Hey, just a heads up, they're 19 here, just like they are in my other Holmesbury story, We Should Just Kiss Like Real People Do. I imagine the stories to be concurrent. Let me know if you think they're in character.


Tewkesbury liked to think of himself as a fairly sane and stable person, but this Enola Holmes was driving him to the brink.

"Oh, please, Tewky? I just want to try it. I've never kissed a boy before," she pleaded, walking backward in front of him as they wandered his garden. He fought the blush that had surely been rising since she first brought up the topic.

"That's a lie. You've kissed me plenty of times."

It was true, they did love to kiss each other, but neither had ever spoken about this particular habit of theirs aloud, along with the hand-holding and bed-sharing. It always hung in the air like some secret that everyone could sense. It didn't seem to give her pause that he'd finally brought it up.

"Not like this though. Please?"

"It's improper, Enola."

She smiled mischievously and said, "Nothing is improper in private."

When she took his hand, he beat back the butterflies and let her lead him behind the garden shed, out of sight of the front of the house, but anyone coming to Basilwether Hall would be able to see them. It sent a thrill through him that he couldn't describe.

Behind the shed, she pinned him between her body and the wood of the wall. With one hand on his hip and the other on his jaw, she tilted down her face and stretched up on her toes to press her lips to his. He ducked down to meet her and couldn't stop the happy sigh. He liked kissing Enola. It felt like jumping off a train but without all the bruises.

She pressed her tongue to his lips and they parted on instinct. It was hot and wet as it seared its way through his mouth. His head spun and he gripped her skirt, fighting the urge to pull her body against his. As if she could sense his improper desires, she stepped into the space between his legs. With every move, her chest brushed against his and he prayed she couldn't hear his heart hammering against his ribcage. Her hand on his hip squeezed like a vice.

When she finally stepped away, she was giggling and he was breathless, eyes fixed on the sky above to center his thoughts. He felt like he might fall over, like the world had been flipped on its head.

"That was weird," she laughed, pressing another quick kiss to his lips.

"Yes," he finally said as he untangled his fingers from her skirt. "It certainly was."

"Messy as well," she added, wiping her mouth. "We'll have to practice. I still prefer the other kind of kissing."

"I do too," he said, proving it with another chaste kiss that had her laughing airily.

"Yes, I much prefer those kisses."


Maybe Miss Enola Holmes was doing it on purpose. There was a certain glint in her eyes when she drove him out of his mind like she wanted to make him her next case.

"I think it will be fun," she insisted as they ducked into an alley on the way back to Covent Garden. He gulped and followed, wary of this newest thing she's learned on her adventures.

"What kind of kissing is it?" he asked as she pushed his back against the stone wall, just like she had at the shed.

"Neck kissing," she said with a grin. His heart hammered in his chest at the thought of kissing Enola's neck or of her kissing his. "And you have such a lovely neck, Viscount Tewkesbury, Marquess of Basilwether. Care to give it a go?"

He could only really nod as she stepped between his legs again, balancing against his chest with her hands as she stood on her toes to reach his neck. Surely now she could feel his heart threatening to burst right out of his skin.

When her lips touched his neck, he gasped and he felt her smile against the juncture of his neck and shoulder. First she gave him a chaste kiss there before opening her mouth and pressing her hot tongue to his pulse point. He made a noise and gripped her hips tightly.

As she laved kisses on his neck, her hands slid slowly up his chest to his shoulders before going back down his arms to his wrists. Her kisses moved to the pit of his throat, sucking like she was trying to take his voice from him. He gasped and then moaned, squeezing her hips more tightly. She pulled one of his hands loose and pinned it to the wall by his head, gripping him tightly around the wrist as his arm bent at the elbow.

"Enola," he began to say, but then her mouth latched onto the other side of his neck and he was a goner. He tilted his head to give her more room.

Her mouth travelled up the column of his neck to kiss him under his jaw. He could hear her breathing in his ear and then when she bit his earlobe, he thought he might die. The sound he made was entirely unbecoming of a viscount, not to mention a marquess.

She pulled away laughing and he could only stare down at her in a daze. She kept him pinned to the wall with one hand and the other tangled fingers with the hand he still had on her hip. With a step back, she surveyed him, a joking smirk still settled on her lips.

"You look ravishing, Tewky," she finally said, eyes roving up and down his form. His neck felt raw and he knew people would notice. "What did you think?"

The first sound out of his mouth was a squeak, so he cleared his throat and tried again.

"I w-wouldn't mind trying that again."


It's possible that he was doomed to a life of insanity the day he met Enola Holmes and let her pull him off a moving train. She surely tried to prove it every day.

"I want to touch you."

He looked up at her, mouth agape. Her hand on his chest kept him balanced above him. They had been laying side by side, trading kisses on the grassy hilltop, but she'd pushed him onto his back and propped herself up on her elbow to lean over him. He could feel the swell of her breasts brushing the side of his chest and he thought to himself, 'I'd very much like to touch you too.'

She scanned his face and smiled to herself. "That's a yes, isn't it? I can see that you want to."

Still, she waited for a verbal confirmation, so he cleared his throat and rasped, "I-I do. You can."

Enola grinned. The hand that she had on his chest slid up to his neck before sliding back down to the apex of his legs, settling firmly on the stiffness there.

"O-Oh," he stammered, stiffening out like a board under her touch. On instinct, his hand flew to her hip.

"I've seen women grab men here. The men seemed to like it. Do you like it?" she asked. Her hand was warm and the sun lit her wild curls like a halo. The hand he held to her hip went up to cup her jaw. She smiled some more and said, "I like the way you're twisting your face, Tewkesbury."

He tried to send her a withering glare, but then she squeezed his length and he moaned as his vision unfocused.

"What's it called?" she asked.

He knew there were better, more proper words for it, but as she palmed him where he wanted her touch the most, all he could think to choke out was, "C-cock."

"I like that. Do you like when I touch your cock?"

"Hnng."

Yes, Enola Holmes was doing it on purpose.


He was getting worse, anyone could tell. His life seemed to hinge around Enola. He spent every hour he could with her, and when she was off on her adventures, he filled his thoughts with her. His nights were now restless and interrupted with short-lived pleasure. She'd lit a fire that no one but she could douse.

"Tewky, you look terrible."

"Oh, is that so?" he snarked, dragging her into his study before dropping back into his desk with the book he had been reading.

She came to his side and sat on the desk, facing him. "What happened?"

"Nothing. How was your case?"

"It went fine. You don't get to get out of this so easily. What is the matter?"

She was adamant, leaning forward to look at him with steely eyes. Once again, his heart warmed at the thought of her love for him and his love for her. Then his heart burned at the thought of showing it all to her.

"Can't you tell?" he said, a little too angrily. "You've driven me half mad."

"It was bound to happen sooner or later," she answered quickly. "But why?"

His laugh was harsh and humorless as images of her came unbidden to his mind, above him and below him, sweaty and screaming, everything a man could dream of. And dream he did.

"Because you kiss me whenever you please and touch me whenever you like and I must just sit and endure it."

The color drained from her face.

"If you didn't want to-"

"No, no, of course I wanted to!" he quickly amended. "Have you seen yourself? Who wouldn't want to? It's just… you've sparked things in me, Enola, things that don't rest easily."

"What kinds of things?" she asked as a blush rose to her white cheeks. Her eyes were darker now and trained on him. She was leaning in, whether consciously or not.

"The things you do to me," he said, thinking carefully on his words so as not to ruin everything, "I'd like to do them to you."

She swallowed harshly and a spike of fire shot through his body.

"I'd like that as well."

That was not where he saw this going.

Tentatively, he reached up to grasp her knee and kept his eyes locked on hers, afraid that this was all a dream and if he moved too quickly it would all disappear.

Enola slid herself along the desk so that she was seated in front of him, her feet bracketing his hips in his chair. Her skirt was long and plain, brown like the soil that he spent most of his day in.

She pooled into his lap like water, knees coming to either side of his body. She settled over him, hot and heavy and everything he had ever dreamed of.

Tewkesbury stared at her with wide eyes as she reached down with one hand and grabbed his hand, bringing it up to cup one of her breasts. His mouth dropped open and she chewed her lip, taking his other hand to rest it on the curve of her bottom.

"What's the matter, Tewkesbury?" she teased, even though he could read the anxiety in her eyes. It calmed him a little to know that she was just as afraid as he was. "Never touched a girl before?"

"You know damn well that I haven't, Holmes."

That made her smile and he did too. The courage he knew her for took over as she gripped him by the hair and pulled his head forward to settle at her neck.

The marquess sat there for a moment, hands full of the love of his life and lips pressed to her collarbone. He realized he was very lucky indeed.

He peppered her neck with kisses before his tongue joined the mess. She sighed and shifted in his lap, sending a shiver down in his spine that had him squeezing his hands unconsciously.

"Oh."

That was new.

He squeezed her again and was blessed with another sound.

"Oh, mmm."

He liked that very much.

See, normally he was the one to make all the sounds, but it seems reciprocation is key to evoke some noise from Enola. So of course, he did it again.

"Oh, ah," she gasped as he sucked along the column of her neck. With the hand cupping her ass, he pulled her into him so that his other hand was trapped between their chests and she could surely feel his hard member pressing against the junction of her thighs. She whimpered and he saw stars.

"Yes," he whispered against her neck between kisses, going into a frenzy as his hands explored her body and his hips strained to stay still.

She hummed when he massaged her breast, so both hands focused their efforts there as her legs squeezed his hips like a vice.

"Ung," he grunted, jerking forward and upward into her. For an ephemeral, glorious moment, the pressure in his dick was relieved before doubling tenfold. He whined against her neck and groped her relentlessly until she couldn't keep herself still, squirming in lap like she did in his dreams.

"I know what you're doing," she teased, using her grip on his hair to pull him loose from her neck and look her in the eyes. She was so beautiful that he thought he might lose it all then.

"Is that so?" he said, trying and failing to regain his composure. All he could think of was the pressure, the heat, the feel of her.

"I'll have you know that it's a game you'll lose," she said and before he could ask what she meant, her lips were locking around his pulse point and her hips were rocking over his.

"Holy shit," he gasped and she smiled against his neck like she always did. "You'll be my undoing, Enola Holmes."

"I plan on it."


If you like the way I wrote them, make sure to check out my other Holmesbury one-shot, we should just kiss like real people do.

And don't forget to leave a comment, even if it's just a smiley face :). All encouragement counts. (Also ideas. If you have ideas, feel free to share.)