A/N: For the March 13th prompt - "Write about a longing." Rated M. Sequel to Anticipation.
Sherlock slept, as always, during the day. In his dreams, as had been the case for the past thirty-one years, he saw Molly. In the past, it was brief flashes of things she was doing during the day. Ever since she'd flowered into womanhood, though, his dreams had taken on another aspect entirely – scenes of what he'd like to do with her.
Most of them were simple, sweet things – sitting with her while she talked about her day, waking up to her beautiful face, dancing with her in his arms. They were happy dreams and deep down, he fervently hoped that someday, he would get to have those moments with her while he was awake.
Then there were the more intimate dreams. After finally being in Molly's presence again, his dream that day was firmly in that category.
She was asleep in her bed and he lay next to her, facing her, his arm around her waist as he watched her sleep. After a moment, he bent his head to kiss her shoulder. Neither of them had a stitch on and Sherlock decided he preferred it that way – the feeling of her bare skin against his was exquisite.
Her sleepy chuckle was the sweetest music to his ears. "I should've known better than to try to sleep when you're around."
"Just worshipping my goddess the way she deserves," Sherlock murmured, kissing his way up her neck. He could feel her fingers play with his curls and he smiled to himself. His hand lightly ran down her side, his fingers barely tracing over her skin, but Molly still jumped a bit when he found a ticklish spot.
"Not fair," she murmured, "you're not ticklish."
He chuckled and she lightly tugged on his curls until he lifted his head to kiss her deeply. She kissed him back with a passion he never thought he would be fortunate enough to receive from her. Molly pulled back when she needed air, her gaze soft as she took in his features.
"Promise me something, Sherlock," she murmured.
"Anything," he said immediately. "Name it and it'll be done."
"Promise me you'll never abandon me again. It was hard enough to lose my best friend, but to lose my best friend and the man I love would break me."
"I promise," he murmured. "Nothing will ever separate us again." He turned her onto her back then kissed her again as his hand moved between her legs, finding her already wet for him. "God, Molly…" He stroked her clit and she let out the most beautiful little moans, the sound alone making him even harder than before.
"Do you need me as much as I need you?" she murmured. One of her small hands lowered to wrap around his cock. "Mmm, I think you do."
Sherlock shivered. "I always need you," he whispered. "In my bed, in my arms, in my heart. You are my weakness and my strength, my making and my undoing. You, Molly Hooper, are the sun in my dark world – bright, shining, and warm."
She gazed at him, her eyes filling with happy tears, then she pulled him on top of her. Sherlock went willingly, bracing his weight on his arms so as not to crush her small, delicate body with his much larger one.
Molly appreciated his consideration, he knew. She showed it by running her hands down his back then grabbing his arse, making him groan.
"Molly… God, I need you…"
"Then take me, Sherlock," she murmured. She reached between them to wrap her hand around his cock again and guided him to her entrance.
He slid into her in one long thrust, her hot, wet cunt stretching around him, her face buried in his shoulder. Sherlock held her close, waiting for her sign. At her nod, he started to thrust slowly and deeply, moaning at the pure pleasure that raced through him.
Molly met his thrusts as she left soft kisses on his collarbone. After one more on the hollow of his throat, she lifted her head to gaze at him. "I love you, Sherlock."
"I love you too, Molly. My Molly." He lowered his head. Just as their lips met…
He woke up.
Sherlock groaned quietly, realizing simultaneously that not only was the beautiful moment he'd just had with Molly only a dream, he was rock hard and due to see the love of his life momentarily.
"I can't go to her like this…" No choice but to take matters in hand, as it were. I hope she can forgive me for being a little late.