(no subject)
Title: Show And Tell
Author: rolleson
Fandom: House
Rating: NC-17
Character/Pairing: House/Cuddy
Spoilers: Season Four.
Warnings: Sex. Actual sex.
Summery: Show her, tell him.
Notes: Part nine. 2091 words. Sex.
i. Hot And Bothered
ii. Hesitations
iii. Weird
iv. Practical Application
v. Comfort Zone
vi. Progress?
vii. Think
viii. Semi
They were sitting on her large sofa, half an hour later, boxes of Thai food scattered on her glass top coffee table and heaped onto their plates. Cuddy's feet were curled underneath her, her underwear still in the hallway, body titled towards House as she ate. He had left his shirts on the floor of her kitchen, his jeans loose on his hips, long legs stretched out, feet resting on top of the glass. The television buzzed before them, the news flickering quietly as they ate.
"Got any good dvds?" he asked.
"A few," she nodded to the book case in the far corner, the very bottom shelf lined with dvds.
"Is that it?"
"You'll find them covered in a light layer of dust," she said, "never have time to watch any."
"Any porn?"
"No," she said sharply.
"No porn at all, or no porn on dvd?" he asked, looking at her carefully. She hesitated and blushed. "Ha!" he cried, triumphant, "what do you have? Some old VHS? Magazines? A list of dirty websites bookmarked on your laptop?"
"No!"
"Desktop?"
"No." She was still blushing, but her face was hard, trying not to let her embarrassment show. "I may have a couple of books."
"Really?"
The way his eyes lit up with the information was both beautiful and disturbing.
"Yeah."
"Can I see?"
"Bedside cabinet," she said, telling him was easier than having a cripple ransack your bedroom, she decided.
He came back with three books, dropping down hard onto the sofa, making her jump up in her seat a little. Her cheeks were still flushed red, and he was almost grinning at her.
"This one not as good?" he asked, holding up a book, pristine compared to the other two, tattier, books.
"It's new."
The blush on her face amused him way too much for her liking.
He put her the new book down and picked up one of the older ones, flicking through to find something good, something hot.
"This one looks well loved," he said.
"I'm sure your favourite dvds are covered in scratches."
"I take good care of my porn," he huffed. She tried to hold in her chuckle, and he didn't look up from her book, having found a passage he liked.
"Can I borrow these?" he asked.
"No."
"Swap you a couple of dvds for a week."
"No," she grabbed the book from him. "I don't like porn."
"Really?"
"It's so empty," she said, "I don't care about those people, I don't care if they get off or not."
"You are such a girl," he said, making a grab for another book.
"I know, I'm sorry, but Wilson is taken now, you're stuck with me."
"I'll make do," he grumbled, and she smiled, wondering exactly what he was trying to tell her.
After a little while of House reading her erotic fiction, he started to shift and wriggle on the sofa next to Cuddy as she watched the news. He held the book in one hand and palmed his groin.
"This is actually hot you know," he said, not looking at her.
"I don't read it for the prose House," she said, looking at the slight flush on his face, down to where his hand was rubbing, "you're reading the bit where Pete is begging aren't you?" Her voice had changed and he turned to look at her, to find her smiling in that seductive but evil manner she had.
"Yeah."
"You kinda like that don't you?" she said, moving to talk softly in his ear.
"It's well written," he said and Cuddy laughed, tongue flicking out over his ear lobe. He breathed in hard, and pulled her to him, almost on top of him, kissing her hard. She curled around his body, hands cupping his face and kissing back, one arm wrapped around her waist to keep her close.
"You know," he breathed, tugging at her bottom lip, "a semi-comfortable relationship would involve sofa sex."
"Or just going to bed early," she said with a grin, pulling out of his hold and standing up. She held out a hand to him, but he refused her offer, swinging his legs to the floor and pushing himself up.
"At least we've already gotten through some of the foreplay."
"Oh no," she said, "you're not getting away with that."
He laughed and followed her through the house, leaving his cane by her sofa, watching her ass, passing her underwear in the corridor floor with a smirk. Once in her bedroom he went straight for her blouse, tugging at the buttons roughly.
"House, you'll rip it," she chided.
"Good," he grumbled back, pulling a button clean away and exposing more of her cleavage. "I have this fantasy about ripping a wedding dress from your body," he told her, pulling the shirt open and from her body, dropping it on her bedroom floor.
His eyes, lips and hands zeroed in on her breasts.
"You want a semi-comfortable relationship and to rip a wedding dress off me?" she asked, completely confused by him but certainly not for the first time.
"I don't necessarily want to get married," he said, licking a circle around a nipple, "just wanna rip a perfect pretty wedding dress and fuck you senseless." He cupped both breasts with his hands and she moaned softly.
"I don't get you at all House," she murmured.
"I'm an enigma," he said, "maybe I'll buy you a white dress."
"Still want to skip the foreplay?" she asked with a gasp.
"Yes, but I'm willing to compromise, for the benefits."
"Compromise?" she said, aching an eyebrow.
"Yes, I know it's a term you're unfamiliar with, especially in the bedroom, but it can be fun. Look it up in the dictionary," he said, lifting his head up to kiss her. She couldn't help the stupid grin, kissing him and pulling him around and sitting on the bed. He followed her down, settling himself in the middle of the bed and pulling Cuddy to settle on top of him, making out topless. Just like college.
He was almost happy. Hoping she understood some of what he was trying to tell her, because he wasn't entirely sure what he was trying to say himself. Or what he felt beyond the physical throb of his leg and his dick.
He reached down and tugged the hem of her skirt up, his knuckles rough over her thigh, before cupping her bare ass with one large hand and squeezing, circling his hips again. She moaned softly, a little breath of a noise in his ear, he unzipped her skirt and the two of them tugged it down and away from her. She shifted, sitting up to straddle him and he followed, leaning forward to kiss her breasts, lips pressed against her skin, later he would just sit and look and study her body, her breasts, but right now, he wanted to taste and tease and make the most of everything. He circled a nipple with his tongue again and she sighed, a happy sigh that he hadn't heard from her before.
He liked it.
He continued to lick and nip at her breasts, and she unzipped his jeans, struggling to pull them down as he refused to let go of one nipple, latching onto it with his teeth. She managed to get them to his knees before she had to pull away with a long moan as he sucked on her nipple and released it with a wet pop.
"God, even in bed you're annoying," she said, yanking his jeans around the rest of the way, and tossing them to her bedroom floor.
"You love it."
"I really don't House, there's a time and a place for stubbornness," she said, "actually, there isn't..." He smirked and pulled her down to him to kiss her, tongue slipping into her mouth, fighting her, pushing and pulling.
"You love it," he repeated, nipping at her lower lip. He knew she loved that, but didn't reply or respond, settling down on top of him again, and he rolled them, so he was on top, settling between her legs. This was new for them, to be so intimately pressed against her, only his boxers stopping him from slipping deep into her body. Moisture was soaking the material, and as he kissed her neck, nipping at the soft skin there, he moved his hips against hers.
"Greg," she moaned, hands tugging at his boxers.
He realised they were actually going to do this at-fucking-last, and he, he hadn't wanted anything like this for a long time. With this intensity.
He wished it was twenty years ago, or that he was twenty years younger, or even wished he had two good legs because he wanted to be better for her. Not that she deserved it most of the time, but that's how he felt.
Sometimes he got wasted to distract himself from the confusion.
He rid himself of his boxers, his dick sliding against her wetness and he groaned, the noise and sensation reverberating through his brain and body.
"I get it," he said, voice harsh, kissing her sweetly, tongue flicking over her bottom lip. "I understand now."
"Huh?" she whispered, reaching down between them.
"There's no going back," he said, pushing into her hand, then her body as she guided him in slowly. "Not now." He thrust in hard and she cried out.
They were still and silent for a few moments, connected, House hard and deep inside, heat surrounding him and making his head spin.
This was what Cuddy had wanted for twenty years.
She should never have waited this long and she shifted her hips, thrusting up against him and he started to move, pulling her legs up to wrap around his waist and she wanted to ask if he could handle this, if his leg could handle this, but he was sliding in deep, the rhythm perfect and all her words were gone.
They found a rhythm together, slow and sweet, moving against one another, pushing and pulling. He bent his head down to take a nipple into his mouth and damn, he loved her breasts. Always had.
"Greg," she panted, "I love you." He didn't reply, kissing her hard instead, pushing harder. Of course she loved him. He knew that.
"If, if I tell you," he paused thrusting hard, "that I love you." Another pause and she squealed when he shifted to the side a little, onto his good leg, "back," he grunted and eventually hoped to finish his sentence, "can I watch porn at work?" He sighed in relief.
"No," she answered, voice high as they moved, pace picking up, kissing him.
"Can I get out of clinic duty?"
"Never."
Their movements and pace never faltered once, and god she didn't want him to tell her he loved her. She mostly wanted to die from the pleasure of this. The physical and emotional and ohgodwherewashishandgoing.
"If I give you a kid, will you let me off clinic duty?"
"No," she huffed out on a breath. "Nothing is go-ing," the word got caught in her throat, "to get you out of clinic."
"I hate you," he said, lacking venom, breathing hard, kissing her gently.
Showing her.
She couldn't say any more, the hand that had drifted down her body, slipped between them, one large finger pressing down on her clit.
"Greg," she sobbed.
Cuddy sobbed,
House thought he was going to have a fucking heart attack with that information.
He pressed down on her clit again, moving harder and faster. Deep into her body, the heat of her burning his mind, and she started to tighten around him, pulling him into her and when she started to shake beneath him, his name a constant sob, her orgasm rolling over her, he was done, deep, and everything went dark, pleasure breaking him.
When he opened his eyes again, she was stroking his back, and smiling at him.
"You are so fucking hot Lise," he told her, rolling on his back.
"Yeah," she breathed and he smirked at the answer.
"You do know right?"
The tone of his voice had her hesitating, and she looked at him, trying to see exactly what he was asking.
He loved her. She knew.
"Yeah."
"I fucked you into one word answers," he said, with a smug smile.
"Yeah."
"You seriously can't say anything else?" he asked.
"I am going to ride you so hard later."
He smirked and pulled her close.
Author: rolleson
Fandom: House
Rating: NC-17
Character/Pairing: House/Cuddy
Spoilers: Season Four.
Warnings: Sex. Actual sex.
Summery: Show her, tell him.
Notes: Part nine. 2091 words. Sex.
i. Hot And Bothered
ii. Hesitations
iii. Weird
iv. Practical Application
v. Comfort Zone
vi. Progress?
vii. Think
viii. Semi
They were sitting on her large sofa, half an hour later, boxes of Thai food scattered on her glass top coffee table and heaped onto their plates. Cuddy's feet were curled underneath her, her underwear still in the hallway, body titled towards House as she ate. He had left his shirts on the floor of her kitchen, his jeans loose on his hips, long legs stretched out, feet resting on top of the glass. The television buzzed before them, the news flickering quietly as they ate.
"Got any good dvds?" he asked.
"A few," she nodded to the book case in the far corner, the very bottom shelf lined with dvds.
"Is that it?"
"You'll find them covered in a light layer of dust," she said, "never have time to watch any."
"Any porn?"
"No," she said sharply.
"No porn at all, or no porn on dvd?" he asked, looking at her carefully. She hesitated and blushed. "Ha!" he cried, triumphant, "what do you have? Some old VHS? Magazines? A list of dirty websites bookmarked on your laptop?"
"No!"
"Desktop?"
"No." She was still blushing, but her face was hard, trying not to let her embarrassment show. "I may have a couple of books."
"Really?"
The way his eyes lit up with the information was both beautiful and disturbing.
"Yeah."
"Can I see?"
"Bedside cabinet," she said, telling him was easier than having a cripple ransack your bedroom, she decided.
He came back with three books, dropping down hard onto the sofa, making her jump up in her seat a little. Her cheeks were still flushed red, and he was almost grinning at her.
"This one not as good?" he asked, holding up a book, pristine compared to the other two, tattier, books.
"It's new."
The blush on her face amused him way too much for her liking.
He put her the new book down and picked up one of the older ones, flicking through to find something good, something hot.
"This one looks well loved," he said.
"I'm sure your favourite dvds are covered in scratches."
"I take good care of my porn," he huffed. She tried to hold in her chuckle, and he didn't look up from her book, having found a passage he liked.
"Can I borrow these?" he asked.
"No."
"Swap you a couple of dvds for a week."
"No," she grabbed the book from him. "I don't like porn."
"Really?"
"It's so empty," she said, "I don't care about those people, I don't care if they get off or not."
"You are such a girl," he said, making a grab for another book.
"I know, I'm sorry, but Wilson is taken now, you're stuck with me."
"I'll make do," he grumbled, and she smiled, wondering exactly what he was trying to tell her.
After a little while of House reading her erotic fiction, he started to shift and wriggle on the sofa next to Cuddy as she watched the news. He held the book in one hand and palmed his groin.
"This is actually hot you know," he said, not looking at her.
"I don't read it for the prose House," she said, looking at the slight flush on his face, down to where his hand was rubbing, "you're reading the bit where Pete is begging aren't you?" Her voice had changed and he turned to look at her, to find her smiling in that seductive but evil manner she had.
"Yeah."
"You kinda like that don't you?" she said, moving to talk softly in his ear.
"It's well written," he said and Cuddy laughed, tongue flicking out over his ear lobe. He breathed in hard, and pulled her to him, almost on top of him, kissing her hard. She curled around his body, hands cupping his face and kissing back, one arm wrapped around her waist to keep her close.
"You know," he breathed, tugging at her bottom lip, "a semi-comfortable relationship would involve sofa sex."
"Or just going to bed early," she said with a grin, pulling out of his hold and standing up. She held out a hand to him, but he refused her offer, swinging his legs to the floor and pushing himself up.
"At least we've already gotten through some of the foreplay."
"Oh no," she said, "you're not getting away with that."
He laughed and followed her through the house, leaving his cane by her sofa, watching her ass, passing her underwear in the corridor floor with a smirk. Once in her bedroom he went straight for her blouse, tugging at the buttons roughly.
"House, you'll rip it," she chided.
"Good," he grumbled back, pulling a button clean away and exposing more of her cleavage. "I have this fantasy about ripping a wedding dress from your body," he told her, pulling the shirt open and from her body, dropping it on her bedroom floor.
His eyes, lips and hands zeroed in on her breasts.
"You want a semi-comfortable relationship and to rip a wedding dress off me?" she asked, completely confused by him but certainly not for the first time.
"I don't necessarily want to get married," he said, licking a circle around a nipple, "just wanna rip a perfect pretty wedding dress and fuck you senseless." He cupped both breasts with his hands and she moaned softly.
"I don't get you at all House," she murmured.
"I'm an enigma," he said, "maybe I'll buy you a white dress."
"Still want to skip the foreplay?" she asked with a gasp.
"Yes, but I'm willing to compromise, for the benefits."
"Compromise?" she said, aching an eyebrow.
"Yes, I know it's a term you're unfamiliar with, especially in the bedroom, but it can be fun. Look it up in the dictionary," he said, lifting his head up to kiss her. She couldn't help the stupid grin, kissing him and pulling him around and sitting on the bed. He followed her down, settling himself in the middle of the bed and pulling Cuddy to settle on top of him, making out topless. Just like college.
He was almost happy. Hoping she understood some of what he was trying to tell her, because he wasn't entirely sure what he was trying to say himself. Or what he felt beyond the physical throb of his leg and his dick.
He reached down and tugged the hem of her skirt up, his knuckles rough over her thigh, before cupping her bare ass with one large hand and squeezing, circling his hips again. She moaned softly, a little breath of a noise in his ear, he unzipped her skirt and the two of them tugged it down and away from her. She shifted, sitting up to straddle him and he followed, leaning forward to kiss her breasts, lips pressed against her skin, later he would just sit and look and study her body, her breasts, but right now, he wanted to taste and tease and make the most of everything. He circled a nipple with his tongue again and she sighed, a happy sigh that he hadn't heard from her before.
He liked it.
He continued to lick and nip at her breasts, and she unzipped his jeans, struggling to pull them down as he refused to let go of one nipple, latching onto it with his teeth. She managed to get them to his knees before she had to pull away with a long moan as he sucked on her nipple and released it with a wet pop.
"God, even in bed you're annoying," she said, yanking his jeans around the rest of the way, and tossing them to her bedroom floor.
"You love it."
"I really don't House, there's a time and a place for stubbornness," she said, "actually, there isn't..." He smirked and pulled her down to him to kiss her, tongue slipping into her mouth, fighting her, pushing and pulling.
"You love it," he repeated, nipping at her lower lip. He knew she loved that, but didn't reply or respond, settling down on top of him again, and he rolled them, so he was on top, settling between her legs. This was new for them, to be so intimately pressed against her, only his boxers stopping him from slipping deep into her body. Moisture was soaking the material, and as he kissed her neck, nipping at the soft skin there, he moved his hips against hers.
"Greg," she moaned, hands tugging at his boxers.
He realised they were actually going to do this at-fucking-last, and he, he hadn't wanted anything like this for a long time. With this intensity.
He wished it was twenty years ago, or that he was twenty years younger, or even wished he had two good legs because he wanted to be better for her. Not that she deserved it most of the time, but that's how he felt.
Sometimes he got wasted to distract himself from the confusion.
He rid himself of his boxers, his dick sliding against her wetness and he groaned, the noise and sensation reverberating through his brain and body.
"I get it," he said, voice harsh, kissing her sweetly, tongue flicking over her bottom lip. "I understand now."
"Huh?" she whispered, reaching down between them.
"There's no going back," he said, pushing into her hand, then her body as she guided him in slowly. "Not now." He thrust in hard and she cried out.
They were still and silent for a few moments, connected, House hard and deep inside, heat surrounding him and making his head spin.
This was what Cuddy had wanted for twenty years.
She should never have waited this long and she shifted her hips, thrusting up against him and he started to move, pulling her legs up to wrap around his waist and she wanted to ask if he could handle this, if his leg could handle this, but he was sliding in deep, the rhythm perfect and all her words were gone.
They found a rhythm together, slow and sweet, moving against one another, pushing and pulling. He bent his head down to take a nipple into his mouth and damn, he loved her breasts. Always had.
"Greg," she panted, "I love you." He didn't reply, kissing her hard instead, pushing harder. Of course she loved him. He knew that.
"If, if I tell you," he paused thrusting hard, "that I love you." Another pause and she squealed when he shifted to the side a little, onto his good leg, "back," he grunted and eventually hoped to finish his sentence, "can I watch porn at work?" He sighed in relief.
"No," she answered, voice high as they moved, pace picking up, kissing him.
"Can I get out of clinic duty?"
"Never."
Their movements and pace never faltered once, and god she didn't want him to tell her he loved her. She mostly wanted to die from the pleasure of this. The physical and emotional and ohgodwherewashishandgoing.
"If I give you a kid, will you let me off clinic duty?"
"No," she huffed out on a breath. "Nothing is go-ing," the word got caught in her throat, "to get you out of clinic."
"I hate you," he said, lacking venom, breathing hard, kissing her gently.
Showing her.
She couldn't say any more, the hand that had drifted down her body, slipped between them, one large finger pressing down on her clit.
"Greg," she sobbed.
Cuddy sobbed,
House thought he was going to have a fucking heart attack with that information.
He pressed down on her clit again, moving harder and faster. Deep into her body, the heat of her burning his mind, and she started to tighten around him, pulling him into her and when she started to shake beneath him, his name a constant sob, her orgasm rolling over her, he was done, deep, and everything went dark, pleasure breaking him.
When he opened his eyes again, she was stroking his back, and smiling at him.
"You are so fucking hot Lise," he told her, rolling on his back.
"Yeah," she breathed and he smirked at the answer.
"You do know right?"
The tone of his voice had her hesitating, and she looked at him, trying to see exactly what he was asking.
He loved her. She knew.
"Yeah."
"I fucked you into one word answers," he said, with a smug smile.
"Yeah."
"You seriously can't say anything else?" he asked.
"I am going to ride you so hard later."
He smirked and pulled her close.