After the benefit, House drove Cameron back to her home in silence. He didn't press the issue of Richard and didn't want to; he'd gotten the information that he'd wanted out of the maid and out of Cameron's behavior in front of her ex and his new toy tonight. When he dropped her off, he walked her to the door and told her goodnight. She gave him a small smile and thanked him before slipping inside.

He walked back to his car and watched as different lights in the house turned on and off as she made her way to what he assumed was her bedroom. She'd done so well tonight; he was almost proud of the way she'd handled everything with Richard. Seeing her tell off his ditzy date was just the icing on the cake, really. Once the bedroom light went out, House got in his car and drove home.

The only thing to greet him was darkness and silence, which he didn't mind, normally. He didn't really mind it all that much now, even. What he did mind was the fact that all he could think about was Cameron. How she'd acted, how she'd charmed … how she'd looked so damned delectable in that dress… He shook his head and turned on a light before settling in front of his piano.

His fingers ran absently over the keys before he decided that he needed a drink. The drink wasn't enough to calm him, so he played. The drink and the playing did nothing… He frowned and smacked his hand against the top of his beloved piano. He needed her. Now.

Cameron had barely drifted off to sleep when she heard the doorbell ringing. Sylvia and her husband were in the guest house, which meant Cameron would be answering the door. Knowing her luck, it was probably Richard.

She got out of bed and stepped into her slippers, pulling on a white robe and heading down the stairs to the front door. Whoever was there, they were horribly impatient. She looked through the peep hole and opened the door, stunned.

"House?" she asked, confused. "What are you doing here? I didn't leave anything in your car, did I?"

"No…" he told her slowly, stepping inside and pushing the door shut, locking it behind him. "You didn't forget anything." He took a step toward her and stopped, studying her for a moment.

"Well, then… Um… Why are you here?" Cameron asked uncertainly, feeling self-conscious with his blue eyes staring so intensely at her.

"I got home and started thinking," he told her quietly, reaching out and taking hold of her robe, pushing it slowly off of her shoulders, delighting when it fell so silently to the ground. "I took a beautiful woman to some benefit that I really didn't want to be at." She was wearing a white, satin nightgown. God help him. "This enigma of a woman who's been such a puzzle to me. Rich, powerful, untouchable Allison Cameron."

Goosebumps broke out on Cameron's arms and a small shiver ran through her. His voice was low and surprisingly seductive. She couldn't tell if he was angry, aroused, or confused, and that made this whole ordeal that much more exciting. She was at a loss for words, but House didn't seem to mind. He didn't even seem to really notice.

"I know next-to-nothing about your failed relationship with Richard. What I do know is that he tried to hit you and you kicked him out. I know the sex was horrible. I don't even know if you still love him." He seemed to be in some sort of trance, moving closer to her, and trailing his hands down her arms, leaning down to place a kiss on her exposed shoulder. "And right now, I don't care whether you do or not."

"Oh…?" She was so confused by his actions. Sure, she'd known there was an attraction, but she didn't expect him to give into it. Unless he had an ulterior motive…

"Tell me something," he whispered in her ear.

"Yeah…?"

"When was the last time you had good sex?"

Oh, God. "Fi-five years ago…"

"That's a lot of time to make up for, Allison."

The scruff on his chin was rubbing against her neck lightly and oh, but how wonderful it felt. Her nipples were already hard. She could swear she was getting wet just from the implication of sleeping with Greg House. And all she could manage was a weak, "Uh huh…"

"Well I can't pull a Rhett Butler and sweep you up the stairs, Scarlett," he growled, slipping a pinky beneath the flimsy strap over her left shoulder and ripping it easily. "So you either pick a couch really quickly or find an easy way for me to get up those steps."

Cameron stared at House, wide-eyed, and could think of nothing to say. She wanted him. Oh, God, she wanted him. But she couldn't say it; couldn't think of how to say it. Couldn't reverse the years of training she'd had in keeping desires quiet.

When she didn't answer, House smirked. "Did I stun you?" he asked, keeping hold of her arms and slowly moving to where he remembered the den to be. It wasn't exactly sexy to limp a woman to a room, but she didn't seem to mind. He wondered if she even noticed that they weren't moving evenly. "I hope that's why you're not saying anything."

"I … don't know what to say," she admitted, watching him with doe-eyes and following every move that he made.

"Tell me that you want me to fuck you senseless."

"Oh, God…"

"Unless, of course, you don't," he said with a predatory smirk, stopping.

She gripped his suit coat and pulled him, taking charge and walking backwards slowly toward the den. "I do," she replied.

"Then tell me."

"I…" She stumbled over the words, never having been overly bold in bed to begin with. "I want you to…"

House's smirk widened. "Say it, gorgeous."

"I want you to fuck me." She blushed as she said it, which sort of took away from the whole brassiness of the statement. But hell, it was so adorable that he didn't care. It was actually endearing.

"Good girl." He leaned in and nipped at her neck, thankful that they'd reached the den. Skillfully, he steered her to the over-sized chair that he'd been sitting in earlier. "Sit down."

Without hesitation, she did as he told her to do. Her heart was beating so fast that she would almost wonder how he couldn't hear it if she weren't a doctor. "I haven't got any condoms," she blurted out nervously. "I'm on the pill and-"

He sat on the coffee table across from the chair and put a finger to her mouth. "Don't tell me you're nervous," he teased, tracing her lips until they opened and slipping the tip of his finger into her mouth to wet it and trace her lips once more. "You're big, bad Allison Cameron. Confident, assertive, stunning…"

She could do nothing but watch him and gulp occasionally. "I… It isn't… I'm not the sex kitten people seem to think I am," she said in a whisper. "I … I've never even had sex in anything but the missionary position. Well, besides that one time when I was high, but I don't really think that should count because I wasn't in my right mind, and-"

"Quiet," he snapped, his hand going to her chin to pull her toward him. His lips grazed hers as he spoke. "I didn't come here to play the part of the bad lover. I'm supposed to be the one who satisfies you, remember? Isn't that what you told Richard?"

"Y-yes…"

"Then how about you shut up and let me satisfy you?"

She nodded and gave a soft whimper when his lips met hers in a heated kiss. It took her breath away every time he did this to her; his lips pulled passion from her, bruised her, and made her want to claw at him. She supposed that was a good thing, overall. It seemed to be the kind of response he wanted.

His lips left hers and she pouted, opening her eyes to see House's smirk. "Stand up," he murmured to her. "And ditch the nightgown."

Cameron gulped and stood, her legs shaking slightly. "Just … take it off?" she asked unsurely.

"And toss it to the side. I promise you won't need it for a while."

She blushed furiously as she took hold of the nightgown and slowly worked it off of her body, dropping it to the side of the chair. To stand before House in nothing more than panties was unnerving, and she moved to cross her arms over her chest.

House reached out and took her hands, staring at her body. "Don't ever cover that beautiful body from me," he ordered.

She bit her lip, embarrassed but completely flattered. "Sorry," she whispered.

He tugged lightly on her hands to bring her down so that she bent over him. "Put your hands on the table," he told her, "and don't move them, no matter what. If you want me to stop, you say so."

She nodded and felt a thrill run down her spine. What was he going to do? Well, what could he do, really? Their faces were centimeters apart and he kept his eyes on hers as his hands traveled away from her wrists.

He kept his eyes on hers, leaving her helpless to do anything but watch the emotions play in his. Those hands, piano player's hands and doctor's hands, moved along her arms. Under them, to her side, down to her hips to knead there. He played along her body, tickling across her abdomen and drawing a tiny giggle; teasing her breasts and drawing a quick gasp.

He ran his thumbs over her nipples, watching as she bit down on her bottom lip and whimpered. While he was half tempted to play with her breasts for the rest of the night, he dropped his hands. A slow smirk formed as she frowned at him. "Stand up straight," he told her. Once she did, he stood with her.

Cameron watched him curiously as he took off his tuxedo jacket, took off the tie, and began unbuttoning his shirt. "How come I don't get to order you around?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow.

He laughed as he tossed the shirt to the side. "Because if you tried, you'd stutter and blush all the way through. And that just takes away from the experience." Once his undershirt was gone, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, giving a soft moan when her breasts met his chest. "Besides, I think you'll like giving up control," he murmured, nipping at her top lip. "Even if it is to a measly underling."

She rewarded his joke with a soft laugh and settled her hands on his hips, placing small kisses on his neck. He pulled away from her, though, not letting her get too close. "Turn around," he told her sternly. "Bend over, and take off the panties."

Cameron was not a stupid woman. She knew exactly why she was wet, she knew exactly how she'd gotten to the state of arousal that she was in… She just had no clue how House could be so damned good at being sexy. Licking her lips, she did what he'd told her to. Then, in a move of boldness that stunned even her, she quirked an eyebrow and held the panties up to him. "Are you so alpha male that you need to sniff or are you okay in that aspect?"

He smirked and took the garment from her, throwing it across the room. "Should I tell you to go fetch or will you be a good girl and keep your pretty little mouth shut?"

She was getting used to this game … and she was starting to like it. "I can keep my mouth shut," she said demurely.

"Aren't you a sweetheart?" he drawled, hand going to her hair and tugging so that her head came up. He bent down for a quick, hard kiss. "Do me a favor: get on your knees and take off my pants."

"I don't need to be on my knees to do that," she pointed out, unbuttoning the dress slacks from her standing position.

"Oh, I know," he said smoothly. "But I want you on your knees. Get there."

If she were any more wet, she was pretty sure that she'd be dripping onto her carpet. Keeping her eyes on his, she slowly lowered herself to her knees, pulling down the zipper to his slacks and pushing them off of his hips. "Anything else while I'm down here?" she asked sweetly.

"Maybe another time." He placed his hand under her chin and brought her back up. "I'm going to sit in that chair," he said, pointing to the chair that she'd been in earlier. "And you're going to straddle me."

"But your boxers…"

He rolled his eyes and shoved his boxers off of his hips before sitting in the chair. "Better?"

"Mmhmm. What about your-?"

"Vicodin's a beautiful thing and I'll guide you away from my bad thigh. Get on my lap, Allison."

She gave him a shy smile and straddled him as he'd told her to do, silently thanking her interior decorator for the idea to bring in an oversized chair. "Now what, Dr. House?" she asked with a cheeky smirk.

He returned her smirk and rested his hands on her hips. "Now, you're going to ride me. And you're not going to come until I tell you that you can. Sound like something you might like?" Before she could answer, he moved a hand to her center, dipping a finger inside. She gasped and dug her nails into his shoulders and he felt immense satisfaction. "I think you like that idea. Don't you?"

"Yes," she gasped out as he added another finger. "God, yes."

"Maybe I should make you come with my fingers first," he suggested, sounding almost bored. He decided that he loved playing this game with her. He enjoyed seeing her battle between being shy and being her normal, dominant self.

"Do whatever the hell you want to," she mewled, hips moving in the slow rhythm that he'd set with his fingers.

"What was it that you wanted me to do earlier?" he murmured into her ear, nipping at the lobe.

"Oh…"

"Tell me again, Allison. Tell me what you want me to do."

"I want you to fuck me," she bit out quietly, grinding against his hand.

"Louder, pet." He moved his finger as though he might to tell someone to come closer and she cried out.

"I want you to fuck me," she growled, panting for breath.

"Not loud enough," he teased. "I don't think you really want it…"

She whimpered and moved helplessly. "Please!" she begged.

He removed his fingers and smirked when she cried out in frustration. When he caught her eye, he made diligent work of licking her taste off of his hand. His move brought another whimper and even a pout. "Why the pout?" he asked innocently. "You want a taste?"

Her eyes narrowed and she leaned in so that her lips brushed against his ear. "I want you … to fuck me," she spat, biting at the sensitive skin beneath his ear.

"Good girl." He gripped her hips and moved her so that he could slide in easily. Once they were positioned properly, he pulled her down so that she slammed onto him, drawing long, low moans out of both of them.

She tried to move, but his grip on her hips stopped her. When she gave him a questioning look, he smirked at her.

"You're going to stay completely still," he panted, resting his forehead against hers. "Except for those wonderful muscles that are currently wrapped around my cock."

"I can't have an orgasm that way," she growled at him.

"Oh, you can," he told her. "Do it. I'll prove it."

She glared and tightened her muscles, holding them for as long as she could and feeling ever-so-triumphant when House seemed to choke on his own tongue. He bit out an expletive and she loosened the muscles. "Oh, sorry. Too much?"

He tangled his hands in her hair and pulled her in for a steamy kiss. "You keep doing that," he breathed into her ear. "And I'll take care of you."

She highly doubted that he'd take care of anything for all of … three seconds. She continued to tighten and loosen her muscles, enjoying the sensation, but not enough to really push her over the edge. That in itself was frustrating since she'd been so close not too long ago. And then … his thumb found her clit. "Oh … oh!" Her hips bucked, pulling him in deeper, and she gasped.

Somehow, he managed to look arrogant even when he was sweaty and panting for breath. Cameron wasn't sure whether she liked it or hated it. Right now, she didn't care. "Feel good?" he asked.

"Oh, God, yes…" She broke from words to mumbling incoherently as he continued to rub at her clit. "Please," she pleaded. "Oh, please…"

"Not yet," he told her, watching as her eyes slid shut. He could feel her nails biting into his shoulders, could tell how close she was by how she was tightening spasmodically around him. Her movements weren't anywhere near measured now, and he loved knowing that he was driving her wild. With a leer, he pinched her clit. "Now," he growled in her ear.

Her hips bucked to his once more as she let out a small scream, nails digging deeper into his skin, sure to leave a mark. Her head dropped forward to rest on his shoulder as she breathed heavily. "You're not even… You haven't…"

"Oh, you thought we were done?" he asked, faux-innocent. "How cute." He licked a bead of sweat off of her shoulder. "Once you've got your voice back, move to the couch."

She gave him a wide-eyed stare for a moment before moving off of him and managing to move to the couch on unsteady legs.

House stayed in his chair, watching her. Once she sat, he sat forward in the chair. "Stay there," he told her, "and spread your legs just as wide as you can."

"I… That's… You're…"

"Spread them, Princess." After she'd done as he'd told her to, he got out of the chair and crouched comfortably on the floor between her spread legs. He settled his hands on her thighs and leaned in, flicking his tongue along her entrance.

"House, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he cut her off. "I don't have to be here screwing your brains out right now. But I want to be. To see your pillar of power fall is the sexiest thing I've seen in a long time." Not wanting to give her time to respond, he gave her a wink and moved back to drive her crazy with his tongue and teeth. He brought her to the brink again, and denied her once more.

She sobbed out his name and pleaded for him to return by gripping his hair and pushing him back toward her center. But he didn't listen, deciding instead to climb onto the couch and pull her over him once more, slamming her down for the second time that night. She cried out, clenching around him.

Once she'd come back down to earth, he laid back on the couch. "Think you can take one more?" he asked her with a quirked eyebrow.

"You're still hard," she gasped breathlessly. "What the hell are you? Superman?"

He smirked. "Very self-controlled," he corrected, hands kneading her hips. "Come on, Princess. Get me off."

"So eloquent," she murmured, hands resting on his chest as she moved slowly over him. She was already so sensitized, and every movement she made was cause to mewl.

"That's right," he muttered, watching her face contort with pleasure. "Keep moving, gorgeous; just a little faster."

She panted for breath, moving faster, taking him in deeper, and moaning all the while. "Greg…" A whimper. "Greg… It feels so good…"

"I know," he replied breathlessly. "Just a little harder."

Feeling her third orgasm for the night steadily rising, she moved as he instructed; faster, harder, take him in deeper. Her nails scraped at his nipples, her moans filled his ears. She came quietly the third time, and he growled her name when he spilled into her.

A while later, when she was wrapped around him on the couch and he felt the need for a cigarette for that damned fantastic sex, Cameron sighed. "We're going to need to move to my bedroom," she told him tiredly.

"Why?"

"I love Sylvia, but I don't want her seeing me sky clad, wrapped around a man on the couch in my den."

He snorted and looked around the room. "Can we at least leave the clothes here?" he asked with a devilish smirk.

She looked appalled for a moment, but slowly grinned. "That we can do." She got off of the couch and bent down to pick up his tuxedo shirt, putting it on her body and buttoning up a few of the buttons. After putting on the shirt, she located his cane and tossed it to him. "Can you do a flight of steps?"

"I could do you on a flight of steps," he offered, grabbing his pills off of the ground and popping a couple. "I'll be fine. Let's get to your bedroom; maybe I can get that shirt off of you quicker than you managed to put it on."