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Pent Up Anger	By : BurntToasties Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 4501 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock, any characters, or make money from this in any way. Just for giggles.

Chapter List
- 1-Pent Up Anger
- 2-Sherlock
- 1
- 2
A/N: Decided to add more, then sat for a few months on it. Seems to be the best I'll ever get it.
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Sherlock watched from the window as the doctor stopped down the street, confused as to why he would be so furious over a kettle. After about five minutes, he didn’t really notice since he had been composing since John’s outburst, there was a knock on the door downstairs.
   “Just come on up already,” he yelled from the sitting room, making notes on the sheet paper. He heard the heels clicking up the stairs, and nearly dropped his violin.
   “Now Sherlock, you couldn’t even open the door for me? I thought you still cared,” Irene tisked, crossing the room and running a hand down Sherlock’s coat. He felt his body tighten against her touch and the rush of endorphins flooding his system. He cleared his throat.
   “Miss Adler, what do I owe the pleasure? It must be brief, I’m composing an experiment- Conducting! Conducting an experiment,” he corrected, clearing his throat and turning to stalk into the kitchen, cursing the chemicals muddling his brain at the sight of her.
   “I was just minding my business down the road and saw a rather frustrated doctor Watson taking off from the flat. You two have a domestic?” She smiled. Irene never tired of seeing the genius sociopath flustered. He sighed, turning to face her and explain when she caught him in a kiss. Sherlock froze, unsure of why she would do such a thing, before realizing she had divested him of his jacket. He pulled back, crossing the kitchen without looking back.
   “John got upset that I was using his kettle for my experiment,” he said rather loud before turning. Irene stood in his kitchen in nothing more than a pair of high heels, her jacket now a pile on the floor with his.
   “What sort of experiment, my dear Sherlock?” she practically purred, slowly advancing like a lioness on the prowl.
   “Ah, it was about heat and drowning victims and whether, um” he faltered when she was within reach and running a perfectly painted nail down his chest. “Fing- ahem- Fingerprints are reliable identifications.” Irene locked his eyes with her own.
   “Sherlock, it must be so... lonely, in that head of yours. With all those thoughts whirring about without someone to share them with? Someone that truly understands?” she whispered, her hands roaming the span of his chest to his narrow hips. Sherlock hadn’t noticed she’d undone his trousers until her felt them slide to the ground, a soft thud from his belt buckle the only noise in the flat. He knew that his body would betray the cool exterior he tried to hard to keep. Sherlock was caught between distracting her from his obvious arousal or taking her to the bedroom when he realized she’d wrapped her hand around his cock. He groaned at the contact, a throb running through his body to the point of contact. Irene kissed Sherlock quickly, her tongue darting against his lips, seeking out his mouth and tasting him. In three steps Irene had Sherlock on the couch, and kissed down his neck as she deftly unbuttoned his dark shirt. She kissed the exposed skin of his chest, her breath light as she worked her way lower. Sherlock let his head fall back as she licked her lips and took his member into her mouth. The sudden wet heat of her mouth caused a shiver of pleasure to run down Sherlock’s spine, his hips bucking roughly at the sensation. She hummed around his cock, the vibrations echoing through his body. His hands found their way into her hair, massaging her scalp as her skilled mouth and tongue worked at his manhood. He grunted when he felt the tip of his cock pass the back of her throat, his balls tightening in response. Irene cupped his balls, kneading them gently before working a soft finger back to press on the bundle of nerves between his sex and his anus. Sherlock let a stream of curse words tumble from his mouth at the abrupt touch, his cock leaking drops of pre-cum already. Irene pulled back, licking the drops of fluid from the tip and sucking on the glans before removing her mouth completely.
“Why did you stop?” Sherlock could tell his response was lacking his usual genius, and his deduction was half a step behind when he felt Irene’s weight in his lap. She smiled before kissing him, their bodies pressed together on the couch. She ground her hips into his, feeling his cock slide against her folds, parting them and hitting her clit, but not entering her. Sherlock groaned, the deep baritone sound lighting up each nerve in her body.
   “Sherlock, the things you could do with that voice,” she whispered against his ear. Her breath was hot, sending a shiver down his exposed body directly to his cock, bouncing against her clitoris from the excitement. She kissed down his neck, her tongue tracing the line of his carotid artery to his collar bone.
“You could have every female in Britain undone in a matter of minutes just from reciting your grocery list,” Irene nipped lightly at his adam’s apple, rubbing her sex against his. Sherlock’s hands worked at her hips, pulling them close and trying to position her where he could seek the warmth of her channel.
“And you, Irene? If I was to tell you I needed butter and tea would it be your undoing?” His voice echoed in her ears, the vibrations against her neck causing her nipples to tighten. Irene whimpered as he bit her neck roughly, driving his hips upward and finally into her tightness. She yelped at the sudden intrusion before settling back and feeling his hard cock fill her. Irene clicked her tongue at him, locking his piercing blue eyes with hers.
   “Now Sherlock, what about patience? Can’t wait to fuck me already?” She crooned, rising up and drawing out the long stroke before pressing back down and taking him all in again. Sherlock growled, his voice tearing through her body as he grabbed at one of her perk breasts with one hand, the other at the small of her back and urging her movements on. He pushed his hips up to meet each of her movements, driving deep into her wet core, and took her rosy nipple into his mouth. Irene couldn’t stifle the moan that surprised her, his mouth wet and hot on her breast. He bit on the bud in his mouth, causing her to flinch and change the angle of her stroke. Sherlock moaned, using the deep tones of his voice to send shock waves of pleasure through Irene’s body from the reddened bud. He licked and sucked gently between groans of pleasure, feeling his cock throbbing in need of release so soon. Irene was growling and slamming down into him, her nails digging into his shoulder tight as she rode him.
   “Miss Adler, you wanton woman,” Sherlock growled, unable to deny his release any longer. He took her hips in his hands and pulled her down into each of his thrusts. Irene felt a feral scream building inside her as he fucked her hard and rough, her hands tight on his shoulders. She screamed his name as he pounded deep into her, burying her head in the crook of his neck as her orgasm tore through her body. Sherlock felt Irene’s muscles squeeze around him and the onslaught of her juices coursing down his length. He pounded into her, grunting with effort as each thrust released the stress he didn’t realize he was holding in. The stress of not having sex in so long, of the spat with John, not to mention his unrequited feelings for the soldier. Sherlock gave a final feral growl as he felt his orgasm tear through him. He held her tight as he filled her channel with his cum, timing each hard, deep thrust with another throb of release. Irene was a slick puddle of woman in his arms as he felt his mind clear as his orgasm left him. He felt their combined liquids running languidly down his softening member still buried inside her as they both caught their breath. Irene finally removed her nails from his shoulders and sat back, feeling Sherlock’s cock slip from her as she tried to stand. Irene chuckled as she gripped the silent man beneath her, causing him to look up in confusion.
   “I don’t believe anyone’s ever left me weak in the knees after sex, my dear Sherlock,” she explained, finally getting her feet beneath her and standing from the couch. Sherlock nodded, buttoning up his shirt and standing with her. He collected his briefs and pants, pulling them on and zipping them as he moved back to the kitchen. He gathered her long coat from the floor and took it back to the brunette beauty in his sitting room. He admired the curve of her hips as she fit her heels back on properly, dragging his eyes up to hers as she turned around.
   “Weak in the knees after me? Why Miss Adler, I hope you aren’t losing your touch,” he teased as he helped her into her coat. She turned, a playful glint to her glare as she cinched the belt around her waist.
   “I know that wasn’t about me, Sherlock. As much as I make you uncomfortable, and gods only know how much fun I have watching you squirm, everyone can see how you look at your dear doctor,” Irene whispered the last against the detective’s cheek, leaving a ghost of a kiss behind as she pulled away, watching his eyes for his reaction. While Sherlock’s demeanor and body language could hide his thoughts and emotions, his clear blue eyes reflected everything, if you knew what to look for. Sherlock tried distract from the shorter woman’s correct deductions, the smile on her face proved he didn’t do well enough. Irene caught the flash as his eyes seemed to go from the usual clear and watchful state to a deeper, foggy blue that only meant he went elsewhere in his mind. Sherlock turned, picking up the forgotten violin and began playing a low, melancholy tune. He could hear her approach behind him, felt her hand graze his shoulder for a moment.
   “I’ll go find your doctor, Sherlock. We’ll work out what’s between you two yet. No domestic goes unresolved, not when I’m involved,” She smiled as she walked towards the door. “In fact, they tend to learn a thing or two about each other when I am.” Irene heard the violin falter just slightly as she shut the door behind her.
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Pent Up Anger