ANGEL, ANGEL DOWN WE GO TOGETHER

7 May 2009

LET ME KISS YOU

"I always want to kiss you." The words floated off House's lips with an ease he didn't think possible. Was it really that easy to tell her the truth? After everything they'd been through last night, he felt she deserved at least that much.

Cuddy looked up into his eyes. She had been about to leave. She wasn't sure why she asked other than a burning need to know. It startled her, not the fact that he wanted to kiss her; she could see that in his eyes. It was the fact that he was admitting it, to her, that had thrown her.

If she hadn't been so surprised by his answer she might not have had the guts to lean toward him and press her lips against his, a move she had wanted to do every day she had known him. But she was surprised, surprised he had opened up to her, surprised he had admitted in the only way he knew how, that he had feelings for her, and she did reach out to him and press her lips firmly against his and she would have been content to leave it there. But then…

House felt a surge of pleasure rush through him. When he saw her leaning in, when he saw her getting closer, his mind told him, yelled at him to move away, that he was about to lose something. What it was his mind couldn't say, and so he ignored it, and he let her soft, gently mouth caress his chapped, weary lips. He let the warmth of her kiss awaken in him a need he had tried to bury for nearly twenty years.

She pulled away and he felt the loss immediately. He knew this was it. If ever there had been a moment when he needed to put aside his fears and take a chance on something he couldn't control, this was it. Every nerve ending in his body flashed into action, every muscle bid him to move toward her. He had lost that control that he held so dear.

He moved toward her, his hand closing the door, cutting off her chance of escape. He drew down on her, using his height to gain control. He still felt, somewhere deep inside, that she would try to flee, that it was too good to be true. This couldn't be true. After twenty years of longing it felt unreal somehow, the taste of her mouth on his, the warmth of her body against him. It wasn't real. And because it wasn't real, because he knew in his heart it could be nothing more than a very good dream, he went for it.

Cuddy felt him press against her. Felt the door slam shut behind her, shaking her to her core. His mouth was on hers as she felt her body slam against the door. The air rushed out of her as his mouth sunk deeper into hers.

He clawed at her jacket, the one she had put on only moments before. It was a personal battle to eliminate anything that stood between them. He wanted to feel her body, all of her body against his. He wanted to memorize every inch of her, the taste, the smell, the touch of her skin as he devoured her greedily.

Her heart was racing as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him as close as she could. Needing him closer. Her lips sucked on his, her teeth bit into his flesh gently. She had never needed him more than she did in that moment. She pushed aside any rational thought. She didn't want to think. She wanted to feel. She wanted to feel him and nothing more.

House stumbled back, pulling her with him, guiding her somewhere, anywhere, where he could have her completely. She stumbled along with him, their legs sloppily colliding as they walked awkwardly toward the couch, clothing coming off, her jacket at the door, now her shirt.

She felt the morning air touch her skin. It made her shiver against the heat of his touch. All her senses were heightened as she pulled at him, clawing at him like a wild animal devouring its prey. House was her prey and she was not going to let him get away until she had exhausted him completely.

House was a willing prey. He didn't care what she did to him. He fumbled with her pants, not willing to let go of her long enough to get his hands in between them, but desperate to get her undressed. He surrendered when he felt her legs wrap around his waist, sending him stumbling into a dresser.

He could wait no longer. With a strength he didn't know he had, without any sign of the pain that had crippled him for the past ten years, he carried her down the hall and into his bedroom. He knew no pain, no fear, no insecurity in that moment. All he knew was he was about to make love to the woman of his dreams and nothing would stop him.

Cuddy reached one arm out as they passed the threshold of his room and reached out for the door. She slammed it behind them, locking them in together, away from the rest of the world. House let her go, if only for a moment. In that moment he scrambled, pulling at his shirt, cursing as it became stuck on an elbow, tearing it slightly as he wrestled it over his head.

His fingers fumbled with the button on his pants, not easy on a good day with plenty of time, proving impossible now, with the anticipation building up inside him.

Her hands slippedover his, pushing them out of the way. Slowly she took the zipper pull in her hand and slid it down. Careful not to damage the growing bulge of his groin. His heart pounded so loudly he feared the neighbors could hear it. He yearned for her in a way he did Vicodin. He willed himself to trade one addiction for another.

He was not so delicate as he tore at her pants, sending the button flying across the room and yanking the zipper down hard. His hands slipped into the waist, wrapping around her and feeling for the soft mounds of flesh that made up that delightful ass. He squeezed them tightly as she wiggled out of her pants.

Then she climbed on top of him, pushing him onto the bed. She prowled down the length of his body like a cat in heat. He could feel that heat, pouring off of her. She started at his toes, working her way slowly up his legs. He cringed slightly as she reached the scar that marked his thigh. The scar she had given him. He pushed the thought out of his mind. He had resented her for ten years because of that scar and the pain it had caused him, but not this morning. This morning he didn't want to think about his leg, or the scar or anything. He just wanted to feel her.

He felt the force of her body as she pushed down on top of him. Her hair fell in his face. Nothing had ever pleased him more. Still, he brushed it away with his hand, his lean fingers gliding across the surface of her cheek. He tucked the hair neatly behind her ear feeling her shiver as his hand brushed the sensitive lobe.

He pulled her face toward his with the force of a man who knows what he wants. She came to him willingly. She wanted the same thing. With a catch of breath they collided. Tongues explored mouths, tangling and circling one another in a dance only they knew. His hands raced down her body, speeding down every curve. He wanted to memorize every inch of her before she came to her senses.

He felt her hand slip between them and almost exploded then and there. He started reciting every infectious disease, alphabetically, to postpone the inevitable. Her hand slowly closed around him, just tight enough to get a reaction. He felt a thick wetness drip out the tip and cursed under his breath.

She bit his lip as she pulled him in ferociously. She moaned as he filled her with the heat of his cock. Her legs tightened around his hips, trapping him beneath her, unable to move. This was her game. She was in charge and he was helpless to deny her anything.

He felt her moving on top of him. He couldn't see her because his eyes were closed and he was afraid that if he opened them, she would be gone.

His hands gripped her waist tightly. He could feel the muscles just beneath her skin contracting as she pushed down on top of him, sliding her body back with every thrust. She hadn't changed a bit. In college she knew exactly how to get what she wanted, and she was working him expertly once again, as though they had never stopped.

He cried out as she pushed harder, wanting more of him deep inside of her. Needing to feel all of him deep inside her.

Sex made her feel alive. It heightened her senses and energized her whole body. And she was energetic, when it came to sex. She rode House hard, pushing and pulling at him until he fell limp beneath her. Not letting him go limp until he had satisfied her completely. Then she collapsed on top of him, panting heavily, sweat dripping down her naked body.

House was left panting too, gasping for air. A dull, throbbing ache rose up between his legs. It was a good ache. The kind of ache men would die for. His legs lay spread out on the bed, airing himself out in the cool breeze of the ceiling fan. He felt her arm across his chest and rested his hand on it. It would seem a gentle move but really was meant to keep her from leaving. It was possessive. She was his and he didn't want her walking out on him again.

Cuddy sighed contentedly. She had waited for this for so long she feared it wouldn't live up to her expectations, but it did, oh how it did. Her legs trembled and ached from the loss of his body between them. Though she had one flung over his leg, it wasn't the same as feeling his bulk pinned down beneath her. She felt in control straddled on top of him. She felt empowered. It felt good. She felt good. She hadn't felt this good, this content, in a long time.

Neither of them spoke for a long time. Neither of them wanted to be the one to break the spell. House stared up at the ceiling hoping this moment would never end. Cuddy curled up against him. She could feel his heart racing beneath her cheek. His chest rising and falling like a wave. It was putting her to sleep.

It had been a long, sleepless night but the worst seemed over, for now. House had made it through his first night of detox. Cuddy had been there, by his side. She was pleased that he had asked her to be the one to go through this with him. It was an inconvenience, and it had meant spending the night away from Rachel, but he needed her. Wilson couldn't have handled it. Wilson always caved. She had to be the one. She was the only one who could say no to him.

House pulled her closer, his strong arm wrapped tightly around her. He didn't want to lose her. He didn't want her slipping away if he let his grip slacken. He'd always feared losing her. He feared it so much that he never really had her to begin with. In college it had been just a fling. She had come on strong. She made him a proposition he couldn't refuse, but it was nothing more than a fling; a crush. He had convinced himself he was little more than a conquest, a notch on her bedpost. But here they were, nearly twenty five years and a lot of heartache later.

"I really should go." She hated saying it, but she had to swing by the house and check on Rachel before filing all the paperwork for House. She couldn't spend all morning in his arms, in his bed, even if that is the only place she wanted to be right now.

House frowned in the sun lit room, but he noticed she wasn't moving. She wasn't pushing him away, wasn't prying his arm off of hers. She was laying there, her head still resting against his chest, her hand still wrapped around his waist. Her leg still entwine in his. Her words said she had to go, but her body didn't seem to be listening.

Silence fell again. He wanted to tease her, ask her why she wasn't leaving, but he knew if he did the spell would be broken and she would be gone, either vanished into the dream she was or out the door to deal with her real life. He didn't like either option.

She opened her eyes, looking at the pink skin of his chest. She let her finger draw a circle around his nipple. She felt the hairs beneath her fingertip. He wasn't a particularly hairy man. Just right, in her opinion. Enough to prove his virility but not so much that she choked on it as she gently kissed his chest, as she was doing now.

House brushed her hair aside and pulled her up to face him. He wanted to say something to her but the words wouldn't come. They never could. That had always been the problem. When he looked at her he knew, he felt it, but when he tried to tell her how he felt, the words died in his throat, afraid to come out into the light of day. Afraid of her reaction.

He leaned down and kissed her so deeply she felt it in the tips of her toes. She felt it with every nerve in her body, all of which shot off at once. She melted in his arms and she was his. He might not know it, but she was his, completely and forever. He had a power over her that she refused to admit to. He always had. From the day she had read that article about him in the Michigan paper. She knew she had to meet him. She felt that she would have him in her life forever. She just never imagined the way that would turn out.

"I really should…" Cuddy was half way through her sentence when House slowly slid his arm off of her. She was right. It was time to go back to their real lives. She smiled sadly. She didn't want it to end, she wanted to stay in his arms forever, but she knew that one of them had to be the adult, and she knew it wouldn't be him.

"Take a shower?" House just couldn't let her leave yet. The thought killed him.

"I…wasn't going to…"

"You smell like me. People will talk." House rolled onto his back. He couldn't face her. He couldn't let her see how desperately he wanted her to stay.

Her hand reached out for him but hung in the air. She couldn't touch the cold shoulder he was giving her. "If you don't mind…"

"Do what you want." House gripped the pillow tightly. He wanted to reach out and grab her, pull her down to him, make love to her again. Instead he watched as she walked off toward the bathroom. He screamed into the pillow, cursing himself for his failure.

He could hear the water running. The walls of his apartment where thin. He heard the change in the flow of the water as she undoubtedly stepped inside the old claw foot tub. He closed his eyes and listened. Imagining her naked body glistening under the stream of hot, steaming water. He felt the urge rising again in his groin. It was an urge he usually had control over, but after the morning they had just had…

Cuddy held her face up to the shower head, letting the water pour down and mask her tears. She shouldn't have taken advantage of him, not when he was so vulnerable, not while he was detoxing. She screwed up and she ruined everything.

Lost in her own thoughts she didn't hear the door open, she didn't notice the sudden rush of cool air that fluttered the shower curtain. It wasn't until the shower curtain magically tore open and a naked form appeared in the steam that permeated the small bathroom that she realized she wasn't alone.

"I'm not letting you just leave." House placed his hand on the wall for support and carefully raised himself into the bathtub.

"House!" She was glad to see him. Her heart fluttered as his body brushed against hers. She reached out to help him, fearing he might slip on the smooth wet porcelain beneath their feet.

"You didn't think I was going to let you shower alone did you?" He tried to smile through a shot of pain. His hand automatically reached for his scar, rubbing it gently.

"Does it hurt?" She bit her lip. She shouldn't have asked. She could see it in his face.

House bit his tongue. "Yes, but it'll pass." Oh how he hoped it would pass.

"Turn around." Cuddy had thought about it, from the moment he stepped in the tub she was thinking about it.

"Should I trust you?" House turned slowly, even if he didn't.

"Probably not." She smiled.

House waited, his hands up against the wall to hold himself steady. He wasn't sure what she was doing until he felt her soapy hands slip down his back slowly. He put his head back and groaned softly. Her touch was so delicate, like a sheet of silk running down his back. Mixed with the water if felt like nothing he'd ever experienced.

She was thorough, going over the same spots over and over, going over every inch of his strong, broad back with care. Then she stopped, to relather. When she touched him again his expectations were so high that he trembled. She was rubbing his lower back, her hands slipping across his slight love handles, her fingers teasing his navel before slipping back again.

He felt the soap and water dripping down his bare ass and then he felt her hands, rubbing him slowly up and down, one hand for each cheek. And then her fingers slipped between his legs and he gasped loudly, embarrassingly. She smiled behind him, pleased with his reaction and she reached further toward the front, toward his growing manhood. Her fingers brushed the soft hairs deep between his legs.

He was breathing heavy, clutching the wall now, tormented by her touch and hungry for more. "Don't stop," he breathed despite his best efforts to keep quiet. He needed her to touch him.

"I won't," she purred in his ear. She was lost in the moment. Reality be damned. She wasn't thinking about work or Rachel or the repercussions of their actions. All she was thinking about was the pleasure she wanted to bring him right here, right now.

One hand slid around his body before wrapping itself tightly around his shaft. He could feel her body pressing closer against his back, her soft curls tickled his ass and he could feel her breasts rubbing against him as she moved slowly, rhythmically, her hand running up and down his shaft as her body forced itself against his.

She felt him rising in her hand. Felt him respond to her touch, felt his body trembling as his heart raced. She pulled her other hand around to his chest, holding it tightly over his heart, her nails gently scraping at his skin.

"Oh, God," House sighed. He felt the tension mounting within him. "Oh God," he felt the pressure building. "Oh good God!" He slammed his hand against the cool, wet tile wall. "Oh yes," he slammed it again as her lips clamped down firmly on his neck. She was sucking at his flesh greedily, pulling his racing blood to the surface. "NO!!!" She had stopped. "NO!!!! Don't stop!"

He felt her hands slowly turning his body, guiding him to her. He found himself finally looking into her beautiful face, freshly washed and more lovely than should be allowed. Silently she pulled him toward her. She rested one foot on the side of the tub giving him better access. She braced herself against the wall, closed her eyes and told him what every man longed to hear "take me," she said breathlessly, throwing her head back and pressing her body against his in offering.

House didn't need to be asked twice. He grabbed her tightly, pulling her leg up high on his back. He didn't need to be guided, he knew where to go and pushed his way in like a battering ram. She cried out at the sudden fullness, grabbing the wall for support.

He watched the water pouring over her face and her breasts as he pushed into her again and again. She gasped for breath but he didn't let up. He had waited too long for this. He was going to get as much of her as he could.

She felt weak, her legs trembling beneath her. Her hand slipped along the slick tiles and she let herself fall to the bottom of the tub. A small pool of water had covered the bottom and she splashed down into it, pulling him down on top of her.

The pain of impact was ignored as he crashed into her. He should have thought of this earlier. In his new position he was able to pull her legs up over the side of the tub. She didn't put up a fight, letting him maneuver her into any position he wanted. She was putty in his hands. She had surrendered.

House grabbed onto the sides of the tub, using it as leverage to drill into her with even greater force. She felt each thrust as her body slid along the smooth porcelain. The friction was overwhelming and she felt herself growing wetter and wetter.

Female ejaculation was rare. She had only experienced it once. House had never caused it before. When he felt the first trickles of fluid slipping out of her he thought he'd struck gold. "Oh yes," he said proudly.

Cuddy felt like her entire body was about to break into a million pieces. She wanted him to stop but she wanted him to go on forever. She devoured his flesh, caressing him with her lips, teasing him with her tongue, encouraging him with her hands.

She grabbed his ass and pulled it tightly toward her, forcing him deeper. "Just like that," she said encouragingly.

"Like this?" He asked, pushing down on her and watching her face twist with painful ecstasy.

"Oh God!" She grabbed the tub, her hands squeezing so tightly her knuckles turned white. "More."

"You want more?" He asked, not stopping, acquiescing to her demands.

"Yes," she surrendered.

There was no longer time to talk. Neither of them were capable of formulating even the simplest sentence as they panted and huffed and each worked to satisfy their own needs.

House felt something hot and sticky against his thigh. Much to his surprise, and delight, it hadn't come from him. "Did you just…" He smiled down at her. She looked beautiful, flushed and satisfied as she smiled up at him.

"You're good." Her hand was resting on his thigh, his bad thigh, and he wasn't pulling away. He barely seemed to notice.

"So are you." He forgot about cumming himself. He had been overshadowed, outplayed. This was one battle he didn't mind losing.

"But I really do need to shower." She had to go. Her babysitter would only stay so long. It was the third one she'd gone through since she took Rachel in. It was proving as hard for her to keep a babysitter as it was to keep an assistant. She still refused to believe that she was the problem.

"I know." He pulled himself to his feet.

She put her hand on his chest. "You can stay." She wanted him to stay, to watch her as she washed his scent off of her, as she buried their secret in a flood of water.

House smiled and sat on the edge of the tub. It was uncomfortable and he could kill for a Vicodin, but he stayed and watched as she lathered her body slowly, more slowly than she normally would. She was putting on a show for him. She was enjoying it as much as he was.

He helped her, running his soapy hands across her body. When he tried to go too far she slapped his hands away and told him to behave. He liked it. She wasn't pushing him away, only keeping him at a safe distance.

He toweled her off when they were done, and she did the same for him. They almost went too far when he slid the towel between her legs and began to rub her into excitement. "Stop it!" She pulled the towel out of his hands.

"I don't think I can do clinic duty today." He never missed a chance to negotiate with her.

She frowned. "I didn't expect you to. You don't have to come to work, if you're not feeling up to it. I'll have someone come stay with you…"

"I don't want someone to come stay with me." He pulled away instinctively.

"I'll have Wilson…"

"I don't want Wilson."

"House." She reached out and took his hand. He wanted to deny her that comfort, but he couldn't. The desire to touch her was too strong. "You are still detoxing. You can't be here alone."

"I don't want Wilson." He said it so that there could be no doubt what he really meant.

He saw her body collapse on itself. "I can't stay with you all the time House. I have to go home and check on Rachel. I have to go to the hospital and…"

He pulled her into a kiss. He wanted to weaken her defenses. He wanted her to feel guilty, so he brushed her hand across his marred thigh. He would use any trick in his book to get her to stay.

Cuddy pulled away from him, eventually. Tears were in her eyes that she pointlessly tried to fight back. She looked at him for a long moment, trying to decide if she was doing the right thing before speaking. "Why don't you come with me?"

"To your house? To see the spawn?" House didn't like that idea. He wanted her to stay there, with him.

"RACHEL will probably be asleep, and you can stay in the living room. She'll never know you were there."

"She will when I make her mother scream like a wild whore." Now that she was dressed and the bliss of their love making was becoming nothing more than a memory, the pain was returning and the anger and the frustration and resentment. He was his old self again.

She looked at him, hurt. She sighed and reminded herself that he was in pain. "You can stay in my room. You won't even have to see her if you don't want to."

"Whatever you say, BOSS." He wasn't being playful. He was petulant and snippy.

She put her hand on his cheek tenderly. She knew he wouldn't appreciate it in that moment, but maybe later, looking back he would know that she was only trying to help. "I'm going to help you through this House. There is nothing you can do to change that."

He felt his heart breaking just a bit. She didn't deserve this. He shouldn't be forcing her to deal with it, but he wanted her there by his side. He needed her to see him through. He would have to hurt her because he couldn't bear to give her up.