Molly couldn't believe it. She could not believe that he had been this clever. With the scent of John's pleasure in the air and the taste of him on Sherlock's tongue, she was going to go out of her mind.
The first tingling of the change in her body chemistry started deep in her pelvis, setting her blood afire.
The feeling unfurled inside of her like a ship's sail, spreading out to every extremity and making her very bones tingle with need and want. She'd never experienced anything like it, this intense wave of desire leaving her gasping for her mate to fill her. If he didn't oblige her need quickly, she was sure that she would simply combust, her body succumbing to the burning desperation. Her skin felt too tight for her body and within seconds of the first sensations she was drenched in sweat, liquid pooling abundantly between her legs.
She dug her fingers into Sherlock's back, feeling that he could never be close enough to her to ease the ache she felt. With his mouth still on hers, he slid both arms below her body and gripped her, lifting her up and sliding her across the mattress until she found herself lying on top of John. The heat from his body only made hers worse, but the idea of being physically removed from him or Sherlock was bordering on painful. She could feel the muscles of his stomach and chest against her back, his arms offering a strong cradle as he stabilized her.
Sherlock caught her chin in his hand and held her still, looking into her eyes with a wildness she'd never seen in him before. Before she could wonder any more at the beauty of his passion, her head lolled back as she felt him slide into her, already fuller and hotter than he ever had been. She muttered nonsensical affirmations for his actions as he slid in and out of her, wanting every bit of him to fill her as she felt another orgasm building.
In the wildfire that was her impending climax, she felt John hardening again beneath her, his hips rocking against her arse as he held onto her and supported the coupling that was happening above him. He slid against her bum, slicked by her arousal, and in a mad moment of desperation to be connected to both of them, she dug her fingers into John's thighs and let out a commanding, "Yes, yes, please, do it," wanting to feel him in a way that was entirely familiar to her.
He took her arse in his hands and carefully pressed his cock against her bum. Sherlock groaned above her, his movements growing erratic and shallow as his knot began to form, and she felt John's cock enter her bum with a slick pop. The fullness sent her crashing over the edge, her body shaking with her orgasm and she failed to hold back shouts of bliss.
Sherlock lowered his mouth to her neck and bit down hard, extending her ecstasy. He thrust erratically, his thighs straining and his knot swelling larger than she'd ever thought possible.
"Fuck!" he shouted hoarsely, one hand gripping her hair and the other clenching John's arm as he came hard.
The feeling of him emptying forcefully inside of her sent another spasm of pleasure through her cunt and she nearly sobbed, her head dropping back onto John's shoulder again. It went on like that for several long minutes, Sherlock's residual bursts of ejaculation making her muscles flutter and John's cock enhancing every sensation as he remained sheathed tightly inside her bum. Eventually, she could feel Sherlock's knot begin to diminish and all three of them started to relax, Molly kissing Sherlock's neck as he lazily kissed John beneath her.
The fire under her skin had abated for the moment, her body cooling as Sherlock finally slid off of her and pulled her down to the mattress. He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead as he wrapped an arm loosely around her waist, John tucking against her back and slipping his arm across her stomach.
She felt beyond content, nestled between the two of them. She knew that they would need food and water soon, having exhausted whatever nutrients dinner had provided, but sleep was pulling at her and she just wanted to rest in their arms for a little while before the practicalities of their bonding called.
John was the one to slip from the bed first, disappearing into the kitchen for water and any nibbles he could find in the cupboards. Sherlock and Molly were too focused on each other to contemplate leaving the bed, though they did take the proffered refreshment when John returned. Sherlock hadn't realized how parched he was until he gulped from the glass of cold water, draining it in a few seconds. He turned down the offer of food – dinner had been more than he'd indulged in for days. He watched John and Molly empty three packets of crisps and split an apple between them, his eyes flicking everywhere, noticing each limb movement and every muscle contract and relax. His observation skills felt heightened, tuned in with greater accuracy to the two people in front of him.
It wasn't long before he noticed the pink color return to Molly's skin. He took a deep breath and inhaled a scent he meant to memorize – musky, but with a hint of sweetness. A scent he'd never detected from her before and one that was making him consider never leaving the bedroom again.
She sensed his change in energy, no doubt feeling the need for him swelling up inside her again. He licked his lips as he watched her shift on the bed, reclining against John's chest, one hand slowly reaching up behind her to grasp the back of his neck.
Oh, she was enjoying every minute of this, Sherlock thought. Fingers toying with John's hair and giving Sherlock a heated alpha stare even as she let her legs drop open and practically begged for his knot.
He was on top of her in an instant, pushing inside of her and drowning in the relief of a quieted mind unconcerned with anything outside of the flat, anything that wasn't Molly or John. He groaned as he felt himself nearing his climax, Molly's hot breath against his neck and her skin like an inferno under his.
"Mine," he growled, lifting his head to look at John. The omega's eyes were blown black with want and his mouth hung open, nearly panting as he watched. "Both of you. Mine."
The last thought he had before he emptied himself inside of Molly, locked inside her cunt, was that the words coming from his mouth belonged to some other man – a man who'd lost all sense of control and reason. He didn't care, only wanting to claim these two people for his own.
He knotted her twice more that night before Molly finally begged for reprieve, overcome by her heat; so when he scented the rise in pheromones again only ten minutes after their last coupling, he was surprised. Until he realized the scent was coming from John. It had taken all night, most of it as a supportive bystander while Sherlock mated with Molly, but John's arousal had finally reached heat levels.
And he was looking at Sherlock with desperation, his own cock rock hard.
It was Molly's turn to lie back, stretched alongside John as he opened his thighs to let Sherlock settle between them.
It had been so long for him…since uni. His cock twitched as he ground against John, letting the slick heat coat him. His muscles ached as he braced himself on his forearms, dropping his mouth to John's and enjoying the sharp intake of breath from him, his body shuddering with need beneath Sherlock's.
"Please," John begged between searing kisses. "Please, Sherlock, I need you…"
With a possessive bite to John's neck, Sherlock slid carefully, slowly inside of him, feeling John's fingers digging into his back. God, he was tight, and eager for him, his hips thrusting up to meet Sherlock's. He rocked into him, grunting with each thrust and biting his lip when he felt Molly's small hand slip between them and grasp John's prick. It made John gasp, his head tilting back and exposing his neck. Sherlock dropped his mouth to the flushed skin, sucking a mark into it that covered the old scars.
He could feel Molly's hand pumping John, brushing his stomach with each stroke, and it wasn't long before he felt the omega start to buck beneath him, his muscles clenching tight and a rough, "Fuck!" ripping from his throat. Sherlock grinned into the curve of John's neck, his hips snapping against his arse a few more times before he came, then collapsed to his side, completely spent.
The three of them lay on the bed, panting, utterly exhausted and satisfied, their bodies glistening in the first rays of sunlight that were peeking through the window.
Sherlock glanced up from his laptop as he heard John bounding up the stairs of 221, a grin on his face and a shopping bag in his hand as he entered the flat. It was the third time that week that he'd come home with a pastel colored shopping bag in hand.
"Bought out the shop yet, John?" Sherlock drawled, his attention split between the submissions on his website and John eagerly pulling a white romper with a yellow duck printed on it from the bag.
"Funny thing about the shops," John shot back. "They have more than five or six items to purchase."
Sherlock chuckled and watched John hold out the romper to Molly, who was sitting on the sofa with her feet propped on the coffee table and a pathology journal in her hands.
"Oh, John, it's precious!" she exclaimed, pushing her glasses further up her nose to get a good look at the romper.
"Think it'll fit?" John asked, draping the outfit across Molly's swollen belly.
"Seems to," she said with a smile, smoothing a hand over her stomach and straightening out the legs of the romper.
"Good," John said, leaning forward to plant a kiss on her lips before heading into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
Molly caught Sherlock's eye as she folded the romper and placed it next to her on the sofa.
"He's buying too much," Sherlock muttered.
"He's having fun, don't fuss," she replied with a smile.
"It's what the baby shower is for. Or so you keep telling me," he reminded her, still annoyed that they had to host the event in the flat.
"Doesn't mean I can't pick up a few things here and there," John said loudly from the kitchen.
Sherlock rolled his eyes, though he appreciated that the more time John spent shopping for the boring items, the less time he needed to do so. Fluffy booties and stuffed bears were not really his area. He was more interested in the practical purchases – bottle warmers, room organizers, a variety of infant thermometers. The important things. He made a mental note to visit the new baby shop he'd seen near Bart's to pick up whatever brands of diaper cream they had; he still felt he hadn't done a thorough enough job of testing the available ones for their chemical makeup.
He glanced over to Molly as she started to push herself up from the sofa, belly first.
"I need to get going," she stated, wandering over to the coat rack to find her jacket. "If I don't go now, I'll never find the energy."
Sherlock slid his chair back and stood up, crossing the room quickly to help her with her jacket.
"If you followed my advice, you wouldn't be going into work at all," he told her.
"It's just paperwork," Molly reminded him for the hundredth time, slipping her hand under her ponytail to pull it out from beneath the jacket. "Completely non-taxing."
With that said, she stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his mouth, giving him a smile before turning towards the door.
"See you two later," she called as she left.
As he watched her make her way down the stairs, John appeared at his side, steaming cup of tea in hand.
"She'll be fine," he said casually, blowing on his tea to cool it. "She's only seven months."
"Seven months and twenty-two days," Sherlock corrected. "Important detail."
"Ah yes, what would we do without your attention to important details," John teased, slipping an arm around Sherlock's waist.
"I didn't hear you complaining about it last night," Sherlock replied with a smirk.
"Well," John said, giving Sherlock's arse a smack before turning to head towards his chair by the warming fireplace. "Some things are deserving of attention to detail."
Sherlock chuckled, not entirely sure how he'd managed to acquire two such wonderful people in his life.
"Anyone ever tell you you're saucy for an omega?" he quipped, wandering towards him.
"You," John smiled, sipping his tea as he settled against the plaid cushions. "Every day. Which is why you both love me."
Sherlock took the few extra steps to stand right in front of him, dropping his hands to the arms of the chair and leaning forward. He smirked as John stopped mid sip, quietly lowering his cup to its saucer and staring up at Sherlock in curiosity.
"And aren't you quite lucky that we do love you," Sherlock teased, putting on the show of bravado that always amused John.
"I am," John replied, surprising him with the seriousness of his tone. "I consider myself lucky every day."
Holding his gaze for a moment, Sherlock smiled at him before lowering his head and capturing his mouth, coaxing his lips apart and deepening the kiss almost immediately.
"I have to be at the clinic in half an hour," John sighed against his lips.
"Then be late."
"Can't. Have an appointment."
"Then be home early," Sherlock ordered, placing one final kiss to his mouth before standing up straight again. "And don't wear yourself out at work," he added with a wink as he strode into the kitchen to retrieve his latest experiment from the fridge. "I won't be the only one wanting your affections. Molly was rather pissed that she missed out on last night while she was at work."