This Is Real

Chapter Twenty Five

Mary had taken Eloise for the day, offering to look after the youngest Holmes so Evelyn could continue working on her research write up for her paper. Eve loved her children, but she'd been beginning to regret agreeing to contribute towards the paper due to falling so behind, there was always too much going on in her home.

She was finally almost caught up, and was feeling hopeful that she might even get it finished before it was nursery pick up time, until she heard the sound of the bedroom door opening. She realised in that moment she should have perhaps set herself up in the study, but from the look in her husband's eyes, the environment was going to make no difference to his plans.

"Sherlock? Are you alright?"

He said nothing as he kicked his shoes off and let his coat fall to the floor in a heap. "Move your laptop."

She glanced between him and the item in question, something stirring in her lower belly at his tone. "But I'm–" he crawled onto the bed while simultaneously dropping his suit jacket away, and her throat suddenly felt like it was closing. "Oh."

"Yes. Oh," he moved over her, closing the lid and taking the laptop, pushing it out of the way and onto the bedside table. "I'm going to kiss you now."

"Okay." She squeaked.

And by god did he kiss her. His mouth was insistent, his hands clawing at her tee shirt, slipping a hand under the hem to cling onto her skin. He wasn't wasting a second, his free hand pushing its way past the front of her shorts and underwear at the same time, pressing his weight into the movement.

His finger slipped across her folds, urging on her arousal. Evelyn gasped into his mouth, her hips lifting against the sensation, her hand gripping his shoulder as he smirked down at her.

"Spread your legs," he ordered. She complied quickly. Sherlock straddled her thigh to keep his access, pecking her lips briefly. "Good girl," she shuddered, her eyes flying to lock on his. He grinned. "Liked that?"

All Eve could manage was to nod mutely.

"You're so wet, Evie. You're always so ready for me," he pushed a finger through her entrance, changing the angle of his wrist to accommodate the restriction of her clothing. "Aren't you?"

"Yes," she whispered, her grip on his arm tightening. "Now. I want you now."

Sherlock chuckled, adding a second finger, watching her face as her head tipped back and mouth fell open in a silent moan. "Not yet."

He kissed her, pumping his hand with more vigour. When his palm pressed down against her bundle of nerves she gasped, mouth falling away from his, staring up at him. He bit into her bottom lip as they shared breath, chests heaving together. Then he curled his fingers and she trembled, eyes widening, shouting something unintelligible.

Sherlock removed his hand and licked his fingers clean while holding eye contact, revelling in the whimper he was given in response. He pulled his shirt off over his head, making haste with his trousers and boxer briefs, barely allowing himself to stand to kick them off. Then he hovered above her, sucking at her throat, using his teeth, while shoving at her tee shirt. Evelyn took the hint and pulled it up and off, throwing it somewhere across the room.

He sat back on his knees, grinning wolfishly before yanking at her lower clothes so hard she slid down the pillows. Eve yelped, giggling, reaching for him.

As he moved over her he nudged his erection at her entrance, making her keen at him. "I'm going to make you come at least three times before I finish."

"Oh god."

"Oh yes," he slipped himself inside her, sighing blissfully at the familiar welcome heat, before moving his hips at a leisurely pace. "I want you to be utterly exhausted from my attentions."