I do not own anything of the Sherlock Universe!
Deskwork
Lady Smallwood had expected a great many things, multiple orgasms by way of Mycroft Holmes's body certainly was not one of them.
Making it up to someone was usually not Mycroft's style. He certainly apologized but that was the end of it. Lady Smallwood however, had more or less demanded that he do just that. So he had devised a strategy, done some research, held a careful ear to the ground and executed the plan. And said plan had led them here, in his office, on his desk.
Mycroft was perched on the edge of his chair, his head buried between the silky smooth thighs of Lady Alicia Smallwood, who in turn had one hand fisted in his auburn hair and the other gripping the edge of his desk above her head. Her harsh breathing and moans that were rising in pitch were the only sound heard in the room. Her legs were draped over his shoulders, her high heels digging into his shoulder blades. Mycroft Holmes knew what he was doing, she was sure, as she felt the first tremor of her impending climax being coaxed out of her by his skilled mouth. Who would have thought?
He could feel her legs shaking and her nails were digging into his scalp. Her breathing suddenly changed, her back went into an incredible arch and she called out to god in an almost scream. Mycroft had trouble keeping her hips in place but pleasured her all the way through her peak until she lay boneless stretched out on his one hundred years old desk. Her hand had slacked on his head and he came up to look at her.
To say she looked serene was a gross understatement. Her red lips were parted and her long lashes were lying on her cheeks, her face completely relaxed, and no sign of the hard lines that usually adorned her face. She looked younger than he had ever seen her. The open blouse and exposed nude bra showed off her creamy skin almost untouched by age. From the long time it took for her heart rate to return back to normal, the heaving of her chest and the way she sighed he deduced that she had not had intimate relations for quite a long time. No wonder she had-
"Could you please stop thinking and analyzing me, it disrupts my afterglow." He stopped dead in his thought process.
"Apologies."
She opened her eyes and looked at him. Light blue met stormy grey.
"I must admit that I am surprised, Mycroft. I didn't think you had it in you." She slowly leaned up on her elbows and looked down at him. The smile on her lips told him that she had indeed been surprised but that she had enjoyed herself immensely. His hands on her skirt-clad hips tightened their grip. He had not moved from his position but she had started to move her legs.
Lady Smallwood was contemplating how to best make an exit now but stopped when she saw the dark look he shot her from under his eyelashes.
"Where do you think you are going?" His voice had dropped considerably and the look of surprise on Lady Smallwood's face was a clear indication that it was working for her.
Before she knew what was going on, he had dropped her legs to the floor, yanked her off the desk, turned her around and pushed her hands onto the polished surface. Effectively bending her over the wooden surface, he leaned over her until his mouth was pressed to her right ear. He could feel her inhale sharply and her hands were shaking under his.
"We are not done, my lady." He hissed and she shivered so hard, Mycroft had a tough time containing the smile on his face. His hands pressed down on hers where they were pressed to the desk. "Keep. Them. There." The huff from each word hit the sensitive skin below her ear and another shudder went through her.
Mycroft straightened up and took hold of her skirt that had fallen over her bottom and hoisted it back up, exposing her flawless skin.
The sound of his zipper could be heard echoing in the room, then he was intimately pressed against her. He leaned back towards her, snaking a hand around her upper body and settling it lightly around her arched throat. He felt her swallow and suck in a harsh breath as he pressed a little harder without giving her what she needed. He could tell she was eager by the little shifts her hips were doing against him.
"Tell me." He whispered, pressing against her entrance and she stopped breathing.
He counted the seconds before she choked out "Please."
He gave her what she asked for. He bottomed out and stopped himself from groaning. She was surprisingly tight and he had to change his plan if he wanted to last. He didn't give her long to adjust to him and she mewled as he withdrew.
Lady Smallwood had long since abandoned all restraint of her vocal appreciation for his skills and let out loud moans as he repeatedly pushed into her, gaining speed. She knew she wasn't going to last long with this angle. Her nails dug into the wood beneath her and his hand was running along the delicate skin under her jaw. How he had known to deny her to touch him she did not know but the frustration of having to keep still was only adding to her arousal.
He repeatedly thrust slow and deep, hitting just the right spot to make her cry out and start her orgasm. Her sweaty palms were sliding on the desk and she fell forward. The new angle added to the impending climax and all she could do was beg for him to let her touch him, to connect in some small way. He growled into her hair and linked his right hand with hers. Her grip was like a vice. Not long now.
Her orgasm began, her body went rigid and her breath hitched in her throat. Mycroft decided to not overstimulate her and slowed his punishing thrusts as she tightened around him with uncommon strength. He felt one of her legs shake and a long high pitched moan left her lips before she went limp under him.
Little aftershocks went through her as he slowly slid in and out of her. To say that Mycroft Holmes was pleased with his work was ridiculous. Her obvious pleasure fueled his ego and made him swell with pride deep inside her.
He knew she was probably exhausted but the grip on his hand was still strong. He straightened up, using his now unoccupied hand to run it down the long elegant slope of her back, covered by her thin white blouse. He heard her sigh and took that as permission to move again.
His own orgasm was approaching quickly as he built up the rhythm again. He hadn't even realized he had closed his eyes until her nails sunk into his exposed hip and they flew open to find her once again panting open-mouthed, looking at him over her left shoulder.
"Mycroft." It wasn't particularly his name but the way she gasped it that ultimately pushed him over the edge and deep into her. He shuddered and panted his release and collapsed forward, catching himself on his forearms to save her from being crushed. He took one deep breath, two and felt her shuddering as well, whimpering. Another peak for her as well. He lowered his forehead between her shoulder blades, closed his eyes and simply shared her warmth.
It took them quite some time to regain their wits. Mycroft was paying attention to her breathing pattern when she started to talk.
"I wish I'd known, I would have gotten myself arrested sooner." Her tone was dry with just a hint of mirth. A moment of silence followed, then she huffed out a laugh. Mycroft was unable to stop the smile from forming on his lips.
They extricated themselves from each other and slowly dressed. Mycroft looked down to the floor but there wasn't any piece of clothing there and he remembered that she hadn't worn any underwear. He watched her now covered bottom as she bet down to pick up the shoe she had lost during their encounter. Had she known he would arrange for them to meet today or did she never wear any underwear? That question would have to be researched. He stepped around his desk and while pulling his coat on asked her: "So, you're off now. I won't see you for a week?"
She was standing in front of his full length mirror, shrugging on her coat as well.
"Just spending it at home. Unless she calls." The aversion evident in her voice.
"The PM." Mycroft clarified.
Lady Smallwood pulled out a small card and held it up for Mycroft.
"Here."
He took it and found it to be her business card.
"What's this?" He read the information.
"My number."
"I already have your number."
"My private number." She specified.
"Why would I need that?" Mycroft showed signs of confusion.
Lady Smallwood shrugged. "I don't know. Perhaps you'd like a drink sometime."
"Of what?" Mycroft was unsure how to respond to her innuendo.
"Up to you. Call me." She gave the hint of a sardonic smile before strutting out of his office with her head held high. She left behind a chuckling Mycroft who put her card down on his calendar. But after a full minute of contemplating, walking to his door, coming back and walking to his door again, he finally picked up the card and tugged it into the pocket of his waistcoat.
'Maybe…' he thought.