Work Text:
“Oh God, Oh GOD, Ohgodohgodohgodohgod YESSSS! Sherlock! OMIGOD JUST LIKE THAT YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!”
Sherlock smirked as Molly continued to shriek out her completion, her petite, sweat-soaked form not only beneath him but virtually wrapped around him - legs to hips, arms to shoulders, fingers in hair - mmm, he liked all of it, but that most of all. Only Molly knew exactly how sensitive his hair follicles were.
Well, Molly and of course his god-daughter, who had a single-minded fascination with those same curls, although under very, VERY different circumstances.
All thoughts of little Claire vanished as Molly dug her fingernails into his scalp, dragging his head down so she could plant a series of deep, sloppy kisses to his mouth, his cheek, even his chin. He kissed her back with equal enthusiasm, giving her a few more seconds to come down from her orgasmic high before once again pumping his hips, driving his cock deeper into her pussy with every thrust. He soon had her screaming his name again, and groaned against her neck as he felt the tightening in his balls and lower back that signaled the onset of his own orgasm. “Soon,” he gasped out, and Molly bit down on his shoulder, raising her legs into the air in order to give him the exact angle he loved most. “Oh, Molly,” he groaned. “Oh, fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.”
His vision whited out, his mind mercifully blank as endorphins exploded through his brain. Not a scientific way to put it, of course, but true nonetheless.
“Mmm, that was abso-fucking-lutely fan-fucking-tastic,” Molly purred as he rolled onto his back next to her, still gasping and shuddering in the aftermath of bliss.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” he agreed, turning to kiss her again. They cuddled close for a few more minutes until he glanced over at his mobile. “Ugh,” he groused. “Time to take that beast over to visit our god-daughter. Are you sure you can’t join us?”
“Nope, sorry,” Molly replied, sounding truly regretful. “I have to be to work in an hour. But give her a kiss for me - and Claire too!” she added with a giggle.
Sherlock gave her a mock-frown. “I am not kissing Tabby - ridiculous name for a dog, don’t know what the previous owners were thinking - even for you,” he said with a pout.
“Well, since her previous owners were drug dealers, I don’t suppose their judgement can be trusted on anything,” she said, ogling him appreciatively as he stood up and stretched.
“Point,” Sherlock conceded, leaning back down in order to kiss her again. “See you after work, then?”
“Yup,” Molly replied, stealing his favorite trick of popping the P obnoxiously. He rolled his eyes and she smirked and their usual morning ritual was complete - well, almost. He held out his hand, she allowed him to help from bed, and they showered together before heading in their separate directions - her to St. Barts and a day of autopsies and paperwork, and he to fetch his newly-adopted bloodhound and bring her round to the Watsons for a visit.
All in all, he thought contentedly as he allowed Tabby to pull him along at her preferred pace of ‘just a bit faster than comfortable for the human on the other end of the leash’, it wasn’t a bad way to spend a morning.