Slave (OC x Sherlock Holmes)

Chapter 3: Deduce Me

Sherlock grinned when I walked in the room. He told me to lay on the bed, and I did so a little too eagerly. He snorted. "You think I'm going to please you? Miss Miller, I'm about to turn your night into hell." His words sliced my expectations of a sweet night of plain sex in half. I swallowed.

"Now. There are a few rules you'll need to follow. First, you will address me as Mr. Holmes, not Sherlock. Second, you will follow all of my orders. And third, you will be quiet. Do you understand?" I nodded. "Good. Then let's begin."

I was shivering with excitement. "Lay on your back," he demanded. I did so, and he scooted down and pulled my underwear off with his teeth. I could feel myself lusting for him. He examined me, then asked, "What do you want me to do to you?" I moaned. "Deduce me!" He smiled and growled before starting his work.

First, he slipped off my bra so I was fully exposed. He took one breast with his hand and massaged it. I had to try very hard not to moan. He then started licking my clit lightly. I gasped. He stopped and ordered, "No noise." "Yes, Mr. Holmes," I said rolling my eyes back. He continued to lick, stroking my clit with his tongue. He then placed his whole mouth onto me, sucking and licking. His dirty sounds made my back arch. I bit my lip so hard, metallic-tasting blood squirted into my mouth. I couldn't help it. I was so horny, I needed to release. I grabbed a fistful of his curly hair and bucked myself faster. I reached my high, and screamed out, "I'm cumming! I'm cumming! Oh my gosh, yes! Oh, fuck! Sherlock!"

I died down, sinking back to reality. He slowly sat up, glaring at me. "Miss Miller, you just broke two rules. Now you will pay." I breathed deeply. "What do I have to do?" He smiled, and sat up on his knees. "You will pleasure me. If I do not climax in three minutes, you will never receive pleasure from me, again." I nodded. Well, I had my mission. I looked at his length, and loved it. I took him in my mouth and started giving him one hell of a blowjob. He soon started bucking his hips. He groaned. "Yes, yes, yes..." He was quiet, but he was grunting and moaning as I worked him. It wasn't too long before he came in my mouth. He was salty and sweet, and for my first time, I loved it.

He collapsed onto the bed, sweating. "You did excellent, Miss Miller. Now, you will be rewarded. Lay down." I did as I was told, and he softly lowered himself into me. Soon, he picked up his pace. The bed rocked, and we locked eyes. The moment was intense. I started screaming when I climaxed. "Fuck, yeah! Oh my fucking gosh! Yes! Yes! Mmm..."

He grunted and grabbed my legs, going deeper. I was so pleasured, that when he filled me, I gasped. We both lay panting for a bit, just enjoying each other's company. We tossed the towels and sheets we had used to one corner of the room, and I slipped on my bra and underwear.

Sherlock simply wrapped himself in a clean sheet. I grinned. "Can I sleep with you?" I asked. He looked at me oddly. "Didn't you just?" I giggled like a small girl. "I mean sleep. Like normal people." He glared at me. "Miss Miller, I do hope that there's no misunderstanding here. I don't love you. We're not in a relationship." I furrowed my brow. "Um, excuse me? I just lost my fucking virginity to you. We are in a relationship. Unless you're about to tell me this was some one-night-stand." He cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, but this was a mere experiment." I screamed, "What? Experiment! Sherlock Holmes, you are a fucking bastard, and I cannot believe you! I was your experiment?" He nodded. "Well, yes. Is that bad?" I glared, hot tears running down my face. "But...you...this is your first time?" He nodded, silent. "Oh." I was quiet. I wasn't really sure what to say. Sherlock Holmes had lost his virginity to me. Crazy.

Storming out of his room, I didn't try to stop the hot tears that were streaming. Everything was so unfair. Whatever. He was just my experiment, too. I didn't love him. Wait, what? Sherlock had been my first time. We weren't married, we weren't dating. We didn't even know each other. Did this make me a slut? A whore? Did this make me easy?

I locked my bedroom door and flopped onto my bed. Snuggling up with a pillow, I cried myself to sleep.

The next morning, Sherlock was missing. But I found John standing in the kitchen making bagels. When he saw me, he smiled. "Hey, Candace. How was Sherlock?" I stared at him. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He smirked. "Oh, please. You know perfectly well what I mean. It's not my fault you're so damn loud!" He chuckled, but a rosy heat tinted my cheeks. "Please, don't remind me. I made a huge mistake last night. I don't know why I even slept with him..."

When he saw how genuinely upset I was, he kissed my forehead. "Candace, how old are you?" "Seventeen," I sniffed. "Why?" John smiled at me encouragingly. "Because I was seventeen once. And I know it seems like it's the end of the world, but trust me. It'll get better." His words were kind, but one detail of last night was what was killing me. "John, we didn't use a condom!" I cried. He raised his eyebrows. "Well, then. Looks like you've got a bit of a problem, don't you?" I groaned, grabbed my coffee, and trudged upstairs, preparing myself for a day of sulking by myself.