Note:
All named persons belong to the BBC and the brilliant Makers Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss.
First to say: I am not a Native-speaker and: Hell, yeah ! This was very difficult for me, so please: be nice and not to stern, be patient and let me know what you think.
I am only (and still) Sherlocked and do not earn any money (no fame or fortune or success ) with this story.
Act 1 : The First Act
She felt like she was part of a dream world – but how could that had happened?
What had gotten into her as she had bombarded him with her motives?
And what the hell had gotten into him as he had agreed to it?
Why won their lust about their feelings?
And why did she feel like a stupid teenager who was going to commit the worst mistake of his life?
The ringing of the doorbell brought her out of her deep thoughts and her heart beat grew faster.
She looked upon herself in the mirror, tried to smile for some encouragement, but failed miserably.
So she slowly opened her damn front door.
They did not speak a single word as she pointed him with a friendly gesture to enter.
He slipped silently out of his coat and hung it to the empty wardrobe, then he turned to face her as she slowly closed the door behind him.
She stared at him for a long moment, uncertain to make the next step.
He nodded in understanding, walked the few steps that separated them up to her, took her face gently in his hands.
Again he looked deep into her eyes, causing her to blush deeply.
A brief smirk crept on his lips and he carefully put some strands of hair behind her ear, let his hand wander down her throat and remained on her neck, his gaze still on her.
She licked her lips nervously and his eyes darkened.
A moment later she found herself pushed against the wall, his body firmly pressed against her own.
Surprised she gasped for air and he used this moment to lower his mouth to hers, his silky tongue immediately pushing between her lips.
She moaned helplessly as his hands also made its way down her thighs, to close around her butt, pressing her soft body stronger against his own.
Clearly she felt his throbbing arousal against her belly and also the welcoming heat between her legs.
When he finally lifted her up, her legs closed automatically around him and he carried her towards the bedroom, their heated kiss not in the least interrupting.
A moment later she lay underneath him, his lips firmly on her neck, teasing, biting and licking.
She groaned and closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling of his mouth.
Then she felt his hands on her waist as she slid under her shirt and caressed her soft skin, before his naughty fingers moved to her breasts to massage them through the fabric of her bra.
Again she moaned and arched against his touch, her hands also did not remain still.
Suddenly one of his hands cupped her small ones, stopping them in her actions to stroke his already very rigid manhood through his tight trousers.
He shook his head mockingly, raising her hands up over her head, pinning her to the bed.
Both hands were clasped in his bigger one and he had them firmly but painless in his grip.
She swallowed hard as she met his passionate gaze and her heart beat loud and fast in her chest, let her tremble slightly.
His grin told her that he knew what was happening to her, that he knew what effect he had on her.
The fucking bastard.
Her thoughts were interrupted as his second hand effortlessly opened the buttons of her jeans to slit under her panties and between her legs.
A light moan escaped her lips and she closed her eyes.
She turned her hips as far as it was possible to his hand and bit her lower lip as she felt his fingers on her female parts.
His fingers moved quickly and forcefully into her, bow slightly in order to penetrate her intensively and she opened her eyes in shock, stunned, as she felt the familiar feeling in her abdomen.
Fast. Too fast.
"Stop!"
It was more a helpless moan than a powerful exclamation she had originally planned and probably that was the reason why he did not stop in his ways and just ignored her.
She wanted to escape him but he held her in an iron grip, his mouth back to hers, his tongue between her lips, imitating the movements of his fingers inside her.
She replied equally, as she also pushed her tongue deeply into his mouth, hearing him gasp softly.
The first sound she heard from him since he had entered her apartment.
How much time had passed? Hours? Or maybe just a few minutes?
Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted when a third finger found its way into her and she could no longer hold back, moaned loudly.
He covered her offered neck with soft kisses and bites.
She noticed how the feeling in her abdomen quickened, how fast it was getting hotter, wetter, between her legs.
Just a few more seconds…
She came with a violence that made her see stars before her eyes.
Loudly she groaned, his name on her lips.
Then his fingers were suddenly gone and she was left empty and cold.
Confused she opened her eyes and watched him.
He stipped himself from his pants and came backto her to free her also completely from her trousers.
His manhood stood proudly, tall and taut, and she swallowed breathlessly.
How beautiful he was.
He threw her jeans somewhere behind him and was promptly back again between her legs, quickly slipping on a condom.
Where did he get this so fast?
She had no idea.
But at the sight of his naked body above her she was suddenly uncertain about the whole situation.
She wondered for a brief moment if what they were actually doing was right.
If the professional relationship they had would not be destroyed by their selfish interlude.
He glanced at her for a moment and saw how she struggled with herself.
His hand cupped her cheek softly, forcing her to look at him.
She swallowed hard as he shook his head and lightly - encouragingly - smiled.
Gently but firmly he took her by the hips and slid - without waiting for further approval - into her, filling her out completely, erasing any further doubts in her mind.
Their both lustful moans rang out simultaneously.
He buried his face in her neck, whispered softly her name and she responded with a loud groan.
She lifted herself up a bit, changing the angle which allowed him to push even deeper into her soft, willing body.
They quickly found a rhythm which pleased them both.
She took his head in her small hands and forced him to look at her, which he did without resistance.
His eyes were full of desire, his gaze burning a deep mark into her soul.
A few seconds later he kissed her open-mouthed, grabbing her harder on her hip, pushing stronger and faster into her.
She gasped loudly and closed her arms around his neck, burying her nails deep into his flesh.
He growled against her mouth and punished her with a hard thrust, but she smiled wickedly against his mouth and kissed him back with the same passion he did a few moments ago.
His body hardened over her, a loud moan escaping his lips as he was looking her in the eyes again.
For a moment both remained motionless in their position, lost in the eyes of one another which were dark with desire and lust.
She never had been this close to him as right in this moment.
Physically and mentally.
It was almost too much.
And it scared her.
Then he slowly picked up his rhythm again.
His right hand made his way between their connection, stroking the sensitive spot which made her finally lose control.
She closed her eyes and begged silently for the long-awaited touch.
They many stimulations let her soon return to the edge of her next peak and she gasped his name again, clinging desperately to him.
"Just let go…"
With the next powerful move her dam broke and she came hard, tightened around him, taking him with her over the edge.
Breathlessly he called her name, also reaching the top.
Automatically he thrust a few more times in her, kissing her until both gasped loudly for air.
He cupped her face in his hands and pressed her lips to his while both remained silent, their bodies still tightly pressed against each other.
His eyes became clearer again and he looked – really looked – at her.
He remained in her for a few more moments, then he slid out and collapsed on the mattress beside her.
The sudden loss of him was nearly painful and she tried not to tremble too much.
The silence was not uncomfortable yet she wanted to say something, had to say something.
Before she could open her mouth he sat up, gabe her a soft glance while shaking his head.
So she remained silent and watched as he rose and walked straight to the bathroom.
A few seconds later she heard the water splashing from her shower.
She got up slowly, looking around uncertainly.
Should she follow him into the shower? Or did he prefer to be left alone now?
He really did not look like the typical cuddly type.
Confused and unable to think clearly she gathered up his clothes and put them on her bed.
Then she did the same with her own clothes.
She shivered slightly, feeling still uncomfortable.
Unsure she made a few steps to the open bathroom door, remained motionless in her doorway.
She took a lot of time to memorize that picture deep within her memory that was unfolding before her.
Who knew when she would be able to have him back - voluntarily naked - in her apartment?
He must have noticed that she was staring at him and turned around.
He carefully opened the glass door and held out a wet hand.
A small smile crept onto her lips as she took his friendly invitation.
The ice-cold water which hit her promptly after stepping in let her cry out loudly and she immediately wanted to leave her shower.
But he grabbed her and laughed briefly, turning her around.
The now warm water which met her skin felt really good.
She sighed blissfully, leaning gently with her eyes closed against the cold shower wall.
She felt his hands on her skin, just a soft touch and so she opened her eyes.
She was met with his dark gaze full of desire which shook her inwardly to the core.
Finally it seemed that her brain would now also switch on again.
She knew who stood right before her.
She knew that she loved this man.
And she knew that he did not - and probably would never - love her back.
There was never ever going to be a common future.
His gaze upon her changed to something completely different.
She thought for one hopeful moment it was understanding or even sympathy.
But as his lips turned down she understood that it was pity.
She felt ill and fled.
Fled from the shower, the bathroom.
Fled from him.
She grabbed her silky robe and slipped outside, towards her kitchen.
She padded the few meters to the sink, grabbed a clean glass and got herself some cold water.
Only now she felt her thoughts gatherin again, racing restlessly in her head.
Pity…
She shook her head in disbelief at herself, the glass in her hand heavy trembling.
She was so incredibly stupid, stupid, stupid!
God, she was an adult, a rational thinking person, wasn't she?
And she had just committed the worst mistake that was to be committed.
Of course she had always dreamed of it, to whom should she be lying?
But dreaming and actually doing it were in the end two completely different things.
So why did she hurt herself by doing it, why did she let it happen?
"See you tomorrow?"
Startled by his deep voice behind her she did not dare to turn around, stiffened.
Those were the first words they exchanged since his arrival and only now she knew indeed that it was not a days dream.
The reality hit her with the force of a sledgehammer and shook her insides.
She did not turn to look at him, wanted not - could not- bear his sights now.
She had to be her bloody happy self while he was still in the room.
Did she want to see him - do it - again?
Hell, yeah.
And should she see him - do it - again - even if it was out of pity?
By God, no.
"Molly?" He was standing right behind her, she could feel it on her skin.
She could feel him.
"Sure." It was only soft-spoken.
You utterly, bloody fool!
"At yours?"
She nodded again and sipped absently at her glass, until it was empty.
As she put it back in the sink she heard the front door close quietly.
He was gone.
She took a deep breath and told herself to calm down, but failed miserably.
Her legs gave away and she sank to the floor, her back against the kitchen counter, her eyes fixed on the wall infront her.
She did not notice the tears that wetted her cheeks.
Her thoughts were too confused, the way of dealing with him from now on still too vague and unclear.
One thing was clear though :
Sherlock Holmes was definitely not the guy to cuddle after sex.
SYS
MajinMicha