Sadie:
âC-couldâŚâ John paused to lick the sweat off his upper lip; âCould youâŚ?â
Sherlock stopped his panting and looked up into Johnâs eyes, his pupilâs blown wide and dazed, cheeks flushed, and waited.
John
opened his mouth againâŚand still faltered. He couldnât do it. It was
too embarrassing. Which was quite a feat, considering he was on his
knees, thrusting into Sherlockâs arse while his lover was folded in half
like a lawn chair. Yet this was âtoo embarrassingâ. âSherlock, couldâŚunnh!â He grunted loudly as Sherlock clenched around his cock.
âGet on with it, John!â he breathed, rocking his arse impatiently, urging John to move again.
John
snorted; of course His Majesty would be even more demanding now. âYeah,
yeah, yeah,â he muttered, giving Sherlockâs hips a harsh squeeze before
slapping one soft, rounded buttock.
Sherlock arched his back and hissed, his hands twisting the sheets beneath him, and keened.
Johnâs lip curled into a leer; that had been a welcome reaction. He did the same to the other side and Sherlock writhed, his mouth hanging open, panting a gasping.
John
found his nerve. âYou like that? You like it when Daddy spanks you?â he
said, and when Sherlock stopped to gape up at him, goggle-eyed, John
smacked him again and thrust himself deep, deeper than he had been, and
listened to Sherlock cry out loud.
He sat still for a moment,
chest heaving, and let Sherlockâs hole adjust to the stretching.
Sherlock lay still, his breath coming in short, quick little pants while
his cocked bobbed against his stomach. He murmured something in between
gasps, something that John couldnât quite catch, and for a moment, John
was worried that he might have hurt him. He rubbed his hands along
Sherlockâs thighs, and leaned in; âWhat, love?â
Sherlock slowly turned his head and gazed up at John..
âAgainâŚDaddy.â