I bet you're wondering where I've been and why it's taken me so long to post. Well, I went to a Coldplay concert in London, and it was easily the best concert I've been to. If you like their music and get the chance to go to one then just do it, you won't be disappointed.

In other news it's my last day on holiday before going back into a new academic year (I work in a college). Where did the time go? If anyone wants to fund me giving up work and just writing instead let me know :).

Back to the fic, shall we see how the morning after the night before is going!

Chapter 14

Molly woke up the next day when an alarm went off on the bedside cabinet behind her. She was just trying to work out what it was when a warm body reached over her and turned it off.

It took her less than five seconds to realise that the body must be Sherlock and to remember what they'd done in the middle of the night. It felt dreamlike and unreal now it was morning, but it had definitely happened.

As she started to open her eyes, still tempted by sleep, she felt him shift in the bed and then his hand moved to her waist, and she realised with a shock that she was still naked.

The room was still dark with just a small amount of light coming in around the edges of the curtains and as she blinked the sleep out of her eyes, she could see Sherlock's face cast in various shades of grey. As her eyes met his he smiled lazily, and he let his hand drift down to her hip.

'Morning Molly. Sleep well?'

She couldn't help but smile in return and she also couldn't resist letting her own hand move to his body. She rested it on his chest and then slid it up and round the back of his neck.

'Mmm I did, very well. You?'

She pulled herself closer to him and stretched, feeling her body brushing up against his sending tendrils of lust all the way through her.

His hand moved down and onto her backside and as their hips met, she could feel how hard he already was for her and she couldn't help but rock herself against him as she hooked one leg over his hip, opening herself up to him.

His mouth was so close now and she was desperate to feel his lips on hers. She saw them move as he responded to her question. 'I did...I really did.'

She pulled him to her and felt his weight push her down onto her back as he finally kissed her, and it felt like an exhale. Her whole body seemed to relax into him feeling him pressing her into the mattress. Her hands couldn't get enough of him, with one hand moving into his hair and tugging on it and the other moving over his back and down to his backside pulling him closer. She could feel his cock nudging at her entrance, and she just wanted to feel him inside her once more. Just like the night before she was stunned by how intense it all felt, how perfectly they seemed to slot together. She'd had four lovers in her lifetime, but none had ever felt like this.

Sherlock's hand moved over her ribs until his fingers were brushing the side of her breast where it met his chest and before she could feel him entering her, he started to kiss and lick his way down her body and she mewled, feeling the loss of his cock against her quim.

She felt him smiling against the skin of her neck and when he spoke, she felt the vibrations down into her chest. 'Patience Molly, I want to explore you a bit more.'

His voice was so low and so damn sexy that she felt a flood of wetness just from the sound and she moaned as he finally moved level with her breasts. He pulled himself up for a moment as she saw his eyes raking over her body and she had to force herself not to cover up in embarrassment. He had such a raw look of desire on his face, and she could barely believe that it was for her.

Briefly his eyes flicked to her face, and she saw him slowly lick his lips. 'Oh Molly, you are beautiful. I'm sorry for never having told you that before this week.'

Then he bent his head and almost reverently took her right breast into his warm mouth. At the same time his hand moved between her thighs, and she felt his fingers parting her and sliding over her clit and she couldn't help but arch her body towards him in response.

He was tentative in his movements, and she quickly realised that as he tried different strokes and moves, he was assessing her response until she found herself completely overwhelmed. She cried out his name as she came, and it felt as if she'd been waiting her whole life for that moment. She'd fantasised about sex with him for so many years that she could still barely believe it was actually happening, let alone a second time.

As he stilled his movement, he shifted himself back up so he was face to face with her but before he could kiss her, she pushed on his shoulders. She saw his expression falter for a second until he realised what she wanted and as he rolled onto his back, he took her with him.

She sat herself up for a moment with her hands on his chest, feeling him hard and pulsing beneath her but she made no move yet to slide herself onto him. Instead, she enjoyed rubbing herself against him as she bent to kiss her way down his neck.

As she did, she couldn't help but tell him how often she had wanted to explore his neck when he was sat working at his microscope at Barts.

She heard him chuckle and his hands moved over her back, warming her skin, pressing her harder against him until she let out a moan.

Tempting though it was to spend more time kissing and learning his body she wanted to be joined with him again. She wanted to feel him filling her and remember just how good it felt to be so intimately joined with him.

She lifted herself just enough that she could reach down and position him and then she watched his face in the dim light from the curtains as she slowly slid down onto him.

His mouth opened in a silent gasp, and she saw his eyes narrow to slits and she loved seeing him so undone; it was such a rare sight but a beautiful one. One she wanted to see over and over again.

'God, Molly, you feel so good.'

He moved his hands to her hips as he pumped up into her and she had to bite back her own moan at the feel of it. How could she be this horny already when she had only just come? She couldn't remember ever having had the fabled multiple orgasms, but it seemed that for her Sherlock was the exception...of course he would be...she'd wanted him for so long.

Slowly, she started to move, rolling her hips as he brought one hand and his mouth to her chest. As he licked and lightly bit her nipple, she found herself closing her eyes and just giving into pure physical sensation. For once she didn't have to imagine she was with Sherlock, he was her reality.

That thought had her moaning out loud and she could feel a second, more powerful orgasm starting to build. It had her speeding up her movements, wanting to feel him deeper...harder inside her. His grip on her hips was tighter...rougher and she knew he was getting close himself until finally they both came. Molly fell first and the sound of her, and the feel of her, had Sherlock's grasp on his control falling away.

Molly wanted to stay connected to him forever...to feel how she felt in that moment for the rest of her life but all too soon she had to move and let him go.

Just as she was about to start a conversation about what this all meant he glanced at the clock and swore.

'Fuck...I'm supposed to be meeting the police. I'm on thin ice with them as it is, I'd better not add lateness to the list or I'll have to grovel to Lestrade for a second time, and you know how much I hate that. Do you mind if I have the first shower?'

She shook her head, and he pressed a quick kiss onto her lips, then he was throwing back the covers and padding his way, naked, to the bathroom.

She watched him go, enjoying the view of his taut, lush backside on top of those endlessly long, lean legs and then as the door closed behind him, she fell back onto the sheets and sighed.

Half an hour later she was eating breakfast alone and wondering what to do with herself. Sherlock had been in a rush, but he'd said something about possibly needing her for a stake out that afternoon, in the meantime she had a whole morning to kill. She'd already checked out the shops and spent a day at the beach so this time she decided she should be a bit more cultural and set off in search of a local museum or gallery. She found both. There was a museum dedicated to the south coast tucked away behind the department store and the top floor was devoted to showcasing local artists.

Molly had dabbled with painting herself when she was younger, so she enjoyed seeing the different styles the artists had used. None were to her taste though, so she wasn't tempted to buy anything even though they were all for sale.

Just before lunch she ambled her way back to the hotel breathing deeply and enjoying the sunshine. It certainly wasn't the holiday she'd expected to have but the way things were shaping up between Sherlock and herself it was definitely the best holiday she'd had in...well...ever.

She bit her lip and smiled to herself as memories of the night before and that morning came flooding back to her. Sex with Sherlock was so much more than she'd imagined it would be. She just had to hope that this wasn't a fling...and that he was serious about them. They needed to talk, and they would...she just needed to find the right moment.

As she made her way into the hotel it seemed that that moment would have to wait a while yet.

The second she walked through the doors she was accosted by a distraught Marie Havers.

'Oh, Ms Hooper, thank God you're here...'

She caught Molly's arm and started pulling her quickly through the lobby towards the entrance to the staff rooms. Around them the staff were looking upset and worried, and Molly could hear the tense voice of the receptionist obviously on the phone to the emergency services.

'...you're a doctor, aren't you? I'm right...that you're a doctor...'

Molly picked up her speed and nodded her head. 'Yes, I am. What's happened?'

'Oh please...' the older woman's voice broke. 'It's Mike...my husband...I think he's...he's in here...'

As Molly made her way through what was obviously the Haver's living quarters, she heard noises coming from the bathroom.

'Let her through...she's a doctor...'

Molly stood at the doorway into the bathroom and took in the sight. Already she was reaching for her phone and calling Sherlock, placing it on speaker phone, knowing she needed her hands free.

There were two members of staff working on Mr Havers, but Molly suspected it was all too late. They looked up at her in relief and stood to let her through.

Michael Havers was naked and wet; he'd been pulled from a bath...a bath that Molly saw was a deep shade of pink from his blood. His skin was cold and pale and there was a harsh, wide gash across his left wrist.

'Molly? Molly, are you there? What's happening?'

Sherlock's voice brought her back to herself as she knelt by the body and checked for a pulse.

'It's Michael Havers...he's been found in the bath...wrist is cut.'

'Is he dead?'

Molly glanced at Marie Havers and saw the concern in her eyes as she looked from her husband, to Molly, who was starting to bind the wound using the first aid kit brought in by the staff, and then to the phone lying by her side.

'I'm working on him now...the ambulance has been called. I think he's...' she couldn't say it...not like this in front of his wife. '...just get here Sherlock.'

'On my way.'

He hung up and Molly carried on with CPR on the body until the ambulance crew arrived. She knew it was too late, but she wanted Marie to feel that he'd been given every chance possible.

As she stood back for the ambulance crew, she made her way to Marie and guided her to a chair so she could sit down. 'Could you get two brandies please?' She asked one of the many staff who seemed to be hovering around but not knowing what to do.

Marie seemed to pull herself together for a moment as she looked Molly in the eye.

'Is he dead?'

Molly sighed. 'Yes, I'm afraid he is.'

So, another death, any theories? And I hope you enjoyed the morning after sex ;) xx