A simple tune: Sherlock x Fem!reader

Chapter 22 - We want this

There it was. That look, needy like a silent beg. Then he spoke, one word which made you feel more powerful than ever: "please,"

"Please, what?"

"Please, mistress," he whispers, letting go of the last of his pride.

"Not so hard, is it?" rubbing his cheek sweetly, you push apart his legs, palming against him before pulling away the last bit of fabric. "Look at you now... so desperate,"

"Please," he says again, a little louder. "I need you,"

"You need me now, do you? How much?"

"Really bad." Oh how you could watch him writhe all day, each syllable for mercy slipping off his lips. Licking up from the base to tip, you could feel him arch a little, hips bucking closer but you pull away. Instead, forcing him back down against the mattress.

"Behave," you say sternly, keeping your eyes on him before moaning in content against his skin. Tongue flat and dragging up, your head bobs up and down in rhythmic beats his moans sounding like an erotic tune.

A simple tune to drive you mad.

"That's it... good boy," you hum, eyeing him again, hand pumping up and down before you teasingly remove your top. Tossing it to the side, his hands tug slightly against the restraints, forgetting his position, only wanting to touch you.

Feel your skin against his, hold you tight and mark your neck with freckle-like hickeys.

"Patience," you remind, slipping off your pants and getting on him. Grinding back and forth against him, you stifle his whimpered moans with a kiss, with one hand on his neck and the other guiding him.

"Please, Mistress, I want you to ride me so badly,"

"Keep begging," you sing softly, "it's music to my ears," sinking down onto him, his head rolls back, eyes sealing shut as you moan along with him. "Don't you love it when your mistress rides you?"

"Yes, god, yes, I do," he stammers out. "I love it so much," Sherlock jerks his hips up a bit, feeling your grasp on his neck tighten until you move it up to tug at his curls. "Fuck,"

"You've been such a good boy, Sherlock, good boys always get what they want," syncing your movements, and shifting them to fit perfectly, you felt your body ignite as a certain sweet spot was hit. "Tell me what you want, baby,"

"I want to please you- I want to touch you," that was all it took, your hands unlock his from the confines, and in no time he was holding you close. Hands everywhere, caressing, squeezing and massaging. "Oh, fuck, Y/n,"

"God- yes, right there," you whimper out, mouth hung open as he fulfilled his want to mark your neck, collar and chest. "Don't stop- I'm so close,"

A hitch in your breath told him all he needed, his movements slowing to ride it out before he picks the pace back up. The feeling of sensitivity pricks at your lower half, the skin feeling hot and wet. But you kept it up, you wrap both arms around his neck and kiss him sweetly- you kiss him lovingly.

Like you used to.

Like you still want to.

"That's it, nearly there," you whisper, fastening the rhythm until he let go. That perfect glimpse of his jaw locking tight, hands squeezing yours in an intertwined moment. "There we go," you praise.

His chest heaves with every breath, harsh and uneven. Kissing the sore bruises once then twice, you take a moment to recover before retrieving a wash-cloth and cleaning him down, rubbing any sore spots with lotion and holding him in your arms.

"You did very well," you mumble, soothing any part of his scalp you tugged his hair at. "Did you want anything?"

"Sleep," he yawns softly. This brings a smile to your face, only a temporary one as you pull the covers over and hold him tight. "I love you," Sherlock mutters in an absent tone.

"No... you don't," a pitiful smile meets your face as you kiss his temple, a reply long forgotten as he fell asleep easily. "You never did,"

~~~

Yeah you're welcome

Also *splashes holy water*

Wipe those tears too bestie

- Anna ❤️