Priceless Treasure

While Sherlock groaned, Corelli pulled out slowly, relishing the tight heat. Seeing that their boss had his toy under control, the three bodyguards stepped away from their positions and filed out. One of them muttered, "Call us when you're done, Signor. We'll be in the study."

"Help yourself to whatever you want in the bar," he replied hoarsely before plunging back into the tight body beneath him. Sherlock grunted at the none-too-gentle impact. Corelli assumed a driving rhythm with his hips, fucking the detective into the squeaking mattress. "God, you're so tight. Magnificent. Maybe I'll keep you instead of sending you home."

When the older man moved his hips in a circular motion, grazing Sherlock's prostate with each downward thrust, Sherlock bit his full lip until he tasted blood. It felt so damned good- the earlier burning pain had subsided first to a dull ache and then a heady feeling of fullness- and that upset him more.

He had lost his virginity to a kidnapper, someone who from the sounds of things had paid for him like he was an easily attained rent boy. His swelling cock, which was rubbing tortuously against the blankets, was a party in his complete betrayal.

Corelli paused to pull himself up and grasp Sherlock's bony hips. "Up on your knees, pet! It'll make you feel even better."

"Fuck you!"

"Interesting choice of words, young man." The ambassador reached under Sherlock's body, grasped his cock, and began tugging on it with a lube-slick hand. "You love my cock buried deep in your arse, don't you? You never thought it would feel so good, did you?"

Sherlock felt himself deteriorating. He wanted rescue. He wanted John. God help him, he even wanted Mycroft now. A choked sob broke through his tightly pressed lips.

"Well just you wait, Sherlock." Corelli managed to sound suave and controlled even when his hips were snapping a mile a minute and sweat sprayed from his brow. "I'm going to come in your arse, and then make you come all over my hand. And this is just the beginning- you're mine now. Mine. I'm going to fuck you every morning- seal my cum inside you with a plug afterward, so I'm in you even when I'm not- and do it all again when I return-"

The man was talking himself into a violent orgasm, and Sherlock let him do it without really listening. While he thrust into his captor's fist, he silently pleaded for rescue….

CRACK!

Sherlock screamed at the noise. When he smelled gunpowder and felt blood spray across his back like warm rain just before a warm, heavy weight collapsed onto him, he shrieked until the darkness claimed him.