A/N: This was written for the House/Cameron Smut-A-Thon fanfic picture prompt challenge over on Live Journal. The pic I chose was a bed, with white linens and white lace. Enjoy!

Altar of Sacrifice

Allison Cameron had never seen anything so white, so pure or so innocent. As she stood staring at the bed, she was suddenly nervous.

Her gaze lingered on the white quilted comforter and the pristine white pillow cases and sheets. Hell, even the curtains on the window behind the bed were white. As she stared at the immaculately made bed, she blushed at the very thought of what would be taking place there very soon.

House was dealing with the delivery of champagne he ordered but she wasn't listening to the one-sided conversation. Her thoughts were focused on the things House was going to do to her in that bed and how many times he was going to do it.

It almost seemed like a sacrilege to ruin such a perfectly made bed.

And yet, her body shivered as she imagined how the soft cotton sheets would feel against her bare skin. She and House would be nestled in that warm cocoon and it would be perfect.

House had been nothing but a gentleman in the few weeks they'd started seeing each other. Of course, nobody knew they were even secretly dating. Neither of them wanted a repeat performance of their "disaster date" three weeks ago, with everyone giving their own brand of needless and endless advice on how they should approach the matter.

This time it was just the two of them sharing a secret. The secret being that as much of a disaster as that "date" was, there was something in the air that night that made it seem "unfinished." House couldn't handle that, and apparently, neither could she.

So they started hanging out, both at lunch and after work, having a sandwich or a drink together. Soon, sharing a sandwich led to sharing sexy glances and playful flirting. That flirting then led to late-night phone calls and intense eye-fucking that left her breathless at every turn.

The sexual tension that had always been between them had escalated to such a degree that Cameron was hardly surprised when House suggested they go away somewhere to consummate their relationship.

Of course, those weren't his exact words. His exact words, as she could remember them, went something like: "I want you all to myself for awhile. I promise to bring you back in one piece."

A flush rose from her chest to her face as she remembered the predatory look in his eyes as he said those words.

"Alone at last," House whispered in her ear as he handed her a glass of champagne. "Drink this and everything won't seem so overwhelming."

"I'm not overwhelmed."

"You will be," he grinned as he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek before downing his own glass of champagne and refilling it.

Then he looked at her. That same predatory look he had the other day that made her whole body want to melt into oblivion.

When he was close enough, he took the flute from her and set it aside so he could take her hands and pull her into his arms.

Then he kissed her. It was a deep, passionate kiss that lasted for several minutes until they ran out of air and their foreheads touched. Then he smiled, a gentle smile and kissed her again as he guided them toward the white bed. Or, as Cameron had begun to think of it, the altar of sacrifice.

As he lowered her onto it, he lazily began undoing the buttons of her blouse until it fell open and exposed her pale blue lace bra. His thumbs traced the outline of the lace cup and when it brushed over her nipple, she gasped.

Her skin felt so soft as he pushed her blouse off her shoulders and it slid off the bed and onto the floor. "So sexy," he murmured as he bent his head to kiss her neck and her throat. His teeth grazed her skin, creating small love bites, which caused her to moan softly and arch her back in response.

She had no doubt he'd be an amazing lover, and her heart was beating so loud in her ears that she was sure he'd be able to hear it.

House's callused hands slid behind her back, unhooked her bra and helped her dispose of it as he gazed at her with hooded eyes. Her breasts, though not big, were still beautiful, and he lowered his head to softly kiss her delicate soft skin.

"House..." she whispered as her hands reached up and wrapped around his neck to pull him closer. Her fingers then slid down his chest and began unbuttoning his shirt until it slid off his shoulders.

House pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor before he stretched out next to her on the bed and gently touched her.

Neither of them spoke as they continued to kiss and caress each other. Then they removed their remaining clothing and slipped between the cool, crisp sheets of the large bed. Their warm, naked bodies pressed against each other.

He towered over her as he explored every inch of her body with his mouth and hands until the ache for her grew impossible to ignore.

His hand reached across to the night table for a condom and he quickly dressed himself before nestling between her thighs.

Cameron looked up at him with a demure smile on her face. She'd wanted him for what seemed an eternity, she didn't know how much longer she could wait. He was poised at her slick entrance, and when she nodded, he slowly slid himself inside. Their moans filled the small suite as he stayed still for a moment, allowing her to adjust to his size.

She was so tight and wet that it took every ounce of self control not to go crazy and fuck her senseless then and there. However, he knew what she craved from him, and he planned on giving it to her.

He moved slowly at first, letting her get used to the feel of him inside her, after all, he was rather gifted in that area and the last thing he wanted was to hurt her by going too fast too soon.

"Oh..my God..." she whispered as her hands slid over his back and dug into his skin. "Please. Faster..."

House was only too happy to oblige, and began to move a little faster, hitting her even deeper than before until he felt himself getting closer upon each thrust.

"Oh yessss...harder...Oh God, Greg!" she cried out. His first name sounded almost foreign to her as it rolled off her tongue, but it seemed right for some reason. At work, he was House. But with her, in bed, intimately, he was Greg.

Her calling him by his first name was his undoing and he became completely unhinged.

To hell with romance! He thought to himself as he grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his waist so as to get deeper within her.

"Yes!" she screamed as her head thrashed side to side against the white pillows. "Greg! I'm...I'm gonna..."

She didn't even get the last word out, but the warm flood of moisture that suddenly coated his cock and her flexing inner walls said what she couldn't say.

He thrust a few more times until he fell over the edge of the abyss with her and he collapsed against her, burying his face in her neck.

He gently slipped out of her and used the washroom before he returned to the bed and discovered she was sound asleep already. He pulled the covers up over them and turned off the bedside lamp. As he settled in, he took one last glance at her sleeping form before sudden drowsiness overtook him and he drifted off with one arm protectively across her stomach until morning.

The End.