Dear God, He's Gone and Done It: Chapter 5
With that she officially fried the circuit board of Sherlock's brain. The kiss….no THE KISS….much like 'The Woman'... That was all he could call it. It wasn't A KISS….it was THE KISS. In the same way that Irene Adler wasn't A WOMAN but THE WOMAN. And, as she began her work, she ground against his hips suggestively. Sherlock thought he would die; surely whatever he just felt was the onset of a massive heart-attack. But that had been positively a tremor compared to what it felt like when her hands touched his now bare chest.
For once in his life, Sherlock couldn't understand something…and it scared the shit out of him. As many women as he had been with over the years, and as skilled as he was with them in the bed or out he could not figure out for the sake of his own life, how this tiny woman was able to do this to him. And the hell of it was neither one of them was completely naked yet, nor had they even done anything overtly sexual….just that blasted kiss…the one that hit him like a brick of C-4. If Sherlock was a big believer in God he would be asking for some kind of divine intervention right now.
Yes, he wanted just this very thing….to be able to do all of these positively filthy things as she had called them….and to start tonight was even better. But, he had not planned for the contingency that she would actually be able to read his mind so damned closely.
Barbary kept grinding against him and unfastening the buttons on his shirt as she tugged it free from his pants; every once in a while he would feel her cool hands graze his skin…and Sherlock felt like he was incinerating. She made some kind of whispered observation about the six-pack that she hadn't been expecting from him (she seemed pretty pleased to have been proven wrong). Pretty soon, the only thought process that his brain allowed him was to wrap his hands around her hips and help her grind against him as he began slowly working her camisole top up her ribcage. But she stopped him before he could completely rid her of it.
Grabbing his hands and pinning them by his head, but gently, 'No, leave it."
The shake of her head accompanied by the look in her eye told him not to ask questions.
She began to crawl off of him; something about her demeanor had changed suddenly.
"This was a bad idea…I shouldn't have…."
He stopped her, grabbing her hips again, rolling her under him; this time he ground down against her hip.
"It was a bloody marvelous idea, actually." This time he gave her a return kiss that he only hoped matched the one that she had hit him with.
"I want to see everything…" he reached for the hem of her camisole top again, sliding it up as he went. He was going to try as hard as he ever had for anything in his life….he had a feeling Barbary naked was a sight that was not to be missed.
"Sh-Sherlock…." She had stuttered and when she grabbed one of his wrists again, her hand had been shaking.
"I want to see you,' he nuzzled at her right ear, causing her to draw her shoulder up closer to her head as she giggled.
"That tickles,' she kept giggling, a bubbling sound that made him smile. He would do that 1,000 times if it would keep her mind off of what he was trying to do.
When he kept trying to raise her shirt, she scooted up into a sitting position at the head board. She ran her right hand through her hair and down over her chest to rest it against her left shoulder. She had a look on her face that told him she had something on her mind.
"What is it Barbary?"
She shook her head, apparently deciding it was easier to just acquiesce to his wishes than to give voice to whatever was going on in her head.
To try and lighten her mood a bit Sherlock nuzzled that place by her ear again, chuckling deeply when she drew up in a fit of giggles again.
"You wicked little man."
As Sherlock pulled her back under him, he ground against her once more.
"Does that feel like it will be little?"
"I'm a horrible judge of size, prove it." There was a dare in her eyes. Sherlock merely grabbed one of her wrists and lead her hand down to his crotch and pressed it to him until she took over. As he returned to his previous work, he nibbled on her right earlobe and she began using both hands to unfasten his trousers, sliding a hand inside. Once she had her hand inside of his trousers and pants she wrapped said hand around him, squeezing it snuggly as she stroked him.
"Now who is wicked, little woman?" Sherlock managed to groan out.
Finally, Barbary seemed distracted enough that Sherlock was able to slide her top off, leaving her quite naked now. He had to stop and stare for a second. He was right about his deduction. Barbary naked was worth the struggle.
"I never said that I wasn't. You persistent little devil." The last word was nearly lost as he suddenly latched on to her left nipple, sucking hard. And at that moment Sherlock wasn't sure if she meant she knew she was wicked or that she knew she was worth the struggle; it would be so like her to read his mind apparently.
Barbary's hands went into Sherlock's hair, her finger nails scraping slightly over his scalp before gripping his hair a little tightly causing him to shudder a bit. He slid one hand between their bodies and slipped a finger into her while he pinched her other nipple with his free hand.
"Sh-Sherlock." She had stuttered his name again, but this time not from any kind of fear. Oh no, he could tell the difference. Currently, she was agreeable to everything he was doing to her body; his fingers kept pumping in and out of her. Barbary wanted to buck up against him and was only marginally successful; his weight held her down.
"Sherlock, please…" it hadn't taken him as long as he thought it would to get her to the point of begging. He couldn't help the smug smile that lit up his face; he was only thankful that she had her eyes shut at the moment or it might have gone badly for him. She seemed like the kind of woman that could and would quickly turn the tables on him. Before he got her any closer to the edge, he removed his fingers from her body and stopped sucking on her nipple; at the loss of contact, Barbary gave a groan of discontent which was cut short when she felt his tongue flicking inside of her where his fingers had just been. As he continued lapping at her, he tossed both of her legs over his shoulder and kept going. When he wasn't using his tongue to flick inside of her, he would press his mouth to her and suck at her clit with the same force as he had before on her nipple.
"Oh my God! Sherlock!" without his weight holding her down, she managed to sit up, folding her body in half, pressing her hands behind her to watch what he was doing to her body.
Oh, his little minx was flexible. This should prove interesting at a later time.
"Lie back down, I'm not done yet." he smirked at her and pushed her back down onto the pillows. He went back to the work of flicking his tongue inside of her and sucking on her clit, occasionally he would add two fingers into the mix.
"Please. Sherlock! I need to c…." Sherlock had already known he had driven her too close to the edge. Before she was ever able to finish her sentence, he sucked her clit back into his mouth and grazed his teeth against it ever so carefully. There was a slightly raspy scream that came from her mouth that sounded vaguely like his name. Sherlock didn't stop his work until he had licked her clean.
She had her head turned to the side, watching him with lazy eyes. Barbary reached for him and went to wrap her hand around him again, only to have him swat it away.
"But…." She looked confused.
"There will be plenty of time for that later. Trust me. I have been picturing doing just that very thing all evening, since I first met you. But, you will sleep now. We can pick this up later, after we've rested."
"But I wanna…."
Sherlock had been slipping out of his trousers and his pants so they were equally nude; only seemed fair.
"After we sleep." He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose before lying on his back and pulling her to him, allowing her head to rest against his chest. She didn't bother to argue any further; looking down, he saw that it had less to do with the fact that he had actually won the argument, as it did with the fact that she was already asleep against him, an arm slung around his waist.
As he pulled the cover over them, Sherlock couldn't help but think about the way he had been acting since he first met Barbary just a couple of hours ago. He knew he was in dangerous, uncharted territory. Not because of inexperience in the sex department. No; the trouble for him was the way that he felt for this woman. Sherlock was not a man given to feelings. He wasn't like ordinary people; he didn't do feelings and sentiment. That was John's department. But, damn if he didn't feel like an ordinary man with feelings and sentiments at just this moment. This could either make him or kill him; it would take him some time to figure it all out. These were the thoughts that ran through his mind as he closed his eyes and gave himself over to sleep as well.
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Three hours later Sherlock jerked awake abruptly. There was a panicked scream; it came from Barbary. He looked over….Sometime in the last three hours during their sleep they had changed positions slightly. Now, Sherlock was lying on his side, an arm slung around Barbary's waist, his chin resting on top of her head, and she was lying on her back.
Since letting out her scream and waking him up, he could see she seemed to be struggling against some unknown, unseen assailant. She was still asleep but in the throes of a horrible nightmare. Suddenly, as if whatever it was that she fought against left her, she sat straight up screaming again, shoving the covers and Sherlock's arm away from her. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, she had been terrified.
Once she seemed to get herself under some control, she realized she was naked. For a second she seemed to not understand why; looking around slightly, she saw Sherlock in the bed beside her. He raised a hand to place it on her shoulder; but she jumped out of the bed, snatching the sheet as she went and raced away from the bed to lean against the wall.
As she leaned against the wall, she kept the sheet wrapped around her clutching at her chest and leaning over slightly like she was trying to catch her breath. Her heart beat just wouldn't slow down from hammering in her chest.
"Are you alright? Do you need any help?"
"I'm fine. It's just….these bloody nightmares. If you don't want to stay…."
"I'm not leaving. Come back to bed."
"I usually can't go back to sleep after…"
"You don't have to sleep if you don't want to, but just come back and rest." Sherlock squinted at her almost like he dared her to argue.
Barbary couldn't bring herself to argue at all. Nodding her head, she followed him back over to where her bed was; he crawled in first and she was right behind him. As she began to turn over on her side, facing away from him, Sherlock grabbed her and pulled her to him, pulling her to rest on top of him, her head on his chest.
"As I said, you don't have to sleep if you don't want to. But you should at least try it."
"Yeah yeah…."
As he stroked her hair, Barbary asked him about some of the cases he had worked on recently. Sherlock was pretty sure it was a blatant attempt to make him keep talking. It seemed as though she thought his voice was sexy. Once he had puzzled out some of her earlier behavior, he realized what the copy of War and Peace was for; it still brought a smile to his face to think about it.
As Sherlock described some of the recent cases he had closed for Scotland Yard, he thought more about how he was behaving with her. He was so far out of his comfort zone that he was in another galaxy altogether.
He didn't do feelings, he rarely ever did sex; and yet here he was, having sex with a woman that he barely knew and caring enough about her to want to help her when she had a nightmare. For a second it felt so surreal that he could have sworn that he and John had switched bodies. But there was something about this girl. He couldn't explain it. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, stroking her hair, listening to her breathing since it had finally levelled out.
He wondered what her nightmares were about. What was she hiding? She was American; he knew that much for a fact. That picture on her mantle was of her with her mother when she was a child. Her mother had died when she was quite young. He had yet to see any images of her father. Was he the cause of the nightmares or was there something else altogether?
As he drifted back off to sleep he resolved to bounce these ideas off of John tomorrow and see what they could come up with.
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Down at the concierge desk, Phillip and Edward were watching the monitors closely. They had caught some activity on one of the cameras that aimed at the outside perimeter of the building. From the view of that one particular camera they saw a darkly dressed man standing in the pouring rain watching the building from across the street. They could make out very many details about his appearance, but the fact that he seemed to be dressed all in black or at least dark colored clothes and purposefully staying far enough out range of the cameras bothered them.
After looking at each other for a brief second and seemingly conveying their thoughts to one another, Edward picked up his mobile and placed a call.
"I trust you have news for me."
"Sir, there seems to be someone lurking about the place. We can't make out a description except for dark clothes and out of close range of the cameras, like he knows where they are at. Phillip told me he thought he saw the man light a cigarette. We didn't know if you had placed someone else on her; I wanted to be cautious."
"Some men will be sent around to deal with it. Now, if you wouldn't mind serving my curiosity…"
"Anything you like, sir."
"Is my brother with her?"
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Post AN: So, guess who was on the other end of the phone. Hehehe. Lemme know what's up. Love my readers.