Chapter Four
Cuddy had
never seen so much seafood in so many varieties; she stood staring at
the long buffet line of entrees, amazed. Behind her, House nudged her
back with his tray impatiently. “Move along
already.”
“Why don’t you go first,” Cuddy grumbled. “Since you’re so hungry.”
“Fine,” House replied, shuffling around her. “Not like it’s easy to handle a tray AND a cane you know.”
“I’ve handled a tray, a diaper bag, a baby AND a stroller,” Cuddy replied under her breath. House looked over his shoulder at her, his expression amused.
“That’s because you’re the overachiever in the family. I’m smart enough to let you do it, too.”
“You mean you’re lazy and manipulative,” Cuddy countered, but turned her attention back to the buffet. It truly was amazing—The Todai had more types of sushi than she’d ever dreamed possible, along with endless arrays of appetizers, salads, seafood entrees and further down, a dessert bar that looked positively decadent.
She chided herself for even looking towards dessert. House caught her attention by loading something on her tray; a sushi cone of some sort on a fancy little dish. She shot him a questioningly look and her gave her a serious glance in return.
“Temaki,” he murmured. “Nutritious, and according to popular belief, an aphrodisiac.”
“House—“ She couldn’t help but grin a bit at his optimistic audacity. He had already loaded some temaki on his own plate, and was moving down the line, studying the other offerings with all the seriousness that Wilson might give to a series of x-rays. Cuddy trailed behind him, watching to see what House selected, and following suit on the majority of them.
By the time they’d reached the end of the line, Cuddy was certain she could never eat all of the various little dishes on her tray. She followed House to an empty booth that overlooked part of the ocean, and settled in, wondering what to taste first.
House unwrapped a pair of lacquered chopsticks and handed them to her, then repeated the gesture for himself, glancing at his wife. She took her chopsticks in hand and waited.
“Temaki first—gives it time to work,” he intoned. Cuddy’s gaze turned from receptive to skeptical, but House reached over and picked up the cone from her selection of plates, holding it out her courteously. She leaned forward and took a bite, and the crispy nori wrapper crackled.
The rice, heated salmon and slivers of cucumber were delicious, and Cuddy made a happy sound, going for a second bite. House watched her nibble from his fingers with amusement. “Watch it, I’ll need those later, to tweak your nipples, you know.”
“Keep your voice down!” Cuddy hissed, slightly mortified at his words and her immediate reaction to them.
House blinked at her innocently, and turned back to the little dishes on his side of the table, fishing expertly with his chopsticks, plucking what looked like a tuna roll up in them. “Did you know that there’s a whole sensual art to using chop sticks for foreplay?” he began chattily. “Between the delicate pinching and tugging . . . . “ House sighed lasciviously, and reached for his beer bottle.
Cuddy stared at her own eating utensils for a moment, trying to picture the actions House had hinted at, and felt herself blush. She scowled, and reached instead for the small salad and a fork. “Nobody is taking chopsticks to any part of me, not even you, Greg. I don’t like to be pinched.”
“No midnight sushie off your tushie?” he pouted, setting his Kirin down again and seeking another morsel.
Cuddy snorted slightly. “No. dinner goes in me, not on me.”
“Picky, picky. Then I call dibs on dessert from a Cuddy table,” House told her, waggling his eyebrows slightly. “The possibilities are endless there, oh yeah. Pineapple rings around your nipples, maybe a nice mound of Cool Whip from your navel, and I could definitely glaze your thighs with chocolate syrup . . . “
“Not happening,” Cuddy told him flatly, finishing her tiny salad. “And the last thing my thighs need right now is chocolate syrup. Just because you’re horny doesn’t mean that I am.”
“Twelve weeks,” House replied. “Long time for a depraved maniac to go without. It’s been hard on me too, but I figured you’d give me the high sign where you were ready, so when I got it tonight—“ He gave her an exaggerated wink. Cuddy bit her lips to keep from laughing as she picked up another sushi piece.
“The high sign? And just what, pray tell was that?”
“You let me pry you away from the Imp. For me, that’s pretty much all systems go,” House replied, watching her. Cuddy’s mouth fell open at this, and at the same time, her sushi dropped into her cleavage.
House gave a little moan. “Ooh-ooh, Futomaki, right on the funbags---“
“Greg!” Cuddy tried to fish in her blouse discreetly, and then it happened.
Across the restaurant came the low, unhappy cry of a baby. Cuddy looked up and tensed. House kept his gaze on her shirtfront, aware of what was about to happen, feeling intrigued, slightly aroused and uncomfortable as the wet stains bloomed through Cuddy’s blouse in instant reaction. She blinked, hurriedly reaching into her lap for her napkin, mortified.
House didn’t hesitate. With careful aim he waved his beer bottle in her direction, allowing a heavy slosh of the bitter malt to hit Cuddy across her chest, drenching her and making her gasp. “What the HELL? House!”
“Sorry! Sorry about that, just slipped!” House raised his voice. “Waiter? We need some napkins---“
As Cuddy tried to blot the beer up, she tensed suddenly and looked up at him, aware of what he’d deliberately done to mask her embarrassment. She didn’t say anything, but her shoulders relaxed a bit, and seeing that, House did too.
“Yes, I’m fine—just an accident. I don’t think it’s going to stain,” Cuddy tried to reassure the waiter, who had brought a stack of paper napkins and was trying to take away a few of the empty dishes as well. When he had left after mopping up the table and part of the booth, Cuddy looked down into her dinner for a long moment, not able to meet his eyes. “Thank you.”
“You owe me another beer,” he replied, but his tone was gentle.
Afterwards, when they left The Todai and stepped out into the tropical night, Cuddy took his free hand, noting as always how big it was compared to her own. Her blouse was still damp, and she smelled like a brewery, but the night air was drying things quickly as they walked to the rental car. House gave a low chuckle.
“Gonna have to shower before you let the Demon Spawn latch on, otherwise she’s liable to develop a new thirst.”
“Like father like daughter,” came the answering murmur. “Thank you.”
“I can think of a nicer way of expressing your gratitude—“ House announced, grudgingly opening the car door for Cuddy, who slid into the driver’s seat.
Cuddy rolled her eyes. “I get it; you’re horny,” she muttered gently. House climbed in and absently rubbed his thigh, his gaze lingering out the windshield.
“I blame you for that,” he told her in a grouchy tone. “You set the pace all through the pregnancy, oh Venus of Blue Brook, what with your evil seductive ways and insatiable appetites. Between my bum leg and your baby bump we still got a hell of a lot of hide the salami in, and now I’m acclimated to it. So when you wear a clingy blouse and short little skirt, yeah, parts of me are going to sit up and take notice.”
Cuddy tried not to feel flattered, but she shot a sidelong glance at House’s scowling profile as she pulled the car out of the parking lot. “You’re being nice—stop it.”
“I’m not being nice. If I was being nice I’d go the Wilson route and bop my own baloney until you decided you might like to get laid again.”
“Haven’t you already?” Cuddy murmured knowingly. House’s scowl deepened.
“Jeez, if you were watching, then you could have lent a hand you know. My shower is your shower, any time—except when I’m peeing.”
“Pee in our shower at home and I will tie a knot in your dick,” Cuddy snapped. “There’s a toilet not two steps over. Use it.”
“Inefficient and unsafe,” House countered. “The shower drain is just fine, whether I’m draining the python or firing the surgeon general, end of decision.”
This pronouncement made Cuddy laugh, a little cluster of husky giggles that echoed in the car. They were back on the highway again, headed for the Hibiscus Inn, and the moonlight gave the jungle on either side of the road an unearthly beauty. She sighed and looked over at House indulgently. “You’re really making an effort tonight—has it been that long?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, then turned, gazing at her with an expression of directness that caught Cuddy a little off-guard. “Yes.”
“Oh,” She replied, a bit stunned. “I . . . I didn’t realize it. Between the baby, and the housework . . . “
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” came the answering mutter. “Hence the vacation. Time to shift gears, as it were.”
“Yeah,” she agreed softly.
They talked across the road to the beach, not speaking; simply enjoying the sights and sounds of the surf in the moonlight. The night sky was awash in glittering stars, and although the sun had set, the air was still warm. Cuddy carried her sandals in one hand, a finger hooked in the straps as she walked next to House and felt the sand shift under her bare feet.
She shot him a look but didn’t speak; he gave a small smile in return. Cuddy liked that they didn’t need to say anything to have a quick conversation, and that despite the sand he was making an effort to find them the perfect setting. House steered them to the right.
“It should be here---“ he murmured, “if memory serves---“
Cuddy followed him, and looked at the low stone ridge that rose up next to a small lagoon dappled with moonlight. The grove of coconut trees rose above them, majestically. She blinked a little, not quite understanding. “House---“
“Shhhh, empty beach—come here,” he murmured, and set his cane to lean against the wall. In the distance to their left was the Pacific, with its rolling white surfline gleaming in the semi-darkness. To their right, the sandy grove under the coconut trees, cool and mysterious. And right between them, a little curved wall of coral rock, rounded and smooth from the eons of waves and wind.
Cuddy dropped her sandals, slid into House’s arms, and the pangs she’d felt earlier returned, stronger now that she could smell his skin and feel his warmth. His body always held heat; higher than that of most people, as if his metabolism was always at a quicker pace than anyone else’s.
He ran his nose against her cheek, and his breath was soft against her skin when he spoke. “You smell like Kirin, and hot, hot woman. Me like.”
That made Cuddy snort, and she shifted to sink her teeth lightly into House’s earlobe; a gesture she knew would send a quiver through him. His ears had always been incredibly sensitive. Still holding the lobe lightly, she whispered back. “Got an offering for the Jungle Goddess?”
She let go, and he grinned at her; the devastating one that never failed to weaken her knees and make her pulse jump a bit. When House gave her that look, Cuddy felt every feminine instinct to whimper, so she did, a tiny bit.
House bent his face to hers, leaning her back against the hip high wall. “First, we must seek the shrine---“
He kissed her quickly, impatient and hungry; Cuddy kissed him back, aware of a rush of desire on her own part, and glad of the man in her arms. They kept kissing, moving from playful and lingering ones to slightly rougher caresses, tongues and lips and teeth bumping and tangling.
Cuddy loved the taste of him, the heated grace of his blatant desire for her. She bent to nip at his shirt buttons, undoing them with her teeth. Watching her, House gave a low groan. “Ohhyeah---“
She glanced, up, a few long curly strands of her dark hair over her face, giving her a slightly wild look. “Sexy?”
“As hell,” he agreed, his own hands moving for her blouse. It didn’t take long to undo, and after peeling it open, House undid the hooks of the nursing bra as well, tugging it open to reveal her bare chest. He gave a hard sigh, letting his hands come up to cup them from the underside, the bounty overflowing his grasp.
“The rightful owner returns—“ came his growl, and Cuddy laughed, her head going back even as he slowly kissed his way down her gleaming collarbone to the warm curves below.
Sensitive; Cuddy couldn’t get over how the merest brush of his bristles had her tensing. When his hot tongue flicked out, she moaned helplessly, her hands scrabbling to his shoulders under his unbuttoned shirt.
House kept up the tease, circling around and between her breasts, caressing the rounded expanse of them and avoiding her nipples until with a growl of her own, she tugged his hair. Only then did House shift and nip softly.
Cuddy writhed as the quick thrilling ripples rolled through her body. She clutched his shoulders, her nails digging in slightly. House gave a happy groan of his own and suckled. Cuddy clutched him harder, feeling the gush
House raised his face a moment later, looking smug and aroused. “Oh yes, you ARE delicious.”
“Shhh---“ came her slightly breathless gasp. “I didn’t know it could FEEL like that---“ Cuddy shuddered, her eyes closed, her lashes dark against her pale cheeks. House took ruthless advantage of her bliss and slipped a hand up under her skirt. Hey eyes snapped open, but her legs parted to his touch.
“Drop ‘em,” came his whisper. “Want you, and I can feel that you damn well want me too—“
Unable to argue the point, Cuddy shifted, reaching under her skirt to tug the bikini panties off; the dropped into the tops of her bare feet, and House lifted her out of them, his hands cupping her naked bottom under her skirt. “Found the temple—“
“House—“
“Yeah, yeah, I know—“ came his slightly grumpy reply. Cuddy felt him reluctantly let go of one cheek and fish into the breast pocket of his shirt to pull out a condom. She rolled her eyes slightly, but her dexterous fingers had already undone his fly and pushed at the waistband of his slacks and boxers. They slid down his legs to the sand as well, and Cuddy took a moment to run her nails lightly around his hips and ass.
House sucked in a deep breath, savoring her touch as he fumbled with the latex. “Dis-trac-ting. Lovely, but distracting, She-Beast—“
“I’m a sex goddess, I’m into your heinie.”
“Heinie is not a sexy word,” House complained, but Cuddy hefted herself up on the rock wall and slid her legs around him, one hand on his shoulder, the other around his turgid shaft, aligning it in the semi-darkness.
“Slow—“ she ordered.
House took another breath and gently thrust forward.
“Nunghhhhhhhhhhh!” In terms of sexy speech it wasn’t so much the vocabulary as the wild and desperate tone of it that made Cuddy pull him closer, her heels prodding his ass.
“Ahhh!” came her yelp as House’s unexpected heft left her breathless. Clearly when Cecily had repaired the perineal trauma she’d tightened things up a bit.
Clearly House knew it too; he pressed his face against the side of her neck, shuddering a bit. “Holy shit. Don’t. Move.”
“Crap, you’re big,” Cuddy whimpered, half-laughing as she nuzzled House’s cheek. He gritted his teeth in mock-agony.
“Saying things like that is going to make me blow right here,” he hissed. “Just let me . . . adjust, okay?”
Because it was fun to taunt him, Cuddy promptly licked his ear, and breathed into it. “Miss me?”
He rocked forward, going deeper, grunting a little, and kissed the side of her face. “Shhhh, worshiping my goddess,” he whispered back hoarsely, and let his mouth open to hers.
They rocked together against the wall, groaning and kissing, trying desperately to draw out the sweet pleasure, but the sheer urgency both of them felt stoked the passion between them at an accelerated rate, and very soon Cuddy let her head drop back as the rush of heat and lightness washed through her in gossamer pleasure, the heavy beats of her heart pulsing in time to the little cries rising out of her throat.
House nipped her shoulder to muffle his panting; she felt the throbs of his orgasm deep within her, strong and seemingly endless; moments later, when he slumped against her she raised a languid hand to stroke his damp hair back from his forehead.
She smiled.
“Good,” Cuddy told him sweetly.
House shifted, and kissed the corner of her warm mouth, lingering there for a moment. He stared at her with blue-eyed intensity, locking gazes with her in the moonlight.
“Good,” House agreed, his voice slow, and deep and serious.
Gradually they pulled apart and began the slow and mundane business of redressing; Cuddy collected her sandals and held up her underwear, debating on carrying them or simply throwing them away when House plucked them from her fingers. He stuffed them into his pocket, along with the knotted condom.
“Souvenirs.”
“No. They go in the garbage the minute we get back.”
“Oh fine. I suppose we’ll have to make do with keychains and postcards,” House grumbled gently, fishing for his Vicodin.
As they crossed the road back towards the Hibiscus Inn, Cuddy slid an arm around his waist, and dropping her arm, squeezed one cheek of his ass.
House smirked at her. “Goddesses; they’re SO insatiable.”
“Why don’t you go first,” Cuddy grumbled. “Since you’re so hungry.”
“Fine,” House replied, shuffling around her. “Not like it’s easy to handle a tray AND a cane you know.”
“I’ve handled a tray, a diaper bag, a baby AND a stroller,” Cuddy replied under her breath. House looked over his shoulder at her, his expression amused.
“That’s because you’re the overachiever in the family. I’m smart enough to let you do it, too.”
“You mean you’re lazy and manipulative,” Cuddy countered, but turned her attention back to the buffet. It truly was amazing—The Todai had more types of sushi than she’d ever dreamed possible, along with endless arrays of appetizers, salads, seafood entrees and further down, a dessert bar that looked positively decadent.
She chided herself for even looking towards dessert. House caught her attention by loading something on her tray; a sushi cone of some sort on a fancy little dish. She shot him a questioningly look and her gave her a serious glance in return.
“Temaki,” he murmured. “Nutritious, and according to popular belief, an aphrodisiac.”
“House—“ She couldn’t help but grin a bit at his optimistic audacity. He had already loaded some temaki on his own plate, and was moving down the line, studying the other offerings with all the seriousness that Wilson might give to a series of x-rays. Cuddy trailed behind him, watching to see what House selected, and following suit on the majority of them.
By the time they’d reached the end of the line, Cuddy was certain she could never eat all of the various little dishes on her tray. She followed House to an empty booth that overlooked part of the ocean, and settled in, wondering what to taste first.
House unwrapped a pair of lacquered chopsticks and handed them to her, then repeated the gesture for himself, glancing at his wife. She took her chopsticks in hand and waited.
“Temaki first—gives it time to work,” he intoned. Cuddy’s gaze turned from receptive to skeptical, but House reached over and picked up the cone from her selection of plates, holding it out her courteously. She leaned forward and took a bite, and the crispy nori wrapper crackled.
The rice, heated salmon and slivers of cucumber were delicious, and Cuddy made a happy sound, going for a second bite. House watched her nibble from his fingers with amusement. “Watch it, I’ll need those later, to tweak your nipples, you know.”
“Keep your voice down!” Cuddy hissed, slightly mortified at his words and her immediate reaction to them.
House blinked at her innocently, and turned back to the little dishes on his side of the table, fishing expertly with his chopsticks, plucking what looked like a tuna roll up in them. “Did you know that there’s a whole sensual art to using chop sticks for foreplay?” he began chattily. “Between the delicate pinching and tugging . . . . “ House sighed lasciviously, and reached for his beer bottle.
Cuddy stared at her own eating utensils for a moment, trying to picture the actions House had hinted at, and felt herself blush. She scowled, and reached instead for the small salad and a fork. “Nobody is taking chopsticks to any part of me, not even you, Greg. I don’t like to be pinched.”
“No midnight sushie off your tushie?” he pouted, setting his Kirin down again and seeking another morsel.
Cuddy snorted slightly. “No. dinner goes in me, not on me.”
“Picky, picky. Then I call dibs on dessert from a Cuddy table,” House told her, waggling his eyebrows slightly. “The possibilities are endless there, oh yeah. Pineapple rings around your nipples, maybe a nice mound of Cool Whip from your navel, and I could definitely glaze your thighs with chocolate syrup . . . “
“Not happening,” Cuddy told him flatly, finishing her tiny salad. “And the last thing my thighs need right now is chocolate syrup. Just because you’re horny doesn’t mean that I am.”
“Twelve weeks,” House replied. “Long time for a depraved maniac to go without. It’s been hard on me too, but I figured you’d give me the high sign where you were ready, so when I got it tonight—“ He gave her an exaggerated wink. Cuddy bit her lips to keep from laughing as she picked up another sushi piece.
“The high sign? And just what, pray tell was that?”
“You let me pry you away from the Imp. For me, that’s pretty much all systems go,” House replied, watching her. Cuddy’s mouth fell open at this, and at the same time, her sushi dropped into her cleavage.
House gave a little moan. “Ooh-ooh, Futomaki, right on the funbags---“
“Greg!” Cuddy tried to fish in her blouse discreetly, and then it happened.
Across the restaurant came the low, unhappy cry of a baby. Cuddy looked up and tensed. House kept his gaze on her shirtfront, aware of what was about to happen, feeling intrigued, slightly aroused and uncomfortable as the wet stains bloomed through Cuddy’s blouse in instant reaction. She blinked, hurriedly reaching into her lap for her napkin, mortified.
House didn’t hesitate. With careful aim he waved his beer bottle in her direction, allowing a heavy slosh of the bitter malt to hit Cuddy across her chest, drenching her and making her gasp. “What the HELL? House!”
“Sorry! Sorry about that, just slipped!” House raised his voice. “Waiter? We need some napkins---“
As Cuddy tried to blot the beer up, she tensed suddenly and looked up at him, aware of what he’d deliberately done to mask her embarrassment. She didn’t say anything, but her shoulders relaxed a bit, and seeing that, House did too.
“Yes, I’m fine—just an accident. I don’t think it’s going to stain,” Cuddy tried to reassure the waiter, who had brought a stack of paper napkins and was trying to take away a few of the empty dishes as well. When he had left after mopping up the table and part of the booth, Cuddy looked down into her dinner for a long moment, not able to meet his eyes. “Thank you.”
“You owe me another beer,” he replied, but his tone was gentle.
Afterwards, when they left The Todai and stepped out into the tropical night, Cuddy took his free hand, noting as always how big it was compared to her own. Her blouse was still damp, and she smelled like a brewery, but the night air was drying things quickly as they walked to the rental car. House gave a low chuckle.
“Gonna have to shower before you let the Demon Spawn latch on, otherwise she’s liable to develop a new thirst.”
“Like father like daughter,” came the answering murmur. “Thank you.”
“I can think of a nicer way of expressing your gratitude—“ House announced, grudgingly opening the car door for Cuddy, who slid into the driver’s seat.
Cuddy rolled her eyes. “I get it; you’re horny,” she muttered gently. House climbed in and absently rubbed his thigh, his gaze lingering out the windshield.
“I blame you for that,” he told her in a grouchy tone. “You set the pace all through the pregnancy, oh Venus of Blue Brook, what with your evil seductive ways and insatiable appetites. Between my bum leg and your baby bump we still got a hell of a lot of hide the salami in, and now I’m acclimated to it. So when you wear a clingy blouse and short little skirt, yeah, parts of me are going to sit up and take notice.”
Cuddy tried not to feel flattered, but she shot a sidelong glance at House’s scowling profile as she pulled the car out of the parking lot. “You’re being nice—stop it.”
“I’m not being nice. If I was being nice I’d go the Wilson route and bop my own baloney until you decided you might like to get laid again.”
“Haven’t you already?” Cuddy murmured knowingly. House’s scowl deepened.
“Jeez, if you were watching, then you could have lent a hand you know. My shower is your shower, any time—except when I’m peeing.”
“Pee in our shower at home and I will tie a knot in your dick,” Cuddy snapped. “There’s a toilet not two steps over. Use it.”
“Inefficient and unsafe,” House countered. “The shower drain is just fine, whether I’m draining the python or firing the surgeon general, end of decision.”
This pronouncement made Cuddy laugh, a little cluster of husky giggles that echoed in the car. They were back on the highway again, headed for the Hibiscus Inn, and the moonlight gave the jungle on either side of the road an unearthly beauty. She sighed and looked over at House indulgently. “You’re really making an effort tonight—has it been that long?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, then turned, gazing at her with an expression of directness that caught Cuddy a little off-guard. “Yes.”
“Oh,” She replied, a bit stunned. “I . . . I didn’t realize it. Between the baby, and the housework . . . “
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” came the answering mutter. “Hence the vacation. Time to shift gears, as it were.”
“Yeah,” she agreed softly.
***
*** ***
They talked across the road to the beach, not speaking; simply enjoying the sights and sounds of the surf in the moonlight. The night sky was awash in glittering stars, and although the sun had set, the air was still warm. Cuddy carried her sandals in one hand, a finger hooked in the straps as she walked next to House and felt the sand shift under her bare feet.
She shot him a look but didn’t speak; he gave a small smile in return. Cuddy liked that they didn’t need to say anything to have a quick conversation, and that despite the sand he was making an effort to find them the perfect setting. House steered them to the right.
“It should be here---“ he murmured, “if memory serves---“
Cuddy followed him, and looked at the low stone ridge that rose up next to a small lagoon dappled with moonlight. The grove of coconut trees rose above them, majestically. She blinked a little, not quite understanding. “House---“
“Shhhh, empty beach—come here,” he murmured, and set his cane to lean against the wall. In the distance to their left was the Pacific, with its rolling white surfline gleaming in the semi-darkness. To their right, the sandy grove under the coconut trees, cool and mysterious. And right between them, a little curved wall of coral rock, rounded and smooth from the eons of waves and wind.
Cuddy dropped her sandals, slid into House’s arms, and the pangs she’d felt earlier returned, stronger now that she could smell his skin and feel his warmth. His body always held heat; higher than that of most people, as if his metabolism was always at a quicker pace than anyone else’s.
He ran his nose against her cheek, and his breath was soft against her skin when he spoke. “You smell like Kirin, and hot, hot woman. Me like.”
That made Cuddy snort, and she shifted to sink her teeth lightly into House’s earlobe; a gesture she knew would send a quiver through him. His ears had always been incredibly sensitive. Still holding the lobe lightly, she whispered back. “Got an offering for the Jungle Goddess?”
She let go, and he grinned at her; the devastating one that never failed to weaken her knees and make her pulse jump a bit. When House gave her that look, Cuddy felt every feminine instinct to whimper, so she did, a tiny bit.
House bent his face to hers, leaning her back against the hip high wall. “First, we must seek the shrine---“
He kissed her quickly, impatient and hungry; Cuddy kissed him back, aware of a rush of desire on her own part, and glad of the man in her arms. They kept kissing, moving from playful and lingering ones to slightly rougher caresses, tongues and lips and teeth bumping and tangling.
Cuddy loved the taste of him, the heated grace of his blatant desire for her. She bent to nip at his shirt buttons, undoing them with her teeth. Watching her, House gave a low groan. “Ohhyeah---“
She glanced, up, a few long curly strands of her dark hair over her face, giving her a slightly wild look. “Sexy?”
“As hell,” he agreed, his own hands moving for her blouse. It didn’t take long to undo, and after peeling it open, House undid the hooks of the nursing bra as well, tugging it open to reveal her bare chest. He gave a hard sigh, letting his hands come up to cup them from the underside, the bounty overflowing his grasp.
“The rightful owner returns—“ came his growl, and Cuddy laughed, her head going back even as he slowly kissed his way down her gleaming collarbone to the warm curves below.
Sensitive; Cuddy couldn’t get over how the merest brush of his bristles had her tensing. When his hot tongue flicked out, she moaned helplessly, her hands scrabbling to his shoulders under his unbuttoned shirt.
House kept up the tease, circling around and between her breasts, caressing the rounded expanse of them and avoiding her nipples until with a growl of her own, she tugged his hair. Only then did House shift and nip softly.
Cuddy writhed as the quick thrilling ripples rolled through her body. She clutched his shoulders, her nails digging in slightly. House gave a happy groan of his own and suckled. Cuddy clutched him harder, feeling the gush
House raised his face a moment later, looking smug and aroused. “Oh yes, you ARE delicious.”
“Shhh---“ came her slightly breathless gasp. “I didn’t know it could FEEL like that---“ Cuddy shuddered, her eyes closed, her lashes dark against her pale cheeks. House took ruthless advantage of her bliss and slipped a hand up under her skirt. Hey eyes snapped open, but her legs parted to his touch.
“Drop ‘em,” came his whisper. “Want you, and I can feel that you damn well want me too—“
Unable to argue the point, Cuddy shifted, reaching under her skirt to tug the bikini panties off; the dropped into the tops of her bare feet, and House lifted her out of them, his hands cupping her naked bottom under her skirt. “Found the temple—“
“House—“
“Yeah, yeah, I know—“ came his slightly grumpy reply. Cuddy felt him reluctantly let go of one cheek and fish into the breast pocket of his shirt to pull out a condom. She rolled her eyes slightly, but her dexterous fingers had already undone his fly and pushed at the waistband of his slacks and boxers. They slid down his legs to the sand as well, and Cuddy took a moment to run her nails lightly around his hips and ass.
House sucked in a deep breath, savoring her touch as he fumbled with the latex. “Dis-trac-ting. Lovely, but distracting, She-Beast—“
“I’m a sex goddess, I’m into your heinie.”
“Heinie is not a sexy word,” House complained, but Cuddy hefted herself up on the rock wall and slid her legs around him, one hand on his shoulder, the other around his turgid shaft, aligning it in the semi-darkness.
“Slow—“ she ordered.
House took another breath and gently thrust forward.
“Nunghhhhhhhhhhh!” In terms of sexy speech it wasn’t so much the vocabulary as the wild and desperate tone of it that made Cuddy pull him closer, her heels prodding his ass.
“Ahhh!” came her yelp as House’s unexpected heft left her breathless. Clearly when Cecily had repaired the perineal trauma she’d tightened things up a bit.
Clearly House knew it too; he pressed his face against the side of her neck, shuddering a bit. “Holy shit. Don’t. Move.”
“Crap, you’re big,” Cuddy whimpered, half-laughing as she nuzzled House’s cheek. He gritted his teeth in mock-agony.
“Saying things like that is going to make me blow right here,” he hissed. “Just let me . . . adjust, okay?”
Because it was fun to taunt him, Cuddy promptly licked his ear, and breathed into it. “Miss me?”
He rocked forward, going deeper, grunting a little, and kissed the side of her face. “Shhhh, worshiping my goddess,” he whispered back hoarsely, and let his mouth open to hers.
They rocked together against the wall, groaning and kissing, trying desperately to draw out the sweet pleasure, but the sheer urgency both of them felt stoked the passion between them at an accelerated rate, and very soon Cuddy let her head drop back as the rush of heat and lightness washed through her in gossamer pleasure, the heavy beats of her heart pulsing in time to the little cries rising out of her throat.
House nipped her shoulder to muffle his panting; she felt the throbs of his orgasm deep within her, strong and seemingly endless; moments later, when he slumped against her she raised a languid hand to stroke his damp hair back from his forehead.
She smiled.
“Good,” Cuddy told him sweetly.
House shifted, and kissed the corner of her warm mouth, lingering there for a moment. He stared at her with blue-eyed intensity, locking gazes with her in the moonlight.
“Good,” House agreed, his voice slow, and deep and serious.
Gradually they pulled apart and began the slow and mundane business of redressing; Cuddy collected her sandals and held up her underwear, debating on carrying them or simply throwing them away when House plucked them from her fingers. He stuffed them into his pocket, along with the knotted condom.
“Souvenirs.”
“No. They go in the garbage the minute we get back.”
“Oh fine. I suppose we’ll have to make do with keychains and postcards,” House grumbled gently, fishing for his Vicodin.
As they crossed the road back towards the Hibiscus Inn, Cuddy slid an arm around his waist, and dropping her arm, squeezed one cheek of his ass.
House smirked at her. “Goddesses; they’re SO insatiable.”
