Christ. She just made Sherlock Holmes moan. Breathe, Molly. It won't do to pass out on the man.

Her lips and tongue continue to taste him and she trails her mouth back down, sliding his shirt to the side a bit so that she can kiss over collarbones. Her fingers instinctively move to the top button on his shirt, but she hesitates and lifts her head to look at him.

He seems more than amenable to his current situation but she remembers the ground rules he set from the previous night.

"Kissing from the waist up, hands only from the waist down?" she asks in a much more breathless voice than she intends.