Chapter 8

Molly gasped as Sherlock's lips met hers and she unconsciously took hold of his hips to balance herself. But before his tongue slid into her mouth she had already closed her eyes and opened her lips slightly for him.

She heard him groaned as she latched it with her own and it had her reacting in the same way. By the time Sherlock's hands slid down from her head to hold her backside, she was already pushing herself against him, feeling his body shudder, feeling him getting harder for her.

The kiss deepened and he pressed her against the cool tiles wall, his leg firmly between her thighs and one hand now on her left breast. Molly moaned as he kissed and nipped the shell of her ear and the column of her throat, and gasped as the pad of his thumb circled her nipple.

She let her head fall back against the wall and looked back up at him. Sherlock's eyes were no longer blue, but so dilated with desire they looked like a deep cesspool, and as she tilted her face to his he bent down to kiss her once more. Slowly his lips moved along her jaw and neck licking and kissing, and then down to her breasts, catching her right erect nipple in his warm mouth and sucking it in earnest.

She mewled with need, but as much as she wanted to just give in, she knew she needed answers from him first. It took a huge effort on her part to catch hold of his jaw and as gently as she could, move his face and mouth away from her breast.

He gazed at her confused, with lost puppy eyes. For a moment Molly was tempted to send her resolve to the winds, as Sherlock looked so damn sexy and desirable. But she steeled herself and reluctantly placed her palms on his chest pushing herself out from under him, "Wait…just wait" her voice just above a whisper fearing to break the spell as she stepped out of the shower.

She grabbed the bathrobe and as she pulled it on, she saw him ruffling his damp hair and his head falling back a little. Sherlock turned out the water spread and sighed gazing down at her. The look on his face was tentative as if he feared he might have said or done something wrong, "It's alright" she reassured him, leaning herself against the basin, "I'm not…" she whispered capturing her bottom lip between her teeth as a faint blush coloured her cheeks.

"I'm not saying I don't want to…because I do Sherlock, but…" Molly broke off, "But?" he encouraged her as he came out of the shower motioning for her for a towel. "I just…I just need to know what is this" she ended her sentence moving her hand back and forth between the two of them. He sighed and looked away for a second, just long enough to wrap the towel absentmindedly around his hips, "This is what I want. You are what I want" he replied holding her gaze.

"No need to blandish me…" she saw him roll his eyes at that, "I'm not blandish you! I'm just telling the truth, Molly". She couldn't help but let out a deep sigh as she fidgeted with her bathrobe's belt, "Which is?".

"Truth is that I was a fool not to act on my feelings for you right away. I was too scared. Scared you would reject me. After all, I hurt you so many times, though many unintentionally, that it was a reliable reaction on your part. And even if you had agreed to be in a relationship with me, I still was scared that, as time went on, you may realize I wasn't right for you and leave me. And I wouldn't have been able to bear either of those things".

Molly's breath caught in her throat as he was basically declaring himself. She had never seen him look so vulnerable and at the same time devastatingly handsome as in that moment. And she was fully aware that to him she must look like a goldfish, her eyes wide and incredulous, her mouth constantly opening and closing without being able to utter a single word. The temptation to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming was barely resisted.

Sherlock smiled at her softly as he placed a hand on her face and let his thumb trace the outline of her cheek, "Truth is I think I loved you from the first moment I saw you, but at that time my belief that sentiment was a chemical defect on the losing side was deeply rooted I refused to see what, or better, who was before my eyes And now I found myself no longer able to deny that I love you and I always will".

The emotion was evident in his voice, Molly could sense it in its tremor and intensity and she found herself bewitched by it, her heart pounding in her chest. "Truth is I want you by my side as a friend, co-worker, lover…and one day, if you grant me the honour, even as a wife".

Never would she have thought the day would come when Sherlock would decide to act on his feelings for her. Yet that was what had just happened. If her ears weren't deceiving, he'd gone so far as to propose marriage. Molly was a bundle of nerves and didn't know, such was the happiness exploding inside her, whether to laugh or cry.

"I won't let you leave unless I've lost your heart completely. And now I don't mean to another man, I mean truly lost. Because of me, for what I've done…or rather what I haven't done in the past months" his expression was intent as he ended his heartfelt confession.

She closed her eyes for a second and when she looked up at him again, some tears were running down her cheeks. Sherlock's hands went straight on her face and his thumbs brushed them gently away. Concern, guilt and love written all over his beautiful, slapping face.

A small smile crept on Molly's lips as she shifted a little putting her right hand on his cheek, "They are tears of happiness, Sherlock" she whispered in a trembling voice as she stood on her tiptoe so she could reach up. Her eyes travelled to his mouth before returning to his eyes, "My heart is still yours, and always will". Her words died away softly on his lips.

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As soon as Molly's lips brushed his, Sherlock could hear someone letting out a hoarse groan and it took him a moment to realise it was himself. It was the release of built up emotions, frustrations, fears and last but not least, desire.

He had never been good at managing emotions and feelings especially with words so it seemed like a great idea to storm into Molly's bathroom and get into the shower with her. What could be better than letting his body do the talking for him?

And at first she had given in to his kisses and his touch. Then she had withdrawn and Sherlock had felt lost. For a long endless instant he had feared Molly had judged his reckless actions disrespectful and had expected her to send him away. But Molly was neither angry or outraged by his sexual approach, what she simply demanded was an explanation of what was happening between the two of them.

At that point Sherlock had had no alternative but to tell her, heart in hand, how he felt about her, what had kept him from acting on those feelings right away, and what he hoped they would lead to. And now she was kissing him and he found himself responding to her kiss, pouring all his love for her in it.

Another groan escaped Sherlock's lips as Molly's hands tangled in his damp black hair, tugging at it, causing so many sensations to ripple through his body. He slid his hands under her bathrobe and round to her backside wanting to feel more of her skin as their tongues tirelessly were mingling and dancing together.

He thrust against her letting Molly feel how impossibly hard he was growing for her. She broke the kiss with a delicious moan and he had to bite his bottom lip to keep an expletive from rolling out of his mouth at the spike of lust it sent down to his groin. His forehead was against hers and Sherlock was pleased to note her laboured breathing mirrored his own. He was undoing her as Molly was undoing him, "God, Molly. The things you do to me".

"Hmm" she blew out a shivering sigh, "And there's plenty more…" her hand curled around the back of his neck as he held her closer, their mouths opening to each other. Slowly he walked her back to the bedroom. As they went, Sherlock pushed the bathrobe off her shoulders baring at first her breast which he covered with his hands, playing with and teasing each nipple, and then leaving her naked, the towelling garment discarded on the floor.

Molly jolt in surprise when the back of her knees hit the bed as if she didn't realise where he had led her and giggled against his lips, breaking off the kiss. For a brief moment she rested her right hand on the bare skin of his chest and Sherlock was sure she could feel his heart beating strong and rapid.

Then her hands shakily slid down and her thumbs hooked in the towel round his waist, but before she could undo it, Sherlock's hands went on her face and made her look at him, "Molly" his voice sounded deep and desperate at his ears, "I must confess…it's been a long time, so long really that I haven't…".

Her lips quirked up slowly into a knowing smile and slowly, oh so slowly, she removed his towel and moved closer until their bodies were touching and her fingers stroking his spine and backside. His erection twitched against her thigh in response to her touch which seemed to wake up every part of his body.

As Sherlock bent his head so that his lips met with hers in a slow and sensual kiss, Molly shifted their positions and placed her hands on his shoulders pushing him gently to sit on the edge of the mattress. He couldn't take his eyes off her as she slid her knees at each side of his hips, straddling him.

Her arms looped around his neck as her breasts flattened against his chest and her centre rubbed on his erection looking for a friction of some sort. Instinctively Sherlock's hips rocked against her causing Molly to moan and her head to fling back. Sherlock looked up and his breath caught in his throat. She was absolutely stunning in his eyes. All the times he'd dreamed of making love to her, he'd never imagined her as dazzling as she was now in his arms.

Her usually pale face was now rosy, her lips were bright red and swollen from their kisses, parted to catch her breath but also in anticipation of another kiss. Her skin was warm and smelled typically of her with a blend of lemon essence. Her small round breasts fit perfectly in his hands and his mouth watered at the thought of hardening her nipples once more with his tongue and teeth. And her soft long brown hair was now totally dishevelled around her shoulders and gave her a wild look.

She reminded him of a Valkyrie and Sherlock, like a Viking warrior, wanted to be ridden by her. He wanted this amazing, powerful, strong woman to be his, in body and soul. Having abstained from all sexual intercourse for years now, he should have been nervous, but he wasn't. He had never wanted a woman the way he wanted Molly and that made the difference.

As these thoughts were running through his head, Molly had cupped his face and her light touch took him out of his reverie, "Sherlock, are you okay? Is it too much for you? We can slow down. We have all the time in the world to do this" she whispered rolling lightly her hips against his hardness.

He shook his head and took hold of his own erection positioning himself at her wet entrance making her clearly understand that he was ready for her. Molly rose up in her knees and slid down on to him. The sensation of finally being inside her was so overwhelming that Sherlock found himself fluttering shut his eyelids and falling back his head. Molly let out a low hum as she stilled too. Both enjoying the feeling of being physically connected as well as emotionally.

"Molly…Molly, please…I need you" a hoarse quivering plea whispered in her ear by his deep baritone voice nudged her to start moving. At first she took it slow and Sherlock knew why. After so many years of celibacy there was a real likelihood he wouldn't last long.

He truly appreciated her thoughtfulness but with her head buried in the crock of his neck, kissing and sucking at his throat and her fingernails scratching at his scalp in such a enjoyable way to send shivers down his spine, he was at a point he could hold no more. He heard himself groaning as he dug his fingers in her hips urging her on riding him faster. And Molly gradually increased her speed. They were both so close. He could tell by her inner muscles convulsing around him and by the delicious feel of his balls tightening.

Everything was so perfect. Molly in his arms, he in hers, making love. Their panting moans and mutual pleas the only sounds in the room. Their climaxes on the verge of being achieved…

Two sharp knocks on the door and they, caught off guard, faltered.