Hi everyone!

Here's the second part of the "First Times" series.

As I said when I first posted this, each and every part will be unrelated to the previous or the next one. This being about "First Times," I take it for granted that at the beginning of each story, House and Cuddy (apart from that one-time in Michigan) have never had sex together before. I hope this choice won't disappoint you too much as I want the end of each story to close the curtain on House and Cuddy as they are, which means I won't explore any of those stories further…

This truly is about "first time" each time. Some of them, like the first one, will be, overall, kind of sweet and tender, some others, like this one, may appear more passionate and irrational… But I'll say no more and let you read to find out why!

I really hope you'll enjoy it!

This new story is set sometime between "Let Them Eat Cake" and "Joy to The World" (season 5) – Opportunity: a fight about "THE desk". Motive: anger. First move: House

** HEATED ARGUMENT **
First Times series #2

Cuddy's heels were clicking on the floor as she walked to her office with her ever confident, decided stride. It was late in the evening, and she would be going back home as soon as she grabbed her coat and briefcase. The clinic was empty and patients, at this hour, were long gone. The nurses had deserted the central counter, some of them to take another shift in a different department, some others to head back home after their day at PPTH. The place was dimly lit and deserted so, as she turned around the corner toward her office's door, Cuddy was surprised to see lights coming from behind the closed blinds.

As she got closer, she thought she heard voices and some weird rummaging noises coming from inside, so she picked up her pace and pushed the door open decidedly. Upon entering, she gawked at the vision she came face to face with: Two perfect strangers, heaving loudly, were standing opposite side of her desk, their hands clutched at the edge, the furniture lifted slightly above the ground, and they were stumbling in the direction of the door, visibly moving it out. On the right corner of her office, she then spotted a very familiar figure: A tall, lean, muscular man that was offhandedly leaning on a cane. She stopped dead in her tracks at the threshold and put her hands on her hips.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" she exclaimed, stunned, looking at House first before laying eyes on the guys again.

"Erm, Dr. House says the desk doesn't fit here. So, he called us to come and take it," one of the men explained, puffing heavily, while maneuvering to angle it toward the door.

Cuddy jerked her head to the side and shot House a deathly glare. In response, he put both his hands on his cane's handle and leaned slightly forward, an evil smile drawn on his lips. She sucked in a sharp breath and turned her attention back to the guys.

"Put. It. Down!" she commanded with a resolute tone.

The movers instantly froze and looked at each other, baffled, then glanced at House, then at Cuddy, then back at House with a quizzical gaze.

"Desk. Out!" House ordered, mimicking Cuddy's bossy tone and pointing successively at the furniture then at the door with the tip of his cane.

The two guys hesitated for a second and started moving again.

"That desk isn't going anywhere," Cuddy warned grimly.

The movers stopped again and shot House a desperate look, clearly expecting him to give them instructions. It literally made Cuddy's blood boil with rage.

"I'm the Dean of Medicine in this hospital," she announced with a definite tone. "And this is my office."

One of the guys arched his eyebrows in surprise taken aback by this piece of information which he visibly had no idea about.

"I don't know what Dr. House told you, and I don't want to know, but the desk stays right where it is. And you, gentlemen, have thirty seconds to get out of my office then out of my hospital before I call security and have you escorted outside," she added menacingly.

The two men looked at House with a sorry face and instantly dropped the desk back on the ground before beating a hasty retreat toward the exit door. Cuddy moved to the side, as they decamped with their heads hanging low. She waited long enough to be sure they were indeed out before shutting the door. Then she slowly turned around and saw House had walked from the right corner of the office to the space in front of her desk, on the edge of which he was seated, his legs crossed at the ankles. She stomped toward him, fuming, as he watched her approached with a totally 'not-impressed' look on his face. She stopped in front of him and glared.

"What the hell was that?" she hissed through clenched teeth.

He stared back at her, a bit provokingly, but didn't answer.

"I'm tired of those little games of yours, House. When are you gonna stop acting like a ten-year-old child?"

"I'm not the one who started this," he said matter-of-factly.

Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at him, astonished.

"What are you talking about?"

House pushed himself up off of the desk with his palms and closed the distance between them, taking a step toward her and standing dangerously close to her.

"You invaded my space," he said, hovering over her. "Prevented me from focusing on my patients, messed with my stuff."

She squared her shoulders but didn't back up.

"My office was destroyed!" she shouted.

"You dropped a stink bomb in mine!" he countered. "Now who's the ten-year-old?"

"Hah! You smashed my toilet bowl!" she huffed, as if the mention of his retaliation solely could annihilate the absurdity of her escalation in the first place. "And now, this?" she gestured behind him at the desk with her hands. "This has to stop," she warned.

"Why do you even care if I take it back, anyway?" he asked angrily. "That piece of wood obviously doesn't matter to you."

"What? Of course, it matters. It's my desk from med school."

"Yeah," he puffed. "Didn't seem to move you that much to have it back." His voice was dripping bitterness with every word.

"Why would you say that? It… I'm-" she faltered, taken off guard by how upset he seemed to be about that.

"You're what, Cuddy? You're grateful? You're happy? I had it fucking shipped just for you and you didn't even mention it. Pretended like it didn't happen," he snapped.

Her eyes widened and she stared at him, at a complete loss of words.

"Is that what this is about?" she scoffed, recovering her poise after a few seconds. "Boo-hoo, poor House didn't get the attention he wanted-"

Something changed in House's gaze, and he looked down at her with a slightly hurt expression.

"You're such a bitch," he spat disdainfully.

"Maybe. But not more than that tattooed bimbo girl that was clinging to you in your office the other day," she shot back, tit for tat.

House's eyebrows flew up in bewilderment.

"Dee-Dee?" he said, not even hiding his surprise. "You saw her?"

"Yes, I saw her. And by the way, House, I'm warning you. I don't care what you do with your clique of bimbos outside of these walls, but you do. not. bring hookers to my hospital."

"Hookers?" he exclaimed, stunned. "Is that what you think she is? Pfft! Dee-Dee's not a hooker. She's an actress-"

"Sure!" she sneered. "Is that what they call it nowadays?"

"She's a nice girl I met in a bar. She's having a rough time landing herself some good gigs. So, I hired her to play a little trick to my team and teach them a lesson. That's all."

"Don't lie to me, House. I saw you. She was practically wrapped around you, right in the middle of your office-"

"Wait," he said, as realization suddenly hit him. "How do you know that? What were you doing there?"

"I am the Dean of Medicine, remember?" she replied haughtily, her slightly shaky voice betraying her sudden unease, however. "There're lots of things I need to deal with that require me to be out of my office."

House narrowed his eyes at her and studied her face closely for a while.

"Now you don't lie to me, Cuddy. This is bullshit!" he said, with that characteristic 'I just had an epiphany' look on his face. "You wouldn't have noticed Dee-Dee's presence, unless you'd have deliberately spotted her outside the walls of my office. Which means, you didn't come up there for no reason… Which means…. wait again… did you come to see me, because of the…desk?"

Cuddy took in a sharp breath and looked down briefly to hide her embarrassment. House saw it, and she saw him see it, which only gave her the urge to get away from him to avoid his scrutinizing stare, hoping it'd buy her some time to grab hold of herself.

"Never mind," she said, waving her hand dismissively in the air, as she started to walk past him.

But within the first step, he caught her firmly by the arm and halted her retreat. She glared down at his hands, and he instantly released her. She shook herself off of him but didn't try to get away and stayed where she was, right in front of him, instead. She lifted her chin up and stared at him with heated anger.

"Now look who's pissed because she didn't get all the attention she wanted! Boo-hoo," House mocked, mimicking her earlier snarky comeback.

"You're an ass."

"Yeah, big news!" he scoffed angrily. "Why do I get the feeling that it's exactly what turns you on?"

Cuddy's mouth dropped open in shock and she rolled her eyes theatrically.

"You're delusional, House," she stated with a voice she hoped sounded firm and unmoved.

House shook his head no, slowly, and took a step closer.

"What do you want from me?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

"What kind of game are you playing, Cuddy? What do you want?"

She gulped and flush invaded her cheeks.

"Nothing,"

"I don't believe you. Why did you come to my office that night? Tell me," he pressed, closing the distance between them again.

She sucked her lower lip into her mouth to prevent it from quivering and looked at him, forcing a look of smug indifference on her face. House's eyes narrowed to a thin line, and he peered intensely at her, as if he was desperately trying to decipher what lay beyond those fevered, light-grey eyes of hers. Then he sucked in a sharp breath and, without a warning, suddenly palmed one of her breasts, just as he'd done in his empty office a few days before. Cuddy gaped and froze, shocked.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, his tone provoking.

"No. It isn't," she strongly asserted.

"You can lie to me all you want, Cuddy but your body can't. I can feel your hard nipple against my hand. You can't deny that. I know what you want, and you clearly want me."

"No, you want me, House. You, not me," she denied, her gaze daring.

To emphasize her point, she swiftly flung her hand toward his groin and cupped the front of his jeans unceremoniously.

"I can feel it," she declared, with absolute, inhibited poise.

Fuck. That bewitching bitch was such a turn-on! Every nerve ending in House's body ignited with alarmingly uncontrollable desire.

"Watch out, Cuddy," he warned. "That little game can become more dangerous than smashing toilets or dropping stink bombs."

Cuddy saw his hooded eyes darken with the unmistakable shadow of lust at the same time that she felt him tense and harden underneath her touch. Undeniably flustered, she removed her hand abruptly, as if she'd been suddenly burnt by embers.

"What's wrong?" House teased, an uncomfortable ache pervading his lower abdomen at the loss. "Can't even handle a game you decided to play?"

"I'm not playing," she defended herself, feeling suddenly breathless.

House's arm jerked from his side, and he wrapped it around her, his hand landing on her ass, roughly palming her butt cheek and pressing her hard against him.

"So, you're saying you don't want this?" he challenged, staring down at her with a burning gaze.

She instinctively arched back to put some distance between her chest and his and locked eyes with him. Her mouth was slightly open, but she couldn't utter a single word, too stunned to say anything even remotely coherent.

"What is it, Cuddy?" he whispered, leaning down a little, his coaxing voice dangerously arousing, "I thought you said this was going somewhere-"

"This isn't going anywhere," she blew with a weak, trembling voice.

"Stop me then," he dared, with a gravelly voice filled with pure, raw desire.

He was squashing her against him, and it was literally impossible not to feel his rock-hard erection pressed against her hipbone. His intoxicating, masculine scent invaded her nostrils. The mighty strength of his lean muscles empowered her. Her legs started shaking and she felt as if she might turn into a puddle of want at his feet.

She whimpered pleadingly, the incoherent sound – the absolutely inappropriate sound she realized, but too late – the only signal her brain was able to send to her vocal cords in that instant. House roared, almost victoriously, just as a lion would before throwing itself mercilessly at his prey and his feral groan was the only thing she heard before his lips were on hers, harsh, ravenous, and violent.

He devoured her, thrusting his tongue between her lips, invading her mouth, sucking, nibbling, and twirling relentlessly, conquering her taste buds like a warrior who'd have decided to claim a territory as his. The force of his outburst overwhelmed her with anger, and she thought she wanted to resist but there was no denying the incredibly powerful reaction it had set off inside her body. Her pulse accelerated, her heart pounding against her ribcage, her limbs literally shaking, and the force of the tightening spasm in her womb increasing with every second that passed by.

She threw her arms around his neck, tilting her head to the side to find a better angle to welcome his assaulting kiss and House instantly groaned his approval through her lips. Impatient and aroused beyond reason, he tightened his grip on her ass, gliding his hands underneath her butt cheeks and lifting her off the ground just enough to whirl her around and lay her on the edge of the desk behind him. She landed on the hard wooden surface a bit abruptly and moaned against his lips.

But she didn't care and neither did he, obviously, focused on making his way under her skirt, roaming her legs with his calloused palms, kneading the sides of her thighs with barely contained urgency, as he was tugging at the fabric roughly to hike the skin-tight skirt up her hips. Cuddy wriggled her butt feverishly, the only contribution she was able to offer as proof of her now undeniable yearning, while she fumbled with the buttons of his rumpled shirt, undoing the first three in a train of disorganized, impatient gestures.

House abruptly broke away from their kiss and planted his eyes on hers. She stared back, panting heavily and, for a split second, it seemed to her that he was seeking her approval with a gaze full of longing awe. Her skirt was now rolled past her hips, and it allowed her to spread her legs. She parted her thighs, unhesitant, and he instantly nestled against her heat, his hands reaching for her panties, while she buried her face in the hollow of his collarbone and tightened her grasp around his neck.

He struggled for a few seconds to pull her lacy panties down past her ass and when he met resistance, he simply hooked his fingers at the front and ripped off the flimsy, lacy cloth with one forceful move. Cuddy jolted the small of her back forward and he ran the back of his index finger down her slit, barely assessing her wetness with one swift stroke, and then his hand was gone. Cuddy whimpered at the loss and wrapped her legs around his hips, joining her high-heeled shoes under his ass and pressing her feet against his muscles, urging him forward.

She heard the clicking sound of his belt buckle being undone, then the zip of his fly being opened and then he was inside her. Deep. In one rough and confident shove. She gaped, squealing at the sudden, brusque invasion that had left her no time to adjust to his incredible length and girth but the feeling of him sheathed deep within her overcome her with pleasure more than anything else, quickly replacing the initial discomfort by an aching craving for more.

He groped her ass possessively and pulled her tightly against his hips as she clawed at his shoulders and he started to pound into her with ferocious strength, the pace of his thrusts a mix of self-controlled roughness and resolute might. Each time he reached the depth of her, ramming inside her core, it squeezed a strangled groan into his throat that she echoed with a lascivious moan, tilting her head backward to gasp for air. He removed one hand from her ass and grabbed her neck, wrapping his long fingers around the nape of her neck to tip her head back upward. Then he buried his face in her hair and started panting shamelessly into her ear.

"Feel this?" he growled against her skin. "This is what you're doing to me Cuddy. You drive me completely crazy. You're always here, around me, everywhere, flaunting your impossibly hot body at me, teasing, when you know what it does to me..."

He thrust even deeper and harder into her, reaching the hilt of her womb with his shaft, before pulling out, almost to the tip, and ramming back again with bruising force. His hand on her ass pressed her hard against him so that she would absorb the shock of his thrust and his fingers, laced around her neck, keeping her close to his face.

"You just know it. Tell me that you know it," he demanded imperiously, pounding into her once more.

"Yes," she answered with a puff, feeling dizzy with lust.

She reached for his shirt and roughly slid it off of his shoulders, uncovering his collarbones and shoulder blades and she went for his skin, biting the round shape of his muscled upper arms with delirious fervor. He replied with increased ardor, shoving harder and faster into her, jolting her pelvis backward with each hip sway, then bringing her back to the edge of the desk with all his might and main before hammering forth again.

It went on for a couple more minutes, the passionate violence of their outburst never waning until Cuddy started to puff and pant louder, and her legs closed tighter around his hips, as her nails dug into his flesh, every one of her muscles irrepressibly tensing up as the orgasmic wave threatened to drown her with the inescapability of its devastating power.

"Yes," House prompted her with a groan. "Come for me, Cuddy. Yes…"

She resisted the urge to obey his command, but she was already too far gone to stop the overwhelming process. Her thighs started trembling, her inner walls clamped around his length, and she cried out against his skin, her lips tasting the tiny beads of sweat on his upper chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her tight against him as he followed right behind her, spurting his semen deep into her core in several pulsing jolts.

Then he suddenly froze, his face buried in her neck, his warm agitated breaths along her skin burning her with forbidden heat. His hips jerked forward once more, and a shiver ran down his spine as he half-collapsed on top of her, making her topple backward until she was forced to put her hands flat on the desk behind her to keep her balance. His forceful grip gradually loosened and he released her from his embrace, sliding his face from her neck down to her chest, nuzzling the hem of her cleavage and rubbing his nose against her skin, as he tried to catch his breath.

He finally straightened up, almost reluctantly and they stared at each other in mute awe, clearly searching for something insightful to say, a smartass comment, a biting remark, anything… but none of them could find any appropriate word worth sharing or relevant enough to define what had just happened. In an awkward silence, House carefully pulled out of her and Cuddy sat up straight, pulling herself together hastily and yanking her skirt down to cover her upper thighs.

"Wow. That was… unexpected!" House exclaimed after a beat, zipping up his pants and readjusting his shirt on his shoulders.

She got off of the desk and tidied herself up, quickly smoothing out the length of her skirt down her legs and tugging a wayward curl behind her ear. Then she jutted her chin up and looked him intensely in the eyes, her pink cheeks still flushed with the afterglow of their incredibly passionate lovemaking.

"The desk stays right here, House," she announced suddenly, slightly breathless. "I'd better not come face to face with any of your guys trying to remove it from my office, again. Got me?"

His lips curled into a smile, and he walked toward her, standing barely one inch away from her, staring into her eyes with a mischievous gaze.

"Don't worry, Cuddy," he rasped, leaning in close to her face. "I wouldn't want it to be anywhere else now. I might even come to your office more often just to make sure it's still here. See if you're in an arguing mood-"

"Don't even dream of it, House," she warned him with a wicked smile.

He smiled back, one of his devastating, roguish smiles and took a step back, allowing her to regain some of her personal space. She exhaled deeply and only then realized she'd held her breath this whole time. House bent down to grab his cane on the floor, finding Cuddy's shredded panties lying just next to it. He snatched them hastily and stood up.

"I'm keeping these, if you don't mind," he declared, shoving them inside his pocket. "You won't need them anymore, anyway."

She narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again and set her lips, just staring at him in silence, instead. He stared back for a while, the hot tension still palpable between them and then suddenly flung his wrist up in front of his face, pretending to check his watch but not really paying attention to the dial.

"I've gotta go!" he said. "Poker's night at Wilson. There'll be booze and cigars. Can't say no to that!"

He turned on his heel and started limping to the exit door and before she could answer anything, he was out of her office.

Her gaze lingered on his silhouette, walking away with a bouncing limp for a few seconds and then, she shook herself back to reality, scanning the empty place around her with a look of total bafflement: She could replay the scene a million times in her mind, she knew already that she'd never find a decent explanation that would be satisfying enough for her to rationalize the completely out-of-control outburst that had consumed them both just merely minutes earlier.

She felt the familiar, uncomfortable feeling of guilt invade her and she clenched her jaw tight, forcefully pushing it back to the back of her mind. She was not going to feel guilty for this. If anything, it'd only served to prove her point. Yes, she was absolutely sure of that now: House was the one having the hots for her. And he had it bad. She'd barely done anything, and it had turned him into a wild animal. She felt an almost painful twinge of yearning contract her lower abdomen at the evocation and closed her eyes, forcing herself to take a deep breath to calm herself down.

Then she went to her desk, bent down to grab her briefcase and walked to the door with a wobbling pace, her legs still shaking a little. She put her coat on, wrapped her scarf around her neck and seized the doorknob in her hand. She paused before opening the door, feeling the irrepressible need to look behind her one last time. She turned her head slowly, took everything in at once: the desk, shiny and dark, adorning the center of the room, the protective canvas that still hung at the bathroom door on the right, the brand-new light grey couch on the left that had been just delivered that morning… She took in a sharp breath, straightened her shoulder and turned around to face the door again.

Then she switched off the light and left.

** THE END **

A/N

I'd welcome any idea that you'd want to share about a possible scenario for another "first time." If you don't have any specific idea but want me to focus on one character rather than the other as the one who initiates things, or if, maybe, you thought about a motive why they'd have sex, a specific kind of "mood" to have it... don't hesitate to share either! :P

I'm working on part 3. I hope I'll be able to update soon. Stay tuned! :)

A huge THANK YOU to everyone that have read this since I first posted it and left me a review. Thanks to everyone who have added this to their list of favorites or put the series on alert. It really and sincerely touches me a lot. :)

Have a lovely day everyone, and thanks for reading! ~ maya

PS: That 'first time' is my fictional explanation for that scene in the episode "Painless" where House is sitting on the edge of Cuddy's desk and running his fingers over the surface with a melancholic look on his face... :P