A simple tune: Sherlock x Fem!reader

Chapter 22 - We want this

Warnings: Top/Dom!reader, bottom/sub!Sherlock, brat!sherlock, brat tamer!reader, restraints: handcuffs, teasing, marking, unprotected, choking, hair pulling, mistress kink, praise kink, pet names: princess, sweetheart, ma'am and sir, angst-ish at the end~

If you don't like the warnings skip! I'm not forcing you to read it, if any of them are uncomfortable for you then simply SKIP!

~~~

"I don't need you," he pulls back with a breath.

"Neither do I, so maybe you were right," straddling his lap. "We just want this, but we don't need it," dipping down, you take a hold of his lips again, feverish kisses fueled by aggression and lust.

"I'm always right," his breath hitches when you kiss his neck. The most sensitive part of his body, your favourite spot to tease whenever you could. "You just hate to admit it,"

"Because you're an egotistical bastard," you grin as he groans, gripping at your hip tight. "Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

"Don't you start," he takes a hold of the nape of your neck, squeezing it tight with your every harsh movement, letting go slowly as you move down.

"Start what?" Looking up with devious doe eyes, his half hooded gaze was only just visible in the darkness.

"Giving me a reason to punish you, princess," he writhes a little as your nails drag down gently against his chest all the way down to his thigh.

Taking a hold of his boxer waist band, you pull it back before snapping it back making him glare. "Sorry, sir," you chuckle, palming him to watch his every jolt, his every reaction, his every breath. "So do I get control?"

"Take it before I do," pulling your hair so your head tilts up slightly, he could see the adrenaline rush to dilate your eyes.

"Is that a challenge?" Head tilting to the side, you move away, sitting on your knees and pushing your palms up his legs and landing a small strike. "Don't make me mad,"

After he jolts, he asks, "why not?"

"Because I will not hesitate to tie you up and leave you unsatisfied," this threat made a small smirk tug at his lips, eyes watching you lean over to grab a pair of handcuffs in the bedside drawer. "So be a good boy and put both hands above your head and don't make me mad,"

"Yes, ma'am," he shifts down slightly and does as told.

"There we go," leaning up, you secure him in place, lifting his chin expectantly.

"Green,"

"Good boy," you pat his cheek which you kiss gently, teeth dragging along and down his skin. Reaching the already purple spot again, the kisses became tougher, your body itching to get it over with.

But you wanted to take your time. Watch him squirm. Hear him beg. Plead.

Lower and lower you drift, humming against his skin feeling exactly what you did to him. It was intoxicating. Addictive.

"You know what I want to hear," just by his v-line, they start from the top and trail down.

"I'm not begging, so don't bother,"

"Maybe I just won't bother giving you what you want... if you don't do," your fingers walk up his chest, "what I," they reach his neck, "want," wrapping a grasp around it, the groan sent a shiver through you.

"Fuck you,"

Taking in a sharp, mocking, breath, you follow it with a chuckle. "Not with that attitude you won't,"