Irene rested her head on Sherlock's chest and fell asleep. He couldn't believe it. Her breathing and her pulse were of someone sleeping. You couldn't fake that. And yet, maybe she could fake that. She was lowering her guard to make him believe he could lower his too. He wouldn't though. He had underestimated her too many times already. This didn't change anything.
He concentrated on controlling his desire. That was his obsession at the moment. Understand the reach of this desire and how he would be able to control it. He imagined that since they've spent the most part of the night having sex he would be satisfied now and his body reactions would be easier to control. He could control his body to not fall asleep even considering his physical exhaustion, how could he not control that desire. There should be a way. There had to be a way.
He wanted to stay in there for another day exploring this new drug and it's influences on him, but he wasn't sure if he could keep her in there for that long. The problem with that new drug was that it had a mind of its on and a very annoying and unpredictable mind that was.
She had already fallen asleep. When she woke up she would be hungry and would probably want to leave the room.
He didn't wanted to loose sight of her, because he knew that as soon as she was off his surveillance she would do something illegal and he would have to bring her down. If he didn't, someone, someday might, and he would not have anyone else catching her.
All other reasons for not letting her go were irrational and he forced himself not to focus on them, although he admitted that the sexual desire made the irrationality very powerful. He would learn to master that, as he had mastered other physical needs. He just needed her there to experiment and to practice.
After another hour she woke up and stretched herself like a cat. He began to kiss her, impatient. He wanted to be inside her again.
"Oh, don't you ever get tired?" She complained, amused with his kisses.
"You had time to rest." He said.
"Yes, well, I'm hungry now." She said pushing him away.
"Obviously." He said annoyed.
She smiled. "I know it must be hard to understand that when you don't need food nor sleep." He sighed. "Do you have anything to eat in the house?" she asked.
He thought about it. He didn't know. He hadn't bothered to eat anything in the last 36 hours. He was in a case. If there was nothing to eat she would want to leave the flat and it would be harder to control the situation.
She sighed, as he didn't answer. "I'll go check." she said, attempting to leave the bed.
"No." he said holding her down. "I'll go, you stay here."
"I'll go with you." She said attempting to stand up again.
"No." he said again, this time louder and firmer, like an order. "You stay in here. I'll bring you some food." he stood up and began to dress,
"You know, you are a bit too paranoid. You need to relax."
"Not around you. I don't trust you and you fooled me enough times in the past. I'm not going to let that happen again. I'm done underestimating you."
"That's rude." She said offended. "For your information, Sherlock, women like a little bit of sweet talk and cuddling after having sex with a guy."
He stared at her a little concerned about that remark. She stared back with a defiant look. "You're not like other women." He just said and finished dressing.
"Is that a compliment?"
"It's a fact."
Sherlock picked up a pair of handcuffs he had in his bedside table and before she could realize what he was doing, cuffed her to the bed pole.
"Hey." She complained.
"This will keep you here." He said with a smile, amused for being able to surprise her.
"Why didn't you tell me you had these before? We could have had fun with them." She said teasingly.
"Hold that thought." He said with a hungry smile. "I'll be right back."
He ran down the stairs and went to the kitchen to look for some food. John was there.
"Good morning, John." Sherlock said without really looking at him. He opened the refrigerator. There was a pack of meat, a cart of milk almost finished, a few vegetables clearly inappropriate for consumption, and two bowls with severed human fingers on them. He picked up the milk and went to look in the cabinet.
"So, I got home from work last night and you were already in your room." John said, trying to make conversation.
Sherlock ignored him. Inside the cabinet there were two bags of chips, a pot of pickles and some condiments. He would have to go see if Mrs. Hudson had some food.
"What are you doing?"
"I need food." Sherlock answered trying another cabinet, which was completely full of empty pots.
"That's new. I don't think I've ever seen you search for food before. Thought you could live on tea alone and an occasional dumpling from the Chinese next door."
"It's not for me." Sherlock said. Tea was a good idea.
"Oh. Right." John said a little uncomfortably. He had heard the sounds coming from Sherlock's bedroom last night. They weren't too worried about being discrete. "Who is it for?" he asked.
"Adler." Sherlock said looking at John and realizing he had a cup of tea in his hand and a plate with two toasts in front of him.
John choked on his tea
"Can I have those?" Sherlock asked ignoring his friend struggle to breath. He took the cup John had just placed at the table and the plate with the toasts, one of them was already half eaten but it was better then pickles.
"Irene Adler?" John asked, not noticing his food was being stolen.
"Yes." Sherlock answered turning back to the stairs, with the plate and the cup, happy to have solved the problem sooner than he expected.
"Wait a minute." John put himself between Sherlock and the door. "Are you telling me you spent the night... That you've... That Irene Adler is in your room right now? And that you're bringing her breakfast?" John looked at the plate and cup in Sherlock's hands. "My breakfast."
"Well, yes."
"Ow, I didn't see that one coming."
"You don't see many things, John. Now excuse me. I have to go."
Sherlock rushed up the stairs. When he got inside the room his blood froze. She wasn't in the bed. The cuffs where still in the pole but she wasn't there. Then he heard the sound of the shower running. He left the food in the counter and entered the bathroom relieved to see her silhouette behind the plastic curtain.
"How did you get off the cuffs?" he asked.
"Oh, please." She just said with disdain. "And you said you were done underestimating me."
That was unnerving. It seemed she was one step ahead of him all the time. That had to stop. He left the bathroom and threw himself on the bed. The sheets smelled of her perfume and he stood up again. He needed to think and that smell would not help.
She left the bathroom with his towel around her. Her hair was wet and dripping on the floors and she looked like a Greek goddess just out of the ocean. She smiled at him. He looked away, determined not to loose control again.
"Hm, half a cup of tea and one and a half toasts. Sherlock, you shouldn't have." She said with sarcasm, grabbing the half toast and sitting on the bed.
"It's food." He just said sitting back on the bed, facing her. The control part wasn't working too well.
He watched her eat the second toast and finish the tea. When she put the cup back on the bedside table, he climbed over her, kissing her softly on the lips. His hands began to undo the towel that was covering her, but she stopped him.
"Now what? You've eaten." He said annoyed with her resistance.
"I have to go." She said amused with the contrast of him. All his masculinity, physical strength and brilliant mind mixed with that attitude of a stubborn boy denied of his toy.
"Why?" he asked suspicious.
"I told you. I have a meeting with a movie director. It's a lunch meeting and it's already ten thirty. I still have to go to my hotel and change."
"You can't go. I'm not done with you." He said in a tone that wasn't expecting objection.
She just smiled and pushed him away from her, beginning to pick her clothes from the floor and putting them on. He wanted to stop and restrain her but was afraid that if he used physical force she would be even more resistant. He needed to persuade her to stay some other way.
"Please, stay. I really want you to stay." He begged lowering an octave of his voice, standing up and embracing her from behind kissing the back of her neck very softly. The effect of that on her was very visible. Her pulse accelerated and the hair of her neck and arm raised a little. His hands moved up grabbing her breasts. She took a deep breath when he did that and he felt her resistance breaking.
He had some control of her desire too, that was interesting. He liked this game. His mouth traced his way through her jaw line. When he began to slowly suck her right ear lobe she moaned loudly.
"Oh man, you're good." She said and he turned her around, shutting her up with a kiss. She threw her arms around his neck and let him slowly pull her to bed.
When they were almost there, she pulled his leg with her own, making him loose balance and fall heavily on the bed, while she remained standing a few inches from it.
"Very, very good." She said a little breathless, stepping back from him. "But I really have to go."
He watched her with interest as she finished dressing while repeatedly looking back at him, with a hint of regret in her gaze. She knew how to control herself over the desire because it was clear that she wanted him, her skin was flushed, her breathing was uneven and he was sure that if he got closer again there would be other physical evidences. But when he moved she stepped further back.
He smiled amused with that newfound power over her. He sat on the bed and crossed his fingers over his chest.
"Good boy." She said with a wink, acknowledging his retreat of the game.
"This isn't over." He said.
"Good." She said getting closer and pecking him on the lips before stepping away again and walking to the door. "Well, this had been real fun. See you later, Sherlock." She said opening the door.
"This doesn't change anything." He said.
She turned back and looked at him questioning.
"You're not going to escape me again. You make one mistake I'll put you down."
She grinned. "Not if you can't catch me." she said teasingly. "Bye. Wish me luck." She yelled already rushing down the stairs. "Bye, John." He heard her say, when she passed through the leaving room.
A few senseless grunts were John answer and then he heard the door.