The House Fan Fiction Archive

 

Seduction in Red, Destruction in Black


by liam22


-Seduction in Red-

The image of that damn red dress is burnt into his retinas. Every time he closes his eyes, all he sees is himself, lifting up that dress and taking her, hard and fast, from behind, right over her favorite centrifuge. Her eyes are squeezed shut. Her hands are gripping the counter. She's moaning his name.

The image only leaves him frustrated. He's always interrupted before he can watch her lose control and passionately scream out his name. Even more frustrating is that the fantasy leaves him desperate for a reality to compare it to. He doesn't want to spend too long thinking of the symbolism of it all.

"... and why are you so stubborn?" This time, Cameron's angry tirade breaks him out of the fantasy. He leans closer, meeting her angry glare with one of his own, one decidedly more seductive.

Her lips look soft, stained pink with some sort of womanly product. She smells enchanting, light perfume mixing with her naturally sweet scent. He tunes out her continuing rant and lets the images of her from his fantasies mix with this vision of her now. To hell with it all, he thinks, he needs to get closer.

Cameron is too angry to notice he has closed the distance between them, backing her up against the wall. The contrast between the cold concrete and the heat coming from his body startle her.

"Just shut up already." His mouth possessively claims hers. She kisses him back with all the pent up emotion inside her. He feels it all in her kiss and pours his hidden desires in, as well.

House knows he shouldn't be kissing Cameron in an empty stairwell. He knows he shouldn't be kissing her anywhere, actually. He knows once he takes her, and he has no doubts that he will, he won't be able to let her go.

House thinks about pulling back, but her body molds to his, he just can't make himself. Instead, he coaxes her mouth open to finally taste her. To see if she is as sweet as his dreams. Their tongues tangle together with each teasing stroke.

Cameron brings her hands to his waist, pulling him closer to savor the moment. She has only dreamed about this since she met him. Dreamed about what he would feel like. Dreamed about what he would taste like.

She opens her eyes when he pulls back. Her heart races and she's breathing fast. His expression is almost unreadable, but his eyes shine with an emotion she's afraid to name. Cameron's face, on the other hand, tells him everything. Under fluttering lashes, he can see the confusion written in her eyes, the unspoken question. He could always read everything in her eyes.

He needs to kiss her again. This one is slower, a gentle exploration. He's kissing her like she belongs to him. Perhaps she always has. Time seems inconsequential, as she gets lost in his kiss.

Her beeping pager breaks the moment and the consequences fall down around her. Chaotic thoughts swirl in her head. What was she thinking? Was she really just kissing her boss? He didn't want her, he didn't even like her. Distance, she thinks, she needs distance. She can't think clearly with him standing so close and looking at her like that. She pushes him slightly to get away.

House scowls at the doubt he sees written in her eyes. Was she changing her mind? Did she not want this anymore? No, he decides, she couldn't have. He grabs her wrist before she can get too far and tells her in no uncertain terms that they will finish this later.

She can feel his heated gaze on her for the rest of the day. She ignores it during the differential, schooling her expressions so Foreman and Chase won't find out. She tries avoiding him. But, that plan fails when she stuck riding the elevator up to the patients room with him. He doesn't say anything, just discreetly brushes his hand over her ass, so the older couple sharing the elevator with them doesn't notice. Just that little brush leaves her stomach warm and her nerves tingling.

Later, Cameron volunteers to inform House about the patient. She procrastinates until Foreman and Chase leave. She prefers that they be alone to deal with this. She takes a deep breathe and tries to remember the last time she felt so shaky around him.

"They've transferred him to Oncology." House looks up to see her leaning against his door. A grunt is the only response she receives. It's all she's come to expect.

-Destruction in Black-

House has been glaring at her all day. He wants this. He made that much clear. She wants this too. How hard did it have to be? Resolved with her decision, she moves towards him. She straddles his lap and unties his bowtie. Taking hold of both ends, she pulls him in for a kiss.

This kiss is more urgent and primal than the ones were in the stairwell. Those were meant to explore, while this were meant to enflame. The mewing noises pulled from her throat showed him that it was doing just that. His hands knead her breasts through the dress. Nipples harden against the rough fabric, digging into his palms like sharp points. His mouth moves from hers to kiss the smooth skin of her collarbone. Her skin is flushed in arousal. He's so close, he can smell it on her. His fantasies were never this good.

Cameron knows they shouldn't be doing this here. Anyone could walk by and catch them. But, when he tugs the dress down and catches one of her nipples in his mouth, she is beyond caring. She takes one last look over his shoulder to make sure the blinds are closed. Satisfied, she makes quick work of unbuttoning his white dress shirt, giving in to the urge to feel his hard chest muscles underneath her hands. Their wild groping continues as if they are determined to touch every inch of each other.

She's grinding against his hardness. His breathing gets heavier in response. Hands make quick work of his belt. It's his turn to moan, when her hands touch his bare skin. She brings him out and strokes him even harder. He presses himself more firmly into her hands, groaning out her name. She speeds up her ministrations, giving him what he needs with practiced ease.

He lifts up her dress and pushes her panties aside. She's dripping wet underneath his fingers. His thumb begins its unrelenting assault against her clit. He adds another finger, pumping it in and out of her. She's moaning against his throat. He can feel the pleasure coursing through her as her body jerks against his hand.

House enters her mid peak, with only a pause to roll on the condom. He's always been impatient. He's been waiting for this since he met her. He doesn't want to wait any longer. Their hips bang together erratically with hard and fast strokes. It seems like he is filling every inch of her. His hands grasp her ass, squeezing out their aimless rhythm.

She arches against him, trying to get closer. Her nails dig into his back, leaving scratches he'll find later. But now, he barely notices it. The line between pain and pleasure is blurred, so blurred that his throbbing leg is forgotten about in favor of the delicious tension coiled inside him.

She raises her head to meet his gaze, letting him stare into her soul. A final stroke sends her over the edge. She has forgotten about being quiet and nearly screams his name. He revels in the way she says it. With her clenching around him, he quickly follows her over the edge with a groan of his own.

For a moment, their heartbeats match as their breathing slows. She's sated and boneless on his lap, but no longer looking at him. He feels the tension rise in her once more before she quickly pulls away. The move is awkward on her unsteady legs. He reaches out to steady her, but she pulls away.

There were two ways she knew how to deal with things; one was in her control. His gaze burns into her as she redresses, but he says nothing. She doesn't even get his generic grunt. Cameron walks away, leaving him alone in the dark. The next move is his to make.

He's still staring after her, hours after she leaves. They scent of them still clings to the air, leaving him with more memories he'll be hard pressed to forget.

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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.