Alright so I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this chapter but I have a little bit of time and you all seemed so keen to get it so here you go. You might have to wait until Friday for the next instalment though…depends how work goes this week.
Chapter 4
Molly sat unmoving for a moment as she took in what he had just said. Here was the man she had been in unrequited love with for the last five years giving her free rein over his body and she was hesitating. But that hesitation had real foundations. It was all fake; none of this was real but the long-term damage to her heart was a very real possibility. The trouble was she wanted to pretend it was real and she reminded herself that this was all to help Sherlock...and that was what decided it for her, that and the fact that she might never have a chance with him again. She wanted to help him and this was also her opportunity to indulge in her fantasy and she knew she'd regret it if she didn't take it...and who knows, he might even enjoy it.
So she started with something simple, something she'd always wanted to do; she moved forwards and slowly let her hands run through his hair, letting her nails scrape softly over his scalp, watching as his eyes half closed when she did; she smiled, so he did react to physical stimulus. She pulled on his hair a little and this time his eyes closed completely and his mouth opened in a silent moan which sent a spike of lust heading south in Molly's body.
She shifted slightly and moved her hands to his face tracing his features with her fingers. She let her hands slide over those gorgeous cheekbones and her thumb moved over his full lips. As she did that his tongue came out briefly and licked the end of her thumb. The next time she put her finger on his lips pulling the bottom lip down slightly as she pushed her finger into his mouth.
His eyes opened slightly and he swirled his tongue around her finger sucking on it which made his cheek hollow out, making his cheekbones stand out even more. He was so gorgeous and Molly didn't think that he honestly had any idea what he did to her. Even now she knew she was wet for him, her muscles clenching and unclenching; her body needing to be filled by him. He simply enthralled her.
She couldn't resist any longer and she withdrew her finger as she leant forward to kiss him letting her hand slide around his neck feeling his curls tickling her fingers. There was one thing about kissing Sherlock and that was that fake or not he gave into it completely, she didn't sense that he was holding anything back. His mouth opened to hers and he kissed her with a passion which took her breath away and left her dizzy every single time.
It wasn't enough though; she wanted more and so she pulled away momentarily seeing that slightly dazed look in his eyes and the small frown forming on his forehead at her stopping what they were doing.
Before she could chicken out and lose her courage she stood and then slid back onto his knee by placing each of her knees either side of his hips so that she was straddling him. Her skirt rode up in the process and as she kissed him again she felt one of his hands sliding up and down the skin there leaving trails of goose bumps which just fed her arousal. She knew she was at risk of pushing things too far with him but she trusted that he would enforce his boundaries...she had no doubt that he could and would do that.
This time when their mouths met his tongue twisted around her own and Molly felt as though she was losing all sense of where she finished and he started. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders and felt him help her shed it, holding onto her as he moved forwards to rid himself of it.
As he leant back against the settee her hands moved to his shirt quickly unbuttoning it until she was able to pull it from his trousers exposing his chest and stomach to her eager touch. She knew that she was losing perspective; that somewhere along the way this had become real for her and she knew it was going to hurt but in this moment she just couldn't bring herself to care.
His skin was warm and smooth with only a light smattering of hair across his chest and another trail just showing above his waistband.
Molly let her mouth move to his neck where she kissed and licked and bit all those points on his neck which had caught her attention over the last few years. She knew she was marking him and he must have known it too but he made no move to stop her. Instead his hands moved to her back where they slowly unzipped her dress.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
Sherlock also knew that they were on the verge of going too far, he knew it with the same certainty that he had known that Moriarty was still dead when his plane had landed the previous year but he did nothing to stop it. Molly was overwhelming his senses and his emotions. It was like an unstoppable force, an avalanche that was just washing everything away in its wake. He could smell her, taste her, feel her and the things that she seemed to be awakening in his body were sensations he hadn't even known he could experience.
He had made out with Janine multiple times but it had never been like this...never. That had been a chore to get through...he'd almost had to disengage his mind from his body but this...this was engaging every sense and his mind...his mind felt like it was spiralling out of control.
He groaned as she slid off his lap onto the floor and he groaned a second time when her mouth closed over one of his flat, hard nipples. Her hands seemed to be everywhere and he was painfully aware that he was now hard. He knew, in part, that that was a natural physical reaction, he'd achieved erections with Janine but it still felt different. There was a very real temptation to do something about it...to give into physical pleasures and release.
As Molly kissed her way down his chest and over his stomach he suddenly realised he wasn't going to stop her. Whatever it was that she wanted to do to him he was going to let her. His eyes flicked open for a moment in shock and his hands threaded into her hair as she sucked the skin on his hip into her warm, wet mouth.
Her hands moved to the fastenings of his trousers and he held his breath. For the first time there seemed to be a pause and complete silence in the room and then just like that she let him go, sitting back on her heels and washing a hand over her face.
'I...I'm sorry Sherlock. I think maybe I should go.'
He wanted to say something, wanted to stop her but instead he just watched as she stood and retrieved her bag and coat, slipping her shoes back on and zipping her dress back up a little.
He stood as she left his flat and followed her down the stairs wanting to make sure that she was safe as she waited for a cab. He made no move to button his shirt back up, instead it hung open...forgotten.
She opened his front door and turned back. 'Thank you again for tonight...I really did enjoy it.'
He hated how sad she sounded and he moved forward and cupped her cheek. 'Molly, if this is too hard for you I'll understand...but believe me when I say that I enjoyed it too.' He could almost hear John shouting at him to say more but he couldn't...he just couldn't.
He did bend his head though and gave her another, more chaste, kiss on the lips. It didn't last long but even Sherlock recognised that it felt more honest than any of the others.
He watched as she turned away, hailing a cab and climbing in, she waved to him shyly and then she was gone. Neither of them had noticed the photographer hidden across the street.
The next day when Sherlock collected the papers he quickly found the article.
Protective Detective in Love
Underneath were two photos one of him with his shirt open kissing Molly on the doorstep of Baker St and the second of the two of them arriving at the restaurant. He read the short article.
Hat detective Sherlock Holmes looks to be a man in love again. He was spotted with his new girlfriend, Dr Molly Hooper (aged 33), a pathologist from the very hospital that the sleuth threw himself from just over three years ago in a fake suicide which shocked the world. Sources tell us that the couple have been together just over three months and from the looks of them they are very much the loved up couple. After dining at the exclusive Chiltern Firehouse they returned to his flat on Baker St and the detective was seen protectively escorting his lady to a cab a few hours later.
Sherlock sat back in his chair and smiled. 'Perfect!'
It was at that moment that his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and sighed; his mother. He was tempted to ignore it but he knew it would just prolong the inevitable.
'Mother, I wasn't expecting your call...you shouldn't have.'
'Don't be ridiculous, with an article like that in the papers of course you knew I would ring. Now tell me about this girl. Mycroft mentioned her last night but I didn't believe him.'
'There's not a lot to say.'
There was silence on the line and eventually Sherlock gave in with a huff of exasperation.
'As you know from the paper her name is Molly Hooper, she's the pathologist who helped me fake my death and we've known each other for quite a while.'
'So, why now? Seems convenient timing.'
Sherlock narrowed his eyes. He'd expected this suspicion.
'I don't know what I can say mother, we've been together a while I just didn't want to advertise it. I know how much grief that can bring me...such as phone calls like this one.'
'I'm assuming you're bringing her to Catherine's next weekend.'
'You assume right.'
'I do hope this is real Sherlock, for your sake. And do make sure you are polite to Catherine, she's not getting any younger and she deserves your respect.'
'I give respect where it's due...it just so rarely is.'
'Anyway, I'll see you next week. And Sherlock darling...'
'Yes.'
'Just remember your father and I love you very much, it would be nice to hear from you a bit more often, it's been over a month since we saw you when we last visited Eurus.'
Sherlock rolled his eyes and hung up, throwing his phone down before leaning on his fingertips. He needed to think through his reactions to Molly the night before. He'd put it off until now but he needed to understand just what had gone wrong and how he could solve it.
When she had left the night before he had felt frustrated, unsatisfied and just downright angry but he didn't know if he was more angry at himself for being so weak or her for leaving. He tried to pinpoint the moment that it had all fallen apart, when his normally cold, detached persona had lost its usual control but he couldn't. Was it when she had threaded her hands through his hair, when she had kissed him, when she had straddled him (which had felt amazing having her pushing herself against his erection in that way) or frankly when she had given him the impression that she might go down on him?
Even the thought of it had him reacting once more and he sucked his lips into his mouth biting on them to try to control himself. He was almost ashamed to remember the rest but remember it he must.
You ready to see how Sherlock coped after Molly left? And what did you think of the complete collapse in his self-control…poor Sherlock, he has no clue does he!
