in some emotional way. He also knew that any attempts he had made in the past to stop someone’s nightmares had only done harm and not the intended good.
He took in a deep breath and moved Martha’s body over more in the bed, climbing into the bed next to her. He pulled her into his arms, wrapping her around him so that she was lying against his chest. He held her head against his chest, stroking her hair, as he began to softly sing a lullaby from Gallifrey, one he used to sing to his own child so very long ago. He hoped that such an old-fashioned trick would help assuage her nightmares.
---
The Doctor opened his eyes groggily and realized that he must have eventually fallen asleep with Martha. He could tell by her quiet breaths that though she was still asleep herself, the nightmares had subsided. He smiled to himself at this. He then took in a deep breath, taking in his surroundings. Martha was curled up tighter against him, this time facing him as he lay on his side with her head nestled beneath his chin. He could feel warmth against his palm and fingers and looked down to see his hand nestled between her thighs. He contemplated removing his hand from her thighs, but the scent of Martha so close to him, her breasts pressed against his chest, stayed him.
The Doctor could feel the desire welling within him again, his cock hardening as it pressed against the lower part of her belly. He closed his eyes as he thought of how close his fingertips were to that glorious apex between her thighs and how much he wanted to move his hand up to press against its warmth. Skin on skin, his mouth between her legs, his aching sex inside her - the memories of her fantasies rushed into his thoughts again, curling up against his own thoughts much like Martha curled up against his body. He worried for a moment about his close proximity to her and how it would probably be best if he moved away from her before his desires overtook him completely. He just couldn’t will himself to move, though. Well, with the exception of his hand, which was slowly sliding up her denim-clad thighs to press his fingertips against what lay in between.
A soft sigh escaped Martha’s lips as his fingers reached their intended destination, her breath hot against his exposed chest from his robe falling open a bit in his sleep. He was at war with himself to stop his ministrations, but when Martha began to slowly move her hips against his hand, he lost all resolve. He tried to be delicate, not wanting the material of her jeans to be abrasive against her. He was getting mud on him again, but it didn’t matter to him.
“Doctor?” he heard Martha sigh against him, but this time her head moved to look up at him, her eyes full of surprise as they looked into his.
The Doctor stilled his movements, his body suddenly froze, tense with fear and shame at his actions. It was like the old Earth saying of being caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “M-M-Martha,” he stammered, unsure of whether he should pull his hand away or just sit there as still as possible.
“Doctor, what are you doing?” Martha asked quietly.
He opened and closed his mouth several times silently, the only words coming to his mind frightfully out of order and too disorganized to form a coherent sentence.
“Doctor,” Martha shifted to rest herself on an elbow, eyeing him curiously, “were you touching me?”
“Hmm?” the Doctor sputtered, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with her as he looked around the room.
“Were you,” Martha repeated, this time cupping her own hand over his between her legs and pressing it against herself for emphasis, “touching me?”
Martha then slid her hand from the top of his nestled between her legs, slowly sliding her fingertips up the Doctor’s arm and neck until they came to rest against his cheek. The Doctor’s eyes had closed at this action and he was trying to keep his breath steady. Martha could see the sweat pooling at his brow.
“Doctor, look at me,” Martha pleaded in a sweet, soft whisper.
The Doctor blinked his eyes open. Martha noted they were filled with worry and fear and something else she’d never quite noticed in them before - desire.
“Martha...I...I...” the Doctor stammered. He was going to say he was sorry, he was going to apologize, but he surprised himself with a completely different ending to the sentence, “I want you.”
Martha blinked in surprise at him, but then lightly shifted her torso against him, rubbing her belly against the evidence of his arousal. The Doctor gasped in pleasure, letting out a soft moan. “I know,” Martha whispered in response.
The Doctor didn’t care what she meant. He didn’t care if she meant simply that she could tell from his erection pressed against her or if she meant that she somehow always knew. He wanted her now and he couldn’t bring himself to stop.
Their lips pressed against each other’s in a hungry kiss, their hands running along each other’s bodies. The Doctor struggled to open the clasp of Martha’s jeans, but found her distracting thumbing of his nipples making it a challenge. She stopped her touching to help him open her jeans and push them over her hips and off.
“Why am I all muddy?” Martha asked, as the Doctor pulled down her underwear after she’d gotten her jeans off.
“Long story. Tell you later,” the Doctor replied in a short, clipped way, launching his lips at her neck as he played with the hem of her shirt before moving as he began to pull it up.
Martha shrugged and helped the Doctor get the shirt up and off and shivered a little as she lay naked beside him.
“Cold?” he asked, running the back of his fingers over her chest, lingering on his breasts.
She nodded, pushing at the material of his robe to push it off him and to the floor. He could sense, though, that even though she said she was cold, that her trembling might have also been from nerves.
The two paused for a moment. The Doctor was taking in the beauty of Martha’s body before him, naked and awaiting to fulfill his desires. He could sense that Martha was doing the same as he watched her gaze sweep over his body appreciatively.
The Doctor took in a deep breath and then reached out to run his fingertips down Martha’s neck, chest, and belly, down to her thighs. “Now, where was I when you were waking up?” he murmured, lowering his mouth to her neck, suckling and licking her pulse point.
Martha gasped slightly as the Doctor’s cool fingertips slid lightly over her sex in soft circles until he finally slipped one of his fingers inside her. She arched against him, grabbing tightly onto his back as he rolled the pad of his thumb over her clit while stroking her insides with his fingertip. The warm wetness felt so good against the Doctor’s hand and the scent of her filling his nostrils made him ache with hungry desire. It had been far too long since he let himself enjoy the pleasures of a woman, he thought to himself as Martha moaned, sighed, and groaned against him.
The Doctor lifted himself from Martha’s embrace, still touching her between her legs. He looked down at her eyes and saw that they reflected his own dark desire. “I want to taste you, Martha Jones,” he whispered, feeling a little sheepish at his confession.
She only smiled in response, a wide seductive smile that tugged at his desire even more.
He kissed her fervently, before slowly trailing his kisses down her neck to settle for a few moments at her breasts. He rolled one of her nipples between his lips and tongue, nibbling lightly on it. With his free hand, he pinched and caressed her other nipple. He could feel her sex squeeze against his penetrating finger as she groaned in response to his attention to her nipples. It nearly made him want to take her right there, to push his cock deep inside her, but his mind was on other things he wanted to do first.
The Doctor moved his mouth from Martha’s nipple and began kissing lightly down her torso, his hands still both pleasing her between her legs and her other nipple. She arched against his kisses, becoming more and more wet the closer her got to his destination.
Once he moved to settle between her legs, he took a moment to take in her scent again. A Time Lord’s olfactory senses were always more heightened than a human’s and he couldn’t help but admit to himself how much he enjoyed the nuances of Martha’s varying scents. From her shampoos and perfume, to her own natural scents, he always found her intoxicating when he let himself take in her scent (usually when they hugged) and this time was no different. He also realized that he’d smelled this very scent before and never knew what it was. Now considering his knowledge of Martha’s fantasies, he found himself hardening a little more at the thought that it was perhaps because she was wet with desire around him in their past at some point.
He growled with desire at the thought and then moved to lap lightly against her sex with his tongue. She groaned loudly and tensed below him and his response was to pinch her nipple a little harder. This caused another moan to escape her lips and that was enough to cease his teasing and wrap his lips softly around her clit and begin to suckle and lick it. He also began to move his finger inside her more quickly, adding another finger to the penetration, and curling his fingertips upward to caress the mass of nerves inside her just underneath her clit. Her fingers laced themselves into his hair as he pulled her closer and closer to climax.
Martha screamed his name as her orgasm rolled through her body and he held tightly onto her as her body thrashed around the bed - still licking and touching her as the pleasure filled her entire body. He didn’t want to stop, but he could hear her gasping and knew he needed to slow his ministrations to give her a moment’s break. He slowly moved his mouth and then pulled his fingers from her. He sat up between her legs and looked at her, chest heaving as she lay against the bed covered in sweat and traces of blue mud. He then stuck the two fingers that had been inside her into his mouth and sucked them dry. Martha moaned as she watched him, her eyes focused on his fingers and how his lips wrapped around them.
The Doctor then crawled over her, never ceasing eye contact until he reached her face. He lowered a soft kiss to her lips and then trailed kisses toward her left ear. “I want to be inside you now, Martha Jones,” the Doctor breathed in a heated whisper against the shell of her ear. “Do you want me?”
He then began to lightly trace the shell of her ear with his tongue and Martha nearly yelped out beneath him. “Yes...yes...yes!”
He moved to look her in the eyes again, his expression softening a little as he brushed the hair from her eyes and ran the back on his hand along her cheek and jaw. He thought of when he’d brushed her hair from her face on the planet of the Krasno when she was lying next to him in the blue mud and how he had to reluctantly leave her to get to the TARDIS. And then his thoughts came to the telepathic invasion of Martha by the Krasno and how he was just as guilty of such an intrusion just hours before. His breath caught as the realization hit him that he was really no better than the Krasno after all and how, when it all came down, he was just as much of a monster. A monster with a handsome face that was able to fool everyone into not seeing his true nature. He could feel the tears beginning to prick at his eyes.
“Doctor?” Martha whispered, lifting her hand to stroke the side of his face and wipe the tears that began to fall from his eyes.
He didn’t know what to say. Everything he was doing just felt so wrong, yet so right at the same time. He was taking advantage of Martha’s feelings, acting on impulses galvanized by her own private desires. But were they really just her desires? He knew that he had thought of her in the late hours of many nights when they were together and that he had longed to hold her again after she’d left him that day after The Year that Never Was came to a close. He knew that his feelings for her ran more deeply than he ever dared to admit to himself on most occasions.
“Doctor, it’s okay,” Martha said below him, still stroking his face with concern in her eyes.
The Doctor gasped a little, not sure of what to say. He wanted to confess to what he had done to her and he wanted, more than anything, for her to forgive him and not have his actions breach her trust. He could not lose her trust. He just couldn’t...
“I know what you did, Doctor,” Martha interrupted his train of thought. “Last night, when you were inside my head. I know what you did.”
The Doctor stilled himself, waiting for the onslaught of berating he was sure that he was about to endure from her. He wanted to respond, but all he could get out was, “How?”
It sounded more like a breath than a word, but it was all he could manage in his desperation.
“The TARDIS. She told me. She is still in my head, still healing things. I still don’t know what all happened to us yesterday, but I know what you did and I know that you are thinking about it,” Martha responded, her tone calm and even. “I know because she can hear you and told me.”
A sob escaped the Doctor’s lips before he could stop it and he lifted a hand to cover his mouth in shame. He lowered himself flat onto Martha, pressing his face into the pillow at the side of her head, the tears now fully taking him. “I am so sorry. I am so sorry,” he whispered again and again against the fabric of the pillow.
Martha wrapped her arms around him, stroking his back. She was quiet for several long moments before finally speaking. “Doctor, I forgive you. I mean, I can’t say I am not a bit embarrassed and I can’t say that given the opportunity that I might not have done the same thing. I just…” Martha trailed off, seeming to try and find the right words. “I just want you to be happy.”
“You make me happy. Being with you makes me happy,” the Doctor sobbed.
“Then make love to me,” Martha responded. “You might have seen my desire for you in my head, but if you had no interest in me, would we be here right now? Let me give you what you want. What we both want.”
The Doctor moved to look into her eyes again and found himself transfixed. Three words were bubbling at the surface of his thoughts that he dare not say. He reached down to sink a hand into her hair, caressing it softly for a moment, and then shifted his body to push his cock inside her.
No more words were spoken between them as he took her, their bodies moving against each other in that beautiful ancient rhythm. The Doctor reveled in Martha’s moans and sighs beneath him and he moaned himself at how good she felt, especially as she raised her hips to meet his causing his penetration to be even deeper.
Martha’s eyes widened a bit as another climax rocked through her body and the Doctor kept moving within her, riding out the waves of her climax along with her. Then his own rhythm increased and he moved almost desperately against her, his hearts racing and his groans and breaths now a staccato. He breathed her name and then called out loudly as his own climax took him, his body stiffening as his seed spilled into her.
He opened his eyes and looked down at Martha who had a sweet smile on her lips. “Thank you,” he whispered. And while it wasn’t the three words he wanted to say, he knew that for him, every time he ever said it to her, it meant the same thing.
Author: radiantbaby
Characters/Pairings: Tenth Doctor/Martha Jones
Word Count: 6519
Genre: Angsty (and somewhat fluffy) cracktastic smut!fic - and so not canon (though I wish it were!)
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: "Christmas Invasion" and "42" are probably the only spoilers and they are only really hinted at. Set post-S3, pre-S4? (though pretty AU as it has Martha returning to the Doctor and, when she does, he has no other companions).
Summary: Martha has just returned to traveling with the Doctor and on their first trip they are subject to capture and a telepathic attack. When the Doctor tries to fix the damage the aliens might have caused to Martha’s subconscious, he stumbles into a little more than he bargained for in her mind.
Disclaimer: Only the Krasno (the aliens) are mine. And yes, it’s a lame name, but good alien names are so hard to come by these days! As for the rest, as persiflage-1 always says: "The BBC owns ‘Doctor Who’ and the Doctor owns me..."
Author Notes: This is my first Doctor Who fanfic, so please be gentle! In fact, I haven’t written much at all in recent years, so I apologize up front that I am a bit rusty. There were no betas for this fic, though, as I am so new to the fandom, I don’t know anyone to use. So, bear with any errors -- I did my best in the editing. Also, I should note that I had actually gone into writing this story as a short and sweet PWOP/PWP smut!fic, but the plot bunnies attacked me on the back-story and a plot emerged nonetheless. *shrug*
Click for Part One
----
The Monster with a Handsome Face
[2]
The Doctor stepped into his shower after leaving the medical bay soon after what had happened. He hoped that the shower would not only help clean the mud from him and ease his aching limbs, but also he hoped that it would distract him from his recollections of Martha’s fantasies of him.
He was, of course, wrong.
His cock was already hard from when he had just been in Martha’s head and since the time that he’d slipped from the medical bay back to his room, it had barely subsided. He sat in the hot spray of the shower’s water, leaning his forehead against the cool tile of the wall beside him. His hearts were racing and he could feel desire rolling over him like waves.
This body, this regeneration, had always been so much more...physical than his previous incarnations. He’d barely even masturbated or let himself fall prey to his own desires for so many years until he ended up in this body, seemingly so full of hormones. Even from the first night that he was fully conscious in this body, after defeating the Sycorax, he’d felt it - that insistent physical need. He couldn’t understand how humans dealt with it all the time. He himself always just had to edge his thoughts toward more mundane matters and save his impulses for late nights alone in the TARDIS and his own wandering hands.
Martha’s fantasies had stirred him more than usual though. He had been surprised at her sexual feelings about him and how, if he were truly honest with himself, they reflected his own feelings for her. It was certainly not the first time one of his companions desired him sexually, especially when it came to the young human women. And it certainly was not the first time that he desired them in return, but he always stayed his feelings in worry of taking advantage of his position of power with them or, in some cases, them needing more emotionally from him than he could give. It was a tough road to walk, this high road, but he felt he had to keep himself tempered.
Skin on skin, his mouth between her legs, his aching sex inside her - all these thoughts rushed through his head as he leaned against the shower wall. He began to run his hands over his chest, his breath hitching a little as the swept across his sensitized nipples and his soft sensitive belly. His right hand moved to grasp his cock in his hand and his left hand moved to lightly cup his scrotum. He moaned, the sound reverberating in light echoes in the bathroom. He was pressing his forehead harder against the cool tile of the wall, as his hands moved over his sex, and it wasn’t long before he was bringing himself to a shaky climax, his seed spilling down the wall onto the shower floor and down the drain.
---
After his shower, he settled into his bed, still nude. He was rarely one to sleep, but his body was still healing itself from the effects of his exhaustive day and needed rest. As he laid in his bed that night, despite his best efforts, his thoughts kept finding their way back to what he had seen in Martha’s head. He was truly spinning out of control. He tried reading from a book or two from his nearby nightstand, but nothing could fully distract his underlying thoughts. Skin on skin, his mouth between her legs...
“Doctor.”
For a moment the Doctor thought he was just imagining Martha calling out in one of his fantasies, much like she had in her own fantasies buried in her head. His cock hardened at the thought and he laid the book on his chest, trying to compose himself.
“Doctor”, he heard again.
He sat up in his bed, pulling off his glasses and tossing them onto the nightstand, rubbing his eyes. He then tossed the book aside, jumping up to his feet from his bed as his thoughts finally kicked in as he realized he was really hearing Martha’s voice.
He grabbed a nearby robe and pulled it around himself as he rushed out of his room and down the hall, hearing Martha repeating his name. He could tell by the tone in her voice that she was in distress and he wanted to get back to her side as soon as he could.
Seconds later, he arrived at the medical bay. He saw Martha lying in the bed in the room, her face showing discomfort, yet she was still asleep. He rushed over to her, wiping the beads of sweat from her brow with the back of his hand.
Nightmares, he could feel the TARDIS say before he even had a chance to ask. Constant nightmares.
“Doctor!” Martha called out again, her body stiffening and her face full of anxiety as her eyes fluttered wildly beneath their lids. “Help me, Doctor!”
The Doctor didn’t know what he could do. Nightmares could be hard to soothe, especially in humans, and he knew that they usually were the brain trying to work things out and heal itself in some emotional way. He also knew that any attempts he had made in the past to stop someone’s nightmares had only done harm and not the intended good.
He took in a deep breath and moved Martha’s body over more in the bed, climbing into the bed next to her. He pulled her into his arms, wrapping her around him so that she was lying against his chest. He held her head against his chest, stroking her hair, as he began to softly sing a lullaby from Gallifrey, one he used to sing to his own child so very long ago. He hoped that such an old-fashioned trick would help assuage her nightmares.
---
The Doctor opened his eyes groggily and realized that he must have eventually fallen asleep with Martha. He could tell by her quiet breaths that though she was still asleep herself, the nightmares had subsided. He smiled to himself at this. He then took in a deep breath, taking in his surroundings. Martha was curled up tighter against him, this time facing him as he lay on his side with her head nestled beneath his chin. He could feel warmth against his palm and fingers and looked down to see his hand nestled between her thighs. He contemplated removing his hand from her thighs, but the scent of Martha so close to him, her breasts pressed against his chest, stayed him.
The Doctor could feel the desire welling within him again, his cock hardening as it pressed against the lower part of her belly. He closed his eyes as he thought of how close his fingertips were to that glorious apex between her thighs and how much he wanted to move his hand up to press against its warmth. Skin on skin, his mouth between her legs, his aching sex inside her - the memories of her fantasies rushed into his thoughts again, curling up against his own thoughts much like Martha curled up against his body. He worried for a moment about his close proximity to her and how it would probably be best if he moved away from her before his desires overtook him completely. He just couldn’t will himself to move, though. Well, with the exception of his hand, which was slowly sliding up her denim-clad thighs to press his fingertips against what lay in between.
A soft sigh escaped Martha’s lips as his fingers reached their intended destination, her breath hot against his exposed chest from his robe falling open a bit in his sleep. He was at war with himself to stop his ministrations, but when Martha began to slowly move her hips against his hand, he lost all resolve. He tried to be delicate, not wanting the material of her jeans to be abrasive against her. He was getting mud on him again, but it didn’t matter to him.
“Doctor?” he heard Martha sigh against him, but this time her head moved to look up at him, her eyes full of surprise as they looked into his.
The Doctor stilled his movements, his body suddenly froze, tense with fear and shame at his actions. It was like the old Earth saying of being caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “M-M-Martha,” he stammered, unsure of whether he should pull his hand away or just sit there as still as possible.
“Doctor, what are you doing?” Martha asked quietly.
He opened and closed his mouth several times silently, the only words coming to his mind frightfully out of order and too disorganized to form a coherent sentence.
“Doctor,” Martha shifted to rest herself on an elbow, eyeing him curiously, “were you touching me?”
“Hmm?” the Doctor sputtered, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with her as he looked around the room.
“Were you,” Martha repeated, this time cupping her own hand over his between her legs and pressing it against herself for emphasis, “touching me?”
Martha then slid her hand from the top of his nestled between her legs, slowly sliding her fingertips up the Doctor’s arm and neck until they came to rest against his cheek. The Doctor’s eyes had closed at this action and he was trying to keep his breath steady. Martha could see the sweat pooling at his brow.
“Doctor, look at me,” Martha pleaded in a sweet, soft whisper.
The Doctor blinked his eyes open. Martha noted they were filled with worry and fear and something else she’d never quite noticed in them before - desire.
“Martha...I...I...” the Doctor stammered. He was going to say he was sorry, he was going to apologize, but he surprised himself with a completely different ending to the sentence, “I want you.”
Martha blinked in surprise at him, but then lightly shifted her torso against him, rubbing her belly against the evidence of his arousal. The Doctor gasped in pleasure, letting out a soft moan. “I know,” Martha whispered in response.
The Doctor didn’t care what she meant. He didn’t care if she meant simply that she could tell from his erection pressed against her or if she meant that she somehow always knew. He wanted her now and he couldn’t bring himself to stop.
Their lips pressed against each other’s in a hungry kiss, their hands running along each other’s bodies. The Doctor struggled to open the clasp of Martha’s jeans, but found her distracting thumbing of his nipples making it a challenge. She stopped her touching to help him open her jeans and push them over her hips and off.
“Why am I all muddy?” Martha asked, as the Doctor pulled down her underwear after she’d gotten her jeans off.
“Long story. Tell you later,” the Doctor replied in a short, clipped way, launching his lips at her neck as he played with the hem of her shirt before moving as he began to pull it up.
Martha shrugged and helped the Doctor get the shirt up and off and shivered a little as she lay naked beside him.
“Cold?” he asked, running the back of his fingers over her chest, lingering on his breasts.
She nodded, pushing at the material of his robe to push it off him and to the floor. He could sense, though, that even though she said she was cold, that her trembling might have also been from nerves.
The two paused for a moment. The Doctor was taking in the beauty of Martha’s body before him, naked and awaiting to fulfill his desires. He could sense that Martha was doing the same as he watched her gaze sweep over his body appreciatively.
The Doctor took in a deep breath and then reached out to run his fingertips down Martha’s neck, chest, and belly, down to her thighs. “Now, where was I when you were waking up?” he murmured, lowering his mouth to her neck, suckling and licking her pulse point.
Martha gasped slightly as the Doctor’s cool fingertips slid lightly over her sex in soft circles until he finally slipped one of his fingers inside her. She arched against him, grabbing tightly onto his back as he rolled the pad of his thumb over her clit while stroking her insides with his fingertip. The warm wetness felt so good against the Doctor’s hand and the scent of her filling his nostrils made him ache with hungry desire. It had been far too long since he let himself enjoy the pleasures of a woman, he thought to himself as Martha moaned, sighed, and groaned against him.
The Doctor lifted himself from Martha’s embrace, still touching her between her legs. He looked down at her eyes and saw that they reflected his own dark desire. “I want to taste you, Martha Jones,” he whispered, feeling a little sheepish at his confession.
She only smiled in response, a wide seductive smile that tugged at his desire even more.
He kissed her fervently, before slowly trailing his kisses down her neck to settle for a few moments at her breasts. He rolled one of her nipples between his lips and tongue, nibbling lightly on it. With his free hand, he pinched and caressed her other nipple. He could feel her sex squeeze against his penetrating finger as she groaned in response to his attention to her nipples. It nearly made him want to take her right there, to push his cock deep inside her, but his mind was on other things he wanted to do first.
The Doctor moved his mouth from Martha’s nipple and began kissing lightly down her torso, his hands still both pleasing her between her legs and her other nipple. She arched against his kisses, becoming more and more wet the closer her got to his destination.
Once he moved to settle between her legs, he took a moment to take in her scent again. A Time Lord’s olfactory senses were always more heightened than a human’s and he couldn’t help but admit to himself how much he enjoyed the nuances of Martha’s varying scents. From her shampoos and perfume, to her own natural scents, he always found her intoxicating when he let himself take in her scent (usually when they hugged) and this time was no different. He also realized that he’d smelled this very scent before and never knew what it was. Now considering his knowledge of Martha’s fantasies, he found himself hardening a little more at the thought that it was perhaps because she was wet with desire around him in their past at some point.
He growled with desire at the thought and then moved to lap lightly against her sex with his tongue. She groaned loudly and tensed below him and his response was to pinch her nipple a little harder. This caused another moan to escape her lips and that was enough to cease his teasing and wrap his lips softly around her clit and begin to suckle and lick it. He also began to move his finger inside her more quickly, adding another finger to the penetration, and curling his fingertips upward to caress the mass of nerves inside her just underneath her clit. Her fingers laced themselves into his hair as he pulled her closer and closer to climax.
Martha screamed his name as her orgasm rolled through her body and he held tightly onto her as her body thrashed around the bed - still licking and touching her as the pleasure filled her entire body. He didn’t want to stop, but he could hear her gasping and knew he needed to slow his ministrations to give her a moment’s break. He slowly moved his mouth and then pulled his fingers from her. He sat up between her legs and looked at her, chest heaving as she lay against the bed covered in sweat and traces of blue mud. He then stuck the two fingers that had been inside her into his mouth and sucked them dry. Martha moaned as she watched him, her eyes focused on his fingers and how his lips wrapped around them.
The Doctor then crawled over her, never ceasing eye contact until he reached her face. He lowered a soft kiss to her lips and then trailed kisses toward her left ear. “I want to be inside you now, Martha Jones,” the Doctor breathed in a heated whisper against the shell of her ear. “Do you want me?”
He then began to lightly trace the shell of her ear with his tongue and Martha nearly yelped out beneath him. “Yes...yes...yes!”
He moved to look her in the eyes again, his expression softening a little as he brushed the hair from her eyes and ran the back on his hand along her cheek and jaw. He thought of when he’d brushed her hair from her face on the planet of the Krasno when she was lying next to him in the blue mud and how he had to reluctantly leave her to get to the TARDIS. And then his thoughts came to the telepathic invasion of Martha by the Krasno and how he was just as guilty of such an intrusion just hours before. His breath caught as the realization hit him that he was really no better than the Krasno after all and how, when it all came down, he was just as much of a monster. A monster with a handsome face that was able to fool everyone into not seeing his true nature. He could feel the tears beginning to prick at his eyes.
“Doctor?” Martha whispered, lifting her hand to stroke the side of his face and wipe the tears that began to fall from his eyes.
He didn’t know what to say. Everything he was doing just felt so wrong, yet so right at the same time. He was taking advantage of Martha’s feelings, acting on impulses galvanized by her own private desires. But were they really just her desires? He knew that he had thought of her in the late hours of many nights when they were together and that he had longed to hold her again after she’d left him that day after The Year that Never Was came to a close. He knew that his feelings for her ran more deeply than he ever dared to admit to himself on most occasions.
“Doctor, it’s okay,” Martha said below him, still stroking his face with concern in her eyes.
The Doctor gasped a little, not sure of what to say. He wanted to confess to what he had done to her and he wanted, more than anything, for her to forgive him and not have his actions breach her trust. He could not lose her trust. He just couldn’t...
“I know what you did, Doctor,” Martha interrupted his train of thought. “Last night, when you were inside my head. I know what you did.”
The Doctor stilled himself, waiting for the onslaught of berating he was sure that he was about to endure from her. He wanted to respond, but all he could get out was, “How?”
It sounded more like a breath than a word, but it was all he could manage in his desperation.
“The TARDIS. She told me. She is still in my head, still healing things. I still don’t know what all happened to us yesterday, but I know what you did and I know that you are thinking about it,” Martha responded, her tone calm and even. “I know because she can hear you and told me.”
A sob escaped the Doctor’s lips before he could stop it and he lifted a hand to cover his mouth in shame. He lowered himself flat onto Martha, pressing his face into the pillow at the side of her head, the tears now fully taking him. “I am so sorry. I am so sorry,” he whispered again and again against the fabric of the pillow.
Martha wrapped her arms around him, stroking his back. She was quiet for several long moments before finally speaking. “Doctor, I forgive you. I mean, I can’t say I am not a bit embarrassed and I can’t say that given the opportunity that I might not have done the same thing. I just…” Martha trailed off, seeming to try and find the right words. “I just want you to be happy.”
“You make me happy. Being with you makes me happy,” the Doctor sobbed.
“Then make love to me,” Martha responded. “You might have seen my desire for you in my head, but if you had no interest in me, would we be here right now? Let me give you what you want. What we both want.”
The Doctor moved to look into her eyes again and found himself transfixed. Three words were bubbling at the surface of his thoughts that he dare not say. He reached down to sink a hand into her hair, caressing it softly for a moment, and then shifted his body to push his cock inside her.
No more words were spoken between them as he took her, their bodies moving against each other in that beautiful ancient rhythm. The Doctor reveled in Martha’s moans and sighs beneath him and he moaned himself at how good she felt, especially as she raised her hips to meet his causing his penetration to be even deeper.
Martha’s eyes widened a bit as another climax rocked through her body and the Doctor kept moving within her, riding out the waves of her climax along with her. Then his own rhythm increased and he moved almost desperately against her, his hearts racing and his groans and breaths now a staccato. He breathed her name and then called out loudly as his own climax took him, his body stiffening as his seed spilled into her.
He opened his eyes and looked down at Martha who had a sweet smile on her lips. “Thank you,” he whispered. And while it wasn’t the three words he wanted to say, he knew that for him, every time he ever said it to her, it meant the same thing.