Molly silently led Sherlock into the bedroom. She finally knew. She knew she was right all along. He did care. He cared so much that he was willing to put her welfare before everything. She knew they belonged together. That they were meant to hold each other, to show each other how they felt.

She closed the door behind them and walked over to Sherlock. She looked at him. His face looked tired, afraid, scared but at the same time his eyes shone with happiness. A man that knew what fate awaited him, but in the mean time was confronted with the one person he cared most about in the world. The one person he had driven away was now back with him, where she belonged. How long this would last he didn't know, but for now he was determined to enjoy it. To enjoy her. To let go and to love it.

Molly stood on her tip toes and kissed him. As their lips locked together, they both felt the wave of electricity hit them. Their passion and desire for each other evident. They had kissed and touched each other before. They had shown how much they cared, but last time Sherlock's body wasn't strong enough for sex. This time things had dramatically moved on and he was back to full fitness. His body was ready for intimacy and his whole being screamed out with longing.

Their kissing was passionate, intense and strong, with hands wandering all over each others bodies. Molly ran her fingers through Sherlock's hair, driving him wild with desire and passion. His hand cupped her bottom and pulled her in close. She could feel his excitement through his trousers.

Without pausing the kiss, Sherlock was working Molly's top off, breaking the kiss only to slip her top over her head. She smiled to herself as he fumbled with her bra. Not something he was experienced in doing. Every time they had been together before, she had already taken it off.

Eventually he had to admit defeat "Help me Molly" he uttered breathlessly

Molly reached behind her and removed her bra. Sherlock stood back and admired her. This was his Molly and now he had her again he wasn't going to let go. He wasn't going to go through that pain and hurt again. He had never realised that separation from someone could hurt so much. Yes, he had hurt when he'd left John for 2 years after the fall, but John was his friend. He didn't love John in the way he loved Molly.

He pulled her back in for the kiss. Molly eased his dressing gown off him, and helped him pull his pyjama t-shirt over his head. Molly looked at Sherlock's scar. It was looking so much better than last time she saw it. The redness and swelling had gone down, and the healing process was well under way. She knew from the look of his scar that he was fit. He was ready for her. He was ready to make love to her. They pulled each other close, feeling the warmth of the top half of each others naked bodies.

As they continued to kiss, Molly reached her hands inside Sherlock's pyjama bottom waist band, and started to ease it down over his hips. He reached down at the same time and undid her jeans button and zip. In one synchronised move they took each others trousers off,. Sherlock was completely naked, and Molly just had her pants on. Then Sherlock continued to remove Molly's pants until they were both standing together in Sherlock's room, completely naked. They'd only been like this once before, on the last night they'd had together. They both shook with emotion as they pulled each other close, feeling the warmth of each other, their desire and passion. Molly loved feeling Sherlock's desire for her, standing proud and snuggled into her stomach. She was desperate for him. She needed him. She wanted him.

They fell onto the bed, kissing each other, touching each other. Sherlock's hand was on Molly's breast, caressing it. Molly's hand massaging Sherlock's balls as they breathed heavily, grinding and moving in time with each other.

Molly took Sherlock's hand and moved it down between her legs. She took a sharp intake of breath as he started to touch her, to work her. His fingers had not forgotten what she taught him last time. Of course he'd not forgotten. He was Sherlock Holmes. He'll have filed it away in his mind palace ready for when he needed it again. And sure enough, the memory was brought back to the surface with perfect recall. He was driving her wild with desire. He knew just how to make her scream.

Molly was pulling at Sherlock's erection, listening to the wonderful grunts that he made as he worked closer to orgasm. She loved looking at him. She loved the way he shook when she found a new rhythm, or touched a part of him she'd not touched before. It was like a child finding a new toy. She was helping Sherlock to find his body, to undertake his desires, to give in to his feelings and to enjoy them.

They were both moving faster and faster now, breathlessly kissing each other.

"Sherlock, you have to make love to me know before its too late" said Molly with desperation, knowing that she was so close to tipping over the edge if he kept touching her the way he was.

In one quick move, Sherlock was on top of Molly, his strong muscular arms holding his weight up perfectly as Molly separated her legs and let him in. He touched the top of her entrance and she thought she would go wild with pleasure. She was about to make love to Sherlock Holmes. The man she had wanted for so long. The man she had loved for 5 years. The man she never thought could like her back. And here he was, almost penetrating her. The emotions were overcoming her and she started to cry

"Are you OK, Molly? Am I hurting you?"

"Of course not, I'm just so happy. I want to make love to you. I want to show you how I feel about you. I have wanted this for so long. Please. Enter me. Make love to me"

Without a word of response, Sherlock thrust his hips and slid inside Molly. They both screamed with pleasure. The feeling was incredible. Sherlock had never felt anything like it. Molly's blow job last time they were together was an incredible experience, but now here he was actually making love to her. His body entwined with hers as they rocked in unison.

Their rocking and thrusting intensified, their kissing more desperate and more passionate than it had ever been. Molly felt herself coming towards the edge and she looked into Sherlock's eyes. She knew he was in the same position. Their explosion was simultaneous, loud, breathless, erotic. Sherlock thought the force of his ejaculation might force him straight out of Molly and throw him across the room, Molly's back was arched with screaming pleasure. They held each other tightly as they came, all their needs, wants and desires demonstrated in one hug. They were safe when they were together.

Exhausted, Sherlock rolled over and lay next to Molly, looking straight into her eyes. Both of them were breathing heavily.

"That was amazing" he said when he finally had enough breath to speak.

"I think I might have actually broken something" said Molly with a big grin on her face "I can't have exploded like that and not broken something."

Sherlock laughed. He felt exactly the same. He had twinges all over his chest, especially where his wound was but he too knew it was just his body screaming at him for giving him such a work out.

They lay on the bed in each others arms for quite some time, their bodies rising and falling in time as they got their breath back and their bodies recovered from the waves of pleasure that had engulfed them both.

When they had recovered, Molly looked deeply into Sherlock's eyes "I love you"

Sherlock looked deeply in to hers and took a deep breath, ready to express his emotions to her. Ready to show how he felt about her. "Molly, I love you too."