The bonds we make 3
Chapter name:
Game over.
~John~
It sickens me how much I need to know number 10. It's all I ever think about now.
I can't let him do that to me, it's wrong. So very wrong and makes me feel wrong. It's dirty and twisted. It's horrible.
Fuck.
My eyes flicker open. My legs are tied down and I tug on my arms, which are chained to the bed posts.
I don't remember sleeping, I didn't even feel tired.
I taste lead in my mouth and bite down on cold metal.
"Sherlock?" I try to say but it's muffled by the metal bar.
"Good morning John, how did you sleep?" Sherlock smiles, standing up from a chair.
"Fuck you!" I try to yell, only managing a muffled version.
"Watch yourself John, I wouldn't recommend pissing me off, while I'm in charge here." Sherlock smirks, running his finger over my jaw and down my neck, raising goosebumps.
"Do you realise how beautiful you look like this?" Sherlock says, lifting my chin so I can't avoid his stare. I stare back, standing my ground, refusing to blink.
Then the itching question comes to my mind. Number 10. What was number 10?
I push, hard, on the metal bar with my tongue, somehow freeing it my mouth. It hits the floor with a clutter.
"What's number 10?" I ask, still staring at him.
"Number 10..." He draws out the sentence, edging his face closer to mine.
Our lips are so close, my breathing hitches. He's going to kiss me.
He pulls away last minute.
He removes his hand from my face, lingering with soft touches. More goosebumps.
He bends down on both knees, hands now on my shoulders.
"You fell asleep. Asleep means weakness. I told you already." changing the subject.
"I need sleep!" I protest.
"I know, shh. It's okay." He says, covering my lips with a soft slender finger, before moving it back to my shoulder.
His hands moving in circles, massaging my shoulders. I roll my head back, it's feels kind of nice.
"You like it." He says, smirking at me.
"Everybody likes massages." I pout.
"No, you like this. The restraint, the fear that I could do anything I wanted to you. It turns you on. You want this." He deduces, stringing me up to dry. It's not true, I try telling myself, but I'm not even sure anymore.
I don't know what to say to that, so I don't say anything at all.
His hands slide down my chest to my waist, resting there. Warmth spreading to all the wrong places and the butterflies in my stomach makes me hate myself.
"Sherlock..." I warn, although there's nothing I could do.
"John, why must you resist me? You know I couldn't hurt you, not now not ever." His thumbs slipping under my T-shirt, tracing circles on my skin.
I squirm, trying to get away from the amazing feeling. He stops and I whimper like a sex crazed pig.
"Should I continue?" He asks, unsure.
I close my eyes tight and nod against my own will, controlled by a terrible need.
I feel the warmth return and it's heavenly, although it shouldn't be.
"Just-" I can't speak. "Just tell me what number 10 is." I'm begging.
"I can't." His hands rise further up my bare chest, under my shirt.
"Untie my hands!" I demand, and the warmth disappears while he unlocks the handcuffs.
Then the hands return, warm and delicious. I can't stand being away from him, needing to touch and taste and devour.
I pull up my shirt and over my head, freeing his hands to roam further and quicker.
"My legs!" I yell, too far away from him. He quickly removes the rope.
I bring him down on top of me, pulling by his shirt, unbuttoning it quickly. I let it slip torturously slowly off his pale porcelain shoulders. I bring him in and our lips meet in a passionate embrace.
He moves away, as if burned by my touch, staring in horror.
"Sherlock?"
He stands, walking away, then running, then sprinting. I hear his bedroom door creak open and slam shut.
"Come back." I whisper to no one.
~Sherlock~
That was close. I almost lost it. Almost lost all control and gave into the burning need to devour him. If I hadn't stopped myself...
I was touching him and he was touching me back. He wanted me. That's all I needed. I can stop this stupid game now.
Game over.