The days since her rescue had been lived in total silence save for sparse questions and complicit answers, including the flight home. But they didn't need to talk, much of their interactions went unsaid, even before.

Karachi had changed everything. Irene Adler had expected to die kneeling there on the hard ground as the dust of her actions settled around her... when the sigh of her own voice echoed through the text alert she knew so well, she looked up to lock eyes with Sherlock and her world completely changed in an instance. Lives shed for her life and now she was freed. Or rather, as free as she'd ever be.

Drying her hair with the plush white monogrammed hotel towel, Irene Adler looked over at Sherlock who stood perched in front of his laptop at the ornate desk. The hotel room he'd picked was old and decorative. The clientele were allusive and secretive... she'd know, she'd been here many times before. His fingertips pressed together hovering close to his nose, his eyes scanning, brow pursed, Sherlock was studying up on his brother. His plan to leave Irene tomorrow had to go off smoothly so he could slip back into his life with no question and so she could be off into hiding. Checking into the hotel had been a stealth operation so Mycroft wouldn't know and checking out had to go just as well. But there had been a snag in his plan he failed to see... he always failed to see the human things.

Irene Adler smiled wickedly as she dropped the hand towel she was drying her hair with and said clearly, "Sherlock?"

Pulling his eyes away from his laptop, the gaze from the puzzle that fogged his view and was only perceptible to him cleared as he looked upon The Woman. Her wet hair, trailing down her neck and shoulders. Her lips painted blood red. Her body... his thoughts faltered...

She was wearing a sheer black bra and matching high cut underwear. She hadn't had those with her before. She had to have bought them. But when?

Irene Adler watched as Sherlock's eyes dart back and forth as he tried to figure out how and where she had acquired such... things...

"I popped down to the shop while you were working," she answered his unasked question. Her arm perched on the door to the bathroom they'd shared for a day. With a swish of her hips she walked towards her bed.

"Don't tell me you didn't notice I'd gone?" She said with a cunning smile as she laid down on the bed seductively. Her blue eyes fluttering.

Sherlock faltered at the curve of her hips and the squish of her breast, "I... I didn't."

"It was less than 20 minutes, you were preoccupied. The bathroom door and hotel room door sound almost imperceptible. I noticed the moment we got here."

"Did anyone see you?"

"Dressed in what I wore through the airport? Doubtful." She studied him a moment before continuing, "now the question is... do you see me, Sherlock Holmes?"

Sherlock swallowed. In the split second before he did it, he knew it would be a dead giveaway and yet... he glanced, momentarily, down her figure.

Irene Adler smiled.

Slowly peeling herself off the bed, she walked past his own bed, up to Sherlock, closing his computer.

"I was-" Sherlock said, looking at his computer.

"I know," She replied, grabbing his chin gently and pulling it to look at her.

There was a long silence in the room. Sherlock noted Irene Adler's damp hair, the few drops of water trailing down her chest, her perked nipples tight under the sheer bra indicating arousal, the curve of her waist and the very delicate fabric over her hips. Her lips drew closer to his and as they did so, one corner quivered in a slight smile.

"But you see me." She whispered, still gentle grasping his chin.

"I'm a high functioning sociopath, not visually impaired." Sherlock breathed.

"High functioning..." she breathed, so quiet it was barely perceptible as she let her fingers trail down the front of his button up shirt until he grabbed her hand, letting it hover just above where it was going next.

Irene Adler leaned in and let her lips just barely graze Sherlock's. She let out a small breath against his before she kissed him fully.

He leaned in and kissed her back. The passion and need in his lips set her body aflame as his hand holding hers swiftly pinned it behind her back. He stood, lifting her and placing her on his lap as he sat on his bed beneath her. She gasped as she straddled him, feeling his considerable hardness between the her thin underwear and his pants.

They did better without talking anyways. They kissed for what felt like ages, something she'd done so infrequently in the proceeding years. It was invigorating and he knew what he was doing. When they broke apart for a breath, he immediately kissed down her neck to her breasts. He bit her nipple through the thin mesh of the bra as his hands went behind her back and fiddled with her bra. He fumbled, trembling slightly, and she smiled genuinely. His facade of confidence broken in a small tremble of hands. However she needn't say anything, for they always did better without talking.

With a swift move of her own hand, her bra unhooked and he stared, breathing heavily. His large hands gently smoothed the bra straps down her arms, exposing her breasts. Her breath was ragged in her chest. He studied her body, eyes scanning, before leaning in and grabbing her breasts and rolling her nipples in his mouth, biting and squeezing as she gasped... then she moaned.

It was her turn to fumble. She had expected... so much less. By all accounts she assumed he knew nothing and she assumed this would feel normal to her, just a game to be played. Her hands quivering as she unbuttoned his shirt and he shrugged it off. Her hands trembling as they traced his shoulders, his back, his chest, before moving to his belt. But she stopped herself. Her plan was going awry and she didn't even care as she succumbed to his touch.

"Are the rumors true?" She asked, pushing her hair back, her lips swollen from kisses, her lipstick smeared on his lips. "Are you a virgin?"

"And if they are?" Sherlock said, his eyes narrowing as he looked her dead in the eyes, not darting or scanning.

"I just... want to know," Irene Adler said, "before continuing."

"They are." Sherlock answered matter-of-factly.

With an intake of breath, her pupils dilating, she breathed, "then do I have permission to continue?"

"Please," Sherlock said before kissing her deeply.

She swiftly undid his belt and snapped it like a whip behind her before tossing it over her shoulder and laying him down on his back. She kissed her way down his chest to his navel and his breath hitched. This time, her smile was wicked, as she undid his pants and undressed him fully.

Naked on the bed before her she got up and paced at the end of the bed, "well, well, well. And what shall I do next, Mr. Holmes?"

Breathing heavily, he watched her watch him and he could tell she was pleased as she looked at his splayed body on the bed. It was his turn to smile wickedly.

"I think we both should be in equal states of undress, don't you think? And I've already seen you naked... did you forget?" His mouth twitched.

"Oh, I haven't forgotten," and slowly, Irene Adler stripped herself of her underwear.

"Come here." Sherlock said, his voice full of need.

"I believe I'm the dominatrix, Mr. Holmes." She said commandingly, but the slight quiver in her voice gave it away and she knew the minute she stuttered his name for he smiled slightly.

She slowly got back onto the bed on top of him and with a swiftness, his fingers touched her wetness, so delicately, so gently, that she sighed. Her back arched as she kneeled over him. His eyes narrowed as he did it again and again, her breathing becoming more ragged. He stopped only to reach under his pillowcase and grab something.

A condom.

"I thought you didn't notice me leave?" She said, breathing heavily, her breast heaving.

"I didn't," Sherlock admitted, smirking, "but I knew you'd try something and I wanted to be prepared."

He sheathed his length with it quickly, more quickly than many clients, and she watched as his cock twitch. When she looked up, he was studying her. She lowered herself, grazing her body against his all the way up until their mouths met and he flipped her over so she was pinned under him. He was at her entrance in an instance.

"You once told me you'd have me beg." He said. Not a question, but a statement. "Twice."

Irene Adler nodded, biting her lip.

"Do you want me?" Sherlock said, his eyes twinkling, a playful smile across his mouth.

"Please." She begged.

Sherlock leaned in, biting her ear, he whispered again, "do you want me?"

"Please," she said louder.

With that he entered her and gasped. She pressed herself against him and bit his neck. He moved fast at first, then slower, then faster again. She cried out in pleasure as he studied her reactions to movements. It was different than he expected, but not unlike any other puzzle he solved. He liked reading her face and figuring out what to do. He sucked on her skin, her breasts, and kissed her, until finally, he came.

They lay on the bed together, breathing heavily.

"But you didn't...?" He trailed off before finishing.

"I didn't." She said, cocking a brow up.

"How do I? You know...?" He asked her as she watched him. It brought her a thrill in many ways to see him puzzled.

"I'll show you." She said. She liked to keep control in the bedroom and she had decidedly not been in control only moments habits die hard.

Her hand went down to her folds as Sherlock watched her. Her fingers slipping up and down. She spread her legs and he watched more intently, always studying. She touched her breasts and his chest with her other hand. He kissed her, on her lips, her neck, her nose. His kisses tender and curious. She sighed and gasped and moved her body until she came, sighing his name.

"Interesting," She breathed as she looking down him, "ready to go again so soon, Sherlock?"

And with one swift move he picked her up and carried her into the bathroom, kissing her the whole way there.

xx