So here comes the smut! I hope you'll all like it. If you don't like smut, then in a nutshell, here is what happens in this chapter: Molly takes Sherlock's up on his offer and that they have a wonderful night. As for plot, its resolution will take place in the next chapter.

Once again, thanks to all who read, commented, followed and favourited this story. It makes me so proud and happy!

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She approached Sherlock in a predatory manner, the heavy bass of the rock song playing on repeat in her head. Sherlock didn't move but his gaze became harder, having probably deduced what she'd decided. When she was in front of him, she put her hands on his chest and started pushing back. He slowly stepped backwards, his eyes locked with hers, and still the song kept playing in her head like an absurd soundtrack to what was going to happen. She kept pushing until he fell back against the bed. Once on the bed, he quickly moved back until his head was back on one of the pillows. Then Molly just lifted herself onto the bed and crawled up his body until their eyes were once again level. She sat across him, her bum settling against his erection. His eyes narrowed and she felt his length twitch under her but Sherlock said nothing. Just kept staring deep in her eyes.

As she settled on his hips, she thought that this was never what she'd envisioned in her fantasies. And yet, she couldn't help but feel her heart pumping the blood faster in her veins and a slow clench deep below. This was really happening, she realised. The thought spurred her on and she gripped his t-shirt, and unusually gracefully jerked him to her. She took him briskly out of the shirt, not caring much about the soft cotton and then kissed him ignoring his defiant glare. Sherlock's passiveness was all show because as soon as her lips touched his, he eagerly returned the kiss. She gripped his shoulders, not hesitating to claw at them as his tongue caressed hers and he hissed in pleasure in her mouth. Emboldened, Molly continued her exploration of his now bare chest, tweaking at his nipples, trying to elicit more moans and groans from him...and succeeding. The rush of wetness between her legs answered to the heady sensation of having the aroused detective between her thighs.

Eventually, she had to come up for air and take a look at her soon-to-be lover. He looked wild and debauched, waiting for her to have her way with him. She just kept her eyes locked with his as she quickly took her dress off. Thanks to the cheap elastic material, it wasn't difficult. But the cat ears got a little tangled in it and she had to tug them harshly with the dress to have it all off. As she puffed a few disarrayed strands off her face, she saw Sherlock take a slow look over the very pretty underthings she was still wearing – ironically, a small surprise for Tom that she'd decided on before going to the party. However, the effect wasn't wasted on Sherlock as he released a pained breath and she felt his length twitch again. He finally raised his eyes to hers and she smirked at the hunger in his dilated eyes. She couldn't repress her smugness at seeing him react to her like an ordinary man. It finally resolved some kind of ache inside her that was rooted in the events of the infamous christmas party. She liked this. Being in control of his reactions.

His hand came to rest on the delicate flesh between suspender and stocking but she quickly gripped it. At the questioning look in his eyes, she placed his hand at the bow of his pajama and said:

"I shouldn't be the only one to undress, should I?"

His jaw clenched a little at her words but he kept silent. She almost smiled at herself thinking that the cat had got his tongue and that this time, she was the cat, but the erotic sight of Sherlock tugging on the bottoms strings drained all thoughts of laughter from her. His eyes never leaving hers, he jerked the bow undone, his hand bumping against the juncture of her thigh. She had to bite back a moan at the sensation but disguised it as she went to her knees, giving room to her detective to wiggle out of his pajamas. Just as she was lowering herself against him, his hands surged up and griped her thighs. She squeaked out her surprise as he ripped the sides of her knickers and immediately a little smirk appeared on his lips:

"You didn't think I'll let you torment me further with that little bit of silk, did you?" he purred in her ear as he sat up, pressing their chests together.

Molly was too gobsmacked at the sudden return of his dominance and honestly overwhelmed at the amount of skin contact she was getting. She bit her lip as Sherlock finally cradled her bare bum cheeks in his large hands.

"There, gone. Much better now." he said "I miss the cat ears, though". He added thoughtfully with a devilish grin. "A great improvement on your usual style." he finally teased and with a soft expression on his face, he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

If the intention behind Sherlock's tentative humour had been to lighten the mood, it missed the mark completely. Instead, Molly was infuriated. This was hate sex, about revenge and hurt. How dare he try and turn this into a mimicry of intimacy? Or worse; to give her some pitiful comfort?

"Shut up!" she hissed , tugging sharply on Sherlock's hair.

The detective's eyes narrowed and he ground his teeth together with an audible click. His expression turned to stone once again.

"I could do without the hissy fits, though" he replied after a bit.

"Fuck you!" she swore between clenched teeth, somewhat relieved to be back in the charged atmosphere.

"Oh, yes. Do go on with that, please." he replied with a mirthless laugh.

Piqued at the undisguised challenge, Molly grasped his throbbing erection in her hand. Then, ignoring his bit back moan, she started to impale herself. The sensation was unlike anything she'd ever felt. She could feel every inch of his cock entering her as they hadn't really had any kind of foreplay to loosen up her a bit. And yet, in spite of the anger and the hurt, in spite of everything, she was so wet. She groaned in delight at the smooth glide and couldn't help but rest her forehead against his shoulder. She felt him release a shaky breath against the crown of her hair but she didn't move. She wanted to keep this in her memory forever. The feel of him inside her, finally. But as Sherlock remained still under her, invisible shadows of uncertainty crept up in her mind. She jerked her head up and looked at Sherlock. Immediately, his eyes met hers, drawn as a moth to a flame. He was panting slightly, rock hard inside her but he kept a tight rein on his emotions. Irritated, she rolled her hips swiftly and for a fraction of second, Sherlock's face mirrored a collection of emotions, too fast to be discerned easily. His breathing increased and he couldn't help but twitch inside her. Satisfied, Molly started up a slow rocking movement, getting comfortable with his girth. At first, she wanted to memorise all the little brushes of emotions flitting across his face. But as more than ecstasy and hunger made their appearance, she realised that she couldn't. So, she closed her eyes and focused on the inner sensation. The smooth tautness of him, dragging against all her pleasure points. His breath feathering against her neck, his mouth hovering over her pulse point but never coming close enough for a kiss. His grip steady but two of his fingers tapping lightly against her skin. All the sensation started gathering inside her making her increase her movements. She heard herself starting to hum with pleasure and she could almost make out another groan from him. But she couldn't entirely let go, she realised. Just as she was about to whimper in disappointment, she felt Sherlock's hand come to her cheek. She lifted her face to him and immediately he rested his forehead against hers.

"You're so tight." he rasped in her ear. She clenched around him at his baritone whispering dirty talk and he chuckled darkly. "I want to make you come with the sound of my voice. I already feel you so close to the edge. But you need a little intellectual stimulation, don't you? I bet you've needed it for a while."

She moaned loudly and tried to ignore his last comment, clearly aimed at Tom. Instead she sharply changed the angle of her hips and they both gasped as the dragging sensation roughened a little. As for her, pleasure had started mounting higher and higher as her clit received more pressure. As she met Sherlock's eyes once again, his smile became predatory.

"Yes, give me your best. I want you to rub yourself against me like the little cat in heat you are. Or would you rather I pet you?" With those words, he changed the angle of one hand moving it off her hip so his thumb came to caress her clit.

Just like that, she came apart. His voice purring in her ear, his length deep inside her and his finger lightly teasing her clit. As she came down from her orgasmic high, she realised that Sherlock was still hard inside her and that despite his pants and groans, he wasn't there yet. As she took in his proud satisfaction, she couldn't help but ask herself if that was all that he expected from their encounter. Did he assume that he just had to provide his services like a prized stud? Suddenly, the aggression that had been tamed by her orgasm roared back . She wanted more, she wanted to surprise him and throw him off his little ego trip. More than that, she wanted to make him come, to steal under his composure and get to the passion she knew was hidden underneath. She'd do better than a 9 case, she resolved and she'd use all her perception of what made the detective tick to have him completely undone. He must have sensed some of her inner thoughts because his hands moved to her shoulders. But before he could ask anything with his serious and concerned eyes – how she hated that look, ever since that day solving crimes – she shouldered his hands off and put her hand on his mouth. His eyes widened a little as she smirked and holding his gaze, said:

"You know I see you. I know what you like."

As she felt his jaw working a swallow against her hands and him getting even harder inside her, she made him recline slowly. Until he was laying back against her pillow, herself crouched above him, her hand still on his mouth. As she felt his breath starting to quicken against her palm, she took away her hand. As he took a long breath and briefly closed his eyes to calm himself, she cuffed his wrists in her hands and held them against the mattress. He swiftly opened his eyes at that and stared at her once more. Then, as the same song started in her head again, a little litany that drove her movements, she started riding him again. She knew she had read him well as Sherlock relaxed and relinquished all control, letting her impose her rhythm on him. At the unrestrained push of his hips against her, the clawed fingers on her bedding, she knew he liked it.

Delighted, she roughened her pace, trying once again to find the delicious angle that had made them both gasp. Sherlock made a strangled sound in his throat, closed his eyes and jerked his head backwards as his mouth opened before biting on a plump lip. The jolt of pleasure it sent to her core was unexpected and she moaned a little. His eyes opened at the sound and feverishly chased hers. She looked at him once more, feeling a strange connection form between them and she broke eye contact almost immediately in fear. She couldn't allow this to be something it wasn't, she would not survive another heartbreak her instinct told her. So she retreated into the physicality of their union. And how exquisite it was. She quickened her thrusts, wanting to feel more of his cock as her heightened senses started to feel the rough abrasion of him. As she felt another climax building she couldn't help but look at him once more. He had closed his eyes and laid his head back, his throat open to her gaze. A vein beat up wildly against the beautiful column of his neck and she couldn't resist a quick nip at his pulse point. Immediately, Sherlock opened his eyes and as he started to thrash in ecstasy under her, his hands freed themselves and came to her shoulders once again, enclosing her in his space, as a deep groan was released from his throat. Molly, as soon as she felt his climax crashed into her own. This one even more ecstatic than the first as it was shared with the man she loved.