Author's Note: I needed to write this. If inspiration strikes again, it may turn into a more serious fic, or a few one shot smut scenes.

Their relationship was defined by illicit rendezvous and violent, passionate sex.

Married, not in his team, they had only a few excuses to be together and even those were starting to sound old and used. Eventually it would all collapse, they'd have to deal with the consequences of their lust, but for now...

She surprises him in the corridor to the morgue, pulling him into a storage room and silencing his complaints with her mouth. Neither of them had the key, so he leant against the door, her fingers in his mouth as she eases down to her knees. It felt right, his tongue flicking over her fingertips as her other hand jerks his pants open, pulling his length out into the cool air and tasting him again. Not their first time doing this particular dance and she knew the moves that would reward her.

The back of his head pushes against the door in ecstasy, lost in pleasure as the warmth that was her head bobbed deep down. When her nose pinned his boxers against his crotch he shudders and comes hard into the accommodating mouth that continues to work him over until he feels completely drained by the entire experience. Backing off slowly, he can feel her tongue cleaning every drop from him, leaving only a cool sheen of saliva to show him where she has been.

Her eyes follow his movements as she carefully buttons him back up, his fingers only stopping her when she starts to lift his pants up.

"We're not done." His hand was in her hair, pulling her up level with him, his slouch leaving them as equals until he spins her face first into the door, her cheek pressed hard against the emergency evacuation procedures for the hospital. The impact is stunning, emptying her mind of everything except his warmth against her back, his breath in her ear, his cotton-sheathed cock pressing hard against her ass, God bless high heels.

Fingers infiltrate between her stomach and the door, teasing downwards, their passage facilitated as his fingers graze hot skin. Her moan is deep and pained, achingly needy, her ass ratcheting backwards against him two notches. Pants slip down, dropping around her ankles, panties barely make it to her thighs before he's grinding against her and she's bucking back.

"House, we shouldn't..." Empty, useless words, regretting them before they even passed her lips but the electric sensation of his fingers pushing between her closed thighs quiet any further protestations.

"Your husband wouldn't like us doing this, would he?" The smile in his words echo in her moan as he gets just close enough to her clit to make her shiver. Robert wouldn't like this at all, poor, restrained, buttoned-down, boring Robert. He was so terrified that she was still in love with House. Maybe she was, maybe not, but lust, definitely lust.

All such thoughts are lost as he thrusts into her, slamming her ass hard enough to force her entire form flat against the door, the uncomfortable angle pulling his cock almost all the way out as her hips rotate forwards. Pushing back imbeds him back where he belongs, but he just batters her to the door again, his tip rubbing hard inside her. His lips are softer, kissing and touching over the side of her face he can see, even as they establish a rhythm. It won't last, can't last, especially in this position, too much stimulation for both of them, even with the taste of his climax fresh in her mouth she knows too many secrets not to make him come.

His stare sears the image into his mind, her hair escaping from its loose ponytail, hot blush rampaging across her cheek, lips parted as she gasps for air, his chest heavy against her shoulder blades. Fingers dig into his shirt, her arms tensing as she pulls him flush against her before bucking him off again, stifling a needy moan as the nerves behind her clit overload. She feels his teeth on her neck and loses control, ass shoving backwards to maximise her violation as she keens, whining her love for him in muted exaltation, begging for him to stain her, to claim her with his seed.

Fingers dig into pale thighs, bruising as he pounds her braced body, trying to force her hips to the door, if for nothing else than to assert his dominance, but she resists his advances even as her sex ripples and squeezes around him in ecstasy. He gives her what they both want, pushing deep and exploding and filling her with the only gift he can give. Holding her close he shivers, grinding hard and feeling her eyelid flutter against his forehead, leaning against her painfully as he lets her body coax the last of his seed into her.

Contented panting fills the room for a minute, the afterglow dulling the aches, her fingers stroking against his sides proudly. The pop of his vicodin lid brings them back to reality as he swallows two, taking another and kissing it forcefully into her mouth, to be swallowed obediently. She never really approves, but it feels too good to resist, especially when it is his tongue pushing it down her throat. She'd do anything if he wanted her to.

Fantasies interrupted by his fingers pulling her panties up, she turns, only emptiness and his semen filling her now. He bears down, pinning her to the door again, her mound tightly encased in cotton once more, his lips kissing hers. A finger rubs teasingly against her through the fabric, causing a shudder, eyes boring the unspoken message into her. Mine.

"I can't go home like this. Robert will know." Hell, anybody who got too close would know, she'd have to hide in her office again, unable to focus on work, unable to focus on anything but his come in her.

"My point exactly." His smirk is infuriating.

"I'm not telling him! I love him." More lies, to the one person who knows for a fact that she's lying. And he just smirks, blissfully aware of her duplicity, encouraging it, knowing she'll always come back no matter what he does, until she'll come to him and never leave, never again.

But not today. Looking away angrily she bends, pulling her black slacks up, forever thankful that her wardrobe would cover their indiscretions.

He steps away, rubbing his leg and watching her. When she looks at him again her anger has burned out, an explosion deprived of oxygen, hot and furious, but short-lived. Her hand slips under his, easing the tension in his muscles faster than vicodin ever could.

"Can I sleep at your apartment tonight?" Her eyes plead for him to let the charade continue. As always, he nods his curt assent, fingers circling her arms, drawing her in, kissing her, pushing all the things he can't say at her in the only form he can. She kisses back, understanding, accepting. It's their way. She lies and denies while he stands stoically silent.

Pulling away, she smiles, almost shyly, "I'll see you later." He nods again, following her out of the room when she's sure the way is clear.

Consequently, nobody else hears the gunshot report of his palm slapping her ass.