Warning: This chapter is smut-HEAVY.
Roommate Rules
Final Statements
Wilson sat on the couch in House and Cuddy's apartment, flipping through a magazine impatiently. It was 8 o'clock and neither of them were ready to go out. "Guys! Come on!"
They both came out at the same time. Cuddy was wearing a sequined black dress that barely covered both her ass and her boobs. Her hair was up, but she'd tousled it to look more casual. When she saw House, she looked pissed.
House had dressed himself in ripped jeans and a t-shirt. He took in her four inch heels and bright red lips and nearly choked on his own spit. Seeing her like that made him angry that he couldn't kiss her and claim her as his, but he hid it. He shook off the arousal and looked at Wilson, who was staring too. "Oh, close your mouth Jimmy," he said to him.
He then walked over to Cuddy and placed his hands on her shoulders. "You are way too overdressed for this. We are going to a bar, not a strip club."
"I wouldn't wear this to a strip club," she said, as if she would go to a strip club. The annoyed look she gave him made him even hotter for her.
"A stripper would," He said.
She smacked him on the check and her face flushed. "I thought we were going to a club."
"You think Princeton has a club?" He laughed at her and it only embarrassed her more. He could feel the heat coming off the skin on her shoulders.
"I don't know-"she took a deep breath and almost looked like she was going to cry.
"I have a solution," Wilson said. "We can go to the Cardinal."
"Ughhhhh," House pretended to groan. He took his hands off of Cuddy. "Fine." He actually liked the music there.
"What's the Cardinal?" Cuddy asked.
Wilson stood. "It's a classyish bar that's got live bands. You might want to dress down a little," He suggested and then pointed to House, "And you're going to need to dress up."
"I look fine!" House exclaimed.
"Just do it," Wilson shot him an angry look. "Cuddy got all dressed up for her last night in this apartment. You can put on a clean shirt."
House was about to complain that his shirt was clean, but he went back in his room, knowing the faster that they could get out of there, the faster he could get laid and forget about Cuddy. First, he took off his clothes and put on a pair of dark blue jeans. He sifted through the shirts in his closet. They were all fine to wear.
He thought about how Wilson had looked at Cuddy in her dress and a wave of jealousy passed through him. He tore a light blue shirt off from the hanger. He sat on his bed and held onto it tightly, not putting it on quite yet. He wondered if Wilson and Cuddy would get together after she left. He wondered if he would ever see her again. Hopefully not, he thought bitterly.
Wilson and Cuddy wouldn't work. He wasn't her type. He was too easy, too nice. He wasn't House.
But Wilson was good for her. He'd be everything that House couldn't. He wouldn't sleep around. He'd be polite and gentle in bed. He could tell her that he loved her. If it wasn't Wilson, it'd be another guy who she'd marry and lose herself to.
What a pity, he thought. She really had a great personality. He'd admit that he loved to talk to her, especially to fight with her. But if she married a weak man, she wouldn't have anyone to push back against her. She'd become dull in her wits. She'd think things like interior decorating and Danielle Steel novels were interesting. She'd cede passion for normalcy, which was fine.
Not for him, though.
He heard her come out of her room, and Wilson said, "Gorgeous."
He walked over to the door and listened from his room.
Cuddy said, "I can't, Wilson." She lowered her voice to a whisper, but House could still hear her. The walls were wonderfully thin. "I want to want a relationship with you, but I don't."
"Atta girl," House said under his breath.
"Really?" Wilson said. "I thought you liked me."
"I do," she said, her voice a little whiny with pity. "You're a great friend to me."
"Don't you want to be with someone who's your friend?" Wilson implored. "That's why I want to be with you."
"What about Sam?" She sighed.
"We're not friends anymore. We've just been together for so long…that's all we are- people who've been together, people who have a past. You and I could have a future," he said.
Good speech, House thought. He knew that Wilson could be charming. It sounded like he and Cuddy were inches apart. He could hear it in their breaths.
Cuddy took a long time to speak again, "Theoretically, I think we would be perfect for each other. But practically, I can't make myself love you." He heard a suction noise as she kissed him apparently. "I'm sorry. If you don't want to be friends, I understand."
"Just give me a shot." This time, Wilson kissed her.
God, Wilson, give it up, House thought. He smiled to himself. She was smart. He didn't think she was wise enough to say no to a guy that she genuinely didn't feel for. She'd rejected House based on logic, but she rejected Wilson based on feelings? She must know that she was fine on her own.
He stuck his thumb in his mouth and bit on the nail. Her independence only made him want her more. Soon, soon, he would have sex and forget about her.
"No, please stop kissing me. I don't want it."
House sucked in a breath. If he heard Wilson kiss her again, he might have to go in there and punch him. In fact, he thought he might like to punch anyone who kissed Cuddy. For a moment, he worried that this meant he was attached to her.
Of course he was attached. She was the best sex he'd ever had and he didn't want to share that. It didn't mean that he loved her or cared about her.
"Okay. I'm sorry," Wilson said. He walked over to the opposite side of the room.
"What is taking House so long?" Cuddy said.
House took this opportunity to put his arms through the shirt and move away from the door. Cuddy opened the door. Her eyes went straight to his chest, as he hadn't buttoned it up yet.
"You ready to go?" She swept her hair out of her eyes. She's let some of it down so it was half up. He could barely see some of her dress, but he could tell it was more modest than before and it was some color of green.
"Yes. Sorry I can't make myself hot as fast as you can." He buttoned his shirt as fast as he could. He wanted to see more of that dress.
She rolled her eyes. "Hurry up." She threw open the door and turned around to exit.
His mouth went dry. The dress dipped in the back and it went low. He remembered running his lips over that back, biting her, forcefully pressing his chest against it when he pounded into her from behind.
He groaned, forgetting that she could hear him.
"What?" She whipped her head around. Her eyes were dark, lined in the same color as her dress.
"Nothing." He straightened his shirt, ruffled his hair.
"How do I look?" She scrunched her hair and gave him a mocking look.
"Fuckable, darling." He put a hand on her back and kissed her temple. His eyes squinted in exasperation.
She was confused and visibly shaken. "Thank you?"
"That's the best compliment you'll ever get from me."
"I'll take it." The mood was set- they were going to be cordial on this last night.
She sauntered into the living room and announced to Wilson, "We're all ready."
The Cardinal was already packed with people dancing and drinking. The lights were red and low and the music was jazzy. It had been awhile since Cuddy went out. It was still fairly early in the evening; people weren't too crazy, but she was still nervous. She'd wanted to come to keep an eye on House, but it was turning into something entirely different.
He was being nice to her.
It started when she'd heard about what he said to the dean, and to one of the chairs of the hiring board. It shocked her, and truthfully, she still didn't know what to think about it. He'd lied and played with her feelings when actually he'd saved her job. Then, when they were getting ready, he seemed taken by her. It pleased her because she dressed up for him, and, in the event that he decided to go after another woman, she was dressed for any man whose arms she could fall into first. She was giving herself a free pass to be slutty to get over him.
House was the first person to approach the bar. "I'll buy your first drink," he told her.
Again with the niceness. It was creeping her out.
"I'll have a scotch on the rocks," he said, "and the lady will have a screaming orgasm," he winked at her.
She squeezed the clutch that she was holding in horror, but thinking, 'At least he's back to his old self.'
"You're not going to buy my drink?" Wilson asked, smiling.
"Oh, of course." House made another motion to the bartender. "And a cosmopolitan, please and thank you."
"How polite," Cuddy said, taking her drink.
"You know me," House bumped his drink against hers. "Cheers." He took a swallow and she sipped it.
"Oh, that's not how to do it. It's meant to be a shot." His hand covered hers and he brought the drink back up to her lips and tilted it up.
She swallowed all of it, but not all at once. His eyes were on her face and neck and then the drink was gone and so was his hand.
"Good girl," he said.
She was beginning to feel the effects already, getting a little dizzy.
"Now," he said, "I've delivered you a drink and a screaming orgasm within three minutes. I've done my part for the night. Off you go to the men." He turned her around and smacked her on the butt.
She didn't know what to do, but walk forward. She found herself alone at a table and stood there.
"Wait, Cuddy," she heard. Wilson pushed through the crowded bar. "Here." He sat the cosmo down in front of her. "I don't want it."
"Thanks." She took a sip. "I thought maybe House wanted to hang out with me tonight. Guess not." She wanted to talk to him one last time. She wanted something to happen so that he could redeem himself. She knew he could love her in secret, but she needed him to say it to her face, so that she could be absolutely sure.
"Well, remember, he's on a mission to have sex and forget about you."
"It worked so well the last time." She smirked at the thought of House not being able to have sex with another woman.
"If he finds someone slutty enough and forces himself, it'll happen," Wilson was practically yelling over the music.
"He shouldn't have to force himself," Cuddy thought out loud. She was angry at Wilson. He was crushing her fantasy. It was probably beneficial that he was so blunt so that she didn't get too caught up in House and she didn't have a good time.
"Do you wanna dance?" Wilson asked.
She did, but she didn't want to lead him on. Luckily, her plan was falling perfectly into place at exactly the right time. "No, but I bet she will." She pointed to the entrance where Sam had walked in. "I called her."
"You shouldn't…" Wilson stopped himself. "Thanks."
"I'm going to go dance," Cuddy said. "If I get close up enough to the front, no one will notice that I'm dancing alone."
"I'm sure you won't be dancing alone for long," Wilson whispered to her. "Come find me if you need anything." He left to greet Sam.
She took two large swallows of her drink and noticed it was almost gone. She turned back towards the bar. She stopped when she saw House talking to a brunette. It actually kind of looked like herself, but this girl had straight hair and seemed taller. Her long legs stretched and brushed over House's. Hurt sank into her stomach and she felt her eyes tear up. She placed her drink back on the table.
He was smiling and she felt even worse. She couldn't stop staring at them. House leaned forward and she couldn't tell if he was kissing her or whispering something, but she couldn't stand it.
She felt worse than she ever did when they were sleeping together and she saw a girl leave his bedroom pissed off because he kicked her out. She felt worse because it was her last night and he wasn't doing anything. He was running out of time.
She turned around, emptying herself of the obsessive thoughts about him and walked straight into the crowd of dancing people. She buried herself in it until she reached the stage. She wiped the tears that had fallen onto her cheeks and started to sway her body to the beat of the song. The previous slow tunes changed to more upbeat. She rested her hands on the stage.
Not a minute passed until she felt a hand on hers. It wasn't rough enough to be House's. She looked at the man and smiled. He was cute. His skin was a darker olive and his hair was black and she thought maybe he was from somewhere in the Mediterranean.
"You-a want to dance?" He asked.
Italian. She turned, her hand grasping his and she nodded. She pressed her face into his white shirt and she smelled fragrant cologne. That, combined with the heat of the people, the drinks, the music, she'd almost forgotten about House and her lookalike.
It was not a coincidence that she looked like Cuddy. It was all part of his strategy to get over her. If he could find someone who looked like her, maybe it would be easy to do her, and abracadabra… he'd be over Cuddy.
She was smart too, like Cuddy.
But slightly cutthroat, unlike Cuddy. Apparently she was a lawyer and she was in the middle of a case. She was suing a small, local grocery store so the larger mass chain could profit more. "I mean," she was explaining, "these farmers are just cheating these people for higher profits. The food is ridiculously expensive. And they're often willing to sell out fast."
"Doesn't it cost farmers like a freaking fortune to produce organically?" House asked. "And I think the food just might be healthier without pesticides and steroids, but…just a theory! I'm just a doctor," he said sarcastically.
"Don't tell me you're one of those hippies who lives on nuts and seeds," She took a sip of her drink.
"How could you tell? Was it my leather jacket? Or is it obvious that I'm carrying a big hunk of meat around?" He smirked.
She lowered her voice, "I make it a point to eat a 'big hunk' of meat every day."
She could do innuendos. Brownie points for grocery girl. "Well, my meat is special," he told her, "you can't bite on it, but it has to go all the way down your throat. Swallowing is a must."
She was about to say something when someone bumped into her chair and moved it. He watched her as she seemed to turn into a completely different person. "Hey asshole!" She yelled even though the guy was standing right next to her. "Watch where you're fucking going! You coulda spilled my drink!"
House raised his eyebrows. Okay, she was a little psycho. He could still fuck her. He could do it.
"Sorry," she seemed really pissed off still. "What was I saying?" She took a deep breath, "Oh, I do bite a little so you might want to watch out." She smiled as if that was supposed to arouse him, but honestly, it scared him a little.
Cuddy never would have bit him. Her mouth was soft and she tightened it around him because she knew he liked it. When they were in bed together, she was always trying to please him, even at the expense of her own orgasm.
Damn it, was he always going to compare other women to her?
He thought back and tried to remember if he would have liked this woman before Cuddy. Maybe.
"What do you think?" She said, "You aren't scared, are you?"
"Well," He thought it was perfectly reasonable that he wouldn't want her to bite him and she should know that, "the thing is, if you bite my dick, I'm not going to be able to use it for a while, and I like to use it every day multiple times, so I think I'm going to have to veto the biting."
"It doesn't hurt that bad," She picked his hand up and brought it to her lips. She kissed it, and he was almost convinced until she pulled some skin through her teeth and clamped down on it.
He yelped, "Yikes!" He pulled his hand away as quickly as he could and rubbed it. "That hurt, you crazy bitch." He stood up. "There's no way in hell I am interested. I wish you the best of luck in finding a victim for your insane vampire fantasies. Good night." He picked up his coat and left in a hurry to the other side of the bar. He was pleased that she didn't follow him.
He scanned the room for his next attempt. Third time's the charm, he encouraged himself. Unfortunately, his eyes found Cuddy dancing the night away in the arms of another man. He didn't know what to do. They were so close together, and she seemed to be comfortable with him. Her face was pressed into his shoulder, his into her neck.
House was absolutely frozen watching them. He could only see one thing and he knew that no matter what happened- if she just finished one dance with that man, if they kissed, if he took her home and screwed her, that House would have to make her his again. He would take her and kiss her and have sex with her. But mostly just hold her because he knew that he had driven her away into this guy (and Wilson's for that matter) arms. She was with them even though she wanted to be with him and that was his fault.
He realized that as scared as he was to be with her, it was much more horrible without her, watching her dance with someone else, and almost getting his penis bitten off.
He was branded onto her- that's why she had came to live with him in the first place, but now she was branded onto him as well and until that moment, he was still burning and struggling against it. He had tried to escape loving her, but it had happened and now there was nothing he could do about it except wait.
Wait for her to leave her temporary lover. He picked a spot at a table and watched. Women approached him, but he snarled at them, "Not interested!" He gripped the table in anticipation. He did worry that she would reject him again, but that could not happen. Not when he was feeling like this, that he would do anything to have her back.
He pondered the stops that he would have to pull when something caught his eye. The man's hand had dropped from the open back of Cuddy's dress to her ass. He watched intently as Cuddy should her head, tried to move his hand. The man clearly wasn't hearing it. He was smiling one second and the next he forced his lips onto her.
House took off for the dance floor. He fought his way through the crowd, grabbing those in his way and shoving them to the side. He arrived at where she'd been a few minutes ago, but she was gone. He looked all around, but she was nowhere.
He searched for her in the crowd and then he saw her, sans the creeper. She was just a few yards away. Her eyes were watery and her lips and neck were red, like they'd been chewed on.
He was flooded with anger and lust and love all at the same time. She took the first step towards him, and that was it. Within seconds she was buried in him, her arms around his stomach. He was arrested in joy that she had forgiven him and wanted him. They stood like that for what felt like an hour. One of his arms came up her back, the other across her shoulders protectively holding her to him. She'd only cried for a few minutes and then started kissing his chest. It probably irked the other dancers that they weren't moving, but he didn't really care. She'd moved from his chest to his collarbone to his neck.
He was actually trying not to get hard because he wanted to prolong things, but he wasn't as in control as he'd like to be. He knew she had to feel it. Every inch of their bodies was pressed together. She didn't seem to mind, not scolding him or anything, but they couldn't very well have sex on the dance floor.
He'd missed her and now he was allowed to hold her again and his dick was ruining it. "Not ready," he wanted to say, "Come back later." He tried to slow his body down by running his lips softly through her hair. It didn't work and she noticed how he desired her. She untangled them, holding onto his hand and dragged him through the crowd. She pulled him to the bar and there was a door beside it. She checked to make sure the bartender wasn't looking and they headed into the hallway and immediately took the stairs down to the basement of the bar.
Did she know where she was going? He didn't care. He needed to touch more of her again, have more of her touching him. She opened a closed door. Lucky guess. It was a closet. Or a very tiny office, he thought, since there was a desk and a chair. She mounted herself on the desk and he stood in between her legs. Her dress was stretchy and easily hiked so he could press into her pelvis. He lowered his head to hers, not kissing yet. Their noses bumped into and grazed each other. He looked into her eyes and was satisfied. He knew, as soon as he kissed her, he would be overcome with need and then it'd all be over.
He took time to memorize where they were at, willing the moment to stay forever so they didn't have to face the real world and what they'd done to each other in the past. Her arms remained around his neck, locking his head where it was, but his hands moved everywhere over her. They touched her thighs, feeling her skin that became increasingly hot as he moved inward. He grasped her hips, pulling at her hipbones so she was pressed harder against him. His palms skimmed up her sides, relishing every curve until he got to her back. He ran his hands all over it, and then buried them beneath the material of the dress so he could feel the top of her ass. It was much missed, he thought. He wanted to lift her up to cup it, but that would probably mean ripping her dress.
Her hands slowly found their way around his jaw and face. Their foreheads were getting sweaty from being pressed together, but they couldn't let go, couldn't stop looking at each other.
She made the first move, tilting her head up and placed her lips on the side of his nose, then under his nose but above his mouth. She baited him with her breath, hovering over his lips. The second she touched her lips to his he attacked forcefully. He pressed her back, back onto the desk until she couldn't go any further. His lips pushed into hers as hard as he could. He knew her head must be digging back into the wooden shelves behind them and he'd stop if she asked him to or gave any sign that she was hurt.
His tongue swept into her mouth, sliding and bumping against her own tongue. He leaned his neck back for a moment, breathed, and met her mouth again. He had to hold her up with one arm so she wouldn't fall back on the desk. He used the other hand to hitch up her dress as far as it could go and lifted her up so he could grab her ass. She was being completely held up by him and the shelf behind the desk. She had her arms over his shoulders, rubbing his back and running her fingers through his hair, sometimes pushing his head into hers to make him kiss harder.
He enjoyed holding her, knowing that she was completely tangled in him and had nowhere to go. She was completely his again, or she would be soon. He broke away and looked at her. She was so thoroughly kissed, he almost had to laugh. He set her back down on the desk. Her expression was a mix of need and relief. His own lips felt abandoned, but he paced himself. He cupped her cheek and just stared at her.
"Is everything all right?" She asked. They hadn't spoken to each other yet.
"Yeah." He kissed her shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"I'm…great." She laughed. "As long as you're here." She shivered, as his body wasn't as close to hers anymore, warming her.
"Yeah." He had to smile a little.
Her hands went into his hair again and dragged him back for more kisses. This time, he was soft, his tongue only meeting hers briefly. She pulled his bottom lip between hers and sucked. He lost himself in the kiss and he felt his legs buckle, which reminded him that he wanted to get on his knees at some point soon. He kissed her chin and the back of her jaw, by her ear. He saw that there was still a red mark on her neck. It looked like she'd been bitten too.
"Geez, were you dancing with a shark?" He nudged the bite.
"It's fine," she said, "You're here now."
Yeah. He ignored it and avoided her neck. He kissed his way down her shoulders and slipped off the straps of her dress. It fell easily to her waist. He sucked on her upper chest, teasing her. She leaned back, placing her hands on the table behind her, so her boobs were completely accessible to him. First, he ran his hands over them, her nipples peaking fast under his palms. He used one hand to guide a nipple into his mouth and the other squeezed her other breast.
"God, House," She tightened her legs around him.
He sucked hard, letting his tongue scrape over her nipple. He moved all over her breast, kissing ever bit of softness he could find.
"Switch," she sighed, and he did. He brought his hand up to his mouth to continue pinching her nipple. Then his mouth kissed over to her other breast and this time, he was a lot gentler, his tongue stroking the nipple like he would do to her tongue when he kissed her. He ran out of places to taste- it was all starting to taste like his saliva so he lowered himself to sit in the chair of the desk.
"No," She pulled his hair up, "Come back. I need you close to me."
"I'll be right back," he promised, slightly muffled because his mouth was against her thigh. He pulled her to the edge of the desk. It was perfect. He was staring right between her legs.
"Lift up real face." He pinched the sides of her panties and she complied. He didn't touch the crotch of her panties until he had them safely away from her legs. He wanted the first thing to touch her pussy to be his tongue. Her thong was soaked. He'd never felt a girl that aroused before. He just chalked it up to another thing she gave him that topped every other experience he'd had. At this point, he was getting unbearably hard, and he knew it wouldn't be any better when he started eating her out. She caught him stroking himself through his pants and she said, "Just come back up here."
"In a minute." It had been so long since he'd attempted to have such control of himself. He was enjoying the challenge.
He stared between her legs. He could see the dim light reflecting off of the wetness. He spread her legs and hooked them around his back. He pushed his tongue into her and closed his eyes. She was so fucking wet. It was all over his mouth the second he was in her. She was also off the desk- she'd bucked her hips up. Luckily, he'd evaded getting slammed in the nose, but now there was considerable pressure on his shoulders and back. He took his tongue out, "Down," he pressed her hips until she was sitting on the desk again. "Relax," he took her legs and put them to the sides of his shoulders so he could hold her down by her thighs. He rested his tongue on her clit and massaged it. She let out a loud groan. He watched her pressing her lips together, trying not to make noise.
"You want me?" He asked.
He slid his tongue back in her and made it his mission to lick up all of the wetness that he could. Of course, it would be impossible because the more he licked and swallowed, the wetter she got. Still, he worked hard and she tasted incredible. His hands held onto her hips and his thumbs stroked her hipbones under her dress. He loved the fullness of her thighs, the energy that she demanded from him. He kissed her clit, sucking hard.
"House!" Her voice strained to keep quiet, but needing to scream. She yanked on his hair and he had no choice but to stand. "Now, now," she said, frantic, reaching for his pants. "I'm so close."
He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and kissed her. "I know." He grabbed her hands, which had undone his button and zipper so his pants slid to his upper thighs. "Let me make you come."
"You can," she pointed out, her fingers hooking into the elastic of his boxers.
"No," He said. "With my mouth." He kissed down her neck, brushing over the sore spot with his lips. "Trust me."
Something in her eyes told him that she didn't. She didn't want to let go of herself enough to let him so up close and personal. She was still afraid she would fall for him, and then he'd leave or neglect her again.
So he waited for a moment. He hugged her in his arms, and the mess they'd made between her thighs touched the sliver of skin that she'd bared on his stomach. It was almost impossible not to shove his boxers down and just take her. But they'd done that before and she was never going to know that she was his unless he showed her.
"Okay," She said.
As soon as she gave him the word, he moved slowly back down to his chair. "Then you can have your way with me." He smirked.
She helped him down, her hands grabbing his side, his arms, his shoulders, before going behind her to hold herself up again. "Just hurry," she said, closing her eyes.
"Hey." He nudged her thigh with his nose. "You open those eyes and watch me."
She did, reluctantly, he noticed. Her eyes were pleading, her forehead wrinkled in what almost seemed to be pain.
He knew she had been on the edge for about five minutes now, not wanting to let go. She was so tense. "Relax, relax." He told her. She let out a long breath and he felt her thighs relax against the counter. "Good," he muttered to himself.
She tensed back up when his tongue went back in her. He moved his tongue like he did when he was kissing her and watched her to make sure she was watching him.
The look on her face was so intense, he almost couldn't hold her stare. "Please, please, please" she was saying, she threw her head back.
He wanted her to look at him so he swiped his tongue long and deep inside her and she was forced to return his gaze. He started to press against her walls, trying to find any spot that would please her. He curled his tongue upward and she gasped.
He sat up in his chair, muscled her legs down onto the desk. It allowed him to lick even deeper into her. Her arms were getting weaker; she was slowly lowering herself down onto the desk until she was on her elbows. High-pitched moans left her mouth and he brought one of his hands to her pelvis. He curled his tongue again up to the spot that she liked and used his fingers to rub it from the outside.
She screamed and he could see her eyes tearing up from the pleasure. He massaged her clit with the bridge of his nose, and he felt her surrender. Her muscles clamped down on his tongue hard. The look on her face- he couldn't describe it- it was need, shock, and bliss all at the same time. Most of the time, when he felt a woman orgasm, he could feel little impulses on his fingers or dick, but this time, she was squeezing his tongue. She stiffened and her legs shook. He had to hold his dick to stop from coming in his pants.
She was still contracting when he pulled out his tongue. He had to wipe his mouth off again. She'd slid off of her elbows to lie on the desk. She was completely out of breath.
He sat her back up and slid off her dress. It was just getting in the way now and it had to be annoying her. She regained strength and was able to sit up on her own. "I couldn't see there for a second," she gasped.
He smiled. He was rightfully proud. "I missed you," he admitted.
"We both missed each other. I think that much is obvious." She ran her fingers through his hair, this time much more gentle, soothing where she'd pulled before in her desperation. He stood up slowly. It felt like all of his blood was in his dick and that he was going to explode any minute. Her hair was all messed up and he pulled it out of its clip and ran his hands through it. He held her to him again. He pressed her head to his chest and pushed on her ass so she could feel his erection right on her clit.
"You need me," she said.
There was no point in assenting, what she said was obvious.
"Why are you still dressed and I'm completely naked?" She asked. "Doesn't seem right."
He begged to differ. If she was naked, everything was right. He began to take off his pants and she unbuttoned his shirt. "You didn't have to do that," He said.
"I want to feel you," she argued. She pressed her face against his chest and kissed him. She slipped the shirt off his shoulders, and he thought, well, now we're officially screwed if anyone walks in. They both reached for his boxers at the same time, but he was the only one able to take them fully off. She was mesmerized at his dick. "I was almost worried I'd never see your penis again," she joked, stroking him.
He grimaced and removed her hand. "You'd never have to worry about that. Just ask. I promise I'll let you see it."
"You're pretty hard," she observed.
"Yeah, well I haven't had this much foreplay in four years." Since they'd last dated.
She bit her lip and spread her legs, inviting him in. He saw her pussy open for him and he placed a hand on her thigh. There was a problem. They weren't perfectly lined up.
"It's just a little off." He grunted as his dick pressed into her stomach. "A little low."
"I can get on my stomach," she offered.
"No." He wasn't about to let her go, let her not face him. "Lean back a little." She got back on her elbows. "Scoot forward."
"Can you hold me?" She doubted.
"Puh-lease." It was perfect. Her ass fit into his hands and he could lower her just enough and control where he hit her. He pushed his dick into her very slowly, so they both could feel the drag and friction of her on him.
"Mmm," she hummed in delight. She found that she only needed on hand to steady herself and wrapped the other around his neck. She smiled at him as he concentrated and kissed him. He brought himself out just as slowly, inch by inch. The second time entering her was a lot smoother. He felt like she was burning him, the further he got coated in her juices. He squeezed her ass.
"You can go faster," she told him.
He wasn't doing his job. She shouldn't be able to talk. Luckily, he knew what angle to hit. He pretended not to hear her, moving out of her even slower. He withdrew completely from her, took a chance and shoved her back all the way down on his cock. Her legs tightened around him. "Fuck," she said. He knew he was hitting her a lot deeper than his tongue had.
Despite complaining that he wasn't going fast enough, she was sweating. His thumbs ran along the small of her back and it was damp. She had to work to keep her orgasm at bay and that knowledge made him thicken inside her. She had to feel him stretching her. Now, she appreciated his patient pace.
He held onto her, moving a little faster, setting a steady pace. She kissed him, their lips bumping with their movement. "Harder," she whispered.
"Stop complaining," he said through his teeth. He was sure her ass was getting red from the way his fingers were digging into it. He began lifting her up and dropping her onto his cock. It cost a lot of energy, but it was worth it because gravity made him even more powerful. He was hitting her right at that spot and her muscles clutched his dick.
"Yes," he hissed. Her muscles kept pulling on him. She got stronger as she got more aroused, and it was harder to move within her, so he settled for bouncing her on him. Over and over, it was fast and hurried because it was a much smaller movement.
"God," Her hand slipped, but luckily, he had a fantastic grip on her. She held onto his neck so the desk was no longer supporting her at all. She was simply in his arms as he drove deep into her. "You know…" her voice vibrated, "I love you."
He was near orgasm so he supposed he was allowed to say it. "I love you too."
He boosted her onto one arm and used the other hand to bring her face down to kiss him.
"Then, make love to me like you do" she said. "Or are you afraid of someone walking in?"
There was mischievousness in her eyes that suggested she said that just to push him over the edge. He thought about someone walking in, and seeing her wrapped around him, already fucked, and him with his face screwed up in intolerable pleasure. He plunged into her as fast as he could and moved her on top of him in a slightly slower rhythm that drove them both wild.
"Oh," her eyes rolled back and she closed her eyes as she came again. He almost felt bad, but he had to keep thrusting because he was so close. She trapped his dick in her and he emptied himself in her. They both fell back onto the desk and he pushed into her a couple more times. He didn't pull himself out of her until he absolutely couldn't feel any aftershocks of her orgasm.
He rolled off of her, but held her hand.
"Oh, God," she said, brushing her hair back. "We need to get our clothes back on."
"What's the rush?" He kissed her arm.
"We're in a public place," she laughed and he was glad that she didn't seem to regret what they'd done.
"I know. It's sooo hot." He sat up with her. "I'm glad we did this."
"Me too." She grabbed his face with her hand and kissed him on the cheek. "Where's my underwear?"
"It's not going to be much good to you. It's soaked through." He'd thrown it on a nearby table and he handed it to her.
"Ick."
"Here, let me throw it away, it'll surprise whosever office this is," he reached for it.
"No!" She held it close to her. "I don't want anyone doing anything funny with it. I'll just put it in my purse. Anyway, they'll be getting a big surprise with our ass-prints all over their desk."
"I wouldn't worry about it. It doesn't look like anyone's used this room in a while." He stood up and began to put on his boxers.
"Hey, wait. Can I use those to clean up?"
He laughed, "We can just use the restroom when we get back up there."
"It will be down my legs by then. Look, we've already stained the desk." She pointed to the wood where a small bit of semen had already dribbled out.
"My goodness, can't you keep my come in you for a minute?" He pretended to be annoyed.
"Like I can control that," she rolled her eyes. "It's your fault anyIway. What'd you do? Save up for me?"
"Maybe." He hadn't had sex, of course, and masturbation was difficult when he was trying not to fantasize about her. "Seriously though, with that vice grip you had on my dick, nothin' can get out of there," he said, wiping himself off first before offering her his boxers. She hopped off the desk and her legs shook. He caught her, smiling with pride.
"Thank you," she turned slightly red. She wiped the liquid off of the desk and between her legs. She tossed his boxers in the trash. "You'd better not commit any crimes here. They'll bring out the black lights and see your semen all over this room."
"It would have been worth it," He said to her. He was ecstatic that they were both leaving without underwear on. He pulled up his pants and re-buttoned his shirt.
"Can you help?" She held the back of her dress up to him and he tied it. "Ready to go back out?"
"No." Even though they'd just had sex and he was almost exhausted, he didn't want to leave. He placed an arm around her and kissed her softly.
"We have all night," she reminded him.
He kept his arm around her and held her hand. "I already want to touch you again."
"Let's make an appearance and then we can go home," she promised.
They trudged back up the stairs with her hand on his ass.
A/N: I might write an epilogue.
And/or a sequel with pregnant!Cuddy.
Okay. Here's my little rant about the season finale: No Cuddy, seriously? She didn't even go to the funeral. And then they play off Stacy as his long lost love? Stacy and Cameron, but no Cuddy. That is some batshit crazy stuff. It is like they don't care what I think.
Otherwise, it wasn't bad. House faking his death? Pretty classic.
See? I can't tell other people that or they think I'm crazy and too invested in a show.
If you have any interest in my sequel, let me know. As much as I write to fulfill my own creative juices, I need a li'l motivation.