A/N: Thank you all for following me and taking a look at my story! I'm glad that you've all come and checked this out and that you've stuck around.
As a forewarning, this chapter is rather raunchy. So rated M for mature content. So you all know. Anyways, enjoy!
Sherlock was in Anna's flat, she playing her cello and he sitting across from her, his nerves fried and on end. One hand dug into the arm of the chair and the other scratched at the leg of his trousers.
Logically, there was no sound reason that he was there. In fact, he shouldn't be there. His mind was racing and his body was reacting to natural synapses, both entities contradicting one another.
His logical, sound mind knew that he should not be there. As much as he hated to admit this, Sherlock should listen to Mycroft; his social ties with this woman should be broken off. But ooooh. Oh his body said otherwise.
The image of Anna's pale body flashed against the insides of his eyelids.
Sherlock shook is head to himself.
As if based on pure, natural instinct, Sherlock's body and senses were acting on their own accord.
Sherlock was in a constant battle between sound reason and carnal instinct.
The fact that he was even inside Anna's flat showed that his base instincts were getting the best of him.
"This is an Elgar piece." Anna lightly muttered before setting her bow and pulling it across her strings.
Sherlock watched how she set her fingers gingerly in their proper place, how nimble they sprung from position to position. Then he imagined his fingers, how nimble they could be.
The rumble of the strings alerted his heightened senses and clenched his chest tight. Sherlock closed his eyes, tightly.
His fingers over her body, just as gentle and precise as an experiment or a Bach partita. Very precise. Very intricate.
Sherlock opened his eyes and stood up from his spot. In his state of disarray, he still noted Anna's small gasp at his sudden movement. He smirked as a small hiccup came from her song.
"Keep playing. Don't mind me."
Sherlock locked his hands behind his back out of habit and began to slowly circle her. He watched the muscles and tendons beneath her skin as her body made slight and delicate and refined movements.
When he came to her back, he found himself mesmerized at the curvature of Anna's neck. Small, wispy hairs had loosened themselves from the bun at the crown of her head. There was a splash of freckles left behind from the summer sun's kiss.
Sherlock reached out a long finger and just brushed against one.
Anna's body tensed and took a sharp breath in.
"Keep playing." He ordered from behind, momentarily breaking his obsessed gaze. Really, Sherlock was barely listening. He liked to watch.
She cleared her throat after shooting a concerned look his way and began playing once more.
Sherlock looked back to the base of Anna's neck.
"Just keep playing."
His eyes caught sight of traces of a tattoo—he smiled to himself; it wasn't surprising, though. Sherlock bent down and brought his face close to her shoulder, taking in each little freckle.
Sherlock, still in a battle between his better judgment and the desire to throw sensibility out the window, bounced his nose down her neck, counting each little mark and blemish left by the sun.
One…..
Two…
Three…
Anna's breath quickened and her song suddenly played at a faster tempo.
Four…
Five…
Sherlock noted as Anna's body tensed, then released and eased, and he sighed.
To feel her tense and then relax beneath his own heated body.
He stood up to his highest height and rolled the fine hairs at the base of her neck. Then, dropping his fingers down, they rolled down her visible spine.
To have his ears filled with sighs and moans.
Sherlock's resolve shattered.
"Shut up." Sherlock hungrily brought his mouth to her own and Anna complied. His body pushed hers harder into the wall and Anna ground her hips onto his once more. Sherlock, free of any inhibitions, let a grumble come up from deep in his throat.
Anna released her legs from Sherlock's waist and grounded her feet to the floor. Sherlock's hands circled around her torso, then traveled up, and found their way into her hair. Her hands moved within his jacket and pushed the bulky object from his frame. It landed in a dark puddle on the floor.
She pushed Sherlock down her short hallway and into her bedroom. Sherlock ran into the edge of the bed and he fell back, bouncing once or twice upon impact. Anna pounced on top of him once more, this time tugging at his shirt.
Her nimble fingers pulled and tugged at each little button. They popped free with ease. She peeled away his shirt, exposing Sherlock's broad pale chest.
Anna took advantage of the exposed skin and bowed down to his neck. She nipped and licked at the skin of his neck and collarbone. Sherlock moaned. Anna smiled to herself and sat up.
His eyes were heavy yet electric with lust and his chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. Anna pulled her hair out of the bun and let it fall around her face. Then, with a mischievous smile, Anna pulled the hem of her shirt over her head.
Sherlock's mouth went slightly agape. He reached a hand up and cupped one of her breasts. At the touch, Sherlock sat up, Anna still on his lap, and his legs over the edge of the bed.
His mouth happily brushed Anna's neck while one hand supported her bottom and the other gingerly brushed over one breast in small circles. Anna took in a slight breath when just two fingers toyed over a nipple. Anna could feel the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile as it traveled further down. At the same time, his free hand pulled apart the fastenings of her bra.
Anna shrugged the piece of clothing off and Sherlock sighed.
Before Sherlock had the opportunity to continue, Anna pushed him back against the bed once more. Her mouth left kisses from his lips, down past his neck and chest. As she ventured farther and farther down, Anna could see Sherlock propped up on his elbows, watching her each movement.
Once passing his navel, Anna looked up with a raised eyebrow and gripped her hand around his clothed erection. Sherlock took in a sharp breath and rolled his head back.
Standing straight up, Anna pulled at the buckle of his belt and pulled it from the loops. She flung it across the room with a little laugh. She pulled the button from his trousers and pulled the zipper down, then pulled them down his hips and off his legs. Sherlock was left in a pair of dark boxers, his erection standing taller.
Anna came back to the bed, much like a prowling cat. On her hands and knees, she crawled up to meet Sherlock, who had scooted all the way back so his head was on her pillows. With a smile again, Anna straddled his waist.
In a quick second, Sherlock rolled them around so that he was lying in between her legs. Mimicking her actions, Sherlock rocked his erection into Anna's sensitive nub. Anna gripped his arms tightly.
"Uuugh. Sherloooock."
And that was enough for both of them. They both discarded the remaining clothing items they had left and threw them in various directions across the room. Anna wrapped her arms tightly around his back and Sherlock guided his erection into her waiting body.
At the warm, moist channel surrounding himself, Sherlock groaned. His head fell into the nook of Anna's neck. She bit her lip.
They started a slow, steady rhythm and their hips met each other with enthusiasm and fervor. At the tantalizing pace, Anna found herself biting at the exposed skin of Sherlock's neck.
Sherlock gave out a soft guttural grunt and pushed himself in deeper. Anna rolled her head back and they brought their pace to a faster, rougher pace. Her hands scraped down his back and pulled Sherlock closer to her body.
Supporting his body on one arm, Sherlock brought his other hand down the length of her torso. Anna gasped at the contact of his long fingers to her sensitive nub. His fingers rolled in small, quick circles.
Sherlock began to move quicker as he could feel Anna's inner walls clench around his hard length, feeling close to his release.
Their bodies both tensed as their orgasm came to completion and they let out soft moans and sighs.
Robert was occupied in a practice room. The fine arts building was rather vacant on the late Saturday night, as many students would rather be out for a drink instead of drilling scales and passages. However, Robert's viola was firm on his shoulder and his fingers began to ache.
From the piano, his mobile began to vibrate, causing the inner strings of the instrument to vibrate. He would have answered it were it not for the Wagner tune from Ride of the Valkyries.
This jingle, set specifically for one IMPORTANT person, always made Robert cringe.
He picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Did you find it yet?" The raspy voice from the other end asked.
Robert sighed and set his instrument in his case, then ran his fingers through his hair.
"No, Sir. Not yet."
"Why are you my wasting time, for fucks sake?"
"I'm working on it! I'm close, I know it."
"No. You had your chance. Time is up." The voice growled. "Find it or I will." The voice hung up.
Robert sat down on the piano bench and thought.
He needed to find this object. But he didn't want anyone to get hurt. But if he didn't find it soon, he knew that that would be inevitable.
He frowned and fingered the buttons on his mobile.
Finally getting the courage, he pressed the green button to call out. The dial rang several times.
"Robert, hi!" The bright voice sung from the other end.
"Hi, Anna."
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm fine." He chuckled a little, instantly regretting his next actions. "I was wondering: are you free tomorrow for a rehearsal?"
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