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It's difficult when the romantic and the hedonist in me are fighting. I want him to respect me and hopefully pursue an actual relationship, but then I remember he fucks like a GOD and loves my kink. Oh, life's hard.
Molly smiled at the text message from her sister, knowing that this was her first relationship after her divorce and she was high on lust, if not love. She’d met Richard and he had seemed to be quite a good fit with her sister Sarah, and he even took to her niece like a duck to water. While her own love life wasn’t as alive as her sisters, what she had was nice. She cast her eyes towards Sherlock, staring at his wall of evidence for the latest case he was working on, and then went back to her conversation with her sister.
No, sister dear. Life is good. And you deserve it. Molly keyed in her reply and hit send and then set her phone down and observed her own boyfriend for a bit. What she had with Sherlock had its physical moments, but they had been together long enough that it wasn’t an intense passion that she would worry would flare out too quickly.
And she’d already told her sister the shagging was divine. She was happy her sister seemed to have found a man who was good in bed and let her be in charge when she wanted, but her own sex life had been rather fulfilling for well over a year. The first time she and Sherlock had been together, she’d had trouble walking the next day. Apparently he’d studied tantric sex at some point and put it to use that evening. But now it was more sleeping next to each other until one of them absolutely had to leave, quickies in the shower, and slow, sensual kisses begging the one who had to leave first to stay even though she knew they wouldn’t. It was trying new things every once in a while and the rest of the time doing what the other liked, pleasing the partner as much as possible, and falling asleep in a tangle of limbs and sheets to wake up and start all over again the next morning.
It was love. She knew she loved Sherlock, and he loved her, and she hoped her sister had found that with Richard, but she was damn lucky that after all these years she’d found it with Sherlock. Once he’d told her why he wrenched those three words from her, that he had meant it when he said it to her and he would do anything, anything, to prove it, she knew he really truly loved her and it wasn’t an act, wasn’t a cruel joke.
There had been bumps in the road; she’d always known if she was going to be in a relationship with Sherlock it wouldn’t be smooth sailing, but they’d talked their way through them, made compromises and changes and come out the better for it. And she honestly, truly hoped that was what her sister had as well, even if she was living a more hedonistic life these days.
“He fucks like a God? Please tell me she’s talking about her paramour and not someone else. Richard is on the very verge of proposing at this point.”
Molly blinked and looked up to see Sherlock standing over her, looking at her mobile that was set on the table by her chair. She gave him a wide smile. “And what makes you think it wasn’t me talking about you?”
“Because you replied and then she said ‘And I assume Sherlock is similar?’ and you haven’t replied back.” He gave her a small smile. “Am I?”
“Oh, you’re amazing,” she said with a soft laugh. “But yes, she’s talking about Richard. She’s deliriously happy and wants the world to be just as happy as she is.”
He sat on the arm of her chair and picked up her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “And if I were to ask you to make this permanent, to move in here with me, would that make you happy?”
“It would,” she said. She gripped his hand as he lowered them back towards the arm of the chair. “Would you consider marriage?”
“Are you asking?” he asked, surprised.
“Maybe,” she said. “I love you, Sherlock, and I’m happy with you. I’m happy with everything we have, And I’d love to make it legal. But only if you want to.”
He looked down at her hand. “I could get the ring I have upstairs. Make it official.”
“Great minds,” she said, moving her hand away and lifting herself up to stand in front of him and embrace him. “Then...Sherlock Holmes, would you do me the honor of being my husband?”
“If you will do me the honor of becoming my wife,” he said.
“I will,” she replied, her smile the widest it had been all day before she leaned in and kissed him. Eventually, he stood, never breaking the kiss, and picked her up, beginning to carry her to his room. Maybe her sister would get this lucky as Sherlock said, but for now, she was going to celebrate her own momentous good fortune with the man she loved and share the good news later.