Thanks to lovefanfic55 and Notinyourlifetimehoney ! =)
Chapter 3
The same actions of the previous night, in that office, only faster and more excited now because there is no reason to ask what she is doing, he knows it. Well, he knew also in his office, and then...And then now he's waiting for it...and he's craving it. He thinks that everything is strangely quite clear, and her lips are softer every new time, but now he feels like If he knows them, he feels that sense of mastery that you feel when you want something, when you crave something to the point of pining for it viscerally, to the point of betraying your principles to be able to have it: see it once again, smell it, feel the gentleness, listen to the gentle motion in a synaesthesia of senses inexplicably sublime.
She feels powerful, gorgeous and terrified at the same time, just because for once he is the one who is hanging on her words, just because she has the security that he's vulnerable now, and this idea makes her even more afraid to find him far away when she will open her eyes again, when she will leave those lips perpetually pursed defiantly. So she wants to taste everything again, from the beginning, as If it was the first time, because she knows that she has seen only a small part of him, a fragment of what she wants, of what she's looking for...Cradling his face in her hands doesn't want to be a sign of ownership, only a mute request for exploration of an area that she has always longed to touch even for a moment.
And the pace doesn't change, the position doesn't change, because there's no rush. Their lips are fused together, their bodies are touching, her hands on either side of his face, his hands had failed to become more daring, frozen on her hips, without letting go of the cane, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her pajamas. And that's okay.
He sighs lightly against her wet lips in a pleasant sensation of freshness, but she doesn't let go his face. She searches his eyes that stay anchored in the folds of her pajamas. She smiles bitterly when she feels him taking her hands in his in order to remove them quickly from his face, and that gesture scratches more than a beard against the palms of the hands. Half step back, the handle of the cane in his shaken hand, while she is once again in the middle of the riddle of the events, overwhelmed by the situation, by him...
"Sorry..." he says.
"For what, House?".
"I shouldn't have asked, I've just come here for an answer, I'm going with another question..." he looks up slowly while Cameron is wondering what is going in his head, noting that smirk on his lips. She doesn't know whether to smile or hate him. She is focused on trying to understand him, and this is why she jumps at the noise: the cane bounces on the floor. He approaches her slowly, extending his right hand toward the wall behind her, smirking.
He takes her lips quickly, when he's in front of her, hitting her with that spicy and sour taste that would be horrible anywhere else, but not on him: it's the office coffee, the poor conditioner that he uses for his shirts that are never soft, the bubble bath and the scotch...especially the scotch. It's an overwhelming smell, which enters the nostrils and it almost hurts, but it's his as he's kissing her, so it's okay, it must be so, with his hands on her. His left hand caresses her cheek, holding her tightly to him, and the right hand feels her skin, lowering her pants to touch her flat belly. And she feels everything: his skin, the calluses because of the cane, the heat from the point where he's massaging her, provoking her electric shocks. Clinging to his neck, letting her fingers roam in his tousled curls while she feels him pushing her back, toward the living room.
She wants to think, to breathe, to focus on what's inside the room, but she thinks that everything that is not his hands, his beard and his lips, hasn't the slightest importance. She hears the sharp thud of the cane falling on the floor. She turns to see the door behind his back, she realizes that his fingers have gone well beyond the pants. She realizes that though his lips on her neck may be a repellent for inhibitions, everything is happening too fast. She moves away slowly, only a few centimeters, desperately trying to find a reason.
"House...".
He kisses her again, making her take few steps back even If he doesn't know where they're going.
"I've apologized, what do you want now?".
She can't do it, a good part of herself has absolutely no desire to rationalize anything, she has to take time...
"Where are we going?".
"In your room, obvious...".
"And how do you know that it's there?".
She felt him grinning against her jugular.
"The bedroom is always at the end of the corridor...".
She'd have wanted an electric shock to tell her that everything was meaningless, but it doesn't come "If this...If this night is all that we have...Don't stay..." she realizes she was wrong as she feels his lips moving away slowly from her ear, and his scared sky-blue irises. A step back, afraid...Not him...her. She knows what she said, perhaps it's too much, the fear of losing that little she had earned, because kissing him was something that she couldn't give up, it was like a glass of cold water that you desire during a summer day, and now that it's offered to her to drink as much as she wants, she doesn't want to refuse. That step back terrifies her.
TBC...