A/N: Haven't uploaded this here, yet. This is a prompt-fill (my very first one) for the amazing sherlolly aka Nocturnias.
The prompt was: "Please, please write a fic where Molly is better at something than Sherlock. And it irritates him and he keeps wanting a do-over and she keeps winning, and they make bets and Sherlock keeps losing. Bets can get sexy if you want, or not."
I hope it comes somewhat close to what you had in mind.
WARNING: SEXY TIMES! ;) Enjoy.

Thirty-two-times. It's been thirty-two-times that Molly checked her watch now. She was bored to death, sitting on the couch of 221b Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes as her sole company. And what a hell of company he was. He was just sitting in his bloody chair, his bloody hands steepled under his chin, his bloody beautiful eyes gazing into a non-existing distance.

Molly sighed.

„Shouldn't John be back by now?" she tried to get in contact with the consulting detective. He only acknowledged her existence with a quick glance.

Molly sighed again. Her eyes drifted over him once more, watched how the sunlight got caught in his black locks, making them shimmer like pure silk. Who would have thought that looking at the love of her life would get boring at one point? Certainly not her.

She let her head fall on the backrest of the couch and stared at the ceiling. She would kill him this time. She really would. This was the fourth time John stood her up, leaving her alone with Partyboy-Holmes, always coming up with a ridiculous excuse why he was late.

A part of her thought he did this on purpose. But it just wasn't John. John was her friend. They have been through Sherlock's fake death together. They had comforted each other, had spent time together and had finally laughed together again. Sure, when John had found out that Molly had been part of the death-faking, their friendship had a slight setback, but in the end John had forgiven her and Sherlock and they kind of became a trio. Of course it was mainly John and Molly having a great time while Sherlock was nagging and whining in the back. Still, it turned out to be the best time in Molly's life.

Except for now.

With a frustrated noise Molly jumped up from her seat and went over to Sherlock, starting to poke him in his upper arm.

„Are you even aware that I am here?"

No answer. Molly kept poking.

„It is cultural custom to offer a guest a beverage. Did you ever hear of that, Sherlock?"

No answer. Some more poking.

„Come on, Sherlock! I've been here for two hours and you haven't said a word to me. I'm desperate for attention!"

He glanced up at her, a ray of light making the blue and green in his eyes sparkle.

„Just tea for me, thanks."

Molly wanted to scream. And throttle him. Maybe at the same time.

Instead she made that frustrated noise again and went into the kitchen to put the kettle on. While she let water run into it, she spotted several abandoned coins on the counter. An idea occured to her and Molly grinned as she set the kettle on the stove. She searched through the kitchen cabinets until she found some shot glasses in the very back of the cupboard. Molly almost squealed with happiness.

Finally, an end to boredom!

Clink. Clink. Cli-clink.

With an inward sigh, Sherlock left his mind-palace and came back to reality.

„What is that woman up to, now?" he muttered under his breath and got up, just in time to see a coin fly in a perfect bow from the table to the kitchen counter, landing in a dusty shot glass and joining three other coins.

„What are you doing?" Sherlock asked, sounding impatient.

„Knitting a sweater."

Molly was sitting at the table and bounced her last coin from the table in another impressive throw into the shot glass.

„I obviously invented a game. Wanna play?"

„This is not a game. You're just throwing a coin into a glass."

„Nooo. I'm bouncing a coin from the table all over to the counter, into a tiny shot glass."

Molly stood up to retrieve the coins from the glass when Sherlock grasped her hand and pulled her towards him. As always when he touched her, Molly felt a little jolt rush through her body.

„Stop this nonesense."

„Will you talk to me?"

Sherlock looked down at her, cocking an eyebrow. Molly smiled up to him, mirroring his expression. He was still holding her wrist.

„No", he finally said and let go of her, walking back into the living room.

„You're just afraid I finally beat you at something", she said loud enough for him to hear. Sherlock stopped and turned around.

„Molly, I have far more important things to do than to toss some coins into a glass."

„I'm sure you do."

Molly grabbed the coins, grinning. After all those years, she knew exactly how to push his buttons.

It was no surprise to her when he pressed a „fine" through gritted teeth.

This would probably have been a good time to tell him that she had been 'tossing coins into glasses' since uni. But why bother?
„Care to make it interesting?" Molly casually asked as she went back to her chair, sitting down opposite of Sherlock at the kitchen table.

„I'm in no need of money, Molly", he replied dryly, taking the coins out of her hands.

Again, her body reacted to the brief touch.

„Neither am I. But I'm in need to see you on your knees."

He glared at her. Molly grinned.

„You really think you can beat me, do you?"

„You bet your arse I do."

Sherlock grimaced. He didn't like it when Molly cursed. But that only made it more fun for her.

„Fine. What do you suggest?"

Molly clapped her hands together and leaned back in her chair, looking at the ceiling.

„Oh, this is perfect. I'm not gonna waste this one...what would I want you to do for me? Hmm...you could clean out Toby's toilet..."

Sherlock grimaced again.

„Or you could do my ironing. I hate ironing."

„I can see that."

Molly glared at him and Sherlock smiled arrogantly.

„A massage would be nice...but your hands are not made for this. Your fingers a way too long and slender. Not much strength in them."

„That was a ridiulous attempt to insult me, regarding the fact that you love my hands."

„Excuse me?"

He grinned.

„You dream about these hands, Molly. I lived with you for several weeks. I heard you moan, begging me in your sleep to touch you..."

Molly blushed furiously.

„Well, that was five years ago, Sherlock! I don't dream of you anymore."
„Are you sure?"

„YES!"

They stared at each other for a few seconds, before a picture popped up in Molly's head.

„Twister!"

„Pardon me?"

Molly's superior grin was back. She leaned forward, folding her hands on the table.

„If I win, we will play twister. And you're gonna be naked."

„Don't be ridiculous. You just want to see me naked."
He waved her off.

„I might remind you that in those lovely three weeks you lived with me, I saw you stalk around my flat in your Adam's suit often enough. Have seen it all."

Now it was her time to wave him off.

„Then why do you want me to be naked?"

„That's my little secret."

His eyes roamed over her face, searching for the answer.

„You promised that little girl to make me play, didn't you?"

It was half a year ago when Molly assisted kind of accidently on one of Sherlock cases. A little girl, Carly, had written him to look for her mother who had seemed to had abandoned her child. She had only had a picture of her but had sworn to have seen her driving by in a car. Sherlock did take the case after some convincing from Molly and John and in the end it had turned out that Carly's mother had had an accident involving a head injury that had erased her memory. She had walked the streets until a man had found her, claiming to be her husband, which he was not. It was a whole story. In the end mother and daughter had been re-united and Carly had thanked Sherlock by giving him her favorite game, Twister. Sherlock had told her straight to the face that he had no use for this and Carly had been on the edge of tears, so Molly had promised that she was sure Sherlock would play eventually, even if she had to force him.

It seemed that the day had finally come.

„Her name is Carly. And I might have."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Sherlock chuckled.

„Nice try to confuse me with the nakedness."

„Oh, you will be naked. There should be some fun for me, too. So, do we have a deal?"

Sherlock eyed her for a moment.

„If I win...", he started, leaning forward..., „you will cook me dinner for a whole month."

Molly's lips twitched.

„You like my food, don't you?"

She leaned forward again, resting her elbows on the table.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

„It's not inedible."

Molly grinned.

„All right. I'm in."

They shook hands. Again, that familiar jolt.

„Do you want me to show you how it's done?"

Sherlock pressed his lips together.

„I don't need your help tossing a coin into a glass!"

„Fine then."

He didn't get it. He wasn't even close. Sherlock got more and more frustrated. Finally, Molly laid her hands on top of his. She turned the coin between his fingers.

„You have to bounce it with the flat side. This gives you more control. Here, let me show you."

She took another coin, leaned back in her chair, did her measurements by mere looking and with a swift move of her hand the coin was flying into the shot glass.

„See? Now, try again."

The look on Sherlock's face was priceless. He hated this. Hated that he failed while Molly was effortlessly doing it.

He was about to say something when they heard heavy footsteps rushing up the stairs.

„Molly", John exclaimed breathlessly as he arrived.

„I'm so sorry. Mary and I totally lost track of time and my mobile went dead."

„You're in big trouble, Dr. Watson."
„I know."

Molly rose from her seat.

„You will pay for dinner the next three times."

„All right", John agreed without protest.

„Okay. You're forgiven, then", Molly smiled and gave John a quick peck on the cheek.

„I'll just get my things."

„Are you coming, Sherlock?" John asked.

Sherlock tried bouncing another coin into the glass. He failed again.

„No, thanks. Just bring me the usual."

„I'm not your personal delivery service. If you want food, you have to come with us."

„I'm busy", was Sherlock's only reply before he tried once more.

„Doing this?" John asked in disbelief.

„Just let's go, John. Sherlock prefers to toss coins into a glass."

„He's getting weirder every day", John mumbled on his way out.

Before Molly followed she leaned over Sherlock's shoulder from behind, her lips close to his ear. Sherlock froze and glanced to the side while Molly put her hand on his shoulder.

„I'll let you off the hook this time. But next time, the game, Mr. Holmes, is on."

Molly walked out of the room feeling Sherlock's eyes on her.

Molly gave him a week to practice before she came back to 221b Baker Street. She knew John was at Mary's as usual.

As Sherlock opened the door, he glanced down at her. He wore another one of his body hugging shirts and black pants. Molly could tell by the smell and his still damp hair that he had showered.

While he threatened her with his height and his glare, she just looked up at him, enjoying the thrill of feeling his bodyheat.

„Have you practiced?" she asked and cocked an eyebrow.

He just nodded and made room for her to enter.

„Me too", she grinned walking past him, shrugging off her jacket.

Without another word he took it and hung it on the rack as soon as they reached the top of the stairs.

They went into the kitchen where the shot glass was already placed on the counter. Molly smiled as she saw a big plastic bag full of silver coins on the table. She decided not to comment on this and retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge, not without greeting Mr. Oliver – well, his head – which had been on her table three days ago.

„How many tries?"

„Three", Sherlock said self-consciously.

Molly grinned.

„Are you sure?"

Sherlock's jaw clenched.

„Yes."

„Okidok", she said and placed the bottle on the counter. While her body blocked the view on the shot glass, she tipped it with her finger, moving it just a bit. She knew it would be enough.

Then she went over to the cupboard, grabbing two shot glasses.

„Do you mind if I warm up first?"

Sherlock nodded and they both sat down. Molly moved one little glass in front of Sherlock and placed one in the middle of the table. Grabbing a pile of coins from the bag, she measured the distances. First, she bounced a coin into the glass in the middle of the table. And another. And another. Then she aimed for the glass in front of Sherlock.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

Sherlock's eyes widened a little and his back stiffened. Molly suppressed a smile and turned the glass in the middle over. She bit her lower lip and threw the coin. It hit the table, then the bottom of the first glass and flew in a beautiful bow into the shot glass in front of Sherlock.

His head jerked up and he looked almost shocked.

„Oh yeah. I might have forgotten to mention: I've been practicing this for over thirteen years."

Time stopped for a second as Sherlock realized that he has been tricked by little Molly Hooper.

While she grinned, he tried to keep his balance.

„Do you want to give up now or do you actually want to do this?" Molly asked in a purr.

Sherlock's hands balled into fists.

„Three tries each. I go first."

„As you wish, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock glared at her. Molly leaned back in her chair, letting a coin roll over her knuckles quickly.

Sherlock stretched a little and rolled up his sleeves. Molly had great fun to watch how he concentrated, recalling how to throw the coin.

To her surprise, he managed to get the coin in the slightly moved shot glass. But Sherlock was a fast learner at everything.

Molly did the coin-over-knuckles-thing again as she watched how he threw the second coin.

Clink.

Molly could actually see the arrogance returning in Sherlock's body language. He straightened up and cleared his throat, glancing quickly over to Molly before he threw the last coin.

Clink.

Sherlock made a gesture of victory, which made Molly smile. He really was cute when he smiled that boyish smile.

Now it was Molly's turn. Without ceremony she threw her coins effortlessly.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

Sherlock's smile vanished.

„Seems we have a draw", she smiled and looked down at the glasses on the table. Sherlock looked down as well. There was no way he would be able to do this.

„I tell you what", Molly said, showing mercy. She took both glasses and placed them in front of her.

„If you can do this, you win."

Molly took two coins and bounced them into the glasses at the same time.

They looked at each other.

„Or...you give up and start to remove your clothes."

It was so easy to flirt with him, for he never got it.

A twitch of his lips, a twitch of his eyes, then he grabbed the shot glasses and placed them in front of him.

He took two coins and like doing one of his experiments, he focused all his attention on the glasses, the coins, the table and the distance, analyzing the collected data with hyper-speed.

Molly watched how the coins moved between his thumb and his index finger and suddenly she had whole other picture in her head. Quickly, she averted her eyes and looked at his face, watching how he bit his lower lip in concentration.

Even after all those years Molly still thought Sherlock was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

Sherlock surely took his time. Molly didn't mind. She was a patient woman. She always had been.

Then Sherlock nodded his head, stating he was ready. He looked so young right now, like a little boy. It was part of his charm.

Again, he stretched, letting air out of his lungs. Then he threw.

Clink.

One coin hit the glass, the other on rolled over the table. Molly caught it and held it up.

„Why, now. Could it be possible...after all those years...that I beat you at something?"

She smiled at him. He scowled at her.

„You cheated!"

„I vehemently refuse this, Sir!" Molly replied and just to show off, bounced the coin into the empty shot glass.

„I'm just better than you."
Sherlock's fists clenched.

„Now, I'll get Twister while you undress. Give you some privacy and all."

Molly winked at him wickedly before she went upstairs to get the game. After Sherlock had thrown it away three times, John had stored it in his room so that the detective didn't have to look at it, being constantly reminded of the gratitude of a little girl.

When Molly returned with the game in her hands, Sherlock was still sitting in his chair, fully dressed.

„Why are you still wearing your clothes?"

Well, that's a sentence Molly surely never dreamt to say to Sherlock Holmes. Of course she thought it every time she saw him, but saying it aloud...

„I didn't lose, for you have betrayed me. The game's off."

„Ah", Molly smiled, putting the box down on the chair before crossing her arms in front of her chest.

„So you admit I beat you? Tricked the great consulting detective?"

Sherlock scowled again. Molly giggled.

„Oh, John will love this."

„You won't tell anyone about this!" Sherlock almost shouted, shooting out of his chair and towering over her. After all those years, Molly wasn't intimidated by his threatening glare, his height or his booming voice anymore. In fact, she had reached a point where she was able just to enjoy being this close to him, to have focused all his attention at her for those short, fleeting moments.

„I won't? But it's such a good story! Why wouldn't I tell it?"

„I forbid you", came Sherlock's icy reply. He took another step in her direction and Molly had to rest her head in her neck to look at him. She could feel his breath on her cheek now.

„You can't forbid me anything. You're not my boss, or my boyfriend. Not that I would you let forbid me anything if you were my boyfriend...We would be partners. Equals. It's the twenty-first century, after all...Anyway", Molly took a breath, „you can't forbid me. But I'll give you a chance to seal my lips in another way."

Sherlock's eyes wandered to her mouth and Molly had the feeling that he moved even closer.

„Duct tape?" he finally asked, raising an eyebrow.

Molly couldn't help but laugh, although a part of her wanted to throttle him. Why did he never get it that she was flirting? Was she really that bad at it?

„No, you moron", she giggled, placed her hands on his lovely defined chest and gently pushed him away from her. Sherlock's lips twitched again, but he let her do it. Molly picked up the box and held it in front of her.

„We are playing Twister. If you win, I won't say a word. You can keep your clothes on, if you insist."

„And if you win?" Sherlock asked, his eyes narrowed in doubt.

Molly shrug her shoulders.

„I don't know yet. I'll figure something out. So, are you up for it, Mr. Holmes? Or can I sent a text out to everyone you know that I beat you?"

Sherlock's eyes roamed over her and he came closer again.

„You're...attractive when you are like this, Molly."

The pathologist rolled her eyes.

„Oh, come on. That hasn't worked in years, Sherlock. Just surrender, will you? I have you wrapped around my little finger. The sooner we start, the sooner it will be over."

She rounded him and pushed the coffee table against the sofa. She felt Sherlock's eyes on her.

„But I must warn you. I am quite bendy."

„I know."

She looked over her shoulder. Sherlock's eyes were unfocused for a second, like he was lost in thought.

„Pardon?"

He looked up.

„Nothing. Let's get it over with."

Half an hour later, Molly and Sherlock were quite entangled. Molly had a hard time to reach the board to twist the red arrow.

„Left hand on red" she told Sherlock and he placed his hand on one of the red dots.

„Hm...that's quite a picture. Sherlock Holmes, on his hands and knees. Well, not exactly. But it's still nice", Molly joked and grinned down at him. He was scowling at her again while he kept his body weight up with only with feet and hands, his bum almost touching the mat.

„This is the stupidest game ever invented" he grumbled. Molly ignored him and twisted the arrow.

„Left hand on yellow. Hmm...you're taking up all the space, Sherlock. Move over!"

„No", was his reply, turning his head around, scowling like a little brat.

„Fine!"

Molly put the board on the coffee table and put her hand on the only left dot that was free.

Sherlock visible stiffened when Molly moved her upper body over him, her breasts brushing his chest only for a second. Molly wasn't aware that she almost pressed her breasts into his face when she lifted her body to twist the arrow once again.

„Right foot on blue" she called out and looked down again, suddenly stopped by the look on his face.

His blue orbs were sparkling and his lips were slightly apart. His normally pale cheeks had some color in them. Molly was about to ask what was wrong when she understood. Her eyes widened for a second. Desire awoke in her, a feeling she had suppressed for a very long time.

„Sherlock, I..."

„You're distracting me", Sherlock interrupted her.

„I didn't do it on purpose. I want to win fair and square."

„You're always distracting me. You always have been."

Sherlock's voice was a low whisper, sending goosebumps over her back. He still looked at her in this intense way, wandering from her eyes to her lips and back.

„I don't do this on purpose, either", Molly whispered, a pain shooting through her heart.

„I just wanted to be your friend."

„Why?" he demanded to know and Molly felt a lump in her throat. He was too close. His scent filled her nostrils, his body heat was tempting her to lean in closer.

„Because you are fascinating. And the best man I know", she finally replied, tears welling up in her eyes. He closed his eyes for a second, pressing his lips together.

„You would do better if you kept away from me", he whispered after several seconds of silence. „In fact, I would do better."

Molly gasped as his words stabbed her heart.

„Please, Sherlock. Don't send me away. The past few years have been the happiest of my life. You and John are the first real friends I ever had."

„Friends", Sherlock spat and looked at her before his eyes lowered to her lips once more.

„I don't want us to be friends."

Molly closed her eyes and lowered her head. She really had thought Sherlock had accepted her being around by now. She had thought he would feel for her at least a little. The cruelty of his words were hard to bear. But as it appeared, he wasn't done with her yet.

„I hate it that you are here all the time, talking and laughing with John, teasing me, smiling at me, touching me..."

His voice drifted off as tears started to fall on his blue shirt.

„I hate crying women...Tears. Sentiment. I don't want this to be part of my world. I don't want this...and I don't want...to want you."

It took Molly a second to let his words sink in. When they did, her head snapped up.

„Sherlock..."

He interrupted her again.

„I don't want my heart to beat faster when you're close to me like this. I don't want the tickling sensation in my hands, wanting to reach out for you, to touch you...I don't want to be jealous whenever John hugs you or when you rest your head on his shoulder when we're watching television. I don't want those thoughts in my head about you..."
„What thoughts?" Molly asked breathlessly.

He met her eyes only for a second.

„How your skin would feel under my fingers...what it would be like to hold you while you're sleeping, what it would be like to kiss you...what it would be like to sleep with you."

His hoarse voice died again and they looked at each other, both breathing heavily. They were wrapped in each others body heat and scent, almost touching.

„You're afraid", Molly whispered after studying his face. He didn't reply but his eyes were fixed on hers.

„You're afraid it would change you. That allowing yourself to...to love me would weaken your powers somehow."

He didn't reply this time either, but he didn't have to. Molly read it in his eyes.

„Do you want to kiss me?" she asked, her cheeks flushing. She still had a hard time to belive that this was really happening. But Sherlock swallowed hard, his lips apart and his eyes lowering to her lips.

„It would be a mistake", he managed to say.

Molly leaned in a little more, her nose almost touching his. Her eyes drifted shut while she fought with her own passion, rushing through her body, making her breathe even heavier.

„Maybe it has been a mistake not to do it", she whispered and her nose nudged his.

„Molly..."

She didn't let him finish. She couldn't hold herself back anymore.

She found his lips effortlessly, even with her eyes closed. Her lips brushed his, only using a little pressure. It was a chaste, brief kiss, but made her body scream for more.

She kissed him again with more pressure and nibbled at his delicious lower lip. Sherlock didn't pull back. On the contrary, he kissed her back, his lips trembling.

When Molly opened her mouth and the tip of her tongue slipped between his lips, Sherlock moaned loudly, lost his balance and fell to the ground. Molly opened her eyes to look at a gaping Sherlock. She couldn't help but smile. He looked adorable, lying underneath her, totally overwhelmed with the experience.

„It's nice, isn't it?" she whispered, grinning.

Sherlock could only nod in agreement, the blue of his irises replaced darkened a couple of shades. His arms snaked around her when she lowered herself onto him, sealing his lips with her own. Sherlock moaned when their tongues entangled each other and pressed her firmly against his body.

Molly didn't complain. Her fingers wandered into his hair, teasingly scratching over his scalp. Sherlock gasped and Molly smiled against his lips.

There they were, lying on the Twister-mat, making out. At one point, Molly stradled Sherlock, pressing her pelvis against his. The high-pitched moan which escaped his lips was adorable.

„You're hard", Molly whispered against his mouth and sucked at his lower lip.

Sherlock's eyes were half-closed and his breathing was flat. His hands were buried in her hair and he pulled her in for another kiss. Molly gladly obeyed, her heart filled with so much joy it was about to burst. She had given up hope on something like this to happen a long time ago. Never had she dreamed that Sherlock thought about her this way and had done so for a while.

But she didn't want to think about the wasted time now and prefered to concentrate on the beautiful man underneath her.

Her hands roamed over his lean chest before her fingers started to unbutton his shirt. After this was done and she had gently pulled the shirt out of his pants, her hands made contact with his bare skin. Sherlock gasped and his grip at her hair tightened. They never stopped kissing while Molly tenderly explored his upper body, caressing the soft skin beneath her fingers.

„Oh, Sherlock", she couldn't help but moan before she lowered her head to place a soft kiss above his fast beating heart. Her mouth and tongue replaced her curious hands and she kissed, nibbled, sucked and licked at his skin while she listened to Sherlock's hoarse breathing and the little noises of pleasure that escaped his delicious lips.

He watched how her tongue slipped out of her mouth and dipped into his belly button before she sealed it with her mouth to suck on it. Sherlock hissed, totally suprised by the sensation of this and his hips jerked up. Molly only looked up to smile at him while her hands started to unbuckle his belt. Sherlock's head fell back on the mat and he closed his eyes firmly, trying to process the overwhelming new data. It was all so much:

Her weight on top of him, her hair tickling his neck and chest, her sweet scent, her body heat, the feeling of her lips and tongue, her hot breath, the touch of her fingers and the remains of her saliva on his skin...

When he felt her fingertips brush featherly over his swollen groin, he couldn't take it anymore. Shaking his head, he grabbed her hand.

„No. No, Molly. No..."

Molly looked up, her eyes wide.

„Oh, Sherlock. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I just thought...I'm sorry."

She laid down next to him, looking up at the ceiling. Both of them were breathing heavily, Sherlock bare-chested and pants undone. It was silent for a very long time while both of them tried to slow down their heartbeats.

They had been so close a moment ago and now they were miles apart again. Molly couldn't believe that she had fucked this up. She had destroyed their fragile friendship by forcing herself onto him. God, she was a sick person!

Tears burned in her eyes.

„I'm so sorry, Sherlock", she whispered, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

„Don't mention it."

„No, of course not", she replied tonelessly and lifted herself off the ground.

Molly fled out of the flat. She never looked back. And she never called again.

~oOOo~

Almost a month had passed and Molly felt horrible. She couldn't get Sherlock out of her head, the way he had felt underneath her fingers, how he had tasted, how he had moaned and pulled her tight against his strong, lean body, kissing her again and again...

Molly violently shook her head as she climbed the stairs to her flat. She mustn't think of him, she told herself for the thousandth time and unlocked her flat. She stepped in, closed the door and put her bag down on the floor. She switched on the light and nearly got a heart attack when she saw Sherlock standing in her living room.

„Good Lord!"

Molly stared at him with wide eyes and instantly felt his skin under her fingers and tasted it on her tongue.

Yep, their friendship was definitely ruined.

„We never finished the game", Sherlock suddenly said and just now did Molly notice the Twister-mat spreaded out on her floor.

Hesistantly, Molly walked into the living room, shrugging of her coat and putting it over her armchair.

„I don't understand", Molly whispered honestly, not being able to look him in the eyes.

To her outmost suprise – or better said, shock – Sherlock crossed the distance between them until he stood right in front of her. Her heartbeat accelerated and her mouth went dry. She fought hard to keep her eyes open as his scent filled her nostrils. She stared at his chest until Sherlock lifted an arm and slowly cupped her cheek with his hand. Molly gasped and her eyes flew shut.

„I told you it would be better to stay away from me", Sherlock whispered in his low, sexy voice and a shiver ran up and down her spine. His thumb was painting small circles on her cheek and Molly's heartbeat stumbled. Almost afraid of what was to happen next, she looked up at him.

„I didn't want this. But now I can't stop thinking about you. My mind is filled with you and I can't delete any of it."

„Sherlock, I said I'm sorry..."

„You always came back to me, no matter how cruel I have been. But this time you didn't."

Molly closed her eyes again, feeling even more guilty.

„I'm just so ashamed", Molly whispered.

„Of what?" he demanded to know and Molly looked up at him.

„Of forcing myself on you. You didn't want it...you didn't want me..."

Suddenly she was pulled into his arms and her lips were sealed with his. Molly was too shocked to react, to kiss him back. It was like she was paralysed, only standing there while he passionately kissed her, pressing her so hard against him that she couldn't breathe.

„Molly."

The urgency of which he whispered her name against her lips was like a wake-up call. With a gasp she slung her arms around his neck, burying her fingers in his hair and returning his kiss with equal desperation.

From this moment on, everything was in a blurr. Clothes were ripped off, items were knocked over until they were lying on the Twister-mat again, both naked.

Without hesitation Sherlock rolled on top of Molly and placed his hips between her thighs while he kissed her again. Molly moaned as she felt his weight on top of her and slung her legs around him, pulling his pelvis down on hers. She felt his manhood poke against her flesh and gasped.

„Sherlock. Sherlock."

She whispered his name over and over again, as if to reaffirm herself that it really was him lying on top of her, kissing her, massaging her breast with his big hand.

Molly became impatient again and reached between their bodies to gently wrap her fingers around his hard manhood.

Sherlock moaned loudly and broke the kiss, overwhelmed by the touch. He breathed heavily, his forehead resting against hers, his eyes half closed.

„Are you sure?" Molly asked hoarsly and looked at him. Their eyes locked for a moment and Molly saw lust, desire, desperation, but also trust and something that made her heart jump.

Finally, Sherlock nodded and let her guide him to her entrance. His mouth fell open when he felt her hot, wet folds and acting on pure instinct, he thrusted into her, firmly closing his eyes.

„Oh God", he breathed hoarsly, being still for a moment, shivering from this glorious, wonderful feeling to be inside of his woman. She was his now. Something very primal in him told him that.

„Molly", he whispered against her lips before he started moving, gently rocking his hips against hers, groaning and gasping on top of her.

Molly wrapped her legs around him again and was rewarded with another groan and a hard thrust.

„Oh God. Sherlock", she breathed and buried her fingers in his hair to pull him down for another passionate kiss. Sherlock teased her with his tongue, lured her tongue into his mouth and deepend the kiss further while he continued thrusting. His movements showed his lack of experience, but he surely was eager and passionate. Molly clung to him, wanted to feel him as much and as deep as possible. He moaned against her lips again and settled on his elbows to make his thrusts more powerful. Their eyes locked and she looked into his face and saw how desire had softened it. The way he looked at her made her heart swell with devotion and love.

Sherlock came first, burying his face in her neck, exhaling a high-pitched growl. He bit her neck and pushed himself into her a few more times, which pushed Molly over the edge as well.

They held each other tight while their sweating bodies were shaking.

After a long while, Sherlock rolled off of her, leaving her panting and with a huge grin on her face. She looked over to him. His chest rose and fell quickly and he was staring at the ceiling with wide eyes and an open mouth.

„That was...interesting."

Molly laughed.

„It was bloody fantastic!"

He turned his head and looked at her, a smile spreading across his face.

„You're satisfied, then?"

Molly grinned.

„No. Never."

It took him a second to understand. He grinned, looking quite proud of himself.

Molly rolled over and snuggled against his side, nibbling at his earlobe. Sherlock hesitated for a moment, unsure what to do, but settled to sneak an arm aorund her and pulled her close. As it turned out, it was quite nice to hold her, even though they were both sweaty. He also liked how she continued to tease him by caressing his chest and nibbling at his earlobe and his neck.

„You know, you don't need a Twister-mat to engage in sex."

Sherlock snorted.

„I know that", he snapped.

„Good. Good. I just wanted to make sure."

„I might have been a virgin, but I'm not an idiot, Molly."

„You are sometimes."

He glared at her, but she just smiled at him and leaned in for a kiss. Sherlock didn't object. He quite enjoyed kissing her. He also liked to feel her warm, soft body against him. This is why he pulled her even closer.

„Do you want to take a shower?" Molly asked and looked down at him.

„Later."

He rolled her over, him following her. He started kissing her neck and his hand cupped her breast.

„Sherlock. What are you doing?"

„I still need to beat you."

His hand was replaced with his mouth and Molly sucked in her breath when his tongue twirled around her nipple.

„Sex is not a contest, Sherlock. But...ah...what the heck..."

His hand had reached the spot between her legs that let the words die in her throat. His fingers were curious, as was his mouth and just let's finish this story by saying that after several, very satisfying attempts, Sherlock finally beat Molly.