Sherlock Imagines

Kinktober Day 2; DDLG + Jim Moriarty

So, here's how I think I should do things.
Every other day is Sherlock, that's when kinks switch. After every Sherlock day, the kink will stay the same, but a character I think matches the kink will be the subject matter. Sound good? If not, I'll fix it after today's.
Also; I did technically post this yesterday, I don't know why it didn't properly post. Apologies!
Enjoy porn with VERY little plot. It's just the slightest smidge of plot, I promise.

Sometimes you'd get messages from your mother asking when you'd bring your 'boyfriend' home. You were too afraid of disappointing her to tell her the truth.
And really, the truth was pretty bad.
You'd been working under James for three and a half years when this had all started, but had never guessed it would turn into something like this.
It stated with sex, obviously, but instead of turning to romance, it—well...
"Say the word, and maybe I'll go easy on you, baby cakes." His voice winded up with a few easy breaths, coming out like a music-box's song. It was a lie, you didn't even have to look at his pleased grin to know that. You didn't even have to stop and consider, because you knew you'd like the truth better than the lie, but oh—this just made the game that much more interesting.
"Pl-please, Daddy? I promise I'll be good for you!" You put on your biggest doll eyes, looking up at him through your lashes as innocently as possible. Considering you were unclad and spread out like a whore, it was difficult to get him to buy.
"Tsk...Tsk...Tsk..." His tongue dipped out from between his lips, hands shifting his grip on your thighs. His grip was bruising, nails digging into your flesh as he leaned down and took the stretch of skin along your jaw into his lips.
"Such a pretty little liar, aren't you? You've already been bad, Sweetheart—messing around with a bunch of nothings behind my back, acting like a little slut—I don't appreciate that, now do I?" You blushed at the exaggeration, tentatively surprised he was even bringing it up. It had just been one date, after all, and not even a good one. Yes, it had ended up in the bedroom, but it hadn't been all that satisfactory.
"No...I'm sorry, Dadd—" The top button on his dress shirt hung open as he looked over you, sleeves cuffed higher to avoid ruining the expensive garment. His jacket and tie had been long discarded in the hustle to get down to what you both clearly needed. His hair hung disheveled and messy in a way you were glad he didn't know, because you didn't doubt he'd leave you to wait as he went to fix it. 
"Who do you belong to?" His thumbs pressed harshly into your thighs, a small whimper leaving your lips in response.
"Y-You—I'm yours, all yours-!" He was acting a lot more serious than usual in a way that would typically concern you, hadn't you been so amused. He kissed you, nipping and biting and sucking at your lips, as one hand shifted up your leg, stopping at your opening.
"Good." He growled, pressing two fingers along your entrance, both quickly slid inside you, eliciting a startled gasp with a desperate moan coming in quick succession.
"F—Daddy—be gentle—!" You pleaded, Despite the overall satisfaction of it. Nothing would come of it, nothing ever did. He'd push you to the edge, just to pull away at the very last moment. Again and again, until he couldn't resist any longer and gave in.
"And why should I when my naughty little girl is going out with disgusting insects and letting them play with what's mine?" His hand wrapped around your throat, an empty threat (for the most part), but still very dangerous. He could be so changeable at times...
"But-!"
"I didn't give you permission to speak, Darling." His voice came out in a low hiss, while his finger ticked upwards. He sat still for the longest time, making you desperate for any type of friction, for movement.
"P-Please—I'm sorry..." You begged, squirming in the struggle to prevent yourself to move; prevent yourself  from just fucking yourself on his fingers. You doubted he'd allow that for long, but it would be amusing for him to watch.
"Very sorry—I'll do anything, please!" You barely understood what you were saying. His response, less. It was all muddled as his thumb pressed down on the little button of nerves and his fingers rose up to stroke the one spot that made your knees go weak. Your hips bucked up, keening cries breaking through your throat, and stars blinding your vision.
"See, I  you need to be punished," He explained, voice deceptively soft, "but you're too used to the way I normally go about doing such...you've come to enjoy having to wait for your treat." His fingers twitched nimbly up again, a smirk rising to his lips.
"So, why not try the other way around?" Without warning, he pushed a third finger into you, purposefully stretching you. Your head slammed back into the pillows, and he took the opportunity to mark up your neck with bruises and bite marks.
"No more edging," Thank Christ, "just overstimulation! How does that sound?" He purred, eyes dark as panic swept over your features.
"N-No, pl-please—I promise I'll be good! I-I'll never let someone else play with what's yours again, I swear!" For once, your panic was real. You never actually feared what happened when James closed the door for 'playtime'—not when he had whips, nor chains, nor any other kind of so-called torture. By the end, you'd be begging for more. But this, this was terrifying.
"Hush, now, you're not supposed to enjoy your punishments. Are you going to be able to keep your pretty little mouth shut, or am I going to have to shut it myself?" Your lips clamped Shut, knowing he was serious. His fingers began pumping and playing with you in a way that was absolutely magical, and it wasn't but a few minutes later that you came with a muffled moan, the heel of your hand forced into your mouth to quiet yourself.
And of course, he didn't stop. Just as you expected, it hurt like all hell, but in its own twisted way, it was fucking phenomenal. Ten minutes passed before another wave of pleasure shot over you, but it's corners were frayed with a distinct pain. The amount of time before he sent you over shortened the more times it happened, body giving into his will.
"D-Daddy, I-I want you—please!" You keened as he pushed all the right buttons to send you over the edge, swimming in a mixture of pain and pleasure so muddled you could no longer tell the difference.
"Will you behave if I give you what you want?" His voice slid up your neck, leaving tantalized goosebumps in its wake. You nodded fervently, desperate for more just as much as you were desperate for this to end. He hummed, and the familiar sound of his belt coming off allowed a small sound of relief to echo through the room.

You could still feel it the next morning. You could feel everything that happened the night before as if it happened only minutes ago, and as you stared at your darkly patterned neck, you wondered what came over him to suddenly mark you like this.
You felt his hands at your waist before you even saw him, pulling you closer to him as his face dove to kiss at the wounds he'd left, as well as add new ones.
"Maybe now you'll think twice before flirting with my men, babygirl." He teased, lashes fluttering as his eyes opened. Was he joking? If he wasn't, he'd wish he was, soon enough.
"You did all that, because you were fucking jealous?!"