Brace yourselves kids, this is a smutty one! It does get a bit graphic toward the end. Not suitable for younger viewers. Please get a parents permission before reading. If you don't want to get your parents permission, well, just don't tell me about it. I have enough problems without adding corruption of minors to the list. :)

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Cuddy stood staring into the fire. The warmth against her skin and the brandy running through her veins left her head fuzzy. They had finished the steaks House cooked on the grill and her stomach felt comfortably full. The evening had been a pleasant one.

"Why don't you sit down?" House was laid out comfortably on the couch. The only thing missing was her warm body curled up against him.

"I was just thinking," her words faded away.

"This is no time for thinking. Come here." He held out his hand, waiting for her to take it. It was a vulnerable gesture, one that did not usually come naturally to him, but one that he couldn't stop, no matter how hard he'd tried.

She turned away from the fire and smiled at him. He could see she was buzzed, her eyes were soft and her smile wistful. She placed her glass on the mantel and took his hand gently. "I'm glad you invited me here House." She walked toward him slowly, steadily as if walking was no longer second nature to her.

"I'm glad you came." He was watching her with great interest. He had realized weeks ago that this thing, this relationship if that's what it was, had to go at her pace. He had hurt her before; he had toyed with her emotions too many times for him to be the one calling the shots. He didn't like it. He didn't like surrendering control to someone else, but he realized now that this was how it had to be. He had blown his chance to be in control. If he wanted to be with her now it was going to be on her terms.

He wasn't really sure which had been harder, admitting to himself that he was in love with her, or allowing her to know how he felt without his saying it yet. As much as he picked on her about it, he knew she wasn't stupid. She would not be where she was today if she wasn't one of the smartest women he'd ever known. She was savvy and knew how to play the game, and she usually knew when she was being played.

He searched her eyes for some sign, some clue that she knew he wasn't playing this time. He couldn't say the words until he knew she knew he was for real. It was a twisted, serpentine logic that could ruin everything, but it was him. He had to do things his way, at least as much as he was able.

"You look beautiful in the firelight." He was staring at her and realized he should say something. Small talk was not his strong suit, so he said the first thing he could think of, no matter how ridiculous he thought it sounded.

"Thank you," she smiled, lifting his arm and slipping gently beneath it. She pulled his arm around her arms and snuggled up against him. It was a position she could happily maintain for the night.

House sniffed at the hair that had fallen against his nose. "You smell nice too." He mentally kicked himself.

Cuddy laughed gently, trying not to. "You don't have to keep complimenting me House. It's a little unsettling." She was more used to T&A jokes from him.

"Then what do you want me to do?" He managed to free his other arm and pulled a piece of her hair out of his mouth with a spit.

Cuddy slipped her hand over her head, trying to control the frizz that must be tickling his nose. "You lived with Stacy for five years. You must know what to do when you're alone with a woman."

"We mostly argued." At least that's how he remembered it.

"Five years is too long to be together if all you're doing is arguing."

"We had great sex too." House grinned. She'd walked into that one.

"So I've heard." It was her turn to grin, though she was gazing at the fire and he missed out on the effect.

"You used to talk about my sex life?" House was interested, if not a bit worried.

"She was a close friend. Women talk about these things." Cuddy realized she probably shouldn't have said anything.

"Did you tell her about us?" It would explain a lot.

"No." There were some things women didn't talk about. Sleeping with each other's boyfriends was high on the list.

"So I was your dirty little secret?" House's hand was resting on her hip now. His thumb slipped up under the very end of her shirt, sliding back and forth along the waistband of her skirt.

"No. I just didn't see any reason to talk about it." She felt warmth wash over her as his thumb teased her waist.

"You could have given her tips." House was proud of himself for that one.

"You're not that complicated House."

"I most certainly am!"

"Not in bed." Of course, he'd been much younger then. Surely he had developed a bit more of a repertoire over the years, but she enjoyed having the opportunity to take him down a few notches.

"You don't insult a man's manhood. That's just cruel," House said, frowning. He thought he made more of an impression than that.

"You'll get over it," she teased.

"I never have," he mumbled softly, wistfully.

"Hmmm?" She hadn't quite caught that.

"The bedroom's just down that hall." He wanted to change the subject, quickly.

"That was subtle." She laughed.

"Why do you think I brought you here?"

"Because you love me." She was testing him. His reaction would answer a question she'd had for a while now. Did he love her, or was this just about sex?

Unfortunately, House was very good at hiding his true feelings, even though she'd completely blindsided him with that. "There you go, confusing love and lust again."

"Then why did you bring me here?" She turned to face him. He winced as her weight shifted on top of him and she accidentally hit his leg. He saw instantly the change in her demeanor and cursed under his breath. "Oh! Are you okay?" She looked panicked, frightened that she'd hurt him.

"Don't!" House pushed her hands away from him. Now she looked hurt. He saw the pain and guilt, in her eyes. The pain was new, the guilt was always there. "I'm fine," he said, defeated. The weekend was ruined. His body has once again betrayed him.

She had to fight the urge to push him too far, to ask if he was sure, to mother him and care for him. She knew he didn't like it, but it was instinct. She couldn't help herself. She loved him and she hated seeing him in pain.

She watched, trying to keep her face neutral, as he popped a few Vicodin in his mouth and chased them down with some brandy.

House let the brandy work its way slowly into his veins, easing his muscles and loosening the tight grip he had on his tongue. "I brought you here because I want you here." He still couldn't bring himself to tell her why.

"What does that mean House?" It was like pulling teeth, trying to get the smallest fragment of information out of him. She thought she knew what he was not saying, she wished she was right, but she wouldn't allow herself to believe it, not until she heard the words come out of his mouth. She didn't want to set herself up for a fall, if she was wrong.

"It means I want you to come with me to the bedroom." He rose to his feet as he spoke and held out his hand to her. He held his breath as he waited for her to take it.

Cuddy realized that she couldn't force House to say something he wasn't ready to say. As much as she wanted to continue to discuss his feelings for her, she knew it was pointless. Once he clammed up, there was no prying him open. She had a choice to make. Accept what he was offering, or walk away.

She looked into the deep blue pools of his eyes and realized she couldn't walk away. She extended her hand and rose to her feet.

House felt nervous. His palm was getting sweaty. He wanted to pull his hand out of hers, wipe it off on his shirt, but he didn't dare. She might not take it back. He tried to fool himself into believing she didn't notice that he was clutching her too tightly, that his hand was threatening to slip out of hers with the lubrication of his nervous sweat, but he knew better. She was perceptive, too perceptive. She knew.

He led her quietly to the bedroom. His leg ached with each step and he was glad he was walking in front of her, so she couldn't see his face wince with pain. She was, however, aware of his pronounced limp, though she knew better than to say anything. Instead she followed him in silence.

"This is where the magic is about to happen," he said, flipping on the light switch and stepping aside so she could see the room. A large bed sat in the center of the room, four heavy posts stood at each corner. A stone fireplace lined one wall and two heavily curtained windows filled the opposite. That was about all Cuddy saw before she leaned across House's quick beating chest and flipped the light off.

"We don't need that," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself up to his mouth. She had always liked tall men, something about the vulnerability she felt having to look up to them excited her.

"What do we need?" He asked, slipping his hands under her shirt.

"You need to shut up," she replied, kissing him deeply.

His hands slipped up her back, stopping briefly on their journey to fumble with the clasp of her bra. He popped it open with two fingers and she felt the fabric loosen around her chest. She pushed herself tighter against him as his hands continued up. His forearm had caught her shirt which was rising up her back. The cabin was cool inside and the night air whispered across her flesh swiftly.

She shivered against him and he pulled her away. "I won't let you stay cold for long," he said as he pulled the shirt up over her head.

"You'd better not," she warned, burying herself in his arms.

"You are so beautiful," he lamented as his hands ran down her arms, feeling her soft flesh, making sure she was really there, in his arms.

"You said that already." She didn't want him to talk. She wanted him to kiss her, and keep kissing her while he made passionate love to her. They could talk later.

"I thought women liked hearing that." He dragged his tee shirt up over his head and threw it too the floor. His chest and his arms were the two parts of his body he was most proud of. One of the better side effects of the infarction was a dramatic increase in the muscle tone of his upper body. He hadn't looked this buff since his lacrosse days at high school, only then his muscle was built on top of a nerdy thin frame. He had filled out, as a man, since then. He looked good, from the waist to the neck.

"All I want to hear is you panting breathlessly on top of me." When Cuddy wanted something, she didn't beat around the bush. She was ready now, and she was making sure House knew it. She didn't want him to hesitate, to worry that she wasn't ready or that he was pushing her away. She wanted him now and she was going to have him.

"I can do that." House liked this more aggressive woman. The Cuddy he had known in college, the Cuddy he had made love to back then hadn't been quite this aggressive. Forward, yes, she had always made it known when she wanted something, and she had always gone after it, but back then, she had been more…gentle.

Almost as if to prove she was no longer that gentle girl, Cuddy shoved him onto the bed so forcefully that his body bounced slightly on impact. If the bed hadn't been extra soft she would have knocked the wind right out of him, not that he cared.

He watched excitedly in the shadowed room as she mounted him, her legs straddling his thighs. He noticed that she was careful not to put her weight on his scar. He mistook her fear of hurting him for repulsion of his physical deformity. It didn't bother him as much as it would have had her fingers not been deftly unzipping his fly at that moment.

He gulped nervously. He had been flying solo ever since their kiss. He had tried to entertain himself with hookers, but found it hard to get beyond a little oral stimulation. His mind always wondered to Cuddy and what she would think if she knew. It had been only a couple weeks, but he felt rusty. What if he couldn't live up to her expectations?

That was why he hadn't wanted to wait. The more time passed, the more her memory of their time together would become romanticized. The expectations would grow exponentially with each passing night they spent in separate beds. He hadn't needed to impress a woman in bed for a long time. The stakes were different than they were with a hooker who only wanted her money at the end of the night. Cuddy wanted a lot more from him than his money.

"I'd much rather see you naked." House reached out to grab her, but she pushed him back down. Then she rose to her feet and peeled off the rest of her clothing, slowly, tauntingly. He ached to reach out and touch her, but he was also enjoying the show.

"You never were any good with patience." She tossed the last piece, her pink satin thong, at his head. He caught it and held it bundled in his large hand. He planned on keeping it as a souvenir.

"Maybe we'll just have to play doctor and you can teach me." He grinned. He knew that wasn't what she meant, but went there anyway.

"I could teach you a lot of things." She was once again on top of him, this time quite naked. She slowly stalked the length of his body, crawling on her hands and knees above him. He had to remind himself to start breathing again as all the oxygen in his body abandoned him to whatever fate she had in store.

"Please do." He doubted there was anything she could teach him that he didn't already know, but he was willing to fake it.

"Well, let's start with making the patient feel comfortable." She rested herself carefully on his stomach, her legs on either side of him. He could feel the tuft of hair against his skin. It made him ache to feel it just a few inches farther down, but it was a good ache, one he hadn't felt this strongly in a long time, and he was willing to let it fester and build inside him until he was unable to control it. She'd just better be very careful or she would have an atomic explosion on her hands.

Cuddy leaned over him, her breasts hanging into his face. One nipple hovered over his mouth and he let his tongue slip stealthily out to greet it. Cuddy flinched as the wet tip of his tongue brushed across her not yet hard nipple but she did not pull away. She was fluffing his pillow, pretending to make him more comfortable.

House reached his hands out and grabbed her ass, which had to lift off him for her to reach behind his head. She sat up quickly and slapped his hand away. "Every doctor at some point has to deal with an ornery patient." She pinned his arms beneath her strong legs.

"Don't you mean a horny patient? I bet you get a lot of those." House licked his lips, not in some attempt to be seductive but because his mouth was achingly dry all of a sudden.

"I know how to deal with horny patients." She smiled proudly down at him.

"By all means, show me how you do it."

"All in good time." She had noticed a glass, a pitcher of water and an ice bucket set up. House must have snuck in and set that up earlier. He couldn't have imagined how it was going to come in handy. "First we have to check for a temperature." She smirked.

"You are NOT shoving a thermometer up my ass!" House was all for roleplaying, but he had to have rules.

She laughed lightly. "I don't need one. I'm that good." She leaned over and pressed her lips to his sweat beaded forehead. "You're burning up."

"You don't have to be a doctor to figure that out." He was frustrated with being pinned down, but he was so turned on by the game that he fought with himself to remain still, at least for now. He was curious how far she was willing to take this.

"I'm going to have to cool you down." She reached over and pulled an ice cube out of the bucket. "It's a good thing the nurse came and prepared your room."

House grumbled. He wanted to protest her mockingly calling him a nurse, but he didn't want her to stop or this to degenerate into an argument like things between them usually did, so he bit his tongue and shivered as drops of icy water fell onto his chest.

"I know it's cold, but it's for your own good." She carefully touched the ice to his skin and glided it slowly over the swell of his well formed chest. She could feel the ice melting in her fingers as she moved it down along his aorta thoracica.

"For your own good is the sadist definition of torture." House's body contorted itself as his flesh chilled.

She laughed again. It was a soft, gentle sound like a small ringing bell. Sometimes it could sound like music, other times it could grate on ones nerves. At the moment it was grating on his frozen nerves terribly. "You think I'm a sadist?"

"You certainly seem to enjoy torturing me." House watched, enthralled, as she placed the melted ice cube between her lips and sucked on it gently. It was a torture almost more unendurable than the ice on his chest. He longed to be that cube. He wanted to feel her lips caressing him and sucking on him with as much passion as she was sucking on that small piece of ice.

She was thinking. The sucking was just something to distract her from House as she did. It was an absent minded gesture. She always thought better when she had something in her mouth. Her sister used to tease her mercilessly about it, when they were both old enough to understand the double meaning of oral fixation.

"But sadists like to see their victims in pain. I don't like seeing you in pain House. I just like tormenting you." She stuck the ice cube, now more of a small ice blob, half way out of her mouth and bent over him. With it still lodged between her lips she slid the ice over his nipples, one at a time. He felt the double torment of her lips gently gliding over his skin and the sting of the ice burning his hot flesh.

He struggled beneath her. The tormenting was over. He wanted his power back. But she was stronger than she looked, and was easily able to keep him down. He was curious where she'd learned exactly how to position herself so that he couldn't use his considerable size advantage against her.

"It looks like our patient is getting agitated. I hope I don't have to tie you down."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, you SADIST." He was going to use that word repeatedly, just to drive his point home.

Her answer was a huge smile. House's reply to that was a resigned scowl.

"That's better. Now, you're going to have to take your medicine."

House's eyes widened as his mind raced through all the worst possible connotations of that threat.

"Now be a good boy and open wide."

"No!" House was done playing along. If she wanted an ornery patient, she was about to get one.

"Oh, come now, Dr. House, you know I'm only doing this to help you."

"Unless you're about to toss a handful of Vicodin down my throat, I am NOT letting you medicate me."

"You'll do as you're told." She glared down at him. Her body language was tough, but there was a twinkle in her eye that he hadn't seen before. She was really enjoying this.

"Yes ma'am." House would never admit it, but he was enjoying it too.

Once he stopped his protests, Cuddy leaned in and let her mouth hover centimeters from his. She could feel his breath on her lips. It was coming fast and hard. She could feel him struggling not to move toward her. He was trembling against her. But it wasn't all one sided. She felt her body aching for him. Her breath was stuck in her throat.

It wasn't that they hadn't kissed before. They had, plenty of times, but the longing had not yet worn off. There was still a deep hunger, a need that pulsated between them. Would consummating their relationship again diminish that longing? She had to stop thinking like that. Seize the moment.

Her lips finally pressed against his and the explosion of both of their bodies made the bed shudder beneath them. House forced his tongue through the fortress of her lips like a charging army. She was vulnerable now, and he took advantage of the moment, pulling his arms from under her legs, wrapping them tightly around her body, pulling her down on top of him.

She did not struggle or protest. The game was over and she was content to surrender her control to him. Cuddy liked to be taken. He learned that early in their relationship. She liked the virility of it. She liked the weight of a man on top of her, his strength as he pulled her into his arms. But never against her will. He had also learned that early on.

He had started to take her for granted, as a lover. He assumed that whenever he wanted her, she would be ready and willing to service his needs. It was the arrogance of youth, the arrogance of being a legend in her eyes. He hadn't anticipated that she would not be in the mood.

They had gone to the library to study. He walked her home. She didn't need to invite him in. It was assumed, it was expected. But her mood was different. Where they usually burst through the door, lips locked, clothes being shed in a fury of desire, this time she had quietly stepped aside and let him in. He kissed her on what ended up being her cheek as she turned away. He didn't see her choke back her tears.

He should have been able to read the signs. If he hadn't been so caught up in his own desires, he would have realized something was wrong, but he didn't. He had not yet grown out of his own selfish needs. He thought, perhaps, she was playing hard to get, trying to spice things up. So he pushed her against the wall and held her face toward his, forbidding her to turn away.

It hadn't been the first time he'd done such a thing. Sometimes she did play with him, teasing him and leading him on, pushing him to the brink then letting him take her. But when she did that, there was a sparkle in her eye, a mischievous twinkle that let him know he wasn't overstepping. If only he'd noticed that there was no twinkle that night.

It was the beginning of the end for them. As he kissed her, deeply, without ill intent, but against her will, she struggled. When he pulled away, ready to question why she was reacting so ardently, she was crying.

"What's your problem?" He didn't mean it to sound so harsh, but it did and he couldn't take that back.

"I want you to leave." She couldn't tell him that she thought she was pregnant. It would turn out later that she wasn't, it was only the stress of finals that made her period skip that month, and the news about her grandfather's cancer had caused the overeating that led to her gaining a couple pounds which she feared was baby weight, but that night, she believed it was true.

She was so young then, naive despite her experience. She had her whole life mapped out, and having a baby at nineteen was not part of the plan. She also didn't want to ruin House's life. She thought he would do the right thing. He would marry her and take responsibility for the child, but he would also grow to resent her and the baby. It was a life she did not want to live. She couldn't tell him, and condemn them both to her worst nightmare.

It was now twenty years later. She had never told him what was wrong that night. If she had, he might not have turned to her roommate. He had been so hurt by her pushing him away, so confused, he thought she didn't want him any more, he thought that if she saw that someone else did, she would change her mind. He didn't know the real reason she had pushed him away that night. He would never know.

"So, Doctor, what are you going to do now?" He had pinned her beneath him. It hadn't been easy, but he ignored the screaming pain in his leg and shifted his weight until she had no choice but to fall off to her side, and then he trapped her under his weight. "How do you handle it when a patient gets the upper hand?"

He pulled her arms up over her head. She looked most beautiful when she was flat on her back, naked, and looking at him the way she was now, with a passionate desire that would not be stopped until it had been worn out of her with vigorous sex.

"Normally I'd push the emergency button and have a nurse shove a needle in your ass." She was still feisty. He liked that about her.

"Hmmm." There was certainly something he'd like to push up her ass, but he thought it might be too soon to mention it.

She felt uneasy. "What was that for?"

"What was what for?" He put more weight on her. She was quick, and shifty. He couldn't let his guard down for a second.

"That look." She had been breathing heavily since he fought for supremacy. Now her breathing was falling back into a steady rhythm and her mind began to calculate ways to get back on top.

"What look?" He feigned innocence.

"That look you get when you're thinking up something that will cause me a lot of grief." She saw that look on a weekly basis, at least. It was a look that had saved many lives, but also cost the hospital millions in law suits. She secretly loved that look, but she wasn't about to let him know that. It would only make him harder to handle.

"Oh, THAT look." He smiled down at her. "Well, I'm about to do something to you, well, several things, I hope, that will cause you a lot of grief."

She frowned.

"Oh, don't worry," he ran a finger along her jaw line and across her soft, moist lips. "It won't hurt…much."

"HOUSE!" Her eyes grew wide and she gulped back a big lump of fear.

"It's your turn to play patient. Let's see if I learned anything." He wasn't sure he had the leg muscles to pin her down the way she had him, so instead he tied her wrists to the headboard with the his shirt, which was the only bit of clothing within reach. "It's for your own good," he told her patronizingly as she protested and squirmed beneath him.

"What are you going to do to me?" She fretted.

House looked down at her and a slow, evil smile crossed his face. "Anything I want to do to you." He wasn't going to hurt her, he just wanted to toy with her a little, the way she had toyed with him.

"I'd better check your vitals." He smirked. "That's what a GOOD doctor does." He was letting her know she'd missed that part.

His large hand cupped her right breast and applied a little pressure down on it. "I don't feel a heartbeat."

"My heart is on the other side you idiot!"

House grabbed her other breast with his other hand and squeezed it tightly. "Oh, there it is. I guess you're not heartless after all."

"Very funny." She was not amused. Turned on, but not amused. She felt his fingers kneading the sides of both breasts. "What are you doing now?" She kind of liked it.

"Breast exam. Very important for women past a certain age." He felt her nipples starting to harden against his palm. "Okay, nothing there. I think we're ready for a more thorough examination now."

"How thorough?" She gulped nervously.

"Very thorough." He was sliding his body down hers, so that he was sitting over her legs, looking along the length of her.

She felt a rush of excitement as she thought of what he might do. House was a very creative lover. There was no end to the pleasure he could cause if he wanted to. There was also no end to the torment he could cause if he wanted. She had to make sure he wanted to cause her pleasure.

"Open wide." He smirked. He wasn't talking about her mouth and she knew it. Her legs parted just slightly. "Wider," he instructed, and she did.

He went to the ice bucket, hoping that there was more than just a puddle of former ice cubes left. The ice had held up surprisingly well so he pulled out the biggest cube he could find and let it drip down onto her chest. "Oh, I spilled some." He leaned over and licked the cold water off her breast slowly. His warm tongue circled her nipple before he was finished.

"What are you planning on doing with that?" She tried to close her legs instinctually, but he had put his full weight down on them and she couldn't budge.

"I think you know, doctor." He guided the cube down her body, from her erect breasts over her flat, smooth stomach, and along her private hair line. That's when she started to quiver, the anticipation of what he was about to do washed over her body and caused a small quake. "Just relax," he said, placing a hand on her stomach as if he were holding her down. "It won't take long."

The ice cube slipped down into her hair and slid between her soft lips. She gasped as the cold sensation rose up through her body. House wasn't deterred. He pressed deeper with the ice cube, penetrating the tight fissure between her legs.

The ice was melting quickly. A small trail of cold water trickled down her leg. Cuddy arched her back, willing him to go deeper, curious to know what it would feel like to have the ice penetrate into her. House was more than willing to oblige. He was enjoying watching her body react to his movements, watching her head, eyes closed, tossing from side to side as her body twisted and contorted.

"OH!MY!GOD!" Cuddy couldn't take it anymore. "Oh God! Stop!" She wasn't sure she meant it.

"I'm God now?" He eased up, slipping the ice cube back up her body.

"That's not what I meant."

"It will be." With that, he went down on her. His tongue flitted in and out of her, tickling her clitoris with each flick. He didn't stop until she cried out, calling him God once again. "Do you mean it this time?" He asked teasingly, his finger slipping in and out of her casually.

"Yes, damn you, YES!" She had surrendered. "Now let me go, so I can worship you properly." It actually worked. House got up and untied the shirt sleeves that held her arms in place. She slipped her hands along his rapidly heaving chest tenderly. "Thank you," she said submissively, lulling him into a sense of triumph.

"You're very welcome." He rolled onto his back, waiting for her to return the favor. Instead, she curled up against him and made herself comfortable. "What are you doing?" He craned his neck and looked down at her.

"I'm going to sleep." Her words were breathed onto his bare skin.

"You owe me!" He was wide awake and ready to be taken.

"I don't owe you anything." She was half chuckling.

House stared at the ceiling. He realized he had just been used. No woman had ever used him for sex before. He couldn't help but feel a little proud. The pride, however, was buried under a big pile of frustration. "You owe me oral sex."

"I wouldn't have let you do it if I knew there'd be strings attached." She was circling one of his nipples with the tip of her finger.

"Let me? LET ME? There wasn't anything you could have done to stop me."

"And yet, you stopped." She kissed his chest sweetly.

"I stopped because I got you off. And now you have to get me off." That's how it worked. Didn't she know this?

"Maybe tomorrow." She was sleepy, and he still hadn't said he loved her, so it was really him who owed her, at least in her mind.

"Tomorrow! Maybe!" Those were fighting words.

"Goodnight House." She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek so sweetly that it diffused him. He couldn't force her to do what he wanted. He could tell by her eyes that she didn't want him to. She wanted to win this round and she had.

He let her fall asleep, curled up in his arms, one leg draped over his midsection. He absentmindedly stroked her thigh, breathing in and out slowly, practicing the words he meant to tell her this weekend in his head. He was going to do it, damn it. He was going to say it, and then she would give him everything he wanted. Tomorrow…maybe.