A/N: Watch out! There's GRAPHIC sex and stuff! Okay, I lied about the stuff. Sorry if it's toooo graphic D: Also: I may have been born speaking English, but some days it's like I don't even know who I am anymore :o "I'm from the South and we make up words for whatever we want."

A restless sleep gave way to restless dreams. Irene Adler, starring exclusively in each one. She danced around his precious thoughts, teasing, mocking him. Frustrated, he attempted to catch her but, like smoke, she was ever so elusive. Sherlock shivered as the dream turned colder. He seemed lost in a white mist that iced his skin, his search leading him towards a sinister looking darkness. A hand on his shoulder woke him. He gasped awake to stare into the eyes of the woman who seemed to always evade him, leaning over him.

"Hello, love." She said gently as she brushed his curls off his forehead. "It seems I mistakenly left you a little cold. But it doesn't matter. I know just how to heat things up."

Taken aback, Sherlock struggled to sit up, but found he couldn't. His cuffs allowed little wiggle room and his wrists already burned from his attempted escape. She tsked at him, gesturing to his wrists. "Someone couldn't wait." She bat her eyelashes back to look at Sherlock. He now noticed that she was wearing a flowing beige robe that opened to display her nude curves. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her mobile phone and trademark riding crop. He cringed a little inside remembering the shock of her unexpected drug dose. His hazy mind recalled her standing over him, taunting him while brushing his cheeks with the damn thing.

"Oh, don't worry," she said noticing his change in focus. "I shouldn't need that." With that, Irene began to kiss Sherlock's collar bone making a trail from his neck to his ear. She breathed heavily, encircling his ear with her lips. "If I'm going to be forced to do this, I might as well make it enjoyable." Before Sherlock could ponder what she meant he immediately felt a hand take hold of his cock. He gasped and tried to shrink from the contact.

"No, I-" Irene placed a finger over his lips. "Shhh. Don't ruin it," she said as she meaningfully squeezed. Sherlock suppressed a moan, trying to get his mind off the fact that he was being touched by someone other than himself. And even then, the thought to masturbate hadn't really appealed to him. The sensation of her skin on his flesh was both delightful and unbearable. The sensitive nerves reacted to her careful stroking causing him to grow hard.

She pulled herself completely onto the bed and straddled the naked man. She shrugged off her robe gazing lazily at Sherlock. He found he couldn't look away from her breasts as her figure was so prettily presented before him. Irene smirked and leaned forward on top of him, her face inches from his own. She snatched up his lips in a halfhearted kiss before jokingly adding, "Do please be gentle with me, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock nearly growled at her, but he was getting lost in the sensation of her touch. How easily he slid into her, causing an explosive tingling feeling. This felt good, despite it being against his very nature. His senses were overloaded with new experiences. Her soft sighs as she began to rock against him, drummed in his ears. Her hair freely flowed over her slender shoulders. Her hands glided down his sides, nearly tickling his sensitive sides.

His cock was alight from the blissful tightness and the smooth rocking sensation that was Irene Adler. He saw her at this moment as the woman she was.

The excitement began to climb toward a peak and Sherlock couldn't help but let a small moan escape. He was starting to go mad from the burden on his senses. His lower half seemed to have a mind of its own as it came up to meet with Irene's body. His breath became laboured and sweat dabbled at his forehead. Excruciatingly arousing, his mind focused on one thing, reaching that peak. Whenever he got close, Irene seemed to have a mind of her own, slowing down to a gut wrenching-ly slow pace. God, if he could just get her to pick up once more, he'd be done with this but, she wanted him to work for that ultimate pleasure. He lost himself for what seemed like hours, playing this game with Irene that had no clear winner.

As he came close once more, instead of slowing, she matched to his involuntary thrusts. "I-I'm.." he stuttered. Irene simply nodded her head as noticeably as possible. He came inside her in a blissful moment that was devoid of thought or boredom. He finally understood what good couples were for and why John always had women around.

Irene slowly climbed off of him, reaching out once more to touch his face, her face unreadable. She retrieved a towel she had placed on the floor when she came in and used it to clean what mess there was. She dropped the towel to the right of the bedside table and scooped up a blanket that had been sitting on the floor as well. She used it to cover his nude body before saying in a neutral voice, "I'll have Kate fix you something to eat. I'll be back later." Sherlock thought he glimpsed a glint of sadness in her eye before she pulled away from him. Speechless, himself, he couldn't think of anything to say.

She picked up her robe, placing it around her shoulders and wrapping it tightly to her waist. She didn't say anything else as she picked up her phone and, while walking, dialed a number. She opened the door and stepped through, slowly closing the door behind her.

Sherlock caught a soft Irish lit that answered on the first ring, "Is it finished?"

"Yes." she said coldly before clicking the door and lock into place.

End! Debated whether Sherlock would like it or not. I like this version. Let me know if you think the sex was super awkward/unbelievable or anything else for that matter. :3