A/N: I'm getting back to Enough, I swear! But here's some House/Cameron sex for you to keep you happy while I get my head out of my ass to get back into the game.

Disclaimer: I stole a line from "Lines in the Sand", but compared to the 1,600 that I came up with on my own, I really don't feel that bad and think it's a fair trade. And let's face it – just cuz David Shore owns House doesn't mean he actually took care of it. C'mon, man – Cuddy?! Everybody knows that House/Cameron were like freaking meant to be together. And let's not even get into how I'm still pissed about how they dogged Jennifer Morrison…

"All change is bad? That's not true, you know."

And then she looked at him.

And then House did something that he had been wanting to do since Allison Cameron first came in for her interview.

He cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her.

Hard.

Her taste was a mixture of all of his favorite things – his Scotch, his Vicodin, his music, and his never-ending need to solve the puzzle.

And more – bleeding through it all, was the distinct taste of her – of everything she was, of everything he thought he hated about her but secretly loved and hoped she would never lose – her empathy, her passion, her inexhaustible caring for her patients – and most importantly…just…her.

Then she gasped.

It was such a small thing – that gasp. And it would've been inconsequential – it wouldn't have even mattered – except it came from Cameron, it was a direct result of something that he, Gregory House, did to her. And it was different than all the other things that he had done to her in the past – all the little things to rile her up, piss her off, and annoy the shit out of her – it was different because he had never given in to this stupid fucking desire that only she provoked, different because he was coming to her as man whole and not crippled, different because even in the most secret of wet dreams – all of them starring her (with some guest appearances by Carmen Electra and Angelina Jolie, of course) – she had never made that sound, that gasp that somehow infused their kiss with something so incredibly powerful that House, already hard as rock, grew harder still, and almost forgot his own name.

He promptly went insane.

He threw her legs around his waist, and pushed her up against the wall. As he did so, his hands covered the perfection that was her legs, and even though he was a fucking brilliant doctor and a frickin genius, her legs were long and smooth and just fucking perfect and they fit so wonderfully around his waist, it just felt so natural to be in between her thighs, and just awesome to have his tongue in her mouth, and it was just…it was just…

Fucking marvelous.

He craved more.

Needed more.

And like the addict he was, he took it.

He plundered her mouth. Kissed her with an intensity that would've surprised him, except he had been limping around with a hard on for this woman since he met her, and no matter what the distractions that he had placed in between them to keep her at arm's distance, no matter that Chase had had her first, no matter that he had been possibly the biggest douche to her – she still was here, up against the fucking wall in his fucking office and she was wet and panting and God, moaning as if his very kisses were giving her air and she was dying without it.

He freed her hair from her ponytail, and he called himself an idiot for the millionth time, because Jesus, her hair was so soft and thick, and growled into her mouth, because he had been denying himself of the feel of her out of stubbornness and stupidity and an irrational need to be miserable and just out of control unbridled idiocy.

His mouth found her neck, and her skin tasted like frickin glory. He used teeth and tongue as his hands almost destroyed her blouse in a desperate attempt to see what was beneath it. He wanted to taste the skin of her breasts, wanted to know their texture and shape – he wanted to make her come with her nipple in his mouth and rammed as deep inside her as he could possibly go.

And he wanted all of it now.

Then she said his name.

Breathed his name.

"House."

And he couldn't help himself.

"Problem, Dr. Cameron?"

He smirked into her neck, loving her reaction to him, loving this – her hair, her legs, her mouth – and he couldn't help but tease her further.

"Ya gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart. So we can make it better."

"H-H-House, please…"

"C'mon, little girl," he growled into the sensitive skin underneath her ear. "Tell me what you want."

She didn't answer, instead choosing to grind her hips against his, and the feel of her, the heat of her against him there – grinding against him like a pro, and she was moaning and panting and her legs and arms tightened around his body and as he freed her breasts from their confines he thanked the God he didn't believe in for front clasps. Her breasts were pink and beautiful and her nipples were flushed the most beautiful raspberry, and as his mouth closed over one while he palmed the other, Allison Cameron - his Allison, his Cameron – started to growl and shake and tremble and as he tugged her nipple with his teeth further into his mouth, her breath coming out in gasps and pants and as he further tugged her nipple into his hot mouth, she let out a breathless cry and came.

Hard.

And then he fucking lost his mind.

He reached underneath her skirt and ripped her panties to shreds, kissing her roughly and swallowing those fantastic noises that were still coming from her glorious mouth and as she desperately unbuckled his jeans – and fuck, finally – freed his hard cock from his jeans and boxers, and she took him in her hand and he almost came as she gripped him with her soft hands and he was so hot and hard and House growled against her mouth because he wanted more.

"More," he growled into her mouth. "More."

And then he pushed her higher up against the wall, and thrust himself into her body.

Holy. Fucking. Christ.

She was perfection personified – hot and wet and tight – and there was no other feeling like it. There was no high higher, no taste better, and as he rammed into her, every reason, every fucking excuse – every fucking lie – as to why it would never work with her, why his damage is the reason that she found him so attractive – flew out of his mind. She moved against him like she was born to do it, and Christ – her body felt like the only home that he had ever known. They were moving together like they had been doing this every night for the past twenty years – moving together in a dance as old as time and as sweet as candy. She had buried her face against his neck, sucking on the skin there as his eyes almost rolled in the back of his head with pleasure. She was going to kill him with her heat.

And he would walk into the gates of hell smiling.

Cameron whimpered, her muscles tightening around him as she neared climax. House fisted one of his hands in her hair, pulling her back so he could see her face.

She was gorgeous.

She was sweaty and panting, and her eyeliner was running and she didn't look like the professional Dr. Cameron, no - she looked like Allison, who was getting fucked into the wall by her asshole boss and coming unglued under his hands. Her nails were leaving bloody trails against his upper back, and he honestly hoped that he would have occasion to take off his shirt within the next couple of days so he can show those suckers off. He wanted to mark her, claim her, force himself so deep inside her that she would have no reprieve from him. He wanted to live under her skin¸ surround himself with her scent and her body and her. He wanted her around him, just like this – open and willing and quaking and he wanted her to always be able to see her like this – with her pretty breasts bouncing from his every thrusts, nipples colored and delicious and her neck long and soft and she was just fucking perfect.

God, why had he waited so long to do this? Feel this?

"House," she whimpered, arching her back so her nipples met the cotton of his shirt. "House."

He would give up everything he had – everything that he ever gave a shit about - give up the use of both legs - if he could hear her say his name like that for the rest of his life.

"Come for me," he growled, licking and sucking along the skin of her jaw to her mouth. "Come for me, sweet girl."

And like the honey she was, she did.

He kissed her, long and hard, as her inner muscles clutched him so tightly that House felt as if he was going to pass out from the pleasure. He didn't want to come yet, but she felt so good and hot and fuck, she was milking him for all he was worth and he couldn't help it because this was sofuckinggood.

And he came.

So hard.

He exploded inside of her, with her tongue in his mouth and his hands on her breasts. He could feel her milking him for everything he was worth, coming again as he filled her with his come.

"Greedy little girl," he whispered, against her mouth, as she purred, purred against him.

He had made Allison Cameron fucking purr.

He looked back at her, blissed out on sex and her and….

….she was staring back at him, with a small smile on her face and a secret in her eyes. She held his gaze, then looked back at the blood-stained carpet that he had fought Cuddy so hard for.

"Good night, House."

Then she was gone.