A/N I usually don't post smut to , only to livejournal, but this wraps up the story.
He was really glad Cameron had meant metaphorical coffee because he had never seen so much of her skin before and it was all so soft and pale and pretty.
"Any tattoos?" he muttered into her chest as he snaked an arm around her body to unclasp her bra. The t-shirt had been left by the door on top of his cane and they were making their way to his bedroom. He'd considered grabbing his scotch from on top of his piano but decided not to. He wasn't sure it was worth dulling the pleasure to dull the pain.
"Nope," she said with a sigh when her bra came loose. He pulled away to let it fall to the floor by his closet and took a look at her chest.
"Good," he said, "I'd hate to think anything was marring such pretty skin."
"I have a few scars."
"Don't we all," he said sarcastically.
"Sorry, I didn't mean..."
"Shut up," he said, kissing her.
"No." He ran a finger in a wide circle around a nipple, smirking when she gasped. "I can touch but I can't leer?"
"Shut up." He grinned, a dirty twist of his lips, backing her up against a wall, fighting her hands on his shirt as she tried to undo the buttons. "And stop squirming."
"You expect me to stay still when your breasts are right there?!" he said, eyes bright and wide, she smiled.
"Fine," she said, putting her hands on her hips and arching her back a little.
"Much better, we'll get to my clothes later, I promise," he said with a smug look and his finger circling her other nipple. She tried not to react, tried to keep her expression neutral as his fingers brushed over her skin and his eyes flickered back and forth between her breasts and her eyes. She tried and the fight against the sensations she was having was beautiful but the defeat was better, the sigh and the moan, her whole body relaxing in the little hallway towards his bedroom.
He bent forward, resting his weight on his good leg, one hand on her hip, the other cupping a breast, thumb smoothing over the underside. He took the nipple in his mouth and sucked gently, smirking at the gasped 'oh' that escaped her pretty little mouth. He flicked his tongue and she jumped a little, smirking, he did it again and she jumped up into her toes again.
"That is so cool," he said pulling away.
"What?" she breathed,
"The little jump." She glared at him and he demonstrated, flicking his tongue over her other nipple and making her jump.
"You are evil."
"I know," he grinned and kissed her again, pressing his body against her, lips moving over hers fast and furious, deliberately rubbing the rough sutures over her lower lip. She moaned into his mouth, tongues tasting each other. Their kisses became more desperate as their hips moved against each others, thrusting back and forth a little. House remained silent, listening to her soft moans, her brain reacting to the stimuli her body was receiving. His hands on her hips, shirt rubbing against her breasts, lips against lips.
"I've not had nearly enough Viocdin to fuck you up against this wall," he said dragging his tongue down her neck, sloppily.
"We'll save that for another day then," she promised, arching her neck to let him lick at it some more. It was dirty and he loved it, biting down on her shoulder. "Bedroom?" she asked.
"After you," he said, talking a step back.
"Ladies first?" she asked.
"No, I just want to imagine your ass through those jeans." She smiled stepping around him and walking a little closer to the bedroom before stopping. She didn't turn around, and popped the button on her jeans, shimmying out of the tight denim then stepping out of them. House stared dumb struck as her legs were revealed to him, acres of pale skin, and a simple blue thong that matched her bra.
"Oh boy," he muttered, "much better," he added in a louder voice. He limped heavily after her, finding the thong in the doorway to his bedroom and Cameron lying on her stomach, legs kicking up in the air, smile on her face. A dirty evil smile. "Much, much better. Turn over."
"No," she said.
"Turn over," he stood by the bed, looking at her bare body, reaching out and running his hand down the smooth skin of her back, her ass and down a leg. She shivered at the contact. "Turn over," he repeated.
He slid his hand back up her other leg, fingers dipping between her thighs, barely brushing over her centre, then over her ass again. Her moans made him smug, made him smirk, as she ground against the bed.
"Turn over." She smiled at him and kicked up her legs again.
"Make me," she said in a sweet voice. House groaned and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, lifting his bad leg up to stretch straight across it. "And take off your shirt."
"Say please," he said, already working at the buttons. She ignored him, smiling still, blonde hair over her back, cheeks flushed, skin everywhere. Largest organ of the body, he reminded himself. He dropped his shirt to the floor and pulled off his t-shirt, throwing it across the room, eyes on her the whole time. His jeans were getting a little tight, but he ignored the pressure to lean over and place his hand on the small of his back, fingers splayed across her skin. "You are fucking gorgeous," he told her. She blushed, her cheeks reddening even more and he quickly skimmed over her ass and between her legs, fingers pressing hard against her centre before pulling away again. She moaned loudly, and rolled over, exposing her whole body to him, a wicked grin on her face and a shyness in her eyes.
He rolled onto his side, resting some of his weight on her, jeans scratching over her skin, making her squirm beneath him, putting more pressure on his erection. He kissed her, one hand on her hip, holding her down, half a mind on the feel of her lips and her skin, the other half on his leg, the throb, throb, throb of it.
Though that could've been his dick, it was hard to tell when it was this intense.
Either way he was going to have to lie on his back soon.
Even though they were already naked and had engaged in a little groping, somewhere between second and third base (or third and a home run, he wasn't sure of the exact measure), he was enjoying making out with her. She tasted like pizza, and beer, but with something sweet and innocent behind it all, which was exactly what he had expected, wanted. Which was what he had worried Chase had taken away from her, with his little dick anddominatrixes.
"Perfect," he mumbled and she smiled at him, then moaned when his fingers danced up from her hip to her breast. He smirked, couldn't help it, and pulled away from her lips and body, looking down across her perfect stomach, the dark curls that covered her sex.
"Jeans off," she said, trembling under the hand that was moving down her body. He was pretty sure anticipation couldn't kill a person, but experiments were always fun.
"Not yet," he leaned forward to kiss her neck, gently nipping down to her shoulder.
"Why not?" She moaned the last word as his fingers brushed over her centre, dipping in a little deeper this time and feeling wetness there. He wanted to swear, but grinned wolfishly into her skin.
"Cause I'm not done yet," he said before biting into her skin, pressing his teeth into her flesh, pulling away to see the indents. Incisors, molars, canines.
"You can show me your scar, it's okay."
"I know," he said, trying to sound more flippant that he felt on the matter, "but once the jeans come off, I'll be more distracted by the increased skin contact and won't want to play anymore."
"O-kay," she swallowed hard, and he shifted to kiss her breasts, fingers just resting over her centre and revelling in the warmth there, "but if you don't do something soon, I'm going to..." she drifted off as he slid one of his long fingers into her body.
"You're going to what?"
"Never mind," she whispered, arching into his hand, trying to get his finger deeper.
"No, carry on," he said, sliding in another finger. She didn't say anything, "I assume that's better?" he asked.
"Hmmm?" He laughed at her response and moved his fingers inside her body, wriggling them around. "God, House more."
"I need more."
"Need?" he asked.
"House," she warned, his name turning into a moan as he started to move his fingers in and out of her body.
"You know, it's not nice to pressure a cripple like this," he said, flicking a thumb over her clit and making her cry out. "Allowances should be made."
"We're not talking about the fucking wheelbarrow here I just want to, ah..." Her sentence was lost when he pressed his fingers against 'that' spot, thumb flicking over her clit, once, twice, again and again.
"The wheelbarrow?" he asked, amused.
"Yeah," she breathed, hips moving in time with his hand, trying to get his fingers in deeper, turning her head to place kisses on his face. "Please House."
"I think I saw that in last months Cosmo actually," he continued, kissing her lips for a moment before shifting to nip at her breasts. "Not sure I could manage it with the leg."
"You'd have to do..." she paused to gasp, moan and smile at him as he picked up the pace of his fingers, "your physical therapy." He bit down hard on her nipple, pressed down on her clit and she came with a chocked 'oh god', arching her back, pushing her breast into his mouth, his fingers deeper into her body. Constricting arteries, dilating pupils, rapid respiration.
"I'll think about it," he said when she relaxed, breathing deep.
"Really?" she asked.
"No," he said, wondering if it would be worth it though, to improve the repertoire positions he could handle.
He grinned at her anyway, pulling her to lie on top of him and she scrambled to sit upright and straddle him. She smiled back, her entire body flushed, her nipples red, lips swollen.
"You can take my jeans off now," he told her, thrusting his hips up to illustrate.
"You sure?" she asked.
"More than," he said, "I'm in agony here," she frowned, and he sighed, "a different kind of agony." She smiled and shifted down his legs. She popped the buttons of his jeans and he snapped his hand out to grab her wrist. "I don't want to make a big thing out of it."
"Okay," she smiled and stripped his jeans and boxers clean from his body, settling between his legs. She ran her fingers up his erection, glancing at his thigh when she wrapped her hand tightly around his shaft and his eyes drifted close with a groan.
"Now who's the tease?" he muttered, gritting his teeth as she played with his dick, her fingers dancing over the head, dipping in the slit to gather some of hispre-cum onto her index finger.
"Me," she said, with a little lilt in her voice.
"Cameron," he warned.
"Not scared of you House."
"I give out the orgasms."
"What? You think I can't make myself come?" His eyes popped open and he grinned.
"Oh I bet you can, bet you have toys and everything," he said, making her blush a little, "thought so, but I'm talking about the sort of orgasms that melt your brain and your bones, and leave you telling me you love me." She opened her mouth to speak, "not the little orgasms you give yourself just to get rid of the frustration."
"I do love you," she said casually, "you don't need to melt my brain to get me to say it." She moved up his body again, still holding his dick, but looser now. "Condom?"
"Yeah, yeah," he said, blindly reaching over to his cabinet and grabbed a foil packet. He ripped it opened with his teeth and handed it to her, and she rolled it down his dick with agonising slowness, smiling at he groaned at the feel of her fingers brushing down his shaft. "Evil witch." She didn't say anything, simply settling down on top of him, both moaning as he pushed into her tight body. Tight, hot, wet. "Fuck!" he yelled, and she grinned at him, the expression twisted with pleasure. He rested his hands on her thighs, holding on as she settled onto top of him, stilling and adjusting to him. She felt so good, he had to refocus his vision
"Yeah," she muttered, circling her hips. Testing, teasing, trying his patience. He thrust up hard in response and she cried out and House was really starting to like the 'ah' sounds. And all the other sounds.
And the fact that she loved him was good too.
She started to move, slow, and he slid his hands up her thighs to her hips, holding onto her, a loose grip, his fingers tapping over her skin in a rhythm similar to the one she was moving too.
"Tell me something," he said, thrusting up gently and smirking at the little 'oh' noise she made.
"You want to talk now? she asked, each word spoken on a harsh expel of breath.
"Seems like a good a time as anyyyyy" The last word was groaned out as she tightened her muscles around him, continuing her slow place. "Fuck," he moaned. She smiled down at him, leaning forward and changing the angle, making them both moan.
"What do you want to know?" she asked, her voice strained.
"Do your eyes always go so dark during sex?" he asked in a whisper.
"I don't know," she said, hands resting flat on his chest, hips moving a little harder against his. "No one's ever commented on my eyes before," she continued, breathing hard, each word followed by a soft 'oh' noise. "What with my breasts and ass so readily on display," she added, rushing the words out in one long breath. House slid his hands up from her hips to her breasts.
"Your breasts are great," he said, "and holding most of my attention right now," he cupped her breasts loosely, letting his hands bounce with them as she moved.
"But my eyes?" she asked, gasping as he thumbed a nipple.
"Almost black. It's cool actually."
"I've never noticed." She started to move harder and faster, loosing her rhythm and he started to thrust up harder into her body, her breath coming out in pants.
"Never had sex in front of a mirror?" he asked, holding her hips again, and gripping harder.
"Yeah, but I never really took much notice of my eyes before." He realised that probably said more about him, about this, than he wanted to be revealed, but it was too late to change that, and it was too much to think about while she was moving so fast, her eyes closed a little, her rhythm random and out of sorts. It made it hard for him to time his thrusts up but she was moaning anyway, and smiling.
Her eyes went dark and she smiled. Fascinating.
"Tell." Pant. "Me." Pant. "Something." She panted each word and he gave her a contorted grin back.
"Tell you what?" he groaned.
"Anything!" she cried out when he thrust particularly hard, and they kept the rough rhythm up, Cameron making harsh 'ah' noises with every thrust of his dick into her body, House gritting his teeth.
"I would, would," he paused, concentrating on his movements for a moment, "give up my guitar for this."
"Really?" she gasped, "what abow piano?" she said, unable to form full words or sentences as they fought each other almost for completion. She was so hot and tight and his brain hurt with it. His leg hurt too, the throb of it, the heat of it was spreading, all matched by her, by the pleasure, it was too, too good.
"Don't push it," he hissed through his teeth.
"Not gonna make," she started, "not gonna," she rambled, moaning, and he felt it hit, felt her muscles contract, and her whole body tense up and threaten to snap above him, arching her back and throwing her head back as she came, cursing, cursing him, "fuck, House, fuck." He kept moving, kept thrusting up into her heat, as she burnt up, and followed her, cursing too, his thrusts becoming sporadic until his body was simply shaking as he emptied himself.
She collapsed on top of him, burying her face in his neck, breathing hard, pressing kisses against his skin every now and then. He wrapped his arms around her, and held her tight, rolling with her as she fell to his left and they settled on their sides, looking at each other.
"Good?" she asked, reaching down to pull the condom from him, turning to drop it in the trash, then turning back and burying her face in his chest.
"Need a Vicodin?"
"Nah, I'm gonna ride the endorphins for a few minutes," he said, lying on his back again, pulling Cameron back with him. She rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping an arm around him. He ran his fingers over her skin, trying to get his breathing even, trying to ignore the dull throb in his leg, his back, his brain, for as long as he could. "It's nearly healed," he said quietly.
"Hmmm?" She wrapped her leg over his and pulled herself tighter to him.
"The cut on your arm." She lifted her head up a little to look at her arm, and the newly forming scar there.
"Yeah, thanks." She smiled at him and he smiled back, his other hand running down her back.
"Hmmm?" She was dozing off and he couldn't afford that. Because he wanted to say something, and because he didn't want to wake up in agony and with a dead arm to boot. He shook her a little. "Sorry," she said with a smile, watching his face carefully.
"I'm going to say this once now, and once on my death-bed," he said, looking away from her eyes for a second, eyes that were lightening and closing slowly. "I love you."
"I know," she muttered, "I wouldn't be here for anything less."
"Okay, now I need a Vicodin," she laughed and pulled out of his embrace to fetch his pills.