Disclaimer: I, of course, do not own Sherlock or any of the characters.
It's close to midnight when Sherlock visits Molly at the path lab. She's working the night shift and no one will be around. A perfect time to ask her a question he's been meaning to for far too long.
"Molly," said Sherlock as she began to bend to peer into the microscope. "Have dinner with me tomorrow night."
Molly jerked upright in surprise. She looked at him for a few moments in shock and then closed her eyes, gathering her inner strength and willing herself not to stutter.
That's okay Sherlock," she said. "I know you're only asking because you think I still have a crush on you. I know you don't really fancy me and I'm over my silly infatuation. So don't worry about it."
Though not true in the strictest sense, Molly wanted to be over her crush on Sherlock and she hoped that by saying it out loud, right to the object of her un-returned love, it would make it real. She bent to peer into the microscope again.
It was one of the few moments that the great Sherlock Holmes was truly shocked in his life. "I don't fancy...you're over..." he said with a look of bewilderment before it was replace by a look of outrage.
Rushing forward he snatches Molly's wrist in an iron grip and drags her behind as he moves to the door. He's walking so fast Molly has to do a little skip to keep up.
"Sherlock!" She yells, "what the hell are you doing?!"
After locking the door and dragging the curtain down, Sherlock whirls to face Molly, without a word he lets go of her wrist and reaches out with both hands to drag her lab coat off, followed by his own. He drops them in a careless heap on the floor and grabs Molly by her upper arms and marches her to the nearest cleared off lab table. He turns her so she's facing the table and cages her with his body, running his hands down until they press hers flat on the table.
"What I am doing, Molly, is showing you just how wrong you are," says Sherlock, fanning his hot breath over her ear, making her shiver. "Don't you dare move your hands from that spot," he says as he begins to slowly move his hands up her arms.
"Good God woman, do you have any idea what you do to me?" Ask Sherlock, as one hand grips her brown hair, pulled high in a ponytail, while his other hand begins caressing her throat. "All you have to do is look at me and I begin picturing you in fascinating positions. There is no flat surface in this entire fucking lab that I have not imagined us having sex on. The tables, the floor, up against the walls. I have fantasized about you naked and wrapped around me in a million different ways." Sherlock nips at her ear and grinds his hips into her, making her gasp.
"Sh-Sherlock..." Molly stammers out, but Sherlock gives Molly's throat a little squeeze. "Quiet Molly, don't say a word until I'm done explaining," say Sherlock, moving his hands down to begin slowly, slowly unbuttoning her shirt. When the garment hangs free, Sherlock moves his hands up her torso, committing every inch of skin to his memory. She's wearing a low scooped blue lacy bra, the sight of which is causing Sherlock to pant in her ear. He palms her breasts, lifting them free from their confinement, finding they fit in his hands perfectly. He kneads them, rolling her pink nipples in his fingers, making Molly whimper. Her head has fallen back against Sherlock's shoulder, allowing him to cover her neck in kisses.
"I've wanted to do this for ages," says Sherlock, his voice even more husky than usual with desire. "But I convinced myself that my work was more important and I couldn't have both. I realize now that I've been a fool. A relationship with you would be the best thing in my life and that could only help my work, not hinder it."
Molly gasps with surprise again and reaches one hand back to clutch at Sherlock but he grabs her hand and flattens to the table with his own once more. Keeping his mouth on her ear, he takes a small step back from Molly.
"Tsk, tsk, Molly," says Sherlock, "I told you to keep your hands on the table and you haven't listened. Do you need to be punished?" He asks as he gives Molly a quick smack on her ass. Molly's eyes shoot open and gives an involuntary whimper. Sherlock then pushes his leg between hers to draw them farther apart and for one stunning moment Molly is actually riding his leg.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Says Sherlock as he lowers her to her feet and reaches his hands around to begin unbuttoning her trousers. "A firm hand to spank you when you're bad and to give out pleasure when you're a good girl?" Sherlock dips his hand down the front of Molly's matching blue lace panties, cupping her folds. She's so warm and wet. He slips two fingers into her and begins making long, deep passes. Molly's knees go weak and she hysterically wonders if it's possible for a woman to actually drop dead from desire. She's not sure, but she thinks she may be the first case.
"Tell me again how you're 'over' your feelings for me," hisses Sherlock as Molly grinds back against him, as he continues to stroke her. "You're literally dripping with your want for me." Before Molly can even being to feel slightly embarrassed over how true Sherlock's statement is, he's falling to his knees, pulling her trousers and panties down her legs with him. He helps her step out of them and her shoes before reaching up to grab her hips and turn her so she's now facing him.
He flattens her palms to the table top once more. "Keep your hands there," says Sherlock with a raised eyebrow and a quiet authoritative tone. He slowly moves his hands to her inner thighs where he begins tracing patterns, giving her goose bumps until he begins exploring her very core, making her mewl out with pleasure. Sherlock then grips her hips, tilts her sex up to him and begins circling her clit with his tongue. Molly decides she was wrong; this is the moment she's going to die from her desire. Sherlock Holmes is going to kill her with sex.
Her legs begin to tremble as Sherlock alternates between licking her clit and thrusting his tongue inside of her. If it wasn't for his hands strongly cupping her ass, holding her to him like she was the most delicious thing he's ever tasted, she would be collapsed in a puddle on the floor. He can tell she's getting close to coming. He gives her clit one final lick before straightening from his kneeling position, swooping her up in his arms and laying her on the table. Which a quick movement, Sherlock grabs a condom from his pocket and kicks off his shoes, as he pushes his pants and boxers down and onto the floor. He rolls the condom on and in one movement, leaps onto the table and covers Molly's body with his own.
Looking down at her, seeing her flush with her passion for him, it's all Sherlock can do to keep from slamming himself into her this very second. "You're so beautiful," he says to her, his eyes heavy with his own desire. "Please tell me you still want me," his voice is full of longing with a hint of pure desperation underneath.
Molly is completely undone. She never thought any man would want her like this, much less the enigmatic Sherlock Holmes. She can't resist not touching him any longer, she lifts her hands and drags her nails from his ass, all the way up his back and into his hair where she grips his curls and raises her hips to his. "Please, Sherlock," she whispers, "I need you inside me."
With that simple statement, Sherlock swears he can actually hear his control snap. He wraps his arms around her, bringing her a close to him as he possibly can as he sinks his heavy cock into her welcoming pussy in one swift thrust. Molly can't help but cry out as he stretches her completely, taking her within a hair's breath of pain. She encircles his waist with her legs, drawing him deeper and bites his shoulder. Sherlock can't keep back his groans of pleasure as he begins to move inside her. Slowly at first, but then faster and faster and he can no longer keep his want for her in check. He feels her tighten around him and then she's sinking her nails into him, calling his name as she comes. The intensity of her orgasm sends him over the end as he holds her even tighter and gasps out her name.
Afterwards, sweaty and spent, Molly snuggled into his side with her head pillowed on his shoulder and Sherlock on his back, running his fingers through her hair, he presses a kiss to her temple and asks, "So you will go to dinner with me tomorrow?" Molly smiles and while running her hand up and down his chest says "Of course I will, but Sherlock, tomorrow I get to be on top." Sherlock chuckles darkly as he pulls her up for another kiss, "Ah, Molly. I had already planned on that."