Chapter 34 Release
A/N: By popular demand, here's some dirty Mystrade...thanks for reading. Beware it's rough.
Chapter 34: Release
Greg would have never anticipated the bump in the road. After the day he had his reflexes weren't exactly top notch either. So he found himself face down in a very posh man's expensively tailored lap. For a moment it was as if time stood still, completely stopping, none of the slow motion rubbish one sees in the movies. No this, this was entirely heart stopping.
And then just like that time snapped back into focus, no sounds penetrated this little cocoon of lust and excitement. No other scents but of the two Alphas, and their pheromones were fighting for dominance in the small space.
The gray haired Alpha took a deep breath, one heady with the scent of another Alpha. Not one giving off dominance, but pure arousal. Interest? How had he never noticed? Mycroft was attracted to him, and the sly bastard never gave anything away.
Was exhaustion pulling down that cold dismissive utterly fortified facade? Whatever it was that took control, Lestrade was just as powerless to fight it, especially after the stress he had been forced to endure.
He wanted more, his nose nuzzled a very interested hardness beneath the now tight trouser pants. Eyes of chocolate brown raised, mouth slightly open, tasting the scented air, intoxicating and delicious.
Grayish blue eyes widened, a gasp and as if on their own his hips rotated up. That was the moment of truth, Greg knew he should stop this. He should roll down a window, put some space and air between them. But Mycroft was beautiful, his ginger hair slightly disheveled, his tie just a centimeter less than straight.
He was wanton perfection, cheeks slightly flushed and from the sudden thickening of the air around the two . Oh yes the British Government was very much interested.
What would it take to taste those lips, trace a wet tongue over the very arches and creases of pouty flawlessness. What would the younger Alpha do if Greg bit down meaningfully on the bottom lip, and sucked.
Lestrade didn't have a chance to think any further into such actions, Mycroft ever the man of opportunity and action pulled the older Alpha down hard against him. Lips hungry and eager pulled and devoured, a tongue tasting suspiciously like scotch and dark chocolate darted out to do battle with his own.
Greg hadn't enjoyed another Alpha since his divorce, he felt a little out of practice, his body clumsy at first. His very being was demanding to be in control of the situation.
It seemed the young Mycroft Holmes had the same inclination, he growled and grunted his eyes dilated with lust. The two were making a mess of clothes, uncaring if they had an audience, all that mattered was now and the urge to dominate.
The gray haired Alpha may be out of practice but he did have more experience with these types of things, and he would have the younger pup begging.
Mycroft was a man of logic and practiced actions, he had been groomed at a very young age to never give away one's emotions. In fact removing emotion and sentiment from any dealings had just been so much easier.
When it came to his more carnal urges he found that it was best to handle himself in much the same way he handled politics and work. With cool logic and easy manipulation.
He had lusted after the older man often enough, watching hours of CCTV footage, the way Greg moved when encountering a suspect. His easy smile when dealing with colleagues and the somewhat confusing way in which Gregory conducted himself with Sherlock. The man had a relaxed easy almost paternal way when he handled the wayward consulting detective.
One would almost think Gregory cared for the infuriating young Alpha. Mycroft had learned as a child that one could never trust emotions. His own mother used her tears and distressed pheromones to control his actions. This was how most Omegas worked, even Grandmere had her way to gain the upper hand.
Alphas were different they were driven by their own needs and wants, selfishly so in most cases. His own father had used his fists to get his point across, and Mycroft understood what his father failed to learn. The tall lean Alpha knew it took less effort to use words and simple threats to control situations then using brute force.
The men he usually had relations with knew what to expect and that was nothing. He took what he wanted aggressively in some instances and then left once he felt sated.
The Omega experience never interested him and he found it all so messy, having undergone one or two heats. It was satisfactory but lacked in challenge. An Omega was made to roll over, well most did just that. His brother seemingly found the only Omega in all of London who did just the opposite.
John was interesting at most but Mycroft didn't feel anything else but curiosity for the young Omega.
In the case of Gregory Lestrade the man had always been some what of an enigma. He treated Sherlock like a son, at first Mycroft thought it was to ensure the young Alpha kept helping with the impossible cases. However that wasn't it, Mycroft had seen Gregory cut Sherlock off completely at the risk of losing his own job, all to prove a point.
Lestrade genuinely did not wish to see Sherlock injured, or strung out. Why? Why did he care? And why did Mycroft care to know the answer to such an unimportant question? In no way was he jealous of his little brother. He simply found it interesting to be the focus of such a man's concern and attention. Nothing more.
The older Alpha met Mycroft's eyes with open hunger, how could the elder Holmes ignore such a challenge. His exhaustion from the last weeks spent with less than intelligent politicians, all begging for his advice and council. Only to turn around and do the exact opposite of what he suggested, bloody Christ the NOISE! The PEOPLE! It was straining on his patience, and infuriating.
He finally returned home after convincing the higher authorities, and despite what Sherlock thought, Mycroft did indeed have people to answer to. These select few had deliberated on the American situation and finally gave him the nod to return from exile. Mycroft was sure it had been Grandmere's approval that the Authorities had waited on.
Yes, the older woman may seem fragile and oh so submissive but Mycroft knew better. The woman had many favors owed to her, favors by powerful families. His own grandfather was a master at chess, but it seems that it had always been Grandmere directing his moves. Sure his Grandfather had been a genius in his own right, but his Grandmere was a bit more calculating and clever.
The woman had arranged for her own son's death, of that there was never a doubt. Proving she could be just as logical and unfeeling when it came to protecting the Holmes name.
Now, Mycroft would push this all behind him, he had a form of release and it was gripping his thighs for balance, pupils dilated and mouth slightly agape. The lust in Gregory's eyes, in his scent it was all too much. Mycroft growled pulling the man against him thier mouths finally meeting.
He tasted of cheap coffee and unfiltered cigarettes, it was delectable. Strong arms were maneuvering him and pulling him under. How did the man manage to get the upper hand? No, no that would not do at all. Mycroft was always on top, whether it be in the boardroom or in the bedroom.
There was a snarl, and the two were kissing and biting, fighting for the other to be straddled, and somehow it was Gregory between Mycroft's legs, moving his lips over the exposed and very hard cock.
"You want my mouth here?" That grainy voice whispered just inches above the precum slicked tip. When Mycroft tried to roll his hips in response, needing those plumped lips to just take him until he chocked with spilled seed, the gray haired Alpha's strong hands held his hips in place. It was painful and even more of a turn on.
"Answer me." The Alpha demanded, his tongue moved with cruel unhurried precision over the aching tip. Mycroft caught his breath, hands shooting out to force that mouth over him. Gripping the man's silver mane. The DI's strong hands anticipated such a move, quickly gripping the wrists and forcing them down almost painfully at Mycroft's side. He shifted uncomfortably against the leather seat.
"No, now that wasn't very polite. I think a little punishment is appropriate in this instance."
Mycroft's mouth went dry and Lestrade took this neglected member in his mouth but just the tip, moving his lips no further than the mushroomed head.
Mycroft arched upwards needing more, wanting to be enveloped but the Alpha held him still. He pulled back with a pop, and a deep growl he nipped at Mycroft's exposed stomach.
The British Government briefly noted he was naked from the waist up, his trousers were tight against his thighs half down, restricting his movements effectively.
Distracted by the mouth teasing him he was pushed onto his stomach, thankfully the black sedan with the tinted windows allowed for such maneuvering but little else to counter against the onslaught of his senses
Before he could object his own head was forced down into the seat, and his hips were pulled up. His growl was muffled by the seat and hips pulled up slamming hard against a solid well toned belly.
There wasn't any sweet words, or any of the annoying small talk, instead the man behind him spit into his hand slicking his own hard flesh before pulling the hips back and hard.
Mycroft couldn't hold back the sudden cry of shock, the man behind him kept him in place, holding his hips.
"You aren't in control Mycroft, I am. Do you feel me, stretching you. God you're so tight. I wonder if anyone has had you like this."
Mycroft grunted the streatch and burn welcomed, the young Alpha wanted movement wanted friction.
"So eager." Gregory grunted, holding himself in palce, keeping the younger man's hips firmly in place. "So tell me what you want. And maybe I'll give it to you."
"Fuck me. Hard."
"Say the magic words." Greg hissed moving just enough to catch that tiny little bud that could make a man see stars.
"Pleeaaaase!" Mycroft groaned and that's all it took. The older man was moving without a care to the marks he would leave behind, his mouth biting and nipping at the Alpha under him just at the base of his neck.
Harder, he pulled back and shoved himself in each stroke a sure aim to the prostate, Mycroft couldn't think he barely remembered to breathe, the coil in his belly started to tighten. He'd never come without being touched or properly but he was on the brink and from the sound of the grunting behind him he wasn't the only one.
The sensation was almost too much and the air left him with a shout echoed only by the man behind him.
It was their breathing that signified a return to reality, "Oh shit!" Greg pulled his softening cock from Mycroft's sore hole. "Mycroft, I-"
The younger Alpha winced moving himself into a sitting position, very much aware of the sticky mess left on the seat and drying to his soft belly.
He panted shaky hands hit the automatic window, the small space needed to be aired out. His head was foggy and thoughts scattered.
"I think this is a conversation we can continue at my home. In my bedroom." The younger Alpha panted, licking his swollen lips. He winced briefly pulling his trousers up, leaving the sticky load to slowly leak from his abused hole. "I think a shower is in order. "
Lestrade had unsteadily zipped his own trousers up, locating the torn shirt and wrinkled jacket of Mycroft's. He winced, "Don't know what got into me."
"I'm sure we can find something to get into you." Mycroft hit the intercom button.
"Sir?" Agent A kept her voice even and interested. Good girl.
"Please redirect the driver to my home."
"Yes, sir." She didn't say goodbye only shut off the intercom, straight to the point and that's what Mycroft liked about his assistant.
"You understand Greg this is simply release and will go no further than that."
Lestrade leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes, "Definitely okay with me. No strings. Understood."
It was just release. Mycroft told himself, nothing more