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Beep beep.
Molly rolled her eyes. This was text number 13. She shouldn’t even read them anymore, she told herself as she picked up her phone.
It hurts so bad. I can’t stand this, Molly. I need a fix.
Her eyes widened. The former messages have been the typical ‘come at one’ text, but this one…this one scared her. And it made her furious.Why today? Of all days he could choose to let her in, he chooses this day?!Life wasn’t bloody fair.“I’m sorry, guys, I’ve got to go.”“You’ve got to be kidding me.”Meena glared at her, her glass of wine clonking on the table, spilling some of the red liquid on her fancy white table cloth.“I’m so sorry. He needs me.”Molly began packing her things, throwing apologetic looks around the round table, the six people gathered around looking angry, as well.“He doesn’t need you. Not today. Not on your bloody birthday!”Molly opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t find words. She hadn’t told Meena what had caused the distance between Sherlock and her, and she didn’t intend to do so now. This was neither the time nor the place.“I’ll make it up to you all, I promise. Thank you so much for this, Meena. I love you.”When she saw the tears in Molly’s eyes, Meena’s expression softened.“He doesn’t deserve you, Molly. Tell him that.”“I think he knows.”They pecked each other on the cheek and Molly quickly hugged the few friends she had in her life before she stormed out of Meena’s flat. Their hurt looks were replaced by the image of a very high Sherlock Holmes standing in her lab. If he would do this again, God help him, she would beat the crap out of him. And if this was only a bad joke, she’d kill him. She would absolutely kill him. ~oOo~ When she finally reached Baker Street, her heart was beating faster than usual. She had worked herself up in a quite anxious state, so afraid that Sherlock had shot up even after she had texted back that she was on her way. After throwing some money at the cabbie – a thing she found very rude and would never do under normal circumstances – she jumped out of the car, fumbling for the spare key he had given her years ago.Just when she had inserted it did she notice the piece of paper sticking to the door.It read ‘For the birthday girl’. A little creeped out, she took it and unfolded it.
Dear Molly,
happy birthday! Sorry to steal you away from your dinner, but I couldn’t wait any longer to give you your gift.
It’s waiting upstairs, a nicely wrapped package.
Go have a look!
Love,
M
Molly frowned. M?Her eyes widened when it clicked.‘Oh my God! Moriarty!’Molly hastened up the stairs. When she turned around the corner, there was another note sticking to the wall.
Not Moriarty, silly!
Geesh, how many times does this man have to die so everyone believes he’s really gone?!
Just think of me your fairy-godmother.
M
Her nose wrinkled. Fairy-godmother? M?…Martha? What was this? Some joke?More confused than ever, Molly trotted up the rest of the stairs, surprised at founding the doors to Sherlock’s flat closed. She rolled her eyes in annoyance when she saw the note sticking to the one leading to the living room.
Shhhhhhhh
That’s all it said. Molly was annoyed. And intrigued. She couldn’t help it. Biting her bottom lip she carefully opened the door. The only source of light was the fire-place. She heard the fire cracking and saw the shadows of the flames dancing on Sherlock’s couch and wall. Carefully, she stepped into the room – and stopped dead. Sherlock. Tied to his chair. Blindfolded. Gagged. Sitting in the middle of the room, as if…presented. Two end tables on each side of the chair, packed with various items. …There was a note sticking to his purple shirt. Molly scanned the room and the kitchen for any sign of life. As she came closer, Sherlock’s head snapped up. He mumbled against his gag, pulled at his ties. His hands balled into fists. Oh. He had been tied against his will. Molly was about to hasten to him when the first note popped up in her head: ‘A nicely wrapped package in the living room.’What the heck?!Gnawing at her lip, and throwing a long look at the struggling consulting detective, she decided to read the note first. She could still free him then.
Surprise!
Hope you weren’t too shocked.
Don’t worry, I didn’t hurt him.
If you want to do it though, just choose your weapon from the items I supplied.
Don’t be afraid.
Just enjoy.
He’s all yours.
Love,
M
‘All mine.’Her eyes darted down to Sherlock. Heat filled her cheeks.All hers.Oh, this thought was too dangerous!She couldn’t!Her eyes fell on that long throat she adored so much. God, what was she thinking!No! No, no, no, no, no!Hell, it would be rape! This thought made her flinch. Now she hurried to losen the black satin ribbon over his mouth. As soon as it was gone, the detective bellowed.“What the fuck took you so long?! I’ve been tied to this chair for hours! How dare you let me wait?! What could possibly be more important than freeing me?!”Molly bit her tongue.Rage and disappointment burnt a hole into her heart. He didn’t even know it was her birthday. Because he didn’t care. He had never cared. Not really. She should just go and leave him. One night tied to his chair would teach him a lesson.With tears pricking in her eyes she threw the damned ribbon in his face and turned around.A white piece of paper sticking to the door caught her eyes.It only upset her more.Molly ripped the note off the door and unfolded it.
He yelled at you, didn’t he?
Bloody git. I told him to be a good boy.
He’s such an arse. After everything you have done for him!
You have risked your career for him!
And to top it all off you left a lovely evening with your friends tonight to be with him.
Arsehole!
That man deserves a punishment!
Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.
Just leave.
You’re too good for him, anyway.
M
Yeah, he definitely was a git. M was right. She could have had a wonderful night with her friends, but nooo! She had to come to rescue a man who didn’t give a damn about her, who had never cared to acknowledge how much she loved him!Gritting her teeth, Molly crumbled the paper.“What are you doing? You’re not leaving, are you? You better not leave without untying me, Molly Hooper, or I swear to God, I’ll find you! Then we’ll see how your mood will be after spending four bloody hours in a chair, blindfolded, with nothing to occupy your mind!”She threw the paper ball at him.It bounced off his mop of curls.He sucked in some air.She snorted. Sherlock began pulling at his ties again, cursing her.“I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone. I’ll free myself! Just go! I don’t want you, anyway!”Oh, that bloody child!Molly threw the door close.Sherlock froze and his lips parted.He listened.Then he relaxed a bit.“I know you didn’t leave. No footsteps on the stairs. It takes more to fool me, Molly.”Molly didn’t reply. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and watched him, his head twitching left and right, listening for any sound she’d make.After a minute or so, he let out a breath and sank back into his chair, his head falling backwards.“Just untie me, woman. I’m so fucking bored. It feels like thousands of centipedes are crawling over my skin. If I have to sit here much longer I’ll go crazy. And it will be all your fault.”He shouted the last part, but Molly didn’t listened.Her eyes were wandering over the items on the end tables: A bucket of ice cubes, whipped cream, honey, one glass of wine, the colorful feather of a peacock, a scalpel, a riding crop, a black candle, a Wartenberg wheel, a variety of plugs, lube…and a golden bowl full of condoms.She gulped.“Molly.”His voice made her shudder and she closed her eyes. It was soft now, almost begging.“I’m sorry I yelled. Please untie me. Please.”Molly bit her lips. Her nipples hardened just from the sound of his voice.Heat spread within her body, pooling between her legs. Dear Lord in heaven, what was she thinking?! She couldn’t. Her eyes fell on his pale, exposed throat. And this adorable mole. No. She shouldn’t… …Then why on earth was she taking off her jacket?
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
His head snapped up when he heard the rustling of her clothes.“You’re by the door. You’re taking off your jacket.”He sounded like a drowning man desperate for air, just that in his case it was desperation for data.She threw her jacket on the couch.He told her she had done it.“You’re taking off your shoes. Why are you taking off your shoes?”She had no idea. Her fingers worked on their own. Molly couldn’t think clearly anymore. She just saw him, tied up so nicely, just for her, and all those lovely items surrounding him.The sound of a zipper being pulled down made Sherlock freeze.So did Molly.Her eyes stared at him, observed his face very closely.She saw his adam’s apple bob, then his lips parted.“W-What are you undoing your trousers for?” She had no idea. All she knew that she was taking them off, as well as her socks. Her head was empty when she folded them neatly and put them on his coffee table.When she turned back to him, only wearing a multi-coloured blouse and her underwear, his eyebrows knitted.While Molly was coming to terms with the fact that she was standing in Sherlock’s living room without wearing pants, she could observe his mind racing.His body stiffened when she took a first step in his direction.“This is Molly Hooper, right?”An amused smile played around her lips as she crossed the distance between them. Now she was standing right in front of the chair, between his spread legs.Even though his eyes were blindfolded, the confusion was so very visible in his face. It was fascinating and a bit scary to see him being unsure of something.To give him the answer he obviously craved, she stretched out her arm, her wrist almost touching his nose.As soon as he felt the warmth of her body on his face he flinched, only to suck in a deep breath a second later.Molly bit her lip.“It is you”, he breathed, sounding almost frightened now. It turned her on. So very bad.With her heart beating in her throat she put her knee on the chair.Sherlock sucked in some air.“We don’t do this, Molly”, did he breathe helplessly, his hands balling into fists as his pathologist lowered herself onto his lap, watching his face closely. She didn’t miss the little shaky breath that slipped through his parted lips when her pelvis touched his.“Mol-“His words were cut off when she let her fingers wander into his hair. Somewhere, in the far back of her mind, Molly knew that this was crazy. Letting her most secret dreams come true could have repercussions which would have the power to not only destroy their friendship but also her heart. The thing was tough, she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when she could finally, after all these years, feel the warmth of his lean body and the soft texture of his curls. Not when he smelled so bloody delicious and his hot, ragged breath hit her throat.His open mouth caught her attention while she kept running her fingers through his hair. His bottom lip was trembling. She wanted to lick it. Kiss it. Suck it into her mouth. Bite it.Her hips rolled.Sherlock gasped.The ties strained.Molly shuddered.She could feel his cock, swelling and hardening oh so rapidly now that she was pressing her pussy against it.What a thrill it was. How it was soothing her mind and soul that she could turn him on. All it took was another rolling of her hips and he was all hard and ready for her.Luckily, he couldn’t see the triumphant, gloating grin on her face. He’d kill her for that.Sherlock swallowed hard, his body stiff, his fingers digging into the leather of his chair.He was waiting for her next move.God, this man was so beautiful. Once again she let her fingers slide through his hair relishingly slow, coming a bit closer. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rested her upper body against his.Her heart was fluttering.How intimate this felt, how wonderfully close. Molly looked down at her consulting detective (oh, he would be hers tonight, definitely), the love she felt for this man bubbling to the surface. It enchanted her. She could spent the rest of her life sitting in his lap like this.“What are you doing? Talk to me.”Sherlock’s shaky whisper traveled over her body, leaving goose bumps.She smiled and bit her lip.No, she wouldn’t talk to him. It would make it real, somehow. When she remained silent, maybe this would only be a dream. A wonderful dream. Daring and naughty as she felt, she bent down to his ear. M had chosen a blindfold that left his ears exposed. Such a clever person. But she didn’t speak, even though she felt how anxious he was to hear her voice. Instead she brushed her too small lips over his ear cup.He shivered.Smiling, she did it again. Her hand wandered back into his hair. Gently she pulled, tilted his head so his ear was easier to reach. Oh so lightly did she trace the lines with her lips, placed a kiss onto his skin, only a whisper.His ties strained again.Then Molly closed her lips around his ear lobe and sucked.Sherlock’s hips jerked up.He groaned.Molly ignored it.Her eyes fell close as she placed kiss after kiss on his skin, leaving his ear, wandering down that exquisite throat. When his mole touched her bottom lip she let out a hum, closed her lips around it and sucked his sensitive skin into her mouth. The tip of her tongue circled the beloved mole.Sherlock’s taste exploded in her mouth and she pulled at his hair again, bending his head until she had full, comfortable access to his throat.His hips were jerking again and again, the poor man having no control over his body anymore. He was a panting mess in her arms, pulling at his ties.Molly opened her eyes and looked up as she let the tip of her tongue slide up from his collar bone, all the way to his ear where her mouth claimed it again.Sherlock’s brows rose and his bottom lip quivered as he gasped. His cock – big and hard as it was – pushed against her pussy.“You’re wet, Molly. I can feel it. Your heat is seeping through the trousers…aren’t you wearing knickers?”
The way he said ‘knickers’ made her smile. For him, she hooked her finger into her briefs and let them snap against her skin. He bit his lip when he heard. For a second he looked like he was struggling with himself.“Take them off. Now.” A pleasant shiver ran up her spin at his urgent tone. It was funny how he tried to get in control of the situation. He was a proud man, after all. But tonight, Molly thought wickedly as she stood up, he would see how much better life could be if he swallowed that damned pride down…amongst other things.Molly giggled at her own joke.“Have you done it?” Sherlock asked impatiently. Molly shook her head. Her eyes fell on the table. Flames were dancing on the shiny little blade of the scalpel. Whoever that M was, he or she knew her very well.Her hands closed around the familiar tool, letting the blade scrape the wood.As expected, Sherlock’s head snapped around.“A knife? No…scalpel. Why did you bring a scalpel? No, you didn’t bring it. It was already here, on that table. What table?”Ignoring his fired deductions, Molly sat down between his legs. Patiently she untied his shoes and took them off together with his socks. Sherlock became very still again during this process and when she caressed his foot with her free hand, she saw him press his lips together.Did he like that?“I’m really not into foot stuff.”Molly snorted and let go. Fine then.Her hands closed around his calf and began a massage. The little hairs tickled her fingers. Molly enjoyed watching his face and shoulders relax. A bit longer, then her fingers wandered to his shin and let go completely.Molly bit her lip as she carefully inserted the scalpel into his trouser leg and cut the fabric. The sound alerted Sherlock immediately. But Molly kept going, carefully destroying his expensive trousers. That they were pricey only added to the fun.“You will pay for them.”No, she wouldn’t.Sherlock was relatively relaxed – and looking bored – for the cutting part. The bulge in his pants, however, was still there. The trousers sat tight around his thighs, so Molly put the scalpel away. A mischievous grin spread on her lips as she took the fabric into her hand and roughly tore it apart.
Sherlock flinched, one move having ripped his leg up to his thigh.“You’re stronger than I thought”, did he comment calmly, yet he swallowed hard. He flinched once again when she repeated the step on his second leg. But he remained silent this time and continued to be whilst she opened his belt, pulled it out and made two more careful cut at his hips. Now she could peel the top layer of his trousers away. She let it fall to the floor, her eyes glued to the outline of Sherlock Holmes’ cock in those grey briefs. A mouth-watering sight indeed. It took all her inner strength to not touch it right away. Instead she began opening the buttons of his shirt, from the bottom to the top.“I’m surprised you don’t rip- ah, no, of course. It’s your favourite.”Even though he couldn’t see she stuck her tongue out.Bloody git.His arrogance almost ruined the fun of unwrapping that gorgeous present. But not that much. Molly had waited years for this to happen. No mock or insult in the world could ruin the fun of taking off his shirt.Unfortunately she couldn’t take it off completely. She couldn’t bring herself to cut it. It indeed was her favourite shirt.Molly let out a disappointed sigh.Sherlock bit his bottom lip.“I have more than one purple shirt, Molly.”The smile that spread on her lips would have blinded him. Quickly she rewarded him for his honesty by pecking his cheek. His lips twitched into a smile.Now that she knew that there would be more Sherlock Holmes in his tight purple shirt, Molly destroyed this one within a minute.As the remains of the shirt fell to the floor, Molly took in the sight of an almost naked Sherlock. She had to bite her lip not to let out a dreamy sigh.But, so help her God, he truly was the most beautiful, most perfect man in the entire world. His physique was flawless; the broad chest, the curve of the shoulders, the narrow hips, the long, muscular legs…a sight to die for.“Are you drooling yet? You’ve certainly waited long enough to get a look at me.”The dreamy expression on Molly’s face turned into a rebellious pout.His cocky smile made her grab the riding crop. When she pressed the leather tongue into his cheek, the smile vanished.“So we’ll start with the riding crop…the irony is not lost on me.”Sherlock swallowed hard, trying and failing at suppressing a shudder when the cool leather wandered along his jawbone and down his throat.“You have to be careful. Too much force will leave visible bruises, too little force will have no effect o-“Molly let the leather slap his shoulder. Sherlock was cut off mid sentence. His hands balled into fists.“Yeah…yes, that’s the right amount”, he uttered hoarsely. “Which makes me wonder if you have do-“Once again she interrupted him, slapping his chest.It started heaving.When Sherlock opened his mouth to speak once more, she slapped him again. That’s when he got it. He bit his tongue and limited himself to squirming in his seat whilst the leather continued to wander over his chest, arms, and down his belly. By the time it glided over his thigh there were two red spots where Molly hit him. It was a lovely sight, actually.Molly bit her lip, the tongue of the riding crop wandering up and down his thigh. And then…Sherlock’s mouth fell open when Molly let it slide up and down his length. A second later he pressed his lips together, the muscles in his arms flexing. Obviously he tried to fight the sensation his pathologist caused. But it in the end…A satisfied smile spread on her lips when Sherlock let out a throaty moan. For several minutes did she tease him with the riding crop, alternating between tenderly caressing his pale skin and slapping his chest, arms and inner thighs. Sherlock kept fighting her, so every desperate little moan he let out was a triumph that ran over Molly’s skin like warm summer rain.It got too much for him, though, when she let the leather tongue slip into the tent his cock had built in his briefs. His hips jerked up and his head fell back for a second.“God, Molly. I’ll come in my knickers if you keep doing this.”She giggled. His voice sounded too adorable.“Don’t laugh at me!” he protested – and got punished with a light slap on his cock. Sherlock flinched and groaned. A dark spot spread in his grey briefs.Molly pulled out the riding crop and put it back on the table. Sherlock was panting in his chair, a deep blush on his cheeks. The pre-cum in his pants told Molly that he needed a break.Molly was not finished with him, yet.Hell no.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Molly reached for the glass of wine and sipped it, standing in front of Sherlock and watching him slowly calm down. After his breathing was back to normal, he listened.“You’re not seriously drinking wine while I’m tied to my chair, are you?”She smiled when he pulled at his ties. “It’s getting cold, Molly.”It was very warm due to the closed doors and the fire, but if he insisted…Molly straddled him.Sherlock’s jaw clenched.“I was thinking of a blanket.”She just smiled and began weaving through his hair. This beautiful mop of curls. She watched the light of the fire dance on the silken strands. It was very relaxing. Not for Sherlock, though. His cock was pulsating against her pussy. Molly gently rolled her hips while she drank.“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”‘Obviously,’ she thought. But so was he.“At least get me something to drink. My throat is dry.”Oh, what wicked thoughts entered her mind. Thoughts that made her blush a bright shade of red. It must be the wine. The glass was empty.She put it back on the table. Then she looked at his mouth, rolling her hips relishingly slow over that lovely big cock. It fell open. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and leaned her upper body against his, riding him very slowly.She had never noticed how expressive his mouth was, she thought while her fingertips brushed over his long throat. With each move of her hips the bottom lip quivered, opened a little more when she pressed her sex against his, a ragged breath escaping. It was fascinating.Wondering how he would react, Molly now pressed and moved her hips in little circles.To her greatest joy Sherlock let out a husky moan and his head fell back.“Something to drink, Molly.”She interrupted him with another movement and she could hear his finger dig into the leather armrest. How desperately he tried to appear unaffected. It was really silly. Did he really think his erect shaft and his body language weren’t telling? Did he seriously believe that he could fool her? Silly, silly man. Molly would show him. She shifted back to his legs before she reached for an ice cube. The first one slipped through her fingers and landed on the floor. She giggled while Sherlock deduced.“Ice cubes?”Admittedly, he was brilliant. She’d love to ask how on earth he figured that out, but she rather preferred to remain silent. It all felt more mysterious, somehow. Sexy…“How many items are there? Tell me.”He would learn soon enough.For now she grabbed another ice cube and fisted her hand in his hair, bending his head backwards. Sherlock’s mouth opened automatically. Instead of putting it into his sweet mouth, she held the cube above it and waited for the first drop of water to fall between his lips.“This will take forever”, the consulting detective complained. Molly only grinned. She had all the time in the world.A few more drops fell into his mouth, then Molly let the cool surface run along his bottom lip and the tiny scar in the left corner. Her heart skipped a beat when his tongue darted out and licked it off. Again and again did she lure it out of its cave, her face lowering down to his.All of a sudden, Sherlock’s lips opened and he turned his face towards her. Silently he begged for her kiss. A thousand butterflies were dancing in her belly now. Something held her back. She couldn’t do it. It didn’t seem the right moment. And not the right reason. She had sworn herself that, should she ever kiss Sherlock Holmes, it would only be because he had told her that he loved her.Her thumb brushed over his cool lip. It quivered. Molly’s heart skipped a beat when this beautiful mouth kissed her thumb.With love in her heart Molly caressed his cheek.Sherlock frowned. “Why won’t you kiss me?”She had no answer to his ragged whisper. She just looked at the mouth she had dreamed of so often, let the ice cube slide over it and then gently pushed it into his mouth.Sherlock protested, but closed his lips around it. Molly giggled as she saw the bulge in his cheek and poked it with a finger. Her plaything grunted and turned his head away. Even after Molly pinched his nipple he didn’t look at her – well, turn his head in her direction.Seemed he was pouting, which was quite cute. Molly had never thought it possible that it would upset the great Sherlock Holmes that she hadn’t kissed him. To make peace with him, she kissed his cheek instead, once, twice. But then sneaky Sherlock Holmes quickly turned his head, trying to steal the kiss she was denying him. He failed however, only catching the corner of her mouth.With a frustrated groan he spit out the half-melted cube. It landed on the carpet. Molly suppressed a giggle and twisted his nipple.Sherlock bit down on his lip.Molly twisted harder, now bringing her nail in play.His muscles tensed, she could see how desperately he tried to stay calm. The groan burst out of him when she pulled quite roughly.“Damn you, Molly Hooper,” he cursed hoarsely.
She knew he didn't mean that, for the lovely cock between her thighs was still hot and throbbing. But she stood up anyway. To punish him was only one reason. The other was her own lust tingling beneath her skin. This need for him was strong; his scent and warmth, that beautiful body, his moans and groans. God, she wanted him bad. A part of her wanted to just rip off his briefs and impale herself on his cock. That long, hard, begging cock...
But Sherlock wasn't ready yet. His cock might be begging, but his mind was still fighting her. Molly wanted to hear him beg, as well. Before she could continue the teasing though, she had to take a little rest or the consulting detective would come before the real fun even began. Not that this wasn't fun. It was the best birthday gift ever.
Looking at the blindfolded face, Molly began to unbutton her blouse. She took her time, using it to cool down a bit. Also she wanted to give Sherlock something to do, an opportunity to get his mind working again. She knew he despised it when his body took control.As expected Sherlock's head tilted to the side, his ears listening to her every move. A jolt rushed through Molly when he tensed and his jaw clenched. He knew what she was doing. Suddenly it felt like he was watching her. Her heart beat faster and heat filled her cheeks. She smiled and bit her lip as she opened the next button. And the next. Tilting her head to the side, she rubbed her thighs together. Sherlock's jaw clenched again.When the last button was done, Molly slowly brushed the fabric off her shoulders. Sherlock's head moved. Other than that he sat very still, breathed very flatly. He listened so intensely.The blouse fell to the floor. He gulped. His lips moved. Molly smiled. He had mouthed the word 'bra'.She reached behind her back, her spine cracking between her shoulders. The cost of working bent over corpses. His chest heaved. As slowly as the blouse she removed her bra, keeping her eyes on him. A cool breeze hit her naked breasts and her eyes fluttered shut. Like ghost fingers did the air caress her sensitive nipples and Molly wished they were Sherlock's. But he wouldn't do this tonight. His hands would remain tied to the armrests of his chair.She opened her eyes before she dropped the bra on the floor, saw how his elegant hands balled into fists.“Your knickers, Molly...please.”Her heart skipped a beat at this hoarse plead. Feeling all his senses on her, she placed her fingers on her throat. From there they wandered down, brushing over her breasts, down her flat belly. Sherlock's chest was rising and falling quickly, his lips still parted.Torturingly slow for both of them, Molly hooked her fingers into the waistband of her knickers and pulled them down her thighs, her knees, her calves. After she stepped out of them, Sherlock let out a breath he had been holding. His hands flexed, then he reached them out. They trembled.Molly remained in her spot, looking at him. His ties strained as he tried to reach out further. His entire body tensed when she still wouldn't move. Sherlock pressed his lips together and gulped.“...Please...please...”His words felt like warm raindrops running down her body. Molly's heart was aching, her body screaming for his touch. Did he feel the same? Did he feel this...need?When he pleaded again, she almost believed it.The breath got stuck in his throat when he heard her feet move over the carpet. Molly couldn't breathe, either. Her eyes were fixated on his right hand; this hand she loved so much. Now almost frightened, she stepped in his reach.Her thigh brushed against his middle finger. Both let out a breath. And then, Lord help her...
Molly's eyes fluttered close as Sherlock's shaking fingers slowly ran over her thigh. Slowly, ever so gently did he feel her skin, every inch he could reach. Molly got goose bumps and moved her leg when his fingertips wanted to explore the sensitive skin of the insides of her thighs. She couldn't help the little gasp that escaped her lips. Sherlock puffed out some air, so Molly opened her eyes.
Her entire body quivered when she saw the expression on his face, those parted lips and raised eyebrows mirroring his fascination.Molly's heart ached. Never had she felt more beautiful than right now.Further and further did his fingers travel up her inner thigh. When he reached the point where his ties didn't allow him to continue his journey, he let out a shaky breath.“Molly...please...I want...I need to touch you. Please. God, please.”It was a soothing balm for her aching heart to hear him beg for her like this. With a smile she stepped away.Sherlock gasped.“No. No. Molly!”His muscles flexed and he pulled at his bonds. For a second he looked like he wanted to scream. But when Molly put her knee on the chair once more, he instantly relaxed and lifted his head in her direction, impatiently shifting in his seat.Molly knelt over him, close enough that he could feel the heat of her body. When she didn't embrace him, Sherlock tried to cheat again. Of course Molly had anticipated it and gently pushed him back into his seat. Sherlock let out a frustrated breath and let his head fall back. Molly kept her eyes on him as she reached down...
Sherlock's head snapped up as the first sound reached his ears. Molly blushed furiously, but she kept moving her fingers, her eyes fixed on his mouth. His lips were parted, as were hers. Together they panted as Molly stroke herself, letting him listen to the sounds of it; letting him hear how wet she already was; for him. All for him.Due to her hand still being pressed on his chest, Molly could feel Sherlock's thundering heartbeat, felt his chest heaving, and heard his ragged breath.Once again he pushed against her hand, tried to unite their bodies. When she denied him, he let out a sound close to a sob.“God, Molly. Please. I can't stand this. No more. Please, no more...It hurts so bad.”The text M had sent popped up in her head and a wave of fear rushed through her. Her hand stilled between her leg. Frightened, she looked at him with wide eyes, finally seeing the signs of his suffering. Her hand cupped his face and she pressed her forehead against his. Sherlock panted against her lips. With every stroke of her thumb over his cheekbone Molly told him that he could trust her; that he was safe with her; that she would never leave him.After a while, Sherlock's breath slowed down.“Please kiss me, Molly,” did he whisper, tilting his head up. For one wonderful second, their lips were not even an inch away. Molly shivered as his nose nudged hers. How bad she wanted to kiss him...But he wasn't himself right now. He was vulnerable. She would never take advantage of his emotions like this. So she kissed him on both covered eyes and on the tip of his nose. Letting out a desperate sound he pressed his face into her neck and took a deep breath. “Why don't you want me?”How could he think something like that?To show him what he meant to her she slung her arms around him. Finally, their naked bodies melted together.Sherlock moaned into her neck. The sensation of their touching bodies overwhelmed them both. Molly closed her eyes. Time became meaningless for them as she tightly embraced the man she loved more than anything in this world. They listened to each others' heartbeat; how it slowed down and synchronized. They felt their bodies, their skin, his chest hair, her hot breasts.Every distance emotional in nature melted away. Her fear to get hurt. His fear to love. Banished into the furthest corners of their minds. Tonight was not about that. Tonight was not about overcoming those obstacles.Tonight was about love.“Will you really not kiss me?” Sherlock asked after a felt eternity.Molly shook her head, knowing he could feel the movement in her neck.“Will you fuck me?”A shiver ran down her spine, his question only a whisper.Biting down on her lip, she nodded.“Will you make me beg?”She nodded again, a cheeky smile on her lips.“Then go ahead. But don't be too cruel, Molly. I am already aching for you...so much.”While he spoke, his mouth had traveled up her neck and was now brushing over her earlobe. Molly gasped and goose bumps spread on her neck.Oh, that man was dangerous.Feeling cheeky she bit into his neck, his surprised moan causing her to grin. Before he could take his revenge she leaned back and pushed him into his seat.“I don't like the distance,” did Sherlock admit.Neither did she. But he would get the opportunity to feel her again sooner than he thought.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Once more Molly stood in front of sitting Sherlock, this time naked as God had made her. The man was silent for a change, calmly waiting for her next move. His dick was still outlined underneath his grey briefs, big and hard. There were still some toys to use before Molly would set it free.After a short contemplation she went for the Wartenberg wheel.The moment the sharp pin dug into the skin of his shoulder, he flinched. When the wheel had reached his neck, Sherlock deduced it.“A Wartenberg neurowheel. Designed to test nerve reactions...I get its utility in foreplay,” he ended hoarsely as Molly leisurely rolled the shiny steel wheel over his throat. Sherlock sunk back into his chair while his torturess rolled the pins of the wheel across his bottom lip. His mouth opened. Molly shivered when the tip of his tongue slipped out. Carefully, she rolled the pins over it. Sherlock gasped.He really did look beautiful with his tongue hanging out, Molly thought, and did it again. Then she rolled down and began exploring his chest.A throaty moan escaped him and he flinched when the pins dug into his left nipple. Molly grinned. During the next few minutes, Sherlock would do this a lot. And Molly had the time of her life watching him. He began panting when she reached his thighs and began curving around his cock, the pins poking through the fabric of his briefs into his sensitive flesh. His entire body was tense and squirming in the leather seat and he puffed out a breath of air when the sharp pins stung the top of his inner thigh. When he spread his legs, a shiver ran up Molly's spine. So offering, her little plaything. She really loved seeing him like this. It made her kneel down between those spread, muscular legs. Sherlock gasped.“Jesus,” did he whisper with a great deal of desperation, and he shifted down, his hips jerking.Molly couldn't help but roll her eyes. All men were the same, weren't they? They all wanted their dicks to be sucked. Even the great Sherlock Holmes.'Mind over matter my ass,' Molly thought.With a wicked grin she put the Wartenberg wheel on the floor and laid her hands on his knees. Watching his face closely – how he pressed his lips together and knitted his eyebrows – she spread his legs as far apart as possible. Ever so slowly did her outstretched fingers glide up his thighs.Momentarily Molly was distracted by his soft skin and the little hairs underneath her hand. In little circles did she move, exploring every inch of his thighs, from brushing the kneecap with just her finger tips to firmly kneading the muscles with her hands. All the while Sherlock's hips were slightly rolling and jerking, trying to catch her attention. Oh so needy. Teasing him even more she wandered to the insides of his thighs and, using just the tips of her fingers, traveled north until they touched his knickers. Another pant reached her eyes and his hips jerked a bit. A wicked smile adorned her lips when she slipped into his briefs, just the fingertips again. She felt the heat of his cock as she brushed from side to side, wandering a bit further, almost touching the hot bulge in the middle without actually doing it.Sherlock was very brave in all this. He gasped and squirmed and tried to move his hips so that her hands would finally, finally touch his throbbing cock. He tried to be a good boy, Molly could clearly see him struggling. But in the end, he couldn't stand it anymore.“Please,” he panted, “please. Please, please, please.”Molly couldn't help the little triumphant giggle that burst out of her. To her surprise, he didn't snap or protest. He just begged some more.Her hands stilled on his hipbones, halfway in his briefs.When he realized it, he let out a frustrated groan and let his head plop onto the backrest. His chest was heaving and his breath was ragged.He was so beautiful in his suffering it made Molly's heart flutter in her chest.“My skin is burning. My heart is beating erratically. I feel light-headed, most probably because of the lacking blood supply.”Molly grinned at this. How sweet he was, deducing himself.“My mind is foggy, I can't think logically. My head is overwhelmed with data...of you. All I think and feel is you. And those bloody animalistic instincts. I want to gnaw through the cords around my wrists and then...then I want to bury my head between your legs so I can taste your pussy. You can't imagine how badly I want to know what you taste like, Molly...And what it feels like having your mouth sucking my cock...How hot it is. What your tongue feels like...how you move it...how strong the suction will be...what sounds you make doing it...having your breath hit my skin while you take it all...Jesus Christ!”Sherlock's entire body jerked up and he pulled roughly on his ties, his head turned from side to side.Oh, how much he longed for her, her darling!Should she have mercy on him?His entire body was trembling and hot beneath her hands. If she would grant his wish and take him into her mouth now, she was sure he wouldn't last long. Molly was good at sucking dick. And she loved doing it. And she had had very many, very filthy dreams about just a scene like this, sucking him while he sat in his chair.But she wanted to enjoy it longer than a minute.No, she concluded, now was not the time.Sherlock let out a whimper when she pulled her hands out of his knickers. His hands reached out for her, his wrists already red from all his struggling. Reassuring him that she wouldn't leave him, Molly tenderly kissed his kneecap, letting her mouth linger for a moment.She had never kissed a man's knee before, she thought with an inward smile.“Please, Molly. Give me something. Anything! I'm going insane. Let me touch you again. Hug me. I need to feel your skin. Just for a moment. Please. Please...”Molly brushed her cheek against his inner thigh and stroke the outside with her hand. Sherlock moved his leg until it was pressed against her side and his foot kneaded her calf. Instantly a bit of tension left his body. Molly was surprised; and touched. She kissed his inner thigh.For almost a minute they sat like this, Sherlock blindly staring at the ceiling, his mouth open, still breathing flatly. When Molly saw how he licked his lips her pussy twitched.His words were swirling in her head and before she completely understood what she was doing, her eyes wandered over the seat.If she knelt on the armrests...A mental picture appeared in front of her eyes, so clear, so vivid, that she flinched. Her pussy twitched again and she felt more heat and wetness gather between her thighs.Good Lord, what was she thinking?!No, she couldn't!…No, she didn't dare. All yours. 'All mine...'Her eyes fixated his open mouth. That unique, fascinating, heavenly mouth... Molly found herself on her feet. Sherlock's head turned in her direction when she walked around the chair to stand next to him. With her heart drumming against her rib cage she stared at him.She had never dared to do such a thing.“Molly?”He opened his palm. She only blinked.“What? What's wrong? Talk to me.”Instead of answering him she placed a hand on her belly and bit her lip. With her eyes fixed on his face she let the trembling fingers wander down, down...Sherlock's brows shot up when he heard. Out of the corners of her eyes she saw the cock in his briefs twitch.Molly could barely breathe.Yet, she pushed two fingers into her wet cave. Sherlock stiffened and listened intensely. Once again it felt like he was watching her. Molly shivered and moved her fingers. Once. Twice.Then she pulled out.Sherlock gasped at the wet sound.Without a word he understood, and Molly's heart skipped a beat when he lifted his head and opened his mouth.Her wet fingers were shaking as she reached out.Her own lips were parted when she ran the tip of her middle finger over his full bottom lip. His tongue darted out, licked the wetness off. A shudder ran through him and with a throaty moan he sucked his lip into his mouth.It was the most erotic thing she had ever seen.“More. Please.”His mouth opened again and Molly panted. Her heart was beating in her throat. Carefully she entered his mouth with both her fingers.Sherlock's loud groan surprised her and she flinched when he firmly closed his lips around her fingers and sucked hard. Shiver after shiver ran up and down her body as Sherlock Holmes licked and sucked her juice off her fingers. He was so hungry for her, she still couldn't believe it.With a sucking sound he let the fingers plop out of her mouth when there wasn't anything left of her on them.“More, Molly! Give me more. Please. All. I want it all.”He was back to squirming in his seat and pulling at his bonds.God, how much she loved him right now. His desire for her filled and healed the countless holes he had stabbed into her heart.“Come to me. I want your sweet pussy on my mouth. God, that sweet, sweet pussy. Climb on the chair. You can put your knees on the armrests. The backrest will support your thighs. Totally doable. Please, Molly! Please, I'll do anything you want just...let me have you. Just for a little while. I'm yours, Molly. I'm all yours. Please...let me have you...”His begging made her heart ache and she let her hands weave through his hair before she cradled his face, this beautiful face. How could she say no to him now?Soothingly she stroke his cheekbones with her thumbs. Then she put her knee on the armrest.Sherlock whispered a desperate 'oh God' when he felt the leather yield. He guided her with words, told her where to place her hands for support. Then Molly swung her leg over, almost losing balance. She'd never been a graceful woman. But the knee landed on the other armrest and Molly flinched when Sherlock's breath hit her pubic mound.“Do you have a good hold? Tell me by grabbing my hair. I can barely contain myself. I can smell you now...my mouth his filling with saliva...”Molly smiled and shifted around a bit, just as impatient as her consulting detective was. When she felt secure, she looked down, her heart beating even faster at the sight of Sherlock's face right in front of her drenched pussy. As soon as she grabbed his hair, he lifted his head.Molly flinched and gasped when first his nose, then his cheek pushed against her pubic mound.“Didn't think you were one for a landing strip, Molly Hooper. But then again I never thought you'd beat me with a riding crop.”She smiled and wove trough his full hair. Her lips were parted as his nose brushed up and down the dark strip of pubic hair. She gasped again when she saw and felt the tip of his tongue glide around the edges.What a feeling. Her pussy was throbbing with need while he continued to explore her pubic mound with his tongue, licking the V-shape of her pelvis and placing feathery kisses on her bald skin. It was so sensual and tender, but absolutely frustrating. Obviously, he was paying her back. She couldn't blame him. If he suffered half as much as she did now, she deserved the pain. It took all her self-control to not press his face against her sopping pussy.Suddenly, a nip. Molly twitched and fisted her hand into his hair.“Your scent is driving me insane. My cock is aching for your cunt, Molly. I can't wait a second longer. I need to-”His tongue plowed through her slit.Molly squealed and roughly pulled back his head. It was totally out of surprise, but he thought she had punished him.“I'm sorry. I'll be good now. I promise,” came his hoarse reply.And when she let him go...Gosh, he really was a good boy.Such a very, very good boy... Molly quivered at the apologetic kiss Sherlock pressed blindly onto her pubic mound. She eased the grip on his hair and slowly straightened. The tip of his tongue slid down her pubic hair and then gently dipped into the cleft of her labia.Molly bit her lip and her eyes fluttered close. Now just as blind as him, she only felt. Felt the wet tip explore the hills and valleys of her hot flesh, retreating from time to time to feed his mouth with her juice. His hot breath hit her mound when he breathed loudly through his nose. A second later the tongue was back, licking from bottom to top with the flat side, ever so slowly, drinking more of her.Molly shivered.She had dreamed of this so many times, still it couldn't live up to reality. Never had she imagined him to cherish her like that, to relish in her taste so obviously. His tongue was thorough, tasting every inch, circling the outer labia just with the tip before it rolled over her clit and down to gently nudge against her entrance.Every little sigh and moan from her lips did he use as guidance and within minutes he had learnt exactly what drove her crazy.She cursed and blessed his magnificent gifts, and flinched again when he pressed a tender but firm kiss on her clit.“I want to make you come, Molly. Can I?”His voice was hoarse and hot against her flesh. She nodded, momentarily forgetting that he was blindfolded. A look down reminded her. So she stroke his hair and gently pulled his head against her cunt.“Thank you,” did he breathe against her flesh.Then his tongue entered her cave, sudden an unexpected. Molly moaned and almost lost her balance. She clawed her fingers into the backrest of his chair and stared down at her plaything, who was lapping at her cunt like a drowning man now. He fucked her with his tongue, pushed in deep and fast, only to pull out and torture her swollen clit with firm flicks.He shouldn't be so good at this, she thought as she desperately clung to the chair, her legs shaking in the rhythm of his strokes.When her nipples hardened and tingled, she knew it wouldn't take long now. Somehow, Sherlock knew, too. He groaned against her flesh and closed his beautiful lips around her clit, sucking hard, making obnoxiously loud noises.Molly loved it. It drove her even faster.With a loud squeal she came on his face, shaking and panting and moaning. Her head was spinning as wave after wave rolled through her body. From afar she heard Sherlock groan and moan, felt him lap and suck at her cunt, prolonging her ecstasy and turning it into torture when her flesh became too sensitive.With a desperate gasp she grabbed his hair and pulled him away from her, only to sink onto his lap where his hard cock pressed against her soaked pussy. They moaned in unison at the contact.Panting hard Molly slung her arms around him and pressed her face into his neck, breathing in his scent.Holy shit! She had just come on Sherlock's face. Sherlock Holmes had eaten her out!Another tiny orgasm overcame her and she shuddered against his lean, warm body.His head turned and he pressed his lips against her jaw, her neck, every inch of her he could reach. The wetness made her look up.She shivered when he saw his lips and his chin shine with her juice. She giggled. To her surprise, he flashed her a proud grin and licked his bottom lip.“You're delicious.”Molly blushed and reached for a tissue. Cupping his chin she wiped herself off his face. Then she snuggled against him again, stroking his face with hers and placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.“Still no kiss...,” he sighed, “I gave my best, you know.”She smiled and placed her index finger onto her lips, kissing it soundly before pressing it onto his lips.He only grunted a complaint. If he would have been able to, he'd rolled his eyes at her.With a happy and relaxed sigh she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, enjoying the buzz after climax and Sherlock's calming heartbeat against her chest.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
With her head resting on Sherlock's shoulder, Molly let her eyes wander over the items on the end table to her left. She was happy and somewhat satisfied at the moment, still her head was already planning what to do to him next. There was a dark pull in her abdomen and her eyes kept returning to the black candle. She bit her lip, very well aware that the decision had already been made. She just didn't know why; why she couldn't wait to see him squirm and flinch again. It worried her a bit. Molly didn't consider herself a sadistic person. Then why did it turn her on so much to see Sherlock in pain? Having no answer to this question, Molly lifted herself off her plaything.
Sherlock followed her every move with little movements of his head, trying to figure out what she was doing from the sounds she made. Molly didn't mind.
When she had finished the task of lighting the black candle, Sherlock swallowed hard.
“I don't understand. I was good, wasn't I? I made you come.”
The nervousness in his voice – oh, it was such a thrill. Molly found herself smiling as she looked down at him, slowly tilting the candle.
Sherlock hissed when the first drop of hot wax landed on his shoulder. For the second drop he pressed his lips together. Molly knitted her brows. A silent Sherlock was no fun. She wanted to hear him moan. Walking behind the chair, she gripped his hair and pulled roughly.
There it was.
Such a sweet moan. It traveled down her spine like a drop of water.
Molly tilted the candle and parted her lips when a drop of black wax landed on his throat. She was rewarded with a loud hiss. Beautiful. For a couple of seconds she watched the wax run down his skin before it hardened.
Black was a good colour on him. One by one the drops landed on his upper body. Molly wandered from top to bottom, taking her time, listening to every little moan and swallowed gasp her plaything uttered. A particularly load groan escaped his full lips when she let the next drop fall directly on his already hard nipple and Molly smiled. So his nipples were sensitive. Very good to know. She spared the other one for now. Instead she traveled south to his muscular abdomen, kept drawing on his skin like a painter on a canvas. Molly's thighs were resting against the cool leather, her upper body bent forward, Sherlock's head between her thighs. Every pant hitting her skin was hot and caused her skin to tingle.
When Molly let the next drop of hot candle wax land underneath his belly button, his hips jerked and his head spun around. His hot, open mouth pressed against her inner thigh and his tongue darted out, licking over her skin. Molly trembled and paused as he sucked her skin between his teeth and began nipping at her flesh, inhaling and exhaling soundly. His entire body was writhing and she felt his need for her, this need for her body as well as for her comfort. But not yet.
Denying him the contact, she moved her leg out of his reach. As expected, Sherlock let out a sound of frustration and he begged by panting her name. This time, Molly didn't give in. She walked to the side of the chair and let a few more drops land on the sensitive skin underneath his belly button until he whimpered. Only after this sweet, sweet sound did she move on, watching his legs shake and twitch as she decorated them, as well.
He was sweating and his chest heaving by the time she was done with him, countless of lines on his arms now, as well. He looked like a beautiful black and white painting, Molly couldn't help but think as she blew out the candle and placed it back on the table.
Sherlock let his head fall back and relaxed, taking deep breaths through his quivering, parted lips. While he was catching his breath, Molly sank on her knees and leaned against him.
“That was uncalled for”, came his complaint. He sounded hurt.
Molly only smiled and wound her arms around him. She held him until the heartbeat beneath her ear normalized. Then she began placing little kisses between the long black lines on his chest. Sherlock was very silent and unresponsive to her caresses, still pouting.
But he had given himself away earlier. Molly looked up at him before she let the tip of her tongue circle around his nipple.
A throaty gasp left his throat and he tensed. Gently kissing his nipple, she smiled against his skin. The clenching of his jaw told her that he noticed.
“You're not as clever as you think, Molly Hooper,” did he snap, his voice far from sounding as sharp as he most probably had intended.
Not being bothered by the insult at all, Molly continued to tease his nipple, all the while slightly rubbing her belly over his cock. It had softened during her wax torture, but her tongue in combination with her rubbing belly and breasts had him semi-hard within a few minutes. That's when she let go of him, not missing how his hands balled into fists for a moment. Then he tried to relax again, not fooling her, of course. By now Molly was certain that he craved the body contact just as much as she did.
She was kneeling in front of him, hands on her thighs, just observing. Denying him all, even the sounds. It was a fascinating progress to witness, the rising frustration, the flash of anger, some more frustration, his inner struggle to remain unaffected. It was all so visible in his face and body; hands clenching, muscles tensing, brows furrowing, lips pressed tightly together...
Ah, these lips. These beautiful, beautiful lips.
Like the black wax, Molly's eyes traveled down the gorgeous body.
That cock, though. Only semi-hard. She bet he was trying to bring it down. He was a bad boy for pouting like this. Molly was already contemplating how to punish him when she paused.
Why did she want to hurt him again? Or better said, at all? This entire night had been so not her. She wasn't violent. She had never done anything like this with any of her other boyfriends. Never had she had had this urge she felt right now. Maybe it was because he was bound? But she had done this with Tom, even the blindfold. Yet she hadn't had the wish to whip him with a riding crop.
Was this some kind of wish for revenge that drove her now? Sherlock had inflicted so much pain on her throughout the years, some of it knowingly, some of it unknowingly, but it had hurt all the same. Did she want to pay him back?
While she thought about it, she watched Sherlock shifting in his seat, the silence slowly driving him mad. His hair stuck to his forehead, those lush lips were quivering, the beautiful chest was slowly heaving and those long musician hands were balled into fists. A jolt of arousal flooded her when she saw the marks the rope had left on his wrists.
Gosh, was she a bad person? Getting off on his suffering was wrong...wasn't it?
Yes, yes it was...
And yet she couldn't stop her body to heat up the longer she watched Sherlock fighting with himself to not beg for her. There was this dark spot in her soul that wanted to drive him to the edge, wanted to see him sweat and cry and writhe, wanted to hear him moan and gasp and beg for more. It wanted to hear this superior, arrogant, aloof man beg her with a shaking voice to fuck him as hard as she could.
A pleasant shiver ran down her spine.Oh yes. Yes...
No! No, that would be wrong.
...Just tonight, then. She deserved this. She's done so much for him. All he had to do in return was to let her use him. He had already agreed, so he obviously wanted it, too.
...But what about tomorrow? How could she ever face him again after this? Would he despise her? Could they still be friends?
...After everything she had seen and felt tonight, were they still friends? The term felt wrong to her now. Maybe their friendship was ruined already.
...If that was the case, then she should make the best of the situation, enjoy him as much as possible. If things must end, they should end with a bang.
The bowl of anal plugs caught her eyes and Molly began gnawing on her bottom lip. Such deliciously wicked thoughts filled her head. She wondered if...
When she finally moved after minutes of absolute silence, Sherlock let out a puff of air.
“I thought you had fallen asleep”, came his arrogant comment.
Instead of feeling insulted, Molly was amused. So cocky, her plaything (she should come up with a better name for him. Although, after all, that's what he was; her little sex doll).
Standing next to the chair she rummaged through the bowl, deliberately swirling her hand through the collection of butt plugs. Judging from his knitted eyebrows Sherlock had difficulties identifying the source of the noises. Apparently not much experience with these. Interesting.
In the end, Molly closed her fingers around an 6 inch, stainless steel butt plug with a clear jewel at the base. She liked the way the light danced on its polished surface. A jolt of anticipation rushed through her. She had some experience in this area, means she loved butt plugs. For a second she wondered how M could have known, but decided not to dwell on it now. Instead she put one knee on the chair between Sherlock's leg and bent over, placing one hand on the backrest. Biting her lip again, Molly slowly let the tip of the cool plug run over his bottom lip. Back and forth did she swipe, then he finally opened his mouth. To see the tip of his tongue slip out and carefully nudge against the steel was both thrilling and arousing. Her lips parted and her heartbeat accelerated as she watched Sherlock explore the plug. The mouth of this man was so bloody sexy. When she gently pushed the plug into it, Sherlock let it happen. His cheeks became hollow and Molly felt the pull of his suction. A shiver rushed down her spine, the heat inside her increasing more and more. For almost a minute they played with the plug, Molly moving it around inside his mouth and Sherlock sucking and licking it. When she finally pulled it out, it was all warm and wet.
“I want to put it inside you. Please. I promise I'll be good.”
It was more than satisfying to have Sherlock hot and bothered again. His breathing was flat and a glance down proved that he was completely hard. Just how she wanted him. With a few kisses on his long throat Molly knelt on the chair completely. Her lips wandered up along his jaw to catch his earlobe, sucking only a second. Then she let her hand wander between her thighs. Her eyes fluttered shut when the warm, wet tip pressed against her small entrance. Resting her cheek against his, Molly let Sherlock listen to her breathing as she pushed the plug inside, her lips right next to his ear. To know that the lubricant was only Sherlock's saliva was a thrill that made her moan. So did he. While she adjusted to the stretch and the weight, he pressed his lips against her pulse point.
“You're so goddamn sexy”, did he pant against her neck. His voice together with the plug almost made her come right then and there and she clawed her hand into his shoulder, causing him to hiss, his hot breath clashing against her sensitive skin.
“Please fuck me now, Molly. I need to feel you...and the plug.”
His lips were shaking when he placed open-mouthed kisses on her neck. So eager he was now. That's how she wanted him.
Slowly she sat up, allowing his mouth to catch her right nipple on the way, sucking and nibbling oh so hungrily. Sherlock let it plop out when she pulled back. Molly grinned but pinched his neck, anyway. His boyish grin made her heart flutter.
Finally, the moment had come. Molly was kneeling between his legs, her fingers hooked into his briefs. Eagerly Sherlock lifted his buttocks off the chair, letting out an impatient breath. The sounds he made were so exquisite, she thought as she slowly pulled down the last piece of clothing.
A little gasp escaped the consulting detective's lips when his aching cock sprang free. Proud and tall did he rise before her, the shape and colour nothing but mouth-watering. Of course this man had to be bloody perfect. A part of her wanted to take him into her mouth, explore the smooth head and the thick shaft with her tongue, give him a blow job he would never forget. From past experience she knew that she was quite good at it. But the way Sherlock sat there with his legs spread and his hips pushed out stopped her. Tonight was about her. It was her birthday. Not his. And she'd much rather want to feel him inside her pussy than her mouth. But before this would happen, there was one task left to do...
The disappointment was visible in his body language when she rose to her feet, but Sherlock bit his lip not to protest. It seemed that he had finally understood that she was in command. He closed his legs and adjusted his position, getting ready to get straddled. Eagerly did he await her, his cock bobbing as if to attract her pussy. Molly inwardly giggled at the thought. For a second she drank him in like this, in his natural, raw beauty. A beauty that was all hers to enjoy and devour. In about five minutes.
“I...I don't understand”, came his hoarse comment when her hand swirled around in the bowl of anal plugs.
Oh, he did understand.
Ah, just what she was looking for. Silicone, 4 inches, the perfect size for beginners. And it was purple, too! Thank you, M.
“I don't want to do this”, did he protest while she squirted a generous amount of lube on the anal plug.
“Molly, please”, did he beg as she spread his legs and knelt between them. Her heart was racing while she let one hand slide up his inner thigh. Sherlock's body was tense and his chest was heaving, his fingers digging into the leather of his chair. He was clearly uncomfortable now, and damn, it turned her on so much. She felt the heat between her legs, her juices flowing and soiling her inner thighs. Never in her life had she been this aroused from just the thought of what she was about to do.
Watching his face closely, she put on a provided rubber glove. It snapped against her wrist; and Sherlock closed his legs, trapping her between them, squishing her breast. She cried out. His legs snapped open.
“Sorry. I'm sorry. I panicked...are you okay?”
Molly robbed back and placed a hand over her poor breast.
Curse him, she thought bitterly and threw him a glare he couldn't see.
Whiny little drama queen he was. That's what she got for wanting to expand his horizon.
“Molly. Tell me if you are hurt. The game is over. Say something.”
Oh, now the game was over?
Since when was this his decision?
Who did he think he was?
Fueled with anger, she stood up, flinching when the butt plug reminded her in the most pleasurable way that he was still there.
“Untie me, Molly.”
Oh, that man. Chickening out was so not like him. And she surely wouldn't let him. Digging her nails into his knee caps, Molly spread his legs open as wide as she could. With a slap on each inner thigh she told him to keep them that way.
He gulped and tried to convince her to untie him while she grabbed her utensils and knelt down again.
The bottle made an obnoxious noise when it squirted the lube onto her gloved index finger.
“Molly, I told you I-”
The words got stuck in his throat when she curled her hand around his cock.
“-don't want to do this”, he puffed out and his head fell back.
His cock was so hot. The lovely thing pulsated in her hand, begging her to stroke it. Despite having a tight grasp on it, she didn't do anything, though. Still, Sherlock panted and squirmed in his seat.
Within a minute his entire body was desperate to be touched. Just how she wanted it to be.
She let go of his cock – him complaining with the cutest of high-pitched noises – and lightly tapped on the insides of his thigh. He needed a second, then he pressed his lips together and shook his head.
Foolish boy, still thinking he had a say in this. It was her birthday and he was her plaything. It was about time he accepted it.
She tapped again. Still he wouldn't obey. Letting out an unnerved sigh she grabbed the riding crop.
Sherlock jumped and cursed in his seat when she slapped the inside of his left thigh. She could see him bracing himself for the next hit, so instead she let the cool leather tongue slide up and down his hot, throbbing length.
“Jesus”, did he pant and dug his nails into his chair, the leather crunching.
A wicked grin adorned Molly's face before she quickly slapped the right inside of his thigh. His reaction was even funnier now. She giggled on purpose, humiliating him some more.
“Stop this!” he hissed and pulled at the ties around his wrists.
She tapped his thigh with the leather tongue, ordering him again.
They continued this charade for longer than Molly found funny. She was very upset by his disobedience now. Her naughty mood was ruined. With one last, firm slap on his thigh she rose to her feet, tossing the riding crop on the table. She walked to the couch and carefully sat down. The anal plug was still inside her and she had to shift around a bit to find a position that was enjoyable. Molly closed her eyes and blocked out the tied consulting detective completely. He was moping, anyway.
Well, so was she.
But she was in the right!
All the pleasures he denied himself...
Hmm. Oh yes.
A shiver ran down her spine.
Ah, butt plugs. How she loved them. On a few occasions, she had even worn them to work. Sometimes, when the man she was ignoring was present. That had felt so fantastic. Naughty. Devilish. Back then she had wondered what he would have said if he had known. Now she knew that he liked them, too...inside her. Well, if he wouldn't be such a stubborn child he'd find out that they felt good inside him, as well.
Idiot.
Idiot, idiot, idiot.
Ah. Oh yes, right there.
Molly placed her feet on the edge of the coffee table and began rolling her hips slowly. Her pussy was hot and wet, her fingers sliding into it effortlessly. She bit her lip as she listened to the noises she made as she masturbated in Sherlock Holmes' flat, in his living room, on his couch. Her eyes observed the tied man by the fire and he blindly stared back at her, his lips parted, his cock still erect, glowing in the light of the fire. The perfect chest was heaving, the large hands squeezing the leather. His sight only fueled her lust, and his tension even more. She let him hear what she did to herself, what she didn't allow him to do. She didn't need him for pleasure. Hell no.
Not long and she came, not holding back her ecstasy. And then it fell quite in 221b Baker Street. Gone was the warmth. Molly felt cold now. Alone. Defeated. She simply never got what she wanted. Why would tonight be any different? She had wanted it all and had pushed him too far. Gosh, so humiliating. And so not her!
Carefully, Molly rose. Before she could leave she had to clean him up. That's the least she could do. Reluctant to approach him she kept her eyes fixed on his wax-covered chest. His cock was in her peripheral view and there was a pang in her heart when she saw it soft. Still, she knelt down next to him. For a moment she hesitated to touch him and her eyes darted to his blindfolded face. He had turned it away from her, and that hurt, too. She wanted to apologize, but her throat felt dry. After being quiet for so long it felt even more wrong to talk.
So, trying to touch him as least as possible, she picked off the lines of black wax, destroying her piece of art with tears in her eyes, her head spinning with everything that had happened and the consequences it would have when the sun rose.
Sherlock didn't move an inch the entire time. His skin felt cool beneath her fingertips, such a contrast from before. Molly's heart ached when she reached his chest, her other hand full of wax already, and gently pulled the black lines entangled in his fair chest hair. So soft. How she would have loved to play with it, run her fingers through it. If only she hadn't ruined this night...
If it hurt him when she pulled the wax off, he didn't let her see. No more pain for her. No more desire. She shook her head and hurried to finish the heartbreaking task. The last piece was the first, the one on his throat, so close to the mole she had come to love throughout the years. With an aching heart she pushed her nail between skin and wax and pulled.
There. No trace of her left on him, apart from several red spots. They would be gone in a day or to, at most. And then there was nothing to remember him of what had happened here. He could forget all this...forget her.
Lowering her eyes Molly dropped the last piece into the pile in her other hand and stared at it for a moment. Her legs were so heavy all of a sudden. She couldn't get up. She didn't want to. She wanted this night to never end. She wanted to rewind half an hour, when Sherlock Holmes wanted nothing more than to be fucked by little, ordinary Molly Hooper.
A sigh escaped her, just a small one. Then she took the effort to rise, the plug making itself once again known. Before she would untie him she had to get this out. And dress. It was great being naked here. In front of him. For him. Her eyes glided over his body, drinking in this magnificent physice. Beautiful. Perfect.
...Not hers.
There was a knot forming in her throat and she looked away, dropping the wax onto the left table. Then she walked into the kitchen to remove her anal plug, unable to do it in front of him, blindfolded or not. It slipped out and she shivered, clutching the sliding door. So bittersweet.
Very aware that he heard her rinse it she hurried, a blush on her cheeks throughout. As soon as she closed the tap, that heavy silence rolled over them again, burying them.
Molly really had to get out of here.
Her bare feet hurried over the carpet, the metal plug clanked loudly as it fell into the bowl, the sound chasing her to the couch (gosh, there was a dark spot on the leather seat. No, no she couldn't clean that up, too. She couldn't breathe). Feeling so bare and exposed she grabbed the first item she could reach, her blouse, and covered herself.
The leather behind her creaked and she froze for a second. Then she hastily pulled her trousers from under her hand bag and the blasted thing fell to the floor with a thud.
"Please..."
Molly flinched and pressed her trousers against her unbuttoned blouse.
"Please don't just put on your clothes and leave. I...I don't think I can come back from that..."
Her lips quivered and she squeezed her eyes shut, desperate not to sob.
"...I'm sorry I disappointed you. I...It was too much."
She nodded and turned around, opening her mouth in an attempt to apologize.
"I've never felt like this before. I've never done this with someone I...with you..."
Her words got stuck in her throat.
"Intimacy...it's scary...but I want to try. I want to give you what you need. Everything."
The trousers slipped through her fingers and she stepped over them, shrugging off her blouse. The shield she had felt she needed two seconds ago was unbearable now. Naked. That's what she should be. Here. Right now. Just like him.
He lifted his head as she stood in front of him and opened his mouth to say more, but Molly couldn't stand the distance one more second.
Sherlock gasped when she straddled him, melting against him as if she'd done it a thousand times. He groaned when her fingers grabbed his locks and pulled his head back onto the backrest. Molly looked down at his face, her free hand caressing his cheek while the other had a strong grip at his hair.
"I'm sorry, Molly," Sherlock repeated, his voice so soft it filled her heart.
He still wanted her. Sherlock Holmes wanted her...
Her eyes fell on his parted full lips. How badly she wanted to kiss him now.
"Please..."
As if he could read her thoughts.
She lowered her face until it their noses touched. Sherlock's ragged breath hit her lips and she parted hers, brushing her nose along his.
Sherlock...
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
...She couldn't. Not tonight. A kiss would mean forever. And even though her soul wanted nothing more...no. Not tonight...So instead she rested her forehead against Sherlock's and lowered her hips. Her eyes fell close, the anticipation taking her breath away. It was the same for him, she could feel it in the tremble of his body. Slowly, oh so torturingly, so heavenly slowly did she roll her hips, feeling his heat on her pubic mound first, feeling him swell so fast, dear Lord. "Molly," Sherlock panted helplessly and pulled at his ties, pressed his forehead against hers, but other than that endured. His heart was drumming against her chest and she let out the slightest of moans when she finally, finally felt his lovely cock. All the way did she let him slide through her wet flesh, shiver after shiver running up her spine, only to glide back down again, just as slowly. The violent shiver rushing through his body made Sherlock moan.After all these years, dear God Her eyes flew open in disbelief. She had to see that he was real, that who she felt and smelled was him and no one else - the only man she had ever truly wanted. Yes. Dear God, it was him. And he was hers. Hers...MineShe rolled her hips with more pressure, claimed him in a way she hadn't thought possible. He was rock hard again and his body was burning. She loved it. Loved how tense he was, how his mouth hung open, his hot ragged breath hitting her face. A few more times did she tease them both like that. Then she pressed down, his throbbing length between her drenched folds. His hips pushed up, he tried to bury himself in her wet heat even more. A sob fell from his lips, so sudden it froze her, but Sherlock was quick to bury his face in her neck. "I need you. Please. Please. I beg you. I need to be inside you or I'll die. Want me. Take me. Love me. Please, Molly. No more. I can't take any more. Please, take me. I'm yours. I'll always be yours. Please, please-"His desperate pants ended with another sob and with an open mouth he groaned against her skin, his teeth and tongue raking over it. With trembling lips Molly wrapped her arms around him and leaned against his chest, let him feel her. Even though he was much fitter than her, she felt incredibly strong in her body right now. He was so soft and yielding beneath her fingers. Gently she hushed him and weaved her fingers through his black curls. His upper body was trembling and she hushed him again. She leaned back and cupped his cheeks. They were wet. It melted her heart. Tenderly she stroked them. He leaned into her touch like a cat; like Toby. Molly smiled and leaned down to press a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. Sherlock didn't try to trick her. He didn't pull at his ties. He didn't beg. He took what she was willing to give him.Such a lovely, obedient boy.One arm holding him tight to her chest where he pressed his face between her breasts with a grateful moan, Molly reached for a condom. She felt his mouth close around her nipple and gasped. While she stroked his hair with one hand, she ripped the condom package open with her teeth and used them to pull it out. She dropped the wrapping onto the table and rested her cheek on top of Sherlock's head, enjoying his mouth, tongue and teeth too much on her nipples. She let him pleasure her until she felt the emptiness inside her, then she gently tugged on his hair. He let go instantly and leaned back. Molly smiled against his cheek so he could feel her appreciation of his obedience. Slowly, she kissed her way down his body one last time. His wet clock slid between her small breasts as she knelt between his spread legs and bit into his belly, right at the top of his pubic hair. Sherlock groaned and his cock bobbed against her throat. She giggled. It really was a needy thing, wasn't it? She would have loved to tease him about it. But since he was being such a good boy, Molly gave in. She leaned back, looking up at Sherlock, saw the begging tension in his body. His lips were tightly pressed together, trying to remain silent and obedient. Molly stroked up and down his thighs as she looked first at his face, then his cock. She could see the veins pumping blood into his shaft, saw the clear pearl on top of his head. Molly's mouth watered. This really was too tempting. "FUCK!"Sherlock flinched hard when she took him in her mouth sudden and fast, her hand wisely pressing down on his hips. The last few inches she took slowly though, unsure if she could take it all. Chanting her name, Sherlock panted heavily, his fingers grabbing the arms of his chair so hard his knuckles were white. When her nose pressed into his coarse hair and she fought against her gag reflex as his head entered her throat, he groaned and his head plopped back onto the backrest. She held him deep, letting her tongue slide over his hot, soft skin. When she tickled the base only with the tip of her tongue, he groaned again. "Molly...oh Molly...your mouth...your sweet mouth...I know I don't deserve it, but thank you. Thank you."She couldn't help but smile at his sweet words. For a moment longer he was allowed to feel her mouth all around him, then she slowly lifted her head, sucking hard. He groaned again and once more when she soundly sucked off the pre-cum leaking from his head. Its heady taste lingered on her tongue as she leaned back and rolled the condom down his shaft. "Oh, Molly", he breathed as she climbed back onto him, "I've waited so long for you. I've dreamed of this moment and now that it's here I can't believe it's real. Take me, Molly. Please. Claim me. I want to be yours more than anything. Molly, my sweet little Molly-"Molly covered his mouth with her hand and looked down at him. Her heart was too full, overflowing with hope and love for this ridiculous man. She couldn't get carried away, she couldn't let him babble on like that. It was only the arousal talking. Men said all kinds of bollocks when they were needy for cunt, Molly knew that. She mustn't hope for more than this night. She wouldn't. After all these years of yearning and pining for Sherlock Holmes, the moment was finally here. Biting her bottom lip and releasing his mouth, Molly cupped his cheek with one hand and rested her forehead against his. Then she lowered herself, her other hand sliding between their bodies, taking his aching cock in hand and guiding it to her entrance. Her lips parted and her eyelids fluttered close when the pressure came, when his head stretched her entrance, slowly entering her. She saw his lips tremble as she took him, felt his hot, panting breath against her throat. He let out a high-pitched moan when he was buried in her to the hilt. "Molly...God, Molly..."She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, fighting back tears. He was inside her. She was full of him, so much of him, stretching her so far. She shivered from the sensation. So full, so hard, so right. Sherlock. All of him. Her Sherlock...Molly just sat there for a moment, feeling, smelling, tasting nothing but Sherlock Holmes. Their heartbeats were beating in sync, their breaths were hot and fast on each other's skin. This, this is how were are supposed to be, together, close, flesh against flesh, heart against heartEventually, her hips started to roll on their own volition. With a tight hold on the hair in the nape of his neck she gently started riding him, clenching her muscles, pulling, squeezing, driving him mad with want, making him feel what he had denied himself all this time. And, oh did he ever. Never had she heard him utter such sounds as were filling her ears now, never had he felt and looked so exquisitely soft and lost in pleasure. Cases can't compare to this, hm? Molly thought with a wicked smile and bit into his throat, sucked hard until he groaned and his hips buckled. She knew she could leave a visible mark on his pale skin if she didn't stop now.She didn't stop. Sherlock groaned again, angling his head so she got even better access."Fuck", did he moan, the word drawled out in a long breath. "I'm so close already, Molly. Please, a little break. I don't want to come yet. I want to please you, my little doe-eyed domina, my sweet mistress."Her hips slowed and he thanked her, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin on her clavicle. As he tenderly caressed her with his mouth, Molly's ears were ringing. Domina?Mistress?Molly blushed. Did he think this was what was going on here? She was no domina. Gosh, she probably was farthest away from it as possible. She was small, weak, shy. She's never been dominant in bed, just had...fun. Good old fun, nothing this extreme. She a domina. The mere thought was laughable. After all, it hadn't been her who had tied him to his chair and blindfolded him....Not that she hadn't fantasised about it...A nip at her nipple interrupted her train of thought. Sherlock purred and kissed her breast, pushing his face into her small mound, breathing in soundly. When his tongue circled her nipple, Molly started moving again. Still thoughtful, she kept a steady pace, running her fingers through the black curls she adored so much; she even allowed herself to bury her nose in them. Her plaything purred once more - indeed a lovely sound - and gently sucked at her throat. "More", he pleaded huskily, pushing his hips upwards and his lovely cock slipped even deeper into her. Every thought fled from her mind and, closing her eyes, Molly focused on Sherlock's big, throbbing dick. Sherlock gasped when her muscles squeezed him. His hips jerked up again. Both of them moaned. They lost themselves in each other then, their slow fucking eventually turning into frantic rutting. The leather beneath them creaked and crumbled, most probably sticking to Sherlock's bare arse and back even worse than to Molly's knees and shins. Sherlock tried to keep up with her hasty rhythm, slapping his hips against her, trying to give her more pleasure. His mouth was on every inch of skin he could reach, lips, tongue, teeth - sucking, licking, nipping. Molly encouraged him with high-pitched moans when he sucked hard on her nipple, instantly latching on harder, his teeth sinking into her mound. Yes! Yes!This, oh, this was heaven, sensation after sensation running through her, driving her faster. Clever Sherlock immediately picked up on the tightening walls and her quickening breath."Yes", he grunted against her flesh. "God, Molly, yes. Please, please." With a desperate gasp he sucked on her nipple as hard as he could, pushing up his hips as high as he could, impaling her so she could feel him where she wanted him most. A throaty shout escaped her, coming so hard she saw stars. As her walls milked Sherlock's cock he threw his head back against the rest of his chair, groaning and pushing and begging to a deity. His fingers were clawed into the leather of the armrests as he was panting, struggling so very hard to keep it together. Molly watched him as she was riding the heavenly waves of ecstasy, hands on either side of his head. Every muscle in his upper body flexed uncontrollably, his pectorals, the biceps, the abdominals. Sweat had glued his chest hair to his skin, his throat was glistening, as well. He had no right to be so beautiful in his agony. Tenderly, Molly leaned forward and licked the sweat off his throat, starting from the little dip between his clavicles all the way up to his chin, which she trapped with her mouth and teeth to suck on it. "Stop, stop", he whispered faintly, his voice so adorably thin and begging, "I'm too close. I can't hold it...please..."Molly let go of him, leaned back and pressed his ass deep into the leather, stilling his jerking hips. Ignoring the high-pitched moan, Molly closed her eyes and focused on the feel of his cock so deep inside her. It was throbbing, pulsating, lovely thing, begging her to let it come and for a second Molly wished there was no condom separating them. She wanted flesh against flesh, wanted to feel him ejaculate inside her, so much, so deep, impregnating her, claiming her-Molly gasped as another orgasm rolled through her. Digging her nails into his sweaty chest she fell forward as her fanny clenched and made her feel oh so wonderful. "Fuck", Sherlock cursed and groaned, tossing his head from side to side, trying to withhold his release, biting his lip until he broke the skin. Molly saw the drop of blood as he panted and a shiver rolled down her spine. Pressing him into his chair with hand and hips, she watched the little red pearl roll down the swell of his full bottom lip down his chin. Except for his heaving chest and trembling mouth, Sherlock kept very still.He was still inside her, still hard and ready for her. But Molly gave him time. She was truly impressed how well he had been able to withhold his orgasm. It made her wonder how often he had played like this...and with whom....Well, with whom wasn't really the question, was it? A bitter taste on her tongue, blue eyes and ruby lips flashing behind her eyes. The Woman had taught him, Molly was sure of it. Sherlock had been her plaything long ago. For how long...?She looked down at his face, his curls sticking to his forehead, his cheeks flushed, his lips trembling. At first, there was a sadness, so deep and soulgrieving it drove tears to her eyes. She felt all these years of longing for this man mounted up in one, painful heartbeat. Then she felt this love, this time-and-space-crossing love that was woven into her very soul, so deep that not even the most beautiful love sonnet by the best poet in the world could express it. There should be sonnets, poems, songs and movies about her love for him, so this ridiculous man would at least understand, at least get a hint of what she felt for him, how she would do anything to protect him, how she would love and hold and cherish him until every wounded bit of his heart was healed and whole again. She deserved this look of recognition in his eyes after all she had done, all the pain she had endured; for him, only him. If there was never going to be anything else for her, she at least deserved that he acknowledged and respected her love......But no. Not even seven bloody years had made that happen. And yet it had not even took a day to make him fall in love with that woman. THE Woman. The best of them. The only one who counted in his eyes. Molly's teeth flashed and her teary eyes turned darker than the night. Her hand jolted up, grabbing his cheek. Sherlock twitched, and twitched again when her short nails dug into his skin harder and harder, from firm to painful in the span of seconds. She wanted to break his skin. She wanted to make him bleed, like he had made her heart bleed so many, many times. She wanted to open his body and pour her hot love into his cold heart. She wanted to make him suffer like she suffered for him every bloody day. So many days wasted, apart from each other. Why don't you see me?How is it possible that you cannot feel this love burning in my chest?How can you not feel how much I want you? Need you? Love you?You, stupid, stupid man. Stupid, cold-hearted man.I'm in love with a cold-hearted man.Had Jim cut this heart out of you, it would have been a mere block of ice.His pained groan of her name jolted her out of her desperation. She let go of him instantly, and her eyes widened when she saw nail-shaped cuts in his flushed skin. Pressing the hand which had done this to him to her chest, she leaned back and stared at him. Sherlock groaned as his cock slipped further into her, so hard and begging, still. At least one part of him wanted her, craved her like she craved his heart. His soul might not want her, but his body surely did. His body - the vessel he despised, the mere necessity which contained his mind; the only thing of value to him. Desire, arousal, lust - all but primal instincts he detested, which reduced man and woman to animals. How the mighty has fallen He was nothing more than an animal, after all, with his cock so stiff and his nipples hard, his skin aching for her touch, her kiss, her care. He wanted her, needed her. Gone was the pride, the coldness, the disinterest. He was hers. Only hers. It was the truth, no matter how much he refused to see it. And tonight, she would make him feel this truth... Until he begged for mercy.Molly waited. Observing. Patient. The longer it took for his chest to stop heaving, his lips to stop trembling and his cock to stop throbbing, the stronger she felt. She steeled her heart for what was to come; and when he finally relaxed against the wet leather, she was resolved. Another minute passed in silence, unmoving, still straddling him, still impaled on him. Then, his voice, softened by his body's needs: "Molly? Are you alright?"Her brows furrowed only a second. His sudden care and his stupid soft voice wouldn't melt her heart. Instead of giving him assurance, she slowly reached out. Her fingers were shaking as she wound them around his throat, right below his jaw, fingers on his pulse.
Mine
Her little fingers looked so tiny in comparison to his strong neck and head. But they were strong. She would show him how strong; by applying pressure. Slowly. Mercilessly. Until he let out a gasp. Knowing that his wind pipes were affected now, she rolled her hips. Slow. Powerful. His body tensed. He gasped. "Molly."He was confused, she could hear it in his voice. It was insulting somehow, even though Molly knew he couldn't know...then again, he seemed to know everything else.He must know. There were moments. Tiny. Fleeting. But she had seen it in his eyes. He knew. MineShe rolled her hips again, her grasp on his throat firm and secure. The cock inside her twitched. YesWith slow movements she rode him, her thighs strong and tight against his hips, sending the same message her hand did. MineOnly mineThe bonds around his wrists groaned when he pulled at them. His head jerked. His lips parted, made no sound. But she understood. He was struggling, fighting. "Stop", he whispered, turning his head away. Yet his cock grew harder and he moaned when she squeezed him firmly with her muscles. Molly pulled his face back to her so his blind eyes would focus on her. She pressed her hips down, took him in as deep as she could, clenched around him, hot, wet, so tight. Sherlock let out a gasp and his head snapped up. A visible shiver ran down his body and once again he pulled at his bonds, like a wild horse trying to throw off his first rider, unwilling, frightened - desperately not wanting to be tamed. Her small hand pushed his head back against the chair. Feel me, she told him with every roll of her hips. You always thought me small and weak. Now you begin to understand that you were wrong. I am strong.I have power. So much power. The power of a woman. Over a man. You are a man. Nothing but a man, no matter how much you try to fight it. Pathetic. Weak. Unable to control your lust. In the end, you are a slave. Just like all the others. A slave to your own instincts. ...A slave to my cunt. You need me. Without me, you will burn, your own lust consuming you until there is nothing left of that beautiful mind. You need my strength. My power. My power as a woman.
You want my tenderness more than anything.
My care.
My love.
You need me to love you.
You need it to feel warm.
Whole.
Complete.
...At peace.
Sherlock pulled at his bonds again. She was still riding him, sitting strong and tall on top of him, feeling like an ancient goddess more than a woman. His need for her, which she could see in his body and feel between her legs, empowered her.A few more drawn out movements of her hips and his body relaxed all of a sudden. Sherlock gave up fighting, letting out a shaking gasp. Out of the corners of her eyes she could see how his hands reached out for her, his long fingers trying to touch her skin. She would not allow it. She decided where they touched. He was hers. When he whispered her name once more, he sounded so lost and frightened that it almost broke her slow but controlled rhythm. No You will not soften my heart now. You will be mine, Sherlock HolmesYou will feel what it's like to love, to need, to crave with your very soul MineMineMineI claim you, she said with every roll of her hips. You are mine, she told him with with every clench of her inner muscles. ...And he understood.Sherlock's mouth hung open, his lips were trembling, his chest heaving. His blind eyes were staring up at her, his body arched towards her, begging for her touch. And his cock...his lovely cock was hard and throbbing, filling her, stretching her oh so nicely.Molly fucked him to the verge of his release, but then slowed down. Again. And again. Over and over did she do this to him, let him feel the agony in lust and unfulfilled desire; until his entire world narrowed down to her. To her firm hold on his throat. To her strong thighs and her rolling hips, fully in control. To her tight, wet cunt, so hot, muscles squeezing him; telling him he was safe. So safe with her. So safe.She was the only one who could release him, end this pain inside him. His pulse was hammering against her fingers, his neck muscles straining when his jaw clenched or he panted. The pale skin was glistening with sweat by now as well as her own. It made the sounds of their lovemaking wet and squishy. Making loveDespite the circumstances, this was what it was. Unlinke any love she had ever made before. But so good. It felt so bloody fantastic. To be in control. To finally make him feel what it's like to be completely, and utterly-"Molly!"His bonds ached as he panted her name over and over again. His cheeks, neck and chest flushed within seconds as he entered a state. Molly felt it and she pressed her free hand onto his chest; over his heart. I've got you You're safe with meHer name fell from his lips like a prayer. His body was quaking, arching, trembling. He was hers. She could feel it. And it was fantastic. She felt so strong, so powerful. So desired. Sherlock Holmes needed her. Her, little, unimportant Molly Hooper.Molly leaned forward, let her breath hit his face and mingle with his. He lifted his head, begging for her kiss with trembling lips, but the hand on his chest pushed him back down and she stared at his blindfolded face until he was on the verge again. The heat of his body was radiating against hers, warming her. "Molly", he breathed, barely audible. His body was tense. She felt his cock swell and throb in her cunt, begging to finally, finally be allowed to spill his seed. ...Her seed. Only for her..."Molly, Molly...my Molly..."Her heartbeat stuttered. His voice was so soft. Yes, Sherlock. I'm yours. I've always been yours. Digging her nails into his chest and tightening the grip on his hair, Molly lowered herself to his ear, her lips brushing over the shell as she finally spoke the first words in this extraordinary night: "My Sherlock."A shudder and then, then Molly watched the cool, aloof Sherlock Holmes come undone.With a panting shout his entire body stiffened and for a split second she regretted that she could not feel how he filled her up with his cum. Molly watched him, overcome with tenderness, feeling so blessed that she was allowed to witness this very intimate moment of bliss. Smiling and squeezing his cock with her inner muscles, she caressed his cheeks with both hands, her arse heavy on his hips, his cock buried deep inside her. Finally, Sherlock let out a shaky breath, his bottom lip trembled......and then he wept. For a moment, Molly jerked back, pulling her hands away from him. But then she saw his body shake and then she hugged him tight, showering his neck and wet cheeks with tender kisses. Sherlock buried his face in her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin and hair as if it was more important for his body than oxygen. His body was shaking more and more, he sobbed so loudly, cried so bitterly. Molly hushed him, gently stroking his hair, not knowing what else to do. What was happening to him? Was it the climax? The relief after such long suffering? Molly felt horrible, her arms tightly wrapped around the soft, hot body. This was her fault. She had gotten carried away, her own desires and frustration driving her to this. Gone was the feeling of strength and power. Now shame rose like vomit in her throat, tasting foul and bitter on her tongue. While Sherlock shed crocodile tears, she was frozen to the spot, didn't dare to move, nor speak. What could she say that would help? That she was sorry? Feeling his hot skin and sweaty forehead, listening to his loud sobs, the mere thought a simple apology might suffice was ridiculous. Oh God I've ruined this. This night. And infinitely worse, our friendship. As soon as Sherlock'll come to it, he will shout and throw her out of his home and his heart. ForeverHow long did she hold him? How long did he cry? Molly lost track of time. But when Sherlock finally went limp in her arms and let out a deep breath, her neck and chest were wet with tears. She kept holding him, feeling so bloody awkward and ashamed. Biting her bottom lip, she gingerly wove her fingers through his sweaty curls. His head lolled back onto the seat and another breath left his throat. "Molly", Sherlock whispered. Then he passed out.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The door to the lab slammed into the wall. Molly and her three co-workers jumped, one of them dropped a liver, landing on the table with a 'splat'. They all looked at the man bursting into the room, eyes wild, flying over their faces until they found Dr. Hooper. All of them knew Sherlock Holmes well enough by now, but none of them had ever seen him like this. Hair uncombed, a wild mop of greasy black curls. A rough, dark stubble along his jaw and framing his full lips. Instead of wearing one of his impeccable suits he was clad in plaid sweatpants and a worn blue shirt peeking through the open cloak.All three men made sure to get out of the crazy man's way so he could cross the distance to his pathologist - which he did with big, determined steps. "Fifteen Days!" Sherlock shouted, his rich voice ringing in everyone's ears. One co-worker made a step towards Molly in a noble attempt to protect her, but the other two yanked him right back, shaking their heads. The brave male staff of St. Bartholomew's hospital huddled in a corner and watched the scene enfold. "Fifteen days and no call, no text, not anything!"Molly stumbled backwards as Sherlock flew at her like a hawk coming for its prey, bumping into the work station in her back. Her heart started pounding now that he was standing right in front of her. His eyes were wide and wild, his chest heaving. Then his hands darted up as if to grab her, but they froze mid-air. Sherlock's expression became desperate and a second later he grabbed his own hair as if to tear it right out of his skull. "Fifteen days!" he shouted once more. "We have this brilliant, life-changing sex and you just leave! No aftercare, not even a fucking goodbye!"Now Sherlock grabbed her upper arms, towering over her, staring down at her with wide, teary eyes. "Why?!" he hissed. "Why do you claim me if you don't intend to keep me?! Only to throw me away again?! Is this how you take revenge, Molly Hooper?!"He shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut. Letting out a puff of air his shoulders slacked and in shock Molly watched his body start trembling. "It's too cruel, Molly. You know I'm not strong enough...You've seen it all now...You've seen me and I thought...I thought you wanted what you saw.""Sherlock."Molly grabbed his waist as he swayed, tried to steady him. "Molly."Gosh, the tone in his voice made her heart clench and instinctively her hands climbed up his body to cup his face. Sherlock frowned and when he leaned into her touch like a cat, Molly's heart melted. "Come, Sherlock", she said and pulled at the lapel of his coat. It was almost painful how easily she could pull him along, how little resistance there was. Shielding him from the curios looks of her co-workers with an arm around his back, Molly hurried to lead him into her little office. Once inside she locked the door, not really knowing why. Of course they wouldn't follow them in here.After she turned around she found him bent over her desk, taking deep breaths. "Sherlock", she called carefully but when he didn't turn around, she slowly walked over to him. Her cheeks were filling with heat, memories flooding her mind of what they had done...what she had done to him. Biting her lips, she hesitantly reached out and put a hand on his back. He flinched as if she'd hit him with the riding crop. "Do you want me to beg? Is that it? Do you still need more?"Not one word he had said so far made sense to her. It seemed like he was close to a mental breakdown. She wanted to soothe him, tried to come up with the right words to calm him down. But she wasn't fast enough.Sherlock suddenly fell to his knees, slung his arms around her back and buried his face in her belly. Molly gasped. "Please, Molly. Please keep me. I will be good, I swear it. I will be the best pet you ever had. I know I made mistakes, didn't give you what you needed, almost broke us, but I will be better. I want this. I want this so fucking much it's driving me insane. I've always been so afraid of being claimed, never let anyone do it. The Woman almost broke me, almost. But I didn't want to be hers. And then you, God, Molly, you. You."He laughed and sobbed against her blouse, her belly, rubbed his face on it. "My pathologist, my friend...my Molly. Would you believe I didn't know? I was blind, so blind. I didn't see it, not at all...If I had, I would have fallen to your feet in an instant. With more grace. Would have a collar made for you to put on me. Or a riding crop. Yes, much better. Pink. Would that have pleased you, domina?"Sherlock looked up at her, his beautiful eyes rimmed red, their expression young, longing and hopeful."Please keep me. You're the first who ever claimed me. I'm scared. The last fifteen days have been hell. Why did you leave me? It hurt so much to wake up without you, without your arms holding me. I needed your love so much, but you weren't there."Sherlock sobbed, buried his face in her belly and wept, his emotions getting the better of him. Her blouse got wet and warm from his tears, the fabric sticking to her skin."Please don't do this again", he begged her, his voice muffled, "I won't survive it a second time. Punish me in any other way, hit me, break my skin, draw my blood. My body is yours. But there has to be aftercare. I need your tenderness as much as I need your strength."A deep, trembling breath, then he looked up at her again, his chin poking into her belly."This is the sub I am. I need much love, Molly. Too much. I've been told several times. I've been looking so long for a domina who could do what you did. The mix between love and pain was just right."Sherlock smiled for a second before he nuzzled her belly again. "Fuck, it was perfect. It has never felt this good, Molly. No one could do what you have done. You broke me into a million pieces."Sherlock let out a moan and his body shuddered. "I was free in your arms, so free. Thank you. I didn't get a chance to thank you for this night. Thank you. Thank you."The blue in his eyes was so incredibly soft it made her heartbeat stop for a second and she couldn't help but let her fingers run through his curls. And Sherlock, Gosh, he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. "Molly", he purred with so much longing. When he opened his eyes, boy, the world just stopped. But it was too much. She didn't understand what was happening. This was not the Sherlock she knew. This man kneeling in front of her...he was the one she had held in her arms, who had cried so bitterly into her neck. She was scared of this man. Because he looked at her like no one had ever looked at her before, with so much need and longing and...and..."Sherlock!" burst it out of her. Her nails dug into the skin of his hands on her back to pull them off of her. With a gasp and a fast beating heart she hurried to the other side of the office, her hands pressed against her chest to shield herself. When she turned around, Sherlock was still kneeling on the floor, his coat covering his calves. His eyes were wide; they were filled with tears. "Sherlock, I...I don't understand what's happening."Molly grabbed her sweater, tried to calm herself by rubbing the soft, colourful wool. "What happened that night...that wasn't me."Sherlock frowned, his full lips pressed into a thin line. "I-I mean of course it was me, bu-but what we did...what I did to you...", she shook her head, staring at the floor, all those wonderful memories passing in front of her eyes. She shook her head again. "This was not my idea, Sherlock. The items, you tied to the chair. I had nothing to do with that. That was all M. I got a text from you saying you were about to shoot up, so I came and there you were...I didn't plan any of this.""I know", Sherlock said, "Mary told me it was her idea before she left.""Mary?!"M was Mary?! What the heck?!"Yes. She stopped by for a 'casual visit' as she called it, asked me what I got you for your birthday and when I replied nothing she chloroformed me. I woke up in the chair, blindfolded and tied up, where Mary scolded me for bloody ten minutes for not seeing how perfect you are for me. Normally I would get her back for this, but...well..."And there he smiled, this beautiful hopeful smile that made her heart skip a beat. "She was right," he shrugged and actually chuckled, "of course she was. She saw me, she saw you and somehow knew...before we did. That woman..."Sherlock shook his head with a smirk, looking at Molly as if he expected her to join in on this private little joke. But Molly didn't find any of this funny. This was all a big misunderstanding. She had to make him understand. "Sherlock", she started carefully, taking a deep breath and wringing her hands as she tried to form a clear sentence, "I am no domina."She waited for his reaction. At first, he smirked and rolled his eyes, opened his mouth to say God knows what, but then his brows twitched and the soft ocean of his eyes grew harder. They hurried over her, analyzed. "Yes, you are", he said, but there was doubt in his voice. Gone was the gentle tone of it. Molly slightly shook her head. Another long look, then Sherlock rose to his feet, not letting go of her eyes. There they were, standing on each side of her little office, staring at each other, the truth slowly pushing them apart. With teary eyes Molly watched how Sherlock put his armor back on piece by piece, his stance stiffening, his shoulders squaring, hands hanging by his sides twitching. When his eyes turned into the usual cold steel, Molly felt it. Their friendship was ruined. He would not come back.Blinking two, three times, parting and closing his lips, he simply turned in the end, heading for the door. Molly's insides churned. Everything inside her screamed to not let him go. Everything inside her screamed that he was hers. He belonged with her, always. But none of those screams got past her lips. So she waited and watched and prepared herself for her heart to break for good. Sherlock's hand landed on the door handle, his long fingers curled around it firmly. He didn't open the door. Molly held her breath so long she began to feel dizzy. Why didn't he leave?
Thud
Molly flinched. Sherlock had bumped his forehead against the door. His hand was still holding the handle. Deafening silence. Rapid heartbeat. An exhale of breath.Slowly, he turned around. His jaw clenched, he was staring at the floor. His bottom lip trembled. His eyes squeezed shut for a second. A few deep breaths. Then he rose his eyes to her. Molly stopped breathing. Her heart pounded harder. Sherlock's beautiful hands shrugged off his coat. Molly's eyes grew wide. They grabbed his old blue shirt and pulled it over his head, letting it fall to the floor. Red spots. So many red spot on his chest and belly. Most of them almost gone. Some of them still blue. Molly averted her eyes. "Look at me."Molly closed her eyes, fighting tears. "Please, Molly. Look at me."Hesitantly, Molly lifted her gaze, her vision blurry. Sherlock's bottom lip trembled. Then in one swift movement, he pulled down his pants, let them fall to the floor and stepped out of them. Molly couldn't breathe. Out of the corners of her eyes she saw black briefs, but her eyes were glued to his. Sherlock's chest rose and fell quickly. For a second there was panic in his eyes, but then he frowned at himself, pressed his lips together and pulled his briefs down, as well. Elegantly as ever he stepped out of his shoes and his underwear. He wasn't wearing socks.Bare and vulnerable he stood in front of her. Molly was breathing as hard as him, frozen to the spot, unable to move, think or look away from his eyes. Never had he looked at her like this. Lastly, Sherlock wiped his throat with his hands, revealing more red and blue to her eyes. Molly flinched at the sight. She had bruised his throat so much he had to cover it with make-up. She had hurt him. She had hurt the man she-"Look at me."Molly she had averted her eyes again. When they returned to him, he looked smaller. His eyes were wet. His lip trembled. Slowly, ever so gently, did his hands begin to wander over all the bruises she had left on his perfect body. "I love them all", he said, his voice merely above a whisper, yet so clear in her heart. "Every single mark you left on my skin. They are mine."Sherlock smiled, so proudly. His voice was so soft. Molly's heart yearned for him. "Every night I stand in front of the mirror and look at them, thinking of you. Thinking...hoping that they mean-"Sherlock's voice broke, he squeezed his eyes shut and bit down on his lip. Taking a shaky breath, his fingers wandered along his throat. Molly felt his skin against her palm, felt his pulse rush beneath her fingertips. When Sherlock opened his eyes, Molly felt like she was back in the chair with him, feeling his warmth all around her. "I want to be yours."It felt like the world stopped spinning. Only for a second, but long enough to change everything. Suddenly, Sherlock shook his head, his hands falling back to his sides. "No," he said and took a confident step forward.And then he knelt down again. "I am yours."Molly stared at him. Sherlock stared right back, determination in his eyes. No hint of a doubt. Only desire and hope and...everything she had ever wanted to see in them. She was scared shitless. Right in front of her was a man Molly didn't know. This side of him was completely foreign to her. How could she be able to give him what he needed? She wasn't the Woman! She had not the first clue about BDSM, except for the tits and bits everyone learned after that book came out and an hour or two on some porn sites. She knew this was not for her. It pained her to see Sherlock's skin bruised like that, she felt ashamed to have done this to him. She wasn't a domina. She was not what he needed. No matter how much she wanted him, it wouldn't be right. She'd never make him happy. And more than anything did she want him to be happy. With that thought filling her heart - and pushing it in front of her like a shield - Molly slowly took a step in his direction. "Sherlock, I...I can't give you what you need.""You have given me so much more already", he countered easily, his eyes gazing at her. "I'm not a dom," she repeated, taking another step. Sherlock smiled. "You don't have to be.""But I thought-""You have been you. You acted on instinct and desire. That's enough. Maybe at one point you'll dive into the material, maybe you won't. There are so many ways to play and every couple has to find their own balance. It's a learning curve, not much different from regular sex.""But that's what I mean! I like regular sex. I'm not...I don't want to have to hurt you to make you like it!"Sherlock smirked. She was standing close now. "Then don't. Like I said, I need lots of love."Molly frowned."So...you like regular sex? Boring, vanilla, missionary coupling?"He actually chuckled now. "Yes."Molly narrowed her eyes at him. "With eye contact and whispered silly nothings and pausing just to gaze at each other?"Once again, he had the nerve to chuckle. "How many times have I begged for your kiss?"Molly sucked in her lips when Sherlock gazed at them hungrily. It made him smile. "What if I only want it like this?"He chuckled again."You won't."Molly's heart skipped a beat. "W-What makes you think that?"A smile bloomed on his mouth, so honest and joyful. "Because I see you now. I see you, Molly. What you are trying to hide, even from yourself. I used to hide it, too. You want to be needed, wanted, cherished. You want to feel strong and confident. You want control...you want someone who is yours and yours alone."MineMolly lowered her eyes. "Don't be afraid," Sherlock said softly, "don't be afraid to claim what I long to give you."A shiver ran down her spine and her eyes flew up to him. "What you want to give me?" she whispered - and only now becoming aware how close she was to him. Sherlock had to tilt his head back to look into her eyes. The artificial light above them shone directly into his eyes and it made them look like a deep, crystal clear spring hidden somewhere on a forgotten island. "All of me", Sherlock whispered, his voice trembling, a tear escaping the clear spring, "I want to give you all of me.""Sherlock", it burst out of her and with a gasp she palmed his face. A shudder ran through them, his eyelids fluttered, but he kept looking at her.How long had she dreamed of this, she thought desperately, feeling the longing of every damned day of the last seven damned years in her bruised heart. How much she had wanted him, all this time, with no hope, him destroying it over and over again. And now he knelt before her, saying these things. He didn't understand. He couldn't. He still saw the plain, silly woman with girlish dreams of soap-opera romance. He didn't know love. He couldn't possibly understand how deep these feelings for him went. Staring into his beautiful face, she let her hands slide into his hair, grabbig it tight. Tears were blurring her vision. "I want your soul, Sherlock. I want you to need me so much it drives you insane to be away from me. I want you to love me more than your own life, more than John, more than Mary. I want to be the only one in your heart...your cold, stupid heart."Tears were rolling down her cheeks. "I want you to feel my pain. I want you to suffer as much as I did ever since I met you, as I still do, every minute of every fucking day that I have to be without you. It hurts so much, Sherlock. You'll never understand this feeling of not being wanted, of not being loved in return. So long have I waited, so long have I prayed and hoped that someday you will love me back."A sob broke out of her. She was tearing at his hair, tilting his head back as far as possible. "You will never understand how much I love you, what I would do to keep you safe. I would kill for you, I would die for you. Every fibre of my being tells me you are mine, that we belong together, that we've always belonged together."Her voice broke, her heart being torn apart as the feelings poured out of her. "How dare you", she hissed and grabbed his chin with one hand, her pain and fear turning into this terrifying rage again, "how dare you come here and offer yourself if you don't even understand what that means. Go find someone else to slap and fuck you, Sherlock Holmes. Go back to your Woman. You don't deserve me. You never will!"She shoved him away as hard as he could. With a groan he fell back on his arse. Molly stepped back, panting and wiping her stupid tears off her red cheeks. "Get out! And don't come back!""Molly-""Get out!"Her scream broke into a sob and she covered her face with her hands. All the misery was pouring out of her and she just couldn't. She couldn't go on. Her heart was breaking, she could feel it, literally feel it rip and bleed and die right here in her chest. And she feared she might die right with it. "Molly!"His bare arms tried to wrap around her, to hold her. She wouldn't survive it. She wouldn't survive his friendly comfort now. She refused to let him fool her one more time. "No", she hissed and pushed him away. Sherlock pushed back, his hands trying to hold on to her. They struggled, she pushed and shoved and scratched his bare skin, but he just wouldn't stop reaching out for her. "Fuck off", she breathed, her nails digging into his chest, her arms pushing with all her might as he pulled her in his embrace. He didn't let go. He didn't let go."I love you", he whispered urgently as he fought desperately. "I love you!"He shoved her against her filing cabinet, the metallic clank droning in her ears. His hot breath hit her face and she turned her head away, pushing, fighting. "You don't know what love is", she spat angrily. He pressed his vulnerable, naked body against her, trapping her. One hand grabbed her ponytail and pulled. Molly groaned as he forced her to expose her throat.Sherlock thrust his hips against her and latched onto her neck, sucking her sensitive skin deep into his mouth. A rush of pleasure in the mids of agony. "No", she protested, her angled head making it difficult to speak. His tongue licked up her throat, his stubbled chin scratching her skin, then he sucked at her earlobe. Molly whimpered and scratched down his chest, as hard as she could. Sherlock groaned into her ear and she pushed, but he wouldn't let her go. "I love you", he panted against her cheek, palming the other, pressing her against the filing cabinet once more, trapping her hands between their bodies. "I need you. I can't go on without you. I'm yours, Molly, yours. Only yours. Forever. Please. I love you so fucking much. I'm so scared, Molly. Please, please. Love me. Love me!"Molly sobbed and shook her head. "You'll never be mine", she whispered, her strength leaving her, yet she kept on struggling as good she could. It felt like fighting for her soul. Her sanity. This was too much. Too intense. He didn't understand. "I am. Always, always! Molly, Molly."His lips were wet as they pressed against her cheek, her forehead, her chin, the corner of her mouth. The sound of fabric tearing made her squeal. Desperately she tried to stop him, buried her short nails in the back of his hands as he hastily fumbled with the button and zipper of her trousers beneath her torn blouse. Again she protested, but it only made him more urgent, made him pant her name and swear his love against her skin.Molly was sweating and crying, the muscles in her arms burning, her fingers aching. She tore at his hair, but it seemed like he didn't even feel that.Like a man possessed he yanked down her trousers and knickers and then- Molly groaned and flinched as his hot mouth pressed against her, his tongue snaking between her folds, searching, finding her clit. A sob burst out of her throat as her body was licked to life against her will. "No", she panted and gathering her last bit of strength, she yanked at his hair. But the hands on her arse were like steel and as Sherlock fell back, he took Molly with him. The landing was quite painful on her knees and wrists, but her groan was ignored. Sherlock was too busy trapping her. Hastily he wound his arms around her from between her thighs, spreading her open, his hands pressing against her abdomen, locking her in place. It was so bloody uncomfortable, her legs in a weird angle since her ankles were still trapped in the trousers on his chest. But Sherlock, curse him, he tongue-fucked her into submission. Still bent over and supporting herself on her hands and knees she looked down her body, watched his head move, saw his tongue dance through her folds before it snaked back into her hole. The wet sounds of her fanny droned out Molly's heavy breathing. Her legs started twitching. Why? Why did it have to feel so good?!Why wasn't she stronger?!Why couldn't she stop loving him?!!As soon as Molly relaxed in his arms, Sherlock eased his grip on her and he pressed his face against her wet slit for a long moment, breathing in soundly. "I love you", he whispered against her drenched lips, "I know I don't deserve it, but I will do anything, anything", he emphasized and sucked on her outer lip, "to become worthy. Just a little leap of faith, Molly. Please. Don't keep me away. I can't go on without you. I can't. I need you. I love you...", he pressed his face against her thigh, rubbing his cheek on her inner thigh, "I am yours. All of me. Body and soul. I'm not scared anymore. I've never been happier than in that night, in your arms, shattering to pieces under your touch."Now he tilted his head back, his stardust eyes finding hers. Molly's breath got stuck in her throat. His eyes, ever soft, so open, so vulnerable..."I finally belong, Molly. I know it in my heart. It's you or no one. I'm yours. Forever..."He nuzzled her thigh again, his eyes closed, a blissful smile on his face. The gesture was so gentle and admiring. It took her breath away. "I want to make you come. I want to serve you. Please, please let me. My love. My heart...my domina."She wanted to protest, but she was weak, so weak. Having Sherlock Holmes between her legs made her weak. His tongue was snaking up her thigh and before she could think her hand was in his hair and with a vial grip she pressed his mouth against her cunt, needing him with every fibre of her being. With a groan that vibrated through her fanny Sherlock dug his nails into her hips and lapped at her like a dog. Wonderful. So fucking good. Her entire body was shaking, hunched over, one hand pressed to the linoleum floor, one hand in his curls. Biting her lip, she pulled him closer to her hot flesh and began rubbing herself on his lovely, lovely face. Instead of being mad about being used like this, Sherlock hummed and relaxed his neck. "Sherlock", Molly panted, the weight of his head sending a shiver down her spine. She bit into her upper arm and shut her eyes - and really used his face. Fuck, yes. She started rolling her hips and when his long tongue slipped back into her hole, Molly forgot every argument she had made against this. Her eyes darted down and watched herself rub her pussy on Sherlock Holmes' face, feeling his long hands gently stroke her belly before he pulled at the skin of her abdomen, opening her up to him even more. "Yes, yes. Sherlock!"His nose was pushing against her clit, his tongue fucking her fast and deep. Just a bit more, a bit more. My Sherlock. Mine.
Mine!
With a high-pitched squeal she came, her entire body twitching and shuddering with ecstasy. Molly pressed his face against her as bliss washed over her, made her see white light behind closed eyelids. If it only could last forever. But reality came rushing back too soon. Feeling boneless and exhausted, she let go of him and awkwardly climbed off of him, rolling onto her back. With her clothes torn and her trousers and knickers dangling from her ankles, Molly lay on the linoleum floor of her office and stared up at the white ceiling, the artifical light harsh on her eyes. So she closed them, shutting out everything, even the man she loved, the man who had pleasured her with such adoration it made her heart ache.Could she trust this? Did he speak the truth? It just sounded all so ridiculous. He had ignored her for years, then one night of admittedly the best sex ever and now she suddenly was the love of his life?!No, it couldn't be real. Sherlock was simply being emotional. It would pass. She'd known him long enough to know that eventually, every experiment bored him. And what else would this be?Molly could feel his presence next to her. A part of her wished he would just leave. A part of her couldn't bear the thought. Another part of her wanted to take him in her arms and never let go. Swallowing down a sigh, she faced the inevitable and opened her eyes.The sight of him tore at her heart. Sherlock was lying rolled up in a fetal position, hands under his head, knees bent and drawn to his chest. Naked. Looking at her with eyes as soft as the clear water of a lagoon in the sunlight. While she had calmed herself, he must have wiped her fluids off of his face. There was only a sheer shimmer on his full bottom lip. Those heavenly lips. Lips pulled into a serene smile. Lips she longed to kiss.Tears welled up in her eyes."I want you to make love to me, Sherlock. So sweet and tender it makes me cry."The bluegreen eyes lit up and he unfolded himself. His cock was still hard for her. Never letting go of her eyes he closed any distance between them. When he rested half his upper body on her, the first tear fell. "You're already crying", he said softly and caught the pearl of salt water with his thumb, brushing it away. Molly watched him as he stroked her temple and cheekbone, the expression on his face so new. Never had she seen it so serene...so at peace. "May I kiss you?"His voice trembled. Molly shook her head, bottom lip quivering. His brows furrowed, he averted his eyes, but nodded.Instead of her lips, Sherlock placed kiss after kiss on her throat, her clavicle , the valley between her breasts. Every time his mouth lingered, savouring the contact, the scent and texture of her skin. Slowly but with sure movements Sherlock undressed her, placing kisses on every patch of skin he uncovered. By the time he pulled the second trouser leg down her ankle and foot, Molly's heart was singing his name and her skin was tingling. His eyes found hers as he rolled on top of her, between her legs, his hand curling around her thigh and spreading her open for his hips. He didn't need a hand to guide him, the head of his cock found her entrance almost immediately. Pushing himself up with his legs and arms, Sherlock entered her slowly, until all of him was inside his Molly. His eyelids fluttered close and his lips parted. A visible shiver ran through him and for a moment he was frozen on top of her. When he opened his eyes, they were wet. "Molly", he sighed, his eyes filled with awe and wonder and...dare she believe it...love.His large warm hands cupped her cheeks, his fingers gently stroked her hair and his thumbs her cheekbones as he gently, ever so gently, began to move his hips. His weight on top of her was heaven. The way his cock slowly opened her again and again, filled her to the hilt, rested a moment to let her feel him pulse inside her, was somehow...soothing. After the tumult and emotional storm she needed this more than anything. Not just a tongue fucking her; a man making love to her. And making love it was. If not for the physical tenderness, the tenderness in his eyes would have made her see it. Tears were blurring her vision again.God, he looked so happy. So very happy. A serene smile was tugging on his lips, his hands never stopped caressing her. His full lips were parted, a curl was falling in his eyes. "Please hold me", he whispered. Another tear escaped her lashes, was caught by his thumb. "Please, my love."Molly was lying beneath him, her legs spread wide, her arms lying on the floor next to her head. "I need you."Sherlock pushed in deep and held still, his eyes gleaming. "I love you."Hope, bright and burning, exploding in her chest. Molly's bottom lip trembled. So did Sherlock's. "Please never leave me again", he begged her, his voice trembling. As a crododile tear rolled down his cheek he buried his face in her neck, the full lips quivering against her skin. "Please hold me...and never let go. Please, Molly."A sob burst out of him, just as shocking and heartbreaking as in that night in his chair. Something in Molly broke in that moment. Such a fear gripped her heart; to hurt him, to lose him, to not be enough. The way Sherlock clung to her woke this overwhelming instinct...to protect what was hers.
Mine
Her heart sang this word, she could hear it in her soul. He was hers.Before she knew what she was doing and with a strength she didn't know she had, Molly flipped them over. Bless that one self-defense class she had taken years ago. While Sherlock blinked, confused and disoriented for a second, Molly sat up, one hand pressed against his chest, fingers fanned out, nails digging into his skin.
Mine
"I want forever, Sherlock", she announced, her voice firm and steady despite her wet cheeks. "Me too", he panted, his hands curling around her thighs, stroking up her body to cup her lovely breasts, wet eyes full of love and admiration. Index fingers and thumbs gently pinched her nipples. Molly bit her lip and rolled her hips. Sherlock gasped, his eyelids fluttered."Then marry me."The fingers on her breasts stilled. With a pounding heart Molly watched Sherlock's eyes go wide. Understandibly, he looked surprised at her demand, if not shocked. But so was she. She hadn't planned to say it. The thought hadn't formed in her head, it had just burst out of her, not even in a sweet, tender voice. It had sounded like a challenge, a dare, a demand - the ultimate test of his devotion.Sherlock Holmes was married to his work. There was no way in hell-"Yes", he panted, a smile blossoming on his handsome face which became blinding within seconds. With a half-laugh, half-sob, he shot up and wrapped his arms around her. Burying his head between her breasts he laughed and sobbed some more, rubbing his face on her hot little mounds. "I'm yours", he laughed, "I'll always be yours."Now he looked up, cheeks wet and eyes red, but so full of love and happiness Molly could barely stand looking at them. There was fear in her heart again, this year-long fear of being alone, of loving and not be loved in return. As if he could read her thoughts Sherlock's smile died. With a gasp he grabbed her hair and pressed her against him. "No. You will not take it back. You claimed me. You love me! You said it! Say it! Say it, Molly! I'm yours! Say it!!"His body was shaking, more tears filling his eyes, his expression desperate and angry. That's when she grabbed him, once again her instincts acting before her mind could. Tilting back his head with a rough pull on his hair, she looked down at him. They stared at each other for a long moment.
Mine
"You're mine."With that, Molly Hooper claimed Sherlock Holmes.Instantly his grip on her losened, became tender. He exhaled slowly and blinked away his tears. "I'm yours."It was ridiculous, but to Molly it felt like they had just spoken the words of an old heathen ritual, binding their souls together. Something deep inside her came to rest all of a sudden. Having him inside her and looking into his eyes somehow finally made her believe that this was real. That Sherlock's feelings were true. That he wouldn't break her heart again. "Say it", she whispered and tugged on his hair."I love you", he answered without hesitation, knowing exactly what she needed to hear. "I love you, Molly Hooper."A shiver down her spine like warm summer rain, soothing and healing. A smile was tugging on her lips and she caressed his hot cheek with her fingers. "My Sherlock."He closed his eyes. "My Molly."Her heart skipped a beat. When he opened his eyes, they smiled at each other. Then Molly focused her attention on his mouth. Sherlock gasped. Molly could feel his heart start drumming against his chest as she slowly bent down to him. He tilted his head back and gasped again when her nose nudged his.Her eager little Sherlock. Three weeks ago she'd never thought he would ever crave her kiss like he was so obviously doing now. Tenderly she enfolded him in her arms and he melted against her, eyes glazed over.Finally, after so many years of longing, Molly kissed the man she loved, claiming him the way Sherlock had begged her to claim fifteen days ago. Mine All mine "Mine", she whispered against his lips. "Yours", he whispered back and parted his lips, waiting, begging with the softest little noise she had ever heard. Molly couldn't help but smile. She combed her fingers through his hair, made him open his eyes. He smiled back and nudged her nose with his. "Kiss me, Molly Holmes."Her heart skipped a beat. Cheeky monkey. With a giggle, she tugged at his locks, made him gasp. "Say please, Sherlock Hooper."His arms pulled her tight against him. "Please, dearest wife."God, that dear man. "Who are you?" she couldn't help but ask, full of wonder, the man in her arms so very beautiful, so very warm, so very soft. "Yours", he stated in a tone that melted her heart. She simply had to kiss him now. So she did, parting her lips and slipping her tongue into his mouth where she stroked his in a tender, sensual greeting. Sherlock sighed and licked hers lovingly and Molly found that her taste lingered on his tongue. "Is this what you want, my sweet prince?" Molly purred, just so bloody happy, and began rolling her hip. Sherlock gasped and his eyes widened. Then he smiled, a smile as bright as the sun. "You gave me a pet name", he whispered. "Well, you are my pet, aren't you?" With a nod he buried his face in the crook of her neck. "Yes. Only yours. Forever.""Forever", she confirmed and stroked his hair as she made love to him, gentle and sweet, kissing his temple and cheekbone, holding him tight, taking him inside her as deep as she could with every slow roll of her hips. Never had sex been this tender, she couldn't help but think as she moved, her cheek resting on his head, his mouth kissing the valley between her breasts. They came from just these minimal movements, from the fact that they were finally, finally united, as it was meant to be."I've been so blind", he whispered against her shoulder after they had calmed down. "Forgive me?" He leaned back to look at her. With a smile Molly stroked his cheek and nodded. "I'm so sorry for everything-""Shhh", Molly leaned in and kissed his soft lips, "no more, sweet prince. You have a life time to make it up to me."His mouth followed hers as she began to lean back, captured them for another kiss. "I will. Every day. Every night. Every bloody second.""Good."They shared a long look and Molly saw the determination as well as the regret in his. She hugged him. He swore his love against her skin. "Let's go home, Sherlock. You need a bath and a good night's sleep."They rose, dressing in front of each other, sharing shy and happy glances until they were done. Their feet lead them back into the other's embrace, their mouths found each other for more slow, deep kisses. "Can we stay in bed tomorrow? The whole day? To...celebrate?" Molly blushed, but smiled as she stepped out of his embrace, took his hand and lead him out of her office. "After all we've been through, a day won't possibly enough. I need to have my wicked way with you for at least a week to be able to let you out of my sight again."Sherlock chuckled and hugged her, burying his face in her neck to suck on her skin. "I can't wait", he purred, which made her giggle. As they were riding in the elevator, holding hands, staring at each other's reflection in the polished metal, Molly had a question. "Do you still have the things Mary bought?""Yes."The elevator door opened and she stepped out of it, pulling him along. "Then we have to stop at Baker Street, first."She had barely finished the sentence when she was pushed against the wall of the hallway. Sherlock crowded her, his face close to hers, his eyes bright with excitement."Can I put the plug in you this time?"A pink blush spread on her apple cheeks. After a quick glance around, she pulled him even closer by the lapels of his coat until their mouths were less than an inch apart. "Only if you are a good boy and suck it all wet for me, sweet prince."A visible shiver ran down Sherlock's spine. His lips parted and he let out a shaky breath."I will. I will do anything you want me to. I will be good." His hand came up to stroke her cheek. "I will not disappoint you ever again."Molly leaned into his warm touch and closed her eyes for a moment, cherishing the feeling. "I know.""I love you.""I love you, too."Sherlock exhaled and sank against her. His soft lips were brushing across her forehead, her temple. "I'm so happy, Molly. So fucking happy. My Molly. My sweet domina...My wife."Her heartbeat stuttered and she lifted her head to kiss him, but the sound of footsteps approaching stopped her. "Let's go home", she whispered and pushed him back. With a nod Sherlock took her hand and didn't let go of it until they were in Molly's flat. Molly needed two weeks until her hunger for her future husband was satisfied. Sherlock was covered in red and purple bruises by then, the happiest smile on his face, lounging in her bed like a cat, naked and looking utterly boneless, curled around her body whether he was asleep or awake. By this time, Molly had no doubt that they would be ridiculously happy for the rest of their lives. So, when Sherlock was sleeping after another one of their sessions (Molly really started to enjoy experimenting with this dom/sub thing), she snapped a picture of how he was sleeping with his head in her lap, his mop of curls in wild disarray, his full lips parted and a bare arm with scratch marks loosely draped over her waist. She sent it to Mary.
Is this what you had in mind, "M"?
She didn't wait long for a response.
Yes. You two are idiots. You know that, right?
Yeah.
Good.
Thank you, Mary.
Stop. Name your firstborn after me and we're even.
Molly laughed.
What if it's a boy?
Then we'll call him Gregory, just to see if Sherlock can remember the name then.
Greg would love that, for sure.
Yeah.
Thank you, Mary. Truly. I'm so happy I'm afraid my heart will burst any second. I love you.
Love you, too. Now leave me alone and go shag your pet.
Mary, how did you know? That I am into this? I didn't know!
It's my superpower.
Mary
Dunno. Just a hunch. The way you looked at him. The hunger in your eyes. Something like that.
Great, now I've got "Hungry eyes" stuck in my head.
...and you've just infected me. Thanks.
You're welcome
Humming the song, Molly put her mobile away and ran her fingers through Sherlock's hair, smiling like the fool in love she was.