Well hi again. I've been fascinated by Irene/Molly so well here you go. This is new to me so I would really appreciate reviews. ^_^ It may or may not be continued it depends on what you guys think.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters and am not affiliated with BBC Sherlock in any form.
Soft fingers brushed through Molly Hooper's hair and hot breathe tickled the back of her neck as her lover stared absentmindedly at the wall. Sometimes Molly wondered why Irene stayed with her. They didn't have a normal relationship if that is what you could call what they had . They weren't a couple. They didn't go on dates or even go out in public together. They slept together, had dinner, and occasionally talked.
Though these talks of theirs usually ended will Molly tied to the bed and Irene using the crop on her. After their mind-blowing sex Molly would be far to exhausted to do anything but fall into a deep and sated sleep. Irene, however, would stay awake for hours afterwords, lost in thought with her fingers lazily trailing through Molly's dark mane of hair. This was something she knew Molly loved.
It had been going on like this for a year. Irene would show up, they would eat, have sex and then Molly would sleep. Though one night Molly was able to fend off sleep and gather enough courage to ask Irene a question.
Molly although sleepy turned till she could look into the blue orbs of Irene and after taking a deep breathe Molly let the question pass through her lips. "Why?" Irenes glazed eyes snapped to attention and for a moment she simply stared into Molly's darker ones. An almost thoughtful look came over the woman's features. "Why what Molly?"
"Why do you stay? What do we do this?" Molly asked her voice soft and unsure, the courage ebbing from her system. Molly must have been a glutton for punishment. First she had fallen in love with a man who only had eyes for his flatmate and now she was in love with a woman who made her living off of what people liked. She should have been happy with their arrangement. Yet as everyone knows when a person is in love they become greedy, they want all of their partner. Molly wanted Irene, she wanted her mind, her body and her heart. The worst part was that Irene knew how Molly felt.
Irene remained silent and continued to stroke Molly's hair. Molly seeing that she would not receive an answer sighed and shook her head, conceding defeat. Just as she was moving to turn back Irene caught Molly's cheek in her warm hand and placed a soft almost sweet kiss on the girls lips.
Molly let out a pleasured sigh as she wrapped her arms around Irene's neck and pulled her closer. Irene climbed on top of Molly and placed her long legs on either side of the girl, straddling her. With one hand she caught Molly's hands in her own and pinned them to the pillows above Molly's head. With the other she cupped the soft pale flesh of Molly's breast, the tips of her fingers ghosting over the sensitive nipple. As she pressed gentle kisses and soft bites along Molly's neck the girl couldn't help but let small gasps and frustrated groans escape her pretty lips. Irene continued this gentle assault on Molly's neck and breasts until Molly had all but melted into a puddle of sexual frustration. " Irene.." Molly groaned her wrists wrestling to free themselves of Irene's firm grasp. Molly wanted to touch her but Irene wouldn't have any of that.
Since they had began their "relationship" Irene had taken to leaving tools in the drawer next to Molly's bed. Scarves, rope, handcuffs, a riding crop. They usually went for the handcuffs and crop but Molly was surprised when Irene pulled to silk scarves from the drawer. Irene was undeniably skilled. She could make people melt with just a look and drive a man to is knees in twenty seconds flat and as Molly watched Irene tie her hands to the bedpost she was reminded of just how fantastic the older woman was. She was beautiful, brilliant, and at times she could be terrifying. She was a storm, a storm Molly wished nothing more then to get lost in.
After Molly was tied securely to the posts Irene straightened and for a moment she stared at the woman beneath her. To Molly it looked as if she was studying her. Irene had this deep look of concentration of her sharp features.
Irene was in fact admiring her. She admired how Molly's body would bend to her will and she wanted to remember ever detail about it. Irene wanted to remember every inch of the soft smooth skin, she wanted to remember the weight of the girls breasts, she wanted to remember how Molly would purr when Irene dug her hands into her hair. Irene wanted to remember every gasp and moan that would leave Molly's lips.
For nearly an hour Irene teased her with small bites down her body, long torturous licks, and teasing fingers but Irene never brushed that sensitive button, she never dipped her fingers within Molly. She kept her from orgasm, she kept her from the release she so desperately needed. That is until Molly almost mad with desire, begged. Molly was like a tensed wire and with one flick of Irenes fingers she snapped.
Afterwords Molly was so exhausted that she was only able to stay awake long enough for Irene to untie her and pull the exhausted pathologist into her warm embrace. Irene held her till the early morning light shone through the windows. Molly who was fast asleep didn't feel the soft kiss Irene placed on her forehead, she didn't see the sadness in the woman's eyes, and she didn't hear the door close behind her.
Molly woke to an empty bed. Despite the fact that this was a normal occurrence Molly couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The house seemed colder then usual. Letting out a sigh and running her long fingers through her mussed hair Molly rose only to groan in pain. The first time had been rough and although their second encounter had been uncharacteristically gentle Molly still felt the after effects of such vigorous activity.
It was an hour before she noticed it. A whole hour before she realized why the house felt so much more empty. Everything of Irene's was missing. She wasn't one to leave things over but a few things like make-up or a spare shirt. It was gone. Molly let it sink in, Irene had left. It really shouldn't have been such a surprise and it really shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. They weren't a couple, they weren't exclusive. They were nothing. Yet Molly still felt the pain in her chest.
It wasn't until a week later when the body rolled into her morgue did she feel true loss. Irene Adler was dead; However this time it was real. Everything matched. From the fingerprints to the dental records. Which she could confirm do to the fact she had imprints all over her body. She was gone. Irene Adler was gone.