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"It's dangerous," she whispers then nearly screams an "Oh, God," that she manages to bury in his neck as he pushes inside her. His hips thrust hotly and wildly - it's been too long and she's too wet and he's too hard and oh fuck!. She digs her heels into his ass and fists her hands in his hair as he leans her back on the examining table and braces himself. The paper crackles beneath her and the wet slap of flesh is muffled by her too short skirt and his too staid slacks and button down shirt and striped tie. His lab coat is a shroud around them as he bites at her neck, leaving marks - it's late no one will notice - House will notice - and he sucks at the skin as she arches her back and comes all around him. His teeth scrape her skin as he pulls back and sucks in a huge breath of air, his eyes meeting hers as he keeps thrusting until he comes buried hot and deep inside her. She can feel the pulse of him, the sharp stiffening of every muscle. She wants to trace them and name them and play doctor, but instead he's pulling away because it's late and she has paperwork and he has patients and he has a wife and she has a cat and when the assistant comes in to clean the room, she'll use rubber gloves to toss away every sign that anything ever happened between them. Cuddy fingers the mark on her neck as she walks back to her office, smelling of sex. Smelling of him.
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