Thank you for all your reviews! I'm excited to continue this work. Note that Jim is going Jim, and therefore may be offensive. I apologize now if I'm offending anyone.

Also note that this work is also available on my AO3 account, just in case anything happens on here.

Edited 6/2018

I woke up at one in the morning to find Jim's arm draped possessively around my waist. Stirring, I slowly readjusted my position, taking care not to wake my partner. Unfortunately, he noticed immediately. Jim's hand gripped my hip.

"Where're you going, pet?" His voice was low and groggy.

"Nowhere," I curled into him and rested my head on his chest. "Just rolling over is all."

"Good..." his fingers toyed with my hair. "I chose the perfect pet."

I gave a contented smile. "And I the perfect master."

"Good girl."

When I woke up again, it was half past eight. I frowned at the lack of warmth beside me. Being alone in our bed the morning after was something I was all too used to. Moriarty was the type to fuck and run unless it was the rare occasion when we made love. The last time happened the night I came home from my short stint in the hospital after he'd burned me. That night, Moriarty was nowhere to be found and I got Jim. Jim took his time with me, both of us enjoying our slow and drawn out pleasure. He held me close when we finished, stroked my hair, kissed my neck, whispered how sorry he was, and how much he cared about me and didn't want to lose me. He never said 'I love you'...and he didn't have to. Jim always made up for Moriarty. Moments with Jim were why I put up with Moriarty.

'James,' I thought, 'why did I get involved with you?'

My neck and collarbone felt sore from the actions of Moriarty's mouth. I sat up and surveyed the damage. The down comforter and blankets were pushed off the mattress and onto the floor, the sheets were tangled, and there were only two pillows on the bed. Metal handcuffs were thrown on the floor as well. (Jim disliked the furry kind because they didn't leave 'decent bruises'). A silicone vibrator stood on the nightstand beside a Hitachi magic wand and a black blindfold. I ran a hand through my hair and pulled the sheets over my bare breasts. Jim and I certainly made a mess last night.

Mess.

Moriarty didn't use a condom. Hell, he never used prophylactics of any kind. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized that I'd been keeping up with my birth control pills. Unfortunately, they were the only protection we used, and they weren't always reliable as I'd found out twice before. Four months into being his pet, I'd had to get an abortion. Three months later, I had a pregnancy scare. As one would imagine, Moriarty wasn't particularly pleased. When we actually conceived the first time, he threw me into a wall, called me everything from a fucking cow to an idiotic twat, and wrapped his hands around my throat until I almost passed out. The second time I had a scare, I only told Sebastian and he quickly rushed me to the doctor behind Moriarty's back. When James found out a couple hours later, he threatened Seb and pushed me down the stairs for good measure. I grew extremely thankful that I hadn't forgotten to take my pill every day this week.

I carefully got out of bed and swore loudly at the pain radiating down my thighs. Once I reached the mirror, my eyes widened at the sight of my naked body. "Oh, fucking Christ!"

My neck and collarbone were covered in purple bruises and bites from James's mouth. My hair was a fiery mess around my face. Did I dare look at my bum? I turned to the side and gasped. No wonder sitting up hurt so badly. An odd mixture of purple, red, and brown markings peppered my skin. I thought back to the repetitive swats Jim gave to me last night, my screams affirming that he was my master and I was his pet as he warmed me up for sex. Moriarty and I enjoyed kinks in the bedroom, and I couldn't help but feel sorry for Sebastian having to hear our sounds from down the hall. Being five inches shorter than Moriarty made it easy for him to put me over his knee. He started with his hand, then a wooden ruler, and finally graduated to a riding crop, which he used on both my arse and breasts. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy every moment of it. No wonder I'd lasted this long with him.

As I surveyed my skin, I wondered what I was supposed to wear when he'd done his best to mark me as his so prominently. People talked when we went out. Who could blame them when he made sure I had at least one marking visible in a place where I wouldn't be able to cover it. One time, I had a black eye and stitches in my lip and no one even approached us. Instead, I received looks that screamed I'm going to call 999 and love, get out now and leave him. But no one dared call on the consulting criminal and I continued to stay.

"Miss..."

Sebastian Moran's voice startled me. I faced the marksman and carefully placed my hands on my hips. Seb had seen me naked more times than I could count. After all, it came with the territory of being Moriarty's tiger. I gestured at my body. "How am I supposed to go in public today? I mean, look at me. People will talk!"

His eyebrows shot into his hair as he stepped deeper into the room. "Seems that the boss really did a number on you last night. My apologies, Nor—"

"Nora!" Moriarty brushed past Seb and strode towards me. "Why are you naked in front of Seb? Is my kitten trying to seduce my tiger?"

I rolled my eyes. The criminal made it very clear to Seb one night in my first month as his pet that I was off-limits. Despite what Moriarty had done to him, Seb remained incredibly loyal to him. I thought it odd until I realized I was the same way. It made me wonder if there was something between them before I'd come along. Seb did his best to keep a boundary between us so as not to alarm Moriarty when he was around. Not that it mattered, obviously.

"I was just getting Seb's opinion on something." I scoffed. "You can't be serious right now."

As Moriarty moved closer, our bedroom door shut suddenly. I swallowed hard. Sebastian had taken his leave of us. I was fair game. He pulled me into a rough kiss. I gasped against his mouth when he cupped my sex greedily. He squeezed one of my breasts for a moment then lifted my chin. Our eyes met. "Oh, darling. I am..." Moriarty lifted me up slightly and slipped one finger inside me, followed closely by another, and another, as he took great care to punctuate his sentence with his digits. "...one hundred percent...serious."

"Mori…Moriarty." I squirmed, thankful that'd he'd stopped at three fingers because I couldn't take much more. I moaned as he began to finger me.

He smirked. "I want you to know, pet, that this is mine. Know that if you dare share this with anyone, even Seb, I will tear the flesh off of both of you. You know I can be quite handy with a potato peeler."

I realized then that I'd braced myself against our dresser, my thighs parted and my legs wrapped around his waist. I could hear myself panting in desperation. I came to my senses and whimpered.

"Do you understand, pet?" Moriarty's eyes narrowed and he removed his fingers.

I gasped. "Yes...yes, Jim."

"Good girl." Moriarty set me on my feet and smacked my bruised bottom. I cried out in pain. It took everything in my power for me not to slap him. "Get dressed, we have reservations. Although..." he placed his fingers in his mouth, "I could just have you instead. So delectable...mm, and practically dripping so early in the morning. You little slut, I barely touched you. I think I'll save you for dessert."

"Sherlock, I'm surprised you haven't noticed."

The curly-haired man looked at his brother. "Noticed what? The pounds you can't seem to lose on the newest diet you're trying? Do yourself a favor and eat something other than turkey and ham. You're starting to smell like it."

Mycroft shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "No. I was referring to the company James Moriarty is keeping."

"Sebastian Moran?" Sherlock looked up from his magazine. "Have the two of them made it official yet? The markings on Moriarty's neck were quite disgusting to look at during our last encounter."

"I'll assure you those markings aren't coming from a man."

"A woman, then?" John questioned. "Surely there's not one out there mad enough to sleep with him."

"There is one. Her name is Nora McNally, late-twenties, and lives with the consulting criminal."

"You're joking."

"I most certainly am not."

Sherlock, who now sat upright, narrowed his eyes at Mycroft. "How long?"

"A little more than a year."

It all made sense now. How could he have been so stupid? The purple bruises left behind on Moriarty's neck were just a hair too small to have belonged to Sebastian Moran. Speaking of hair, there was also that ginger strand on the back of Moriarty's suit jacket during their encounter a few weeks ago. How careless his enemy was. Or was he? Jim from IT was purposefully meant to test Sherlock's keen eye. Perhaps he wanted the detective to know about the woman. Moriarty was tough to follow, but this...this could change everything. If he could somehow find this girl and question her-oh, the things he could learn about his opponent.

What if that was exactly what Moriarty wanted? Perhaps this Nora was simply a pawn in his next grand game to kill Sherlock. Then again, it was likely she wasn't and the consulting criminal actually loved her. Sherlock scoffed. How quaint and careless. In any case, he knew he should go after her, find her, question her. But it would be incredibly risky. What if she truly was an idiot? No, no, she was with Moriarty, maybe she wasn't as dimwitted as he believed. She couldn't be. In order to tolerate and keep up with him, she'd have to be just as ahead as he was. In that case, she could be a trove of information. Oh, but what if Moriarty kept his home and work personas separate? If she honestly knew nothing, it would be the perfect trap for Sherlock to walk into. He shook his head. No. No. But it would be so worth it if he could get answers. He desperately needed to get ahead of the criminal this time.

Sherlock's mind raced even faster.

John raised his coffee to his lips, "Are they together?"

"That remains unclear. From what I've gathered, while they live together and have been intimate for quite some time, I don't believe they are in a traditional relationship."

"Then why bother to inform us, if they're not together?"

"Don't you think, John?" snapped Sherlock. "Mycroft wouldn't have bothered to tell us about this woman if he didn't think we could use her as leverage against Moriarty. Even if she may be an idiot, she's not completely useless. If we can get our hands on her...oh…. Quickly, tell me what else you know about Nora McNally."

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