London was in the middle of a heat wave that evening. Sherlock Holmes returned to Baker Street after solving a case, and he was hungry. And not for any kind of food either.
It was too hot to wear his coat, so he ripped off his blazer and tossed it he-didn't-know-where as he bee lined for the bedroom. When he'd texted Molly to let her know that he was on his way home, her reply that been the best kind of reply:
I'm waiting. ;)
He found the bedroom door nearly closed, with little light coming through the cracks. Heart pounding and blood boiling, Sherlock slowly opened the door. Once he saw Molly lying atop the bedsheets, his cock began to harden and a predatory smile appeared on his face.
"Molly Hooper," he growled as he removed his shirt and trousers. "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"
At first, Molly said nothing; she just watched him stripped down to his skin with the same hunger he felt. Finally, in response, Molly gave him a truly saucy smirk and equally saucy reply:
"You're the genius detective, Sherlock Holmes. Figure it out."
In an instant, Sherlock had crawled onto the bed like a dragon and his face disappeared between her legs. "So, you think you can get away with being naughty, do you?"
His hot breath tingled her most sensitive and damp place, and she threw her head back against the pillows with a deep moan. "Oh, not for one moment…please teach me a lesson…"
She heard him chuckle darkly before his mouth did something that made conscious thought truly impossible…
Later – much later – the couple had no trouble falling asleep while the heat wave still ran through the crowded city. After all, that heat was nothing compared to the fire they had just come through together. If dragon fire had ever existed, only that could have compared.
A/N: Don't deny it, ladies – we've all had some hot fantasies of that deep voice getting us wetter than Niagara. I'd have made it longer, but alas, this is a story of drabbles. But I'm sure your naughty imaginations can come up with something to fill in the gaps. ;)