Part three

Warning: lots of smut in this chapter, just warning you all now! Enjoy, I hope you've all enjoyed the story!

Molly returned to the living room, hearing the screech of Sherlock's violin before she saw him. The confidence she had rustled up in the bathroom had now gone, the colour rouge returned to her cheeks faster than she could blink. Her mouth gaped, her feet froze to the spot, as she saw Sherlock standing in the glorious moonlight, quite haphazardly playing his violin, but now was shirtless. His chalky skin glistened, she saw the defined muscles of his back, smooth yet hard pointing down to his tight arse, still, unfortunately clad in his suit trousers. Molly closed her mouth, which was now more dry than the Sahara desert, to bite her lip, in order to stop herself from rushing over to him and bite his back.

It was Sherlock's turn to feel the gaze on his back. He stopped playing and threw the blasted thing on the chair, he always struggled playing when high. Aware that Molly was gazing at him, he smiled and turned his head, catching her eye for the first time this evening.

"See anything you like, Miss Hooper?" He smirked, only half teasing.

"God yes." It slipped out before she could control it, the words hung in the air, reverberating from Sherlock's deep laugh. She blushed furiously, violently.

"I am so sorry, that was, I mean.. Oh shit, Sherlock that was a joke I'm sorry." She continued to mumble and fidget on the spot, subconsciously running her hands down her sides. Deciding to resist no longer, Sherlock stepped towards her, until they were only a foot apart, he decided to see how far she would bend before she broke.

"Why are you sorry, Molly?" He gazed into her eyes, trying to deduce her every sordid thought.

"Erm, I don't know.." He was always curious as to how he managed to have this effect on her.

"What was it, in particular, that you saw and liked?" He rolled every word off his tongue, annunciation every consonant, biting at every word.

"I wasn't erm, expecting to see you topless." She was nothing, he was her truth serum and she would gladly give up her dirtiest secrets.

"Ahh, and why are you blushing, seeing me topless?" He was now so close to her, she was certain she could taste his breath in the air.

"You're.. Well you're quite nice to look at."

"Nice?"

"Well, a bit more than nice I suppose.. Erm.." She fumbled over her words, before being silenced by his hand taking hers and placing it on his rock like chest.

"Tell me Molly Hooper, what you think is so nice, about my body."

She gasped and tentatively moved her hand to his collar bone, glancing quickly at his face, she saw his look of hunger and knew exactly what she was doing.

"Well, your skin is soft, it's tough, but soft, moulded wonderfully to your bones." She brought her other hand up and rested it on his chest, mirroring her other hand, she slid them down his pectorals, scraping her nails gently down over his nipples. She didn't know what happened first, his deep, illicit groan, or his hands resting themselves on her hips.

"I think overall your body is.. Beautiful Sherlock, oh.." She stopped talking when she felt his lips sink onto her neck, his hands pulling her taught to his body. His teeth nipping teasingly at the sensitive skin on her neck, it was his breath on her ear that made her shiver.

"My turn." His lips never leaving her neck, his hands clasped around the zipper on her dress, he grazed her back as his pulled it down.

"Personally, I think the way your skin tastes is divine." Her dress pooled around her ankles, leaving her standing only in her black lace thong and heels.

"No bra, Miss Hooper? Perhaps, 'on the pull' you were tonight?"

"For you Sherlock, I always want you." She became breathless as his hands trailed u p her body, cupping her breast and feeling aroused at her hard nipples.

"Mm I'm sure you do."

His lips circled hers like vultures around a carcass, but she had had enough. Grabbing him by his neck, she brought their lips together to a crescendo. Neither holding back, his tongue soon began to play with hers. Pressing her body against his, feeling her nipples against his torso and her leg wrap around his calf, he let his needs take over.

He grabbed her arse and pulled her up so her legs were around his waist, being sure to grind his hard cock against her.

"Why the thong?" He managed to breath between fiery kisses.

"Why not? Don't you like it?"

He replied by swiftly ripping them from her. She laughed at his urgency, meeting his smile with her lips. His cock now aching with lust, she felt his hands tug off his trousers and boxers, it was all she could do, murmur his name before being pressed up against the cold wall of 221B Baker Street.

"I want to fuck you Molly, let me.. Christ." He was begging, his left hand holding her steady against his body and his right starting teasingly playing with her wet clit.

"Oh shut up Sherlock." She put her hands in his hair as she lowered herself onto his cock, relishing every inch that filled her. He rolled his head back into her hands as her nails scraped his scalp.

They moved together, finding their sync quickly, their lips magnetising together again.

Molly's eyes closed as she thought to herself, here I am, drunk, being fucked against a wall by the most perfect man..

"Molly open your eyes, look at me." His voice stirred her, awaking in time to feel herself shudder around him, Sherlock following soon after with a deep growl.

They stood still against the wall, unmoved and their clammy bodies panting together, regulating one another's heartbeats.

She didn't realise how much her legs ached in this position, she needed to climb off him but he was still holding her to him, tightly.

"Sherlock, put me down sweetheart" she whispered in his ear, placing a gentle kiss on his lobe. Although it took a few moments, he let her go, sliding off him and standing in front of him as he towered over her.

"Sherlock?.. What's wrong?" She looked up into his face, she saw him crying. Cupping his face in her hands, thumbing away the tears that rolled down his cheeks, she saw him try to speak, opening his mouth but words failing him.

His eyes were rolling back, he brought a hand to the wall again for support, nothing but sounds escaping his mouth. Concern filled post-coital Molly, changing from sex goddess to Dr Hooper within an instant;

"Sherlock, lets put you in bed." He was still crying, but became floppy as he draped himself around her shoulders. They got to his bedroom, rather erratically and she helped him slump onto his bed. She covered him with a sheet before realising she too, was stark naked. As she grabbed one of his shirts and threw it over herself, he continued to mumble incomprehensible dribble and soon sleep seemed to take over him. She sat by him, stroking his moist curls from his eyes and feeling sleep trying to win her over also.

Seeing that he was settled and alright, she fought impeding sleep and walked back into the living room, in hope to clear up any evidence John may find in the morning. Bing careful to shut Sherlock's bedroom door, she flicked on the ceiling light and examined the room. What a shit-tip.

She made a start by washing their two wine glasses and putting the bottle in the kitchen cupboard, before collecting their clothes from the floor. As she went to pick up Sherlock's shirt from the floor in front of the window, she saw a box underneath the soft silk. Pausing to decide whether or not to open it, she picked it up in her hands. It was old, battered and well used. The Metallic tin shone beneath the elegant writing on the case. Love.

"MOLLY!" Sherlock's booming voice echoed through her, shocking her and causing the box to fall out of her hand. Clutching the clothes to her, she forgot about the rattling box and went back to the bedroom, flicking the light off behind her. The box can wait until the morning.

That's it everyone! Hope you enjoyed, any questions/queries anything the ask away. Thankyou for taking the time to read, hope you enjoyed it!