I don't own these characters, I don't own the Star Trek's universe: I only own my sick fantasies...for now. Not beta-ed, and I apologize in advance for any mistake you will find, since English is not my first language.
Dedicated to my dear, talented Flavialikestodraw (follow her on Tumblr, it's an order!), because she feels a bit under the weather, lately, and because her talent inspired me.
The angel of love was upon me
And lord I felt so small
The legs beneath me weaken
I began to crawl
Confused and contented
I slithered around
Reveal is beyond me
I was lost I was found
Angel - Depeche Mode
Until she raises her eyelids, Molly can't say which one will be before her eyes- the angel, or the demon. She knows that they are always with her, guarding her sleep, waiting for her to decide. But she can't.
Sometimes it's Sherlock's gorgeous smirk that welcomes her. His full lips brush against hers, waiting for her to fully recover from her slumber. It takes only a few minutes for him to deepen the kiss, to cover her fragile body with his slim one, and make her feel the heat of his arousal against her groin. He swallows every moan, every muffled scream, while he slides inside her, in a heated race to reach the cliff's edge, and fall together, breathless and spent.
I'll never be a saint
That's not a picture that your memory paints
Not renowned for my patience
I'm not renowned for my restraint
But you're always around
The sinner in me - Depeche Mode
Usually Khan doesn't wait for her to wake up. Molly can feel his muscles flex behind her, while he spoons her, and soon his callous yet gentle fingers cover her perky breasts, eliciting her cries of pleasure.
"Shh, little one... Continue to dream..." he whispers in her ears, and his hand goes down, until he reaches her cunt. "So wet... You're always so wet...". A solitary finger enters her, slowly, and his tongue on her neck brings out another moan. He laughs at her lack of self-control, while his engorged cock teases her from behind.
"Please...". She knows that he will not give her what she wants, what she needs, until he won't hear her beg.
"Say it again... I know you can do better than this...". Khan adds another finger, and she feels full, but not enough.
"Please... Please fuck me!". Her strangled plea is the only consent he needs, because he doesn't waste any time to free her pussy from his fingers and enter from behind, setting a savage pace that will bring her to the orgasm before him. He follows her just a breath later, his mouth bruising the soft skin of her nape.
The angel, and the demon. She knows that they are always with her, guarding her sleep, waiting for her to decide. But she can't.