Hide and Seek
One of the games Gregory House loved to play with his on-again, off-again fuck buddy, Chloe Marzhal, was hide and seek. Fuck buddy was a rather vulgar description, actually, and he knew it. He also knew she liked overhearing it. She was so much more than that. She was safe, she was sane. He was secure in the knowledge that she would never pull the usual feminine hysterical fit when he said it was time for him to go. He was never gone for long. The longest he'd ever abandoned her was five years. She was happy for him then, truly happy.
But enough of the explanations. Back to the game.
He'd snuck into her apartment with the key he'd stolen who knows how long ago. Believe it or not, for such a big guy, hiding was the easy part, it was the waiting that was so damned difficult. He hadn't figured on her grocery shopping after work. Women. You can't live with…
The key slid into the lock and the doorknob turned slowly. Belaboring under multiple grocery bags, Chloe entered the room and tried to kick the door closed, but missed. "Oh the hell with it." He heard her mutter. She traveled to the kitchen and deposited her load on the island between the range and the sideboard. Greg lingered quietly in his hiding place while she put the refrigerated items away, leaving the cans and boxed goods for later. She was too tired to deal with them right now. What she was never too tired for, however, was her 'walk around' as she called it. Close and lock the front door. Check each window to make sure each was all locked. Inspect every closet for intruders. Lastly, double check the handgun in her bedside table. His heart ached whenever he witnessed this routine.
She was predictable in at least one other aspect. He knew she would head to the bathroom next, depositing her scrubs in the hamper and showering away the day. He waited. Chloe had once described herself as a closet nudist. The blinds and drapes in her apartment were always closed, no one could see into her darkened world from the outside, God knows, Greg had tried. So, when she emerged from the shower naked, toweling her hair, he was neither surprised nor aroused. Okay, maybe that last was a lie, but he knew it would get better.
He watched while she dried herself off, fascinated with the way she inspected herself in the mirror. It took him almost a year, but he had finally convinced her to replace the big mirror she'd had in the bathroom before the attack. He almost chuckled out loud when she finally tried to stick her tongue out at herself. She couldn't stick her tongue out at all. It was laughable. Her lingual frenulum was too short, it trapped her tongue inside her mouth. One day he would have to convince her to free it. Maybe that could be another game for another time. He filed that thought away.
Chloe didn't bother blow-drying her hair, she just combed it back and left it. Padding out into the living room, she made herself comfortable on her overstuffed butter-soft leather sofa. She loved the feel of the leather against her naked skin. Pulling a handmade afghan over herself, she located the TV remote and commenced to catch up with the programs she'd saved with her DVR.
That's when Greg made his move. Before she could register the foreign sound coming from somewhere behind her, his right hand had clamped down over her mouth, his left engulfed her wrists, holding them tight between her breasts. This was the tricky part, he had to be very careful. She had to know, and know quickly that it was him and not a true attacker. She enjoyed these games, but only if they were, in fact, games. She no longer cared for the real thing.
She felt the comforting stubble against her chin. It was soft today, he hadn't trimmed it in awhile. "Good evening, my little morsel, I've been waiting for you."
Once over the initial shock, she couldn't help but giggle. "Best be careful, Gregory, I've got a full bladder and I know how to use it."
"Ugh, you were supposed to take care of that before we left the house!" He tried to imitate an irate parent who, after traveling five miles into a cross-country road trip, heard the familiar 'I gotta pee!' from an errant five year old in the back seat.
She laughed out loud, "You're so easy! Still such a big softy!!"
He grinned in her ear, "Not any more my dear." He let go of her and perched himself on the back of the sofa, rolling over the top and landing rather un-gracefully next to her. Trying to regain some sort of decorum, he wrapped both arms around her and nuzzled her neck. "I have a surprise for you, chickadee."
"Ooh," she squealed, "I love surprises, what have you got for me?" She could depend on his being imaginative if nothing else.
He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and slowly pulled out a long, black silk scarf. Dangling it in front of her, he bid her lay her head back against the sofa. She loved the glint in his eye and did as she was told.
He pulled the afghan off her and tossed it aside. Starting at her knees, he slowly slid the silk along her legs, letting the end dance a bit as it met her soft nether curls. Noting the intake of breath and the sigh she emitted, he proceeded along her belly, slithering side to side until it reached her nipples, which were, by now, erect and hypersensitive. He trailed the scarf across her lovely breasts and watched her eyes close, a small smile creeping across her face.
"Raise your head up, my little morsel." He cooed into her ear. As she did so, the silk fell across her face, covering her eyes and draped over her nose, leaving her mouth uncovered and available. As he knotted the silk scarf, everything changed from the dimness of her apartment to the silky darkness of her mind. She loved sliding into this sensation of complete trust. And, yes, she had learned she could trust him, even though he was the infamous Greg House.
How he wished he could lift her off that sofa and deposit her onto her bed. Chloe could hear the oft-whispered sigh and knew what he was thinking. She wondered if he would ever realize that, yes, he could do what he wished, just a little differently. That kind of thing had to come from him, though, she'd never suggest it.
The air became very still. She could no longer feel him beside her. Her head tilted from side to side, trying to pick up a sound. Nothing. Her breath came a little faster as she waited. Suddenly, she felt something odd scoot under her bottom and something else press in from her opposite hip. With one clean motion she found her self in the air, her head and feet dangling free, her hips slung over his shoulder. She couldn't help but giggle, Greg had figured it out after all! She was more than delighted for him. A little smack on the ass stopped that foolishness. She smiled anyway, he couldn't see that!
Slowly, but determinedly, using his cane to its maximum capacity, he carried her the short distance to her bedroom and plopped her down on her overstuffed comforter. Everything in this damned apartment was overstuffed, he scowled. But then, that was Chloe, all softness and comfort. He hobbled back to the living room and found his Vicodin, popping a couple. The effort had been worth it, but he planned on being busy for awhile.
Ambling into the kitchen he located the items he was looking for and brought them back into her bedroom. The only light came from the lamp located on the nightstand. She had scooted to the middle of the bed and lay there, waiting. If he knew she wouldn't kill him, he'd love to be able to photograph her that way. If only she knew how lovely she looked.
He placed the items he'd brought from the kitchen onto the nightstand, moving the lamp out of the way. "Do you trust me, Chloe?" He asked, his voice deep and gravelly.
"Yes, Greg, I trust you." Her reply was genuine.
He picked up the ice cube and began to trace a path from her chin down her neck to her breasts. She caught her breath as the cold slithered from one place to another. Goose bumps formed on her pale skin as she tried not to shiver. His mouth followed the same trail, warming the areas he had just frozen, watching her every reaction. He spent a great deal of time cooling and warming her nipples, he loved to watch them, and her.
Continuing the tour, he slid the ice cube across her belly, around and into her naval. Casually, he sucked the cool fluid from the deep depression, licking her abdomen with abandon. The ice cube found its way to her mound and chilled the area covered with hair.
"Spread you legs, Chloe." He whispered huskily in her ear. He suckled her ear lobe as he watched her do what she'd been bidden. He smiled and kissed her lips gently, tracing them with his tongue. The ice cube reached her clitoris and hovered there for a long moment. For the first time, she shivered and tried to move against the pressure of the ice.
"Shhh… be still." He rubbed the ice over and over her clit, knowing it would become numb soon. Greg could barely contain himself, he wanted to bring that clit back to full sensation. He waited until she stopped moving, her breathing slowing to normal. He knew now she could no longer feel the ice. He quickly shoved what was left of the ice cube into her open vagina where it melted almost immediately. The clear fluid trickled out harmlessly.
Chloe felt his weight shift and heard a match strike. Her breath quickened again.
"Do you trust me, Chloe?" He asked her again.
"Yes, Greg, I… I trust you."
The first drop of candle wax fell to her belly, just right of her naval. She jumped, then relaxed again. It stung for less than a heartbeat. The second fell to the opposite side. He dribbled wax from the base of her throat all the way down to her trembling mound. He smiled as he waited for the wax to cool, then pulled it away from her sensitive skin in one slow motion.
Wax fell dripping across her right nipple. She gasped. The wax cooled and was pulled away, then another drop descended, cooled and was pulled away. She was fully expecting a third drop when the cold of the ice cube returned. "Oh, my God!" She cried out. Hot wax and cold ice alternated from nipple to nipple back and forth for several minutes until the cold of the ice was replaced by the warmth of his mouth. Greg nibbled and suckled until her legs began to quiver. He didn't want her to climax just yet, he had so much more he wanted to do.
"Chloe," he whispered into her ear, "do you trust me?"
Chloe's mind was clouded. Blindfolded or not, she would not have been able to see anything or think clearly anymore. It took her a moment to respond. "Yes, Greg, I…I do trust… trust you."
The hot wax fell almost instantly directly to her clitoris, which he had exposed with his fingertips. "Unngh, oh my God," was all he could make out from the moans which escaped her lips. He watched the reaction of the most tender part of her anatomy with fascination as the wax cooled and he pulled it away. Her clitoris had turned red and swelled slightly, trying to shed its hood. Another drop fell. Her arms reached up under her head, her hands gripping the pillow with all her strength. He'd watched her slide into what she'd called subspace before but never knew what it meant. Now he knew where she was going.
He pulled away the cooled wax and examined her again. The clitoral hood had been shrugged off and her beautiful pearl lay exposed, quivering ever so gently. He looked up at her face and smiled, reached over to the tray he'd brought in and grabbed the next item.
She gasped again as she felt the odd sensation of something slithering down her nether regions. It wasn't hot, it wasn't cold. She was confused. His mouth followed the sensation, lapping her clit, her inner lips and her very wet vagina.
His weight shifted again as he brought his mouth to hers. He wanted her to taste what she had just felt. Her mouth devoured his. She loved kissing him, his mouth was so responsive and eager.
Chocolate! It was chocolate sauce! She laughed and licked the rest off his face. How wonderfully fun. He responded by popping another ice cube inside her, following it with his own rock-hard shaft. He would tell her later that the sensation was incredible. He'd read about it in a magazine once, but had never tried it before.
He played with and suckled her nipples as he moved in and out of her. Her muscles contracted and relaxed with each stroke, holding him tight then letting him go. Finally their orgasm could be denied no longer and they gave in to it, collapsing into each other with joy.
"God he's such a good lover."
"God she's such a good lover."
Neither of them ever heard the other say those words. It was far too dangerous.
He rolled off her and pulled her close to him, removing the blindfold. She snuggled close, feeling his arms around her.
"My turn," She whispered in his ear.
She went to find the clear plastic wrap.