His lips are parted and wet, pupils blown wide, the flush across his pale skin evident even in the low light. For some reason he can't help but realize, when she begins to ride him, that there's an extremely descriptive phrase for this.

Molly Hooper is having her way with him, and he loves it.

There will definitely be red marks on her afterwards, where he's gripping her now. Each exhale gains more sound.

(And bit by bit, somewhere in his brain, Molly riding his cock wearing nothing but her stockings and a heated look is blurring and burning away the memory of the first time he met Irene Adler face-to-not-her-face.)