Another short one, but one of my favorite pure smut stories. Again, this is slightly different than my usual stuff, in that they are already kind of together, albeit secretly in this one, so it is purely about the sex, and not so much the angst.

THE GARAGE

Cuddy walked through the parking garage to her car. It was late, as it usually was when she left work.

"Need a lift?" His voice startled her. It was House, leaning against a brand new Harley.

"Where'd you get that thing?" She couldn't believe her eyes.

"Just got it. Isn't it cool." He ran a hand along the leather seat.

"Real cool." She didn't sound impressed.

"Oh, come on, Cuddy. One spin around the block." House had been dying to show off his new crotch rocket. Normally he would show it to Wilson, but his best friend was having a dinner party with all his wife's snooty friends. Wilson's marriage was shaky enough right now without House showing up on his doorstep. Cuddy was the next closest think House had to a friend.

"I've seen you drive a car, there's no way I'm getting on that thing with you."

"Perhaps I can change your mind." House walked over to her. He took her hand and led her toward the bike. "Feel that leather." He ran her hand along the bike seat. Pleased that she wasn't putting up a fight he maneuvered her around so that she was now leaning against the leather seat.

He moved one hand to her leg, and let it slide up her skirt, around to the back of her thigh, and finally to her smooth round ass. He slipped his fingers under the light silk of her knickers and was rewarded with the soft touch of her skin. He pulled the hand toward him, pushing her body to his. They were now very tightly pressed together. His other hand brushed her long raven hair over one shoulder, baring the milky whiteness of her neck.

"We can't do this here." She whispered in his ear as his mouth explored the length of her neck.

"We can't stop now." He whispered back, nibbling her earlobe when he was done.

He knew she would make his stop if he didn't push the button. Every woman had a button, that one thing that would driver her nuts; make her putty in a man's hands. House had made it his personal mission to find Cuddy's button. It was remarkably simple. She was his with just one kiss.

Not just any kiss, though. It had to be deep, long, full of passion. House worked his mouth along her neck, across her cheek, and just inches from her mouth. He could feel her catch her breath. Her head turned to him. He could see the hunger in her eyes.

He teased her a little, keeping his mouth out of her reach. He smiled tauntingly, knowing it would drive her wild. She couldn't take it any more. She grabbed his head and pulled him to her. She wanted to control him, but he fought it. This was his game, and he was going to do the controlling. He saw the fire in her eyes. She was his.

Knowing that she would no longer complain about their local, he went in for the kill. His mouth met hers with urgency. He slid his tongue between her open lips, and let it explore the sweet warmth of her mouth.

He slipped his hand farther into her knickers. She twisted around and pressed closer to him. He slipped a finger inside her. He could feel himself rise against her. He closed his eyes and felt her mouth press into his. Her tongue thrust into his mouth like an invasion. It was hot and wet and strong, circling his and making him dizzy.

House had to have her now or he would loose his mind. Her hands taunted him, running up and down his body, tearing at his clothes as they went. With her skirt up around her waist, and his pants at his ankles, he pushed into her. She wrapped her legs around him tightly, sitting on the bike and forcing him deeper inside her, then she began to move around, slowly, then quickly then slowly again.

Still inside her, he fired off his first blast. She would not let him go, and he didn't want to be let go. He took charge, thrusting harder and faster. She was on fire. He knew she wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. He couldn't wait for the explosion.

Her breath was coming faster, she threw her head back, then down against his chest. She was kissing his neck, his ear, his cheek, his mouth. Each thrust caused her to catch her breath. She was letting go. He reached over and turned on the motorcycle. It was a tricky maneuver, but the results were worth it. Cuddy was thrown into ecstasy as the bike vibrated underneath her. She threw her head back one last time, and let out an uncontrollable gasp as the motorcycle died.

House nearly collapsed with his final release. His head fell onto her shoulder, and he pressed against her, nearly sending the motorcycle crashing to the ground. He felt her fingers running through his hair, and caressing his neck with her soft mouth. Her heart was racing beneath his.

"So," she said, after a long moment of silence, "about that ride?"