Holmes isn't sure himself what he wants to get out of this evening; if this is all they manage to do, then he will be more than satisfied, but he would like to take off at least one more article of clothing. For now he's content with exploring Watson's neck, trailing his kisses up to his ear; he runs his tongue along the shell and scrapes his teeth against the lobe.

"I didn't until I had the distinct pleasure of kissing you," he murmurs quietly. "Now I'm quite enamored."

All those typical romantic feelings are coming back to him in a rush, and his mind is filling with images of lounging in bed with Watson (eventually) and reveling in the particular kind of intimacy that lovers share. His desire to share those things with Watson is amplifying intensely the more they are together like this, and it's quite breathtaking.