This one is nice and long (that's what she said, sorry, I couldn't resist) to make up for the short one last time. Guests: I so wish I could respond, so let me thank you all for your reviews! You rock my world! I'm having so much fun with this fic. As I said before, this story is my baby (with like a three-year gestation period) and everyone's response is making me so very happy!

Please remember my thanks and warnings.

I own nothing. Enjoy ~Lil~


Chapter 7 - Afternoon Delight (Starland Vocal Band)

"Mmmmmm…" Sherlock moaned, still mostly asleep but awake enough to know he wasn't dreaming as he felt kisses falling on his face and neck. Someone was straddling him. Someone small and light… "Molly?"

"You... are... the... sweetest... man," she said each word between kisses.

He kept his eyes closed and let her kiss his drowsiness away, wanting nothing more than to simply relish her mouth and all the places where they touched. Bringing his hands up to her back, he realised that she was fully dressed. Mental note: make a rule that no clothes are to be worn in bedroom. He pushed his hands up her tee shirt and moaned again when he found the warm, soft skin of her back.

As Molly's lips moved to his chest, peppering him with affection and gratitude, his fingers dug into her hair, urging her lower. He was so hard, surely she'd noticed.

Her kisses stopped and he looked down his body to see a disheveled Molly smiling brightly at him. Nope, too distracted by her cat!

"How'd you find Toby?!" she asked.

He opened his mouth to tell her the truth, but nothing came out. A distant part of him fought against revealing it to her. "I didn't," he said, reaching down, he pulled her up beside him as he concocted a partial truth to feed her. "I had my homeless network look for him."

In reality, they had just retrieved the cat after a phone call (dressing down) from an annoyed Lestrade. 'The facial recognition system isn't a toy, you idiot!' he scolded. 'Why am I looking at an alert for a Toby Tabbius, wanted for rodientiaside and possession of Colombian Trip-Nip?' He laughed as the irate DI read off Toby's offenses. 'Whose cat is this, Sherlock? And how did you add fake crimes into the database? My IT guys say that's impossible!'

Wrapping his arm around her back, he held her closely. "It took them much longer than I had predicted. Sorry about that." It was pure chance that the cat had wandered in front of a security camera in the parking lot of a Tescos, pinging the alert he'd set when he hacked into the Met's system.

She sat up, pushing against his chest and looking at him as if he's lost his mind. "I searched for him for six months, Sherlock! They found him in a matter of weeks! I hope you paid them for all that work," she said, laying back down and resting her head on his pectoral muscle.

"They're well compensated, I assure you. So, am I forgiven?"

Turning, she kissed his naked chest. "Of course you are, you berk! But no more sedatives."

"Agreed." She started to get up, but he held her tight. "And where do you think you're going?"

"I need to go back out and get Tobes a box and litter and food and…"

Sherlock chuckled. "It's taken care of, Molly. The box is in the hall near your room, he has food and water in the kitchen and you should find an assortment of cat toys in the sitting room."

"They did all that? How do I get one of these assistants?" she asked with a giggle.

"They are at your disposal, Mrs. Holmes." He picked up her hand that was resting on his chest and kissed it. "Now, about the lovely way you woke me up?"

Looking at him nervously, she said, "Sorry, I was just excited."

He kissed her forehead. "Why are you apologising?"

"Well, you never let me touch you, I assumed it wasn't allowed."

"You can touch me whenever you like, Molly. Unless I tell you otherwise, of course." Placing her hand on his stomach, he moved it lower, slipping it under the sheet that covered his nakedness. "As a matter of fact, I find I tire of my own hand. So if you're interested…" He released her once they reached the coarse hair that surrounded the base of his cock.

Once again, Molly sat up, propping on her right arm. Her left hand stayed put as she looked at him with wide eyes. "Own hand? You mean…?"

His lips twitched at her unasked question. He had spanked her bottom, fingered her quim and cropped her to an orgasm but she was, evidently, taken aback at the prospect of his self-pleasure. "Yes, Molly. Don't act so shocked; I haven't hidden my excitement from you."

Her hand moved slowly until she reached his erection. It had softened slightly during the 'Toby talk' but was quickly returning to its full state.

Stroking him tentatively, she asked, "Why haven't you fucked me then?"

Sherlock was somewhat surprised by her coarse language, but he didn't allow it to show. Speaking plainly, without shyness or innuendo, would serve them both well.

"My pleasure is secondary," he explained, fighting the urge to thrust up into her hand. He had wanted her since he had returned - okay, perhaps a little longer than that - having her draped over his lap or tied to his bed had only intensified his need, but he prided himself on his control. "Though I make this promise, wife, I will have you." His own words surprised him. At one point, before their first encounter, he had considered avoiding actual intercourse but since that night, he'd been unable to stop thinking about entering her… fully and taking everything he wanted.

Molly's eyes darkened as she shifted, moving lower, her hand still completely wrapped around him. He closed his eyes, cataloguing every sensation.

"And if it's my pleasure to give you… pleasure…"

Opening his eyes, he said, "By all means…"

She released him and moved the sheet from his hips, exposing him to her for the first time. She was still fully dressed and for some reason it made him uncomfortable. "May I make a request?"

"Of course."

"I want to see you… all of you, while you touch me."

Biting her bottom lip, Molly sat up on her knees and pulled her tee shirt off over her head. She then removed her bra and scooted to the edge of the bed before unbuttoning her jeans. Standing, she shimmied out of them and her knickers at the same time. He marveled at how quickly she had become accustomed to being naked in front of him. Once finished, she gathered her clothes and neatly placed them on the chair across from the bed.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow in question.

As she walked back and got into bed, she said, "I can never find my clothes after you take them off." She crawled to his naked body and bent his leg out of her way, lowering it once again when she was seated back on her heels between his knees.

Suddenly she couldn't take her eyes off of his cock. Being the focus of her attention caused the organ to jump. Calm down! You act like you've never had a woman near you before! "I always put them in the basket in the bathroom, if you must know."

But she wasn't paying attention to his words, far too busy continuing her visual inspection to comment. Her hands, meanwhile, were getting to know his thighs, moving up and down, gently kneading the muscles. "What do you like?" she asked, the question directed to his penis.

Sherlock very nearly laughed. "What any man likes, Molly. I'm not picky." She snorted but he ignored it, casually putting his hands behind his head, he said, "Do your worst." A blow job was a blow job. Unless she plans on using her hand... He watched her careful examination of his erection. No, the way she positioned herself, definitely a bl…

Molly gripped him as she lowered herself and her tongue snaked out to collect the clear liquid from the tip of his cock. His mind was rendered momentarily useless. He suppressed a groan, unwilling to let it be known just how much he was enjoying what was surely only the beginning. She pulled away and smiled at him, moving further up his body, though she didn't release him. Positioning her chest above his pelvis, Molly raked a nipple across his tip before lowering once again to lick the skin of his iliac furrow.

He had honestly been expecting a simple blow job. Really, in his near constant state of arousal she needn't have pulled out all her tricks. That did not mean he was about to stop the wanton goddess that Molly Holmes had just become. The look in her eyes alone was enough to nearly undo him. She seemed like she was about to devour him whole.

Slowly, she dropped a line of kisses on his stomach and thighs before returning to his dick. Wrapping her lips around the tip she worked him deliberately with her small fist. She certainly had a knack. Keeping her grip moderately tight as she stroked him, she soaked his head before taking more of him into her mouth incrementally. He wondered if his size would prove a problem; he was aware that he was slightly above average, but she seemed to be taking it (and him) in stride.

Once she had managed to engulf about half of his member, she pulled away and focused her attention on his scrotum. It then occurred to him that Molly was, quite literally, trying to figure him out. She kissed his sac before taking one of his balls into her mouth and sucking. Sherlock hissed, his hips bucking up without warning. Most of his past partners tended to avoid the bollocks. He understood, hair and all. But Molly seemed to be enjoying herself if her hums and moans were anything to go by. She released him, only to repeat the process on the other side. God, she's thorough. During her ball-sucking, her hand had stilled, simply holding his cock at bay. He was starting to ache. As she let him slip out of her mouth, he expected her to move back to his needy cock, but she still had one more surprise for the desperate detective.

She moved fractionally lower, her face disappearing from view; all he could see was the top of her head as he predicted her next move. Sherlock grunted when Molly kissed his perineum. He hissed when her tongue lapped at the sensitive skin. But when she moved even lower, licking as she went, he suddenly found himself panicking. "Molly!" he shouted, causing her to look up. She had been millimeters away from wearing his seed in her hair.

"I take it that's a no, then?" she asked, looking a bit embarrassed.

"No, pet," he said, then took a very deep breath. "Not at all. But it will end our fun, rather quickly, unless I'm prepared for it." My brave, kinky little wife. He couldn't help the smile that formed. "Another time?"

She nodded shyly as she moved to once again take his cock in her mouth. Sherlock relaxed. Her mouth was hot and wet and she certainly knew what she was doing. He shouldn't have been surprised, Molly was always eager to please; a true submissive by nature. His hands found her hair, stroking her appreciatively as she made him forget everything: cases, his brother, John, Mary… Nothing mattered but Molly and her mouth and tongue and… Fuck, he was close.

She kept taking him deeper and deeper until he felt the back of her throat. After a quick pause, in which he assumed she was fighting her gag reflex, she took him even further, then back out. His hips were flexing up to meet her as she swallowed him deeply, once again. A tingle at the base of his spine was the only warning he had before his mind whited out. Then he was coming down her throat, holding her head firmly while he shouted his release.

Sherlock's body was boneless as he caught his breath. He was aware of Molly's tongue licking his softening shaft, then all contact was gone. Looking up, he found her staring at him expectantly.

"That was wonderful, pet." She preened at his praise. But that wasn't all of it, and he knew it. "You like being called pet, don't you?"

She nodded, her smile fading just a bit. That's when he noticed that her hand was inching towards her centre. God! She had become so turned on while she sucked him off that she needed to climax. Who needs cases when I could have this all day, every day?! he thought then promptly dismissed. He had promised himself to keep his life compartmentalised and not let regular sex change him. Breaking your promise after the first time she sucks your cock, Sherlock? Hormonal child! That voice sounded far too much like Mycroft, so he told it to fuck off and refocused his attention back on the needy woman in front of him.

Propping himself up on his elbows, he said, "Go ahead, Molly. Give your husband a show."

If he had thought she might hesitate, he would have been wrong. Her performance with his cock, however, had him rethinking everything he thought he knew about the woman who sat naked on the end of his bed.

Leaning back on her heels, Molly spread herself a little wider as she reached between her legs. Sherlock, now almost completely recovered from his mind-altering orgasm, followed suit, sitting up on his knees. Unable to resist a closer look, he moved forward a couple of inches as he watched her slowly teasing her clit. She wanted to enjoy it. Good. So did he.

Though unsure in some settings, he was finding this version of Molly much more like 'Lab Molly': confident but also ready to take direction. The realisation inspired him.

"Stop," he instructed and she instantly pulled her hand away from her folds. "Now, touch your tits." Her hands moved to her breasts, cupping them before she gently teased the tips to hard points. Oh, she wants more, he thought. "Is that how you like your nipples touched, pet?"

She shook her head.

"Answer me out loud and call me… husband," he demanded. Molly never made mention of their marriage, as if it wasn't real. It was understandable, it was a facade, after all. But when in this room - or any room, for that matter - when they were like this, she was his. He needed to reinforce this idea.

Molly's eyes widened as she sucked in a breath. "No, husband, it's not."

"Then touch yourself as you like to be touched, wife."

Clasping both nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, Molly pinched. Hard. If Sherlock was correct, she was pinching much harder than he had the day before. Noted. She pulled at the taut buds, twisting them roughly, never breaking eye contact with him as she abused herself.

His dick weakly tried to come back to life. Not now! "How does that feel?"

"It hurts. But I like it, husband."

The last word caused another twitch in his groin. "Good. Now stop."

Her arms went to her sides.

"You've been on your knees for quite some time; are your legs tired?" he asked, noticing that her thighs were shaking slightly.

"Yes. My knees hurt," she answered honestly.

Sherlock moved to the side, off of the bed and adjusted the pillows so that she'd be more comfortable for the next part. "Lie down."

She did, lying in the exact place he had just vacated. Sitting next to her hip, he gently stroked her stomach. "Do you still want to come?"

"Yes, please," she said, almost begging, but not quite.

"'Yes, please.' What?"

"Yes, please, husband," she responded without missing a beat.

"I think it's time we set up some rules, don't you?"

She looked startled, clearly thinking she was well on her way to an orgasm. "What sort of rules?"

He smirked as he stood and retrieved a dressing gown. If they were going to have this talk, he couldn't do it with his cock out. Especially since the traitorous thing was trying to come back to life. Retaking his seat, he said, "First of all, when we're in this room - even if it's just for sleeping - you are to be naked. Understand?"

"All the time?"

"Unless I say otherwise, yes."

Looking pointedly at his body, she asked, "Will you be naked too?"

"Not necessarily, no. But I tend to sleep in the nude, if that's what you're asking."

She looked across the room as if she was considering it.

"I require an answer, Molly."

"Okay, I agree. What else?"

"When we're like this, I prefer for you to call me 'husband'."

"Why?"

"Because I like the sound of it coming from your mouth," he said, emphasizing his point by reaching up and tracing his thumb across her bottom lip. "Unless you prefer 'master'?"

Molly snorted. "Not bloody likely. Husband is fine. What happens if I forget? Will I get punished?" She was trying to hide her excitement at the prospect of 'being punished', but did a poor job of it.

He nodded, hiding a smirk. "That brings us to our next point. Punishment won't always be a rosy bottom; it could be any number of things." Pausing, he let her think on that for a moment before saying, "For the time being, I want to take control of your orgasms... All of them."

Her eyes narrowed. "You mean I wouldn't be allowed… ever?"

"Not without my express permission."

Molly started to sit up but Sherlock quickly moved on top of her, pinning her to the bed. Obviously taking away her right to masturbate at will was a deal breaker. But he was unwilling to compromise on this particular point. "What's wrong? Afraid you don't have the self-control?" he whispered in her ear.

She struggled against his hold. "No, husband," she said with a touch of venom. "But it's my vagina! Why wouldn't I be allowed to touch it?!"

Sherlock nipped at her throat. "Because while we are married..." He released her left hand, snaking his right between their bodies until he reached her very wet slit. "... this will belong to me, Molly Holmes." Dipping into her, barely touching her clit, he continued, "It's a small price, pet, I promise never to leave you wanting. And if you need to climax, all you have to do is ask." He found her entrance and slid in one finger.

"What if…" She moaned as he added another digit. "What if you're on a case for days and days?"

"Text me." He kissed her jaw before sitting up just enough to watch her writhe on his fingers. "As long as you ask first and I give my permission, I will always be... generous."

"Oh, God! Okay! Yes, Sher... ah, husband. I agree!"

"Smashing!" He quickened his pace for a moment, bringing her closer to her peak, then quickly pulled out.

Molly looked devastated.

"I do believe that I was promised a show." He brought his fingers to her mouth. "Clean me up, pet. You've gotten me all messy."

He'd been dying to taste her again, even if only on his fingers as he had the first night, but her submission was very important at the moment. With only a slight hesitation, Molly reached for his hand and put his fingers between her lips. When she sucked them clean, even lapping at the webbing between this index and middle fingers, his dick practically jumped for joy.

"Good girl," he praised as he pulled away. "Now, I'd like to watch you come. Are you ready?"

"Yes, husband."

"Then follow my directions and I promise we will both enjoy ourselves."

She didn't speak. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. She seemed to be centering herself. "Touch your nipples again but this time not so hard."

Molly opened her eyes, looking up at the ceiling as her hands moved to her breasts. Just as before she took her nipples and started to pinch, but she followed his direction.

"Let it build, wife. Increase the pressure slowly."

She did, causing a soft moan to escape in the process.

"Look at me, Molly, I want to watch your eyes as you come, knowing that you're thinking about me while you soak our bed." He kept his voice soft and low. She had always had a thing for his voice and he fully intended to use that against her. Once was a time he used it to get his way at St. Barts, now he'd use it to talk his wife to an orgasm. Hmmm, I wonder if I can make her come from my voice alone. Something to ponder…

"Now, move your right hand to your pussy but don't touch your clitoris. Just get your middle finger nice and wet." He watched Molly's finger disappear between her folds, wishing he had a better view. If he moved to the end of the bed, however, he knew he would end up with his face buried in her cunt. "Put two fingers inside your hole and fuck yourself, wife, but do not come yet, understand me?"

Her hips were moving up to meet her hand seconds after he delivered his instructions. She fucked herself without shame, never taking her eyes off of him. The moans and needy little sighs coming from her, along with the stunning visual, had finally returned his cock to fighting form. Why am I fifteen all of a sudden?

"God, you're such a wanton little thing, aren't you?" he said, leaning closer to her and forcing himself not to take a nipple into his mouth. "Tell me what you want, Molly. Tell me and I'll let you have it." She was about to blow, with or without his permission.

"To come… please!" Though she seemed mindless - lost in a haze of desire and want, she quickly added, "husband," in an urgent gasp.

"Well then come, wife. I want to hear my name on your lips. Say 'Sherlock' when you come on your hand," he growled.

Her eyes squeeze shut as her body started to shake. She bowed upwards, her hand buried between her thighs as she whispered, "Sherlock," softly, almost reverently.

He gave her a couple of minutes to regulate her breathing before issuing his next command. Getting her attention by gently caressing her cheek, he said, "I need your hand, Molly."

It took her a second or two to realise what he was requesting, then she brought her hand out from between her legs and presented it to Sherlock.

He held onto her wrist and smiled his 'thank you' before he brought her fingers to his lips and sucked. He found no words to adequately describe the taste of her and he'd been trying since he'd cleaned himself after fingering her on the sofa after her spanking. He had always enjoyed the taste of a woman but Molly was… utterly, mouth-wateringly delicious. Closing his eyes, he relished each drop, promising himself he'd drink from the source very soon before releasing her fingers and looking at her once again.

She smiled contentedly as her eyes drifted shut.

Sherlock watched as the woman he had once thought of as an annoyance, then as a colleague, then an actual lifesaver lay naked on his bed, glowing in postcoital euphoria. I did that, he thought. I made Molly Hooper glow. Look at her… she is… beautiful. He had never seen anyone so free and open in their sexual desire.

Molly was completely unaware of her allure. She was self-deprecating yet confident in her own way. She wouldn't let him walk all over her, but she had just given him permission to tell her when to masturbate. She was complex, intriguing and utterly... remarkable.

She sighed, rolling her head to the side and Sherlock realised that she had masturbated herself to sleep. At least she can't blame me this time. He smirked, but continued to study her while he thought about their day.

His plans had gone completely out the window after her delightful wake-up call. That was okay; he could adjust. Hopefully, this experience would help him become more flexible, more patient. It seemed that Molly wasn't the only one who could learn from their time together. This will be good for me, he told himself.

She will leave you. When this is all over - when you've fixed your mess she will pick up and leave and you will be alone once again.

I knew that from the beginning, you overbearing tosser. Nothing's changed.

Is that true? his mind asked in a condescending voice. Then why are you watching her sleep like a lovesick fool?

I'm not, I'm just…

You are playing with fire and you know it.

I deserve this! I was nearly killed at least a dozen times in the last three years.

So, the truth comes out. This isn't about Miss Hooper at all, is it?

Why can't I have something nice for once?

Child!

Fatarse! Sherlock stood and paced across the room, trying to vacate his annoying brother's voice from his head. And I was in such a good mood! When he reached the window, he drew back a fist, ready to punch the wall.

Oh, yes. Very mature.

"Sherlock? Is everything okay?" he heard from behind him, reminding him that he wasn't alone.

His minor Mycroft meltdown had very nearly distracted him from what was really important. Drawing a deep breath, he turned. "Everything's fine." He smiled. "You passed out, pet."

"See? You don't have to drug me to get me to sleep. An orgasm will do just fine." She stretched her arms above her head and Sherlock had to look away, lest he tackle her and tie her wrists to the bedposts. "I can't believe I fell asleep again. I haven't slept this much since I was a toddler!"

"I'm a bit peckish, you?" he asked, trying to distract himself from the lovely vision lying in his bed.

"Starving!"


Well, that was... stimulating. Poor Sherlock still thinks he's in control. But perhaps he's a bit closer to figuring things out... maybe? Let me know what you think. I LOVE hearing from you all. Thanks for reading. ~Lil~