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Sherlock and Jonnie both gasped and jerked as another of Sherlock’s knots popped into her.
“Four,” Sherlock groaned, draping for a moment over Jonnie’s back till she could pull herself back together. Four of her knots swollen inside Jonnie now, stretching her wide and locking her firmly in place for Sherlock's tentacles to fuck her deep and thorough at whatever pace Sherlock fancied.
Stuffed too full to stay still and knotted too tight to move, Jonnie wriggled and keened at her immobility. Another delicious-smelling gush of fluid flowed out of her and down over Sherlock’s thighs, Jonnie’s body yielding to Sherlock and signaling its desire for more. Sherlock growled with possessive satisfaction. At this stage, she held total control over the pace and sensations of their mating, and it drove Jonnie mad. She was such a demanding little omega when she went into heat, needy and insistent and never truly happy till Sherlock stripped away all her self-restraint and turned her into a submissive wreck, pushing her till Jonnie begged, filling and stretching her beyond what she thought she could take.
Right now, she was just about perfect. Astride Sherlock's lap, her curvaceous, sweat-sheened arse tucked into the cradle of Sherlock's hips, she writhed and mewled helplessly in response to the six appendages, each thick as a big man's finger, that squirmed and pistoned inside her. Sherlock caught Jonnie in her arms to keep her from tipping herself off, grazing a thumb over the nipple of the breast she cupped in one hand, and toying with her clit with the ring finger of the other.
Jonnie thrashed in her arms and panted, "Can’t," even while she tried desperately to rock on Sherlock's cocks for deeper penetration.
Sherlock laughed softly. Useless; the knots held them fast so that Jonnie couldn’t stop the shafts from thrusting and stimulating her as they liked. "Mine,” Sherlock purred, rolling Jonnie’s sensitive nipple between her fingers. “I can fill you however I like and you can’t get away." Not that Jonnie had ever wanted to, but the knowledge that Sherlock could do whatever she pleased and Jonnie couldn't stop it made heat roll pleasantly through her gut.
The sensitive tips of her tendrils alternately fucked and explored Jonnie's slick-hot channel. Sherlock shivered at the velvety sensation of her soft tips wandering over the plush arousal-swollen tissues and cartilaginous ridges of her interior walls. When her tips stroked softly, Jonnie let out a sighing moan and a luscious little wriggle. When they stroked harder, she cried out and arched as pleasure wracked her. Sherlock felt one nudge and trace gently around the shape of Jonnie’s cervix, till it had Jonnie undulating pleadingly in her lap.
"Your body feels so good," Sherlock murmured, with a light nip to Jonnie’s neck. "Hot and silken, and so responsive for me, Jonnie. Mmm, the way your vagina flutters around my cocks. Can you feel it? So greedy, squeezing me every time you shiver for me?" Jonnie tipped her head back against Sherlock’s shoulder and moaned as Sherlock's voice triggered a little cascade of ripples in her.
Her throaty moans sharpened with urgency as Sherlock's cocks kept twisting and thrusting inside her, complex rhythms of deep, lengthy penetration calculated to wipe Jonnie's mind of conscious thought and wring ever more lovely moans and whimpers from her.
Her cries peaked as her body stiffened and shook with her climax, locked beyond her ability to control. Her body clamped with gorgeous, almost painful ferocity on Sherlock’s penile knots.
It felt so spectacular that Sherlock couldn't stay still. While Jonnie still gyrated and struggled against the ecstasy storming through her, Sherlock arched and pushed up into her, enhancing the hard full sensation of her knots, keeping Jonnie’s orgasm going for as long as possible.
And Jonnie's noises. Her voice cracked in whimpers each time her body bore down on Sherlock's knots, high-pitched little cries of rapture that sounded like they were being wrung out of her. Overstimulated, after the number of orgasms Sherlock had given her already. Overwhelmed, every flicker of pleasure exploding into an unbearable, consuming conflagration. Hot pleasure ripped through her at what she was doing to Jonnie, how completely she was wrecking Jonnie right now, and sent her crashing into her own orgasm.
Jonnie sobbed and fell back against Sherlock at the swelling of yet another knot inside her. So full and tight now. Sherlock moaned into Jonnie’s hair.
"I can't,” Jonnie begged, hips tugging uselessly. “Oh god. It's too much, I can't."
Sherlock bit her shoulder, just hard enough to leave crescents of dents in her skin. God, she loved what heat did to Jonnie. "You can take it, love," she soothed, liking the way possessiveness turned her voice dark. Jonnie shook her head desperately, short hair whipping about and sticking to both their faces. "Yes you can. You're made for this." She licked up her neck, loving the salt-and-sex taste of her skin. "You know it only gets worse if you stop."
She snugged her arms around Jonnie and clasped her close for support, shoulders rolling against Sherlock’s breasts while Sherlock's restlessly squirming cocks found their rhythm again and resumed taking her. As Jonnie's moans sharpened toward orgasm again, Sherlock reached down between her legs to run two fingertips along the edge of her dripping, stretched open entrance, teasing her clit and then pushing the first couple of inches inside her till she could feel her own knots inside Jonnie's body.
When her fingers were good and wet and Jonnie was bucking and riding desperately in her lap, Sherlock raised her hand to push her fingers into Jonnie's mouth. "Now taste yourself. See how delicious you are."
The gag of Sherlock's fingers muffled Jonnie's scream as she came again. "One more knot to go," Sherlock whispered to her.