"Well, I'll see what I can do about that," she laughed, pulling him inside and shutting the door behind them. In the dark of the cottage she pressed tight to him and kissed him hungrily.
That was... more than House was expecting. He watched her. Objectifying, yes, and not feeling one bit guilty about it.
He limped over, slowly, his hand on his bad leg. Stopped so that he was standing in front of her, looking down at her. "Do you do this a lot?" he asked, his voice soft. "Touch yourself, here in this bed?"
"Really? Really. Chavs and club rats don't give a shit if you get off so
long as they do," she scoffed. "You...you're different. You fuck like
you've got something to prove."
"Maybe that's just because you're always on top," House said, but still looked pleased. He moved closer to her, and then put his hands on her thighs and pulled her down so that he could stand between her spread legs. He felt her moistness against his skin. "Jesus I really did make you wet."
His hair was just long enough that she could thrust her fingers into it and
hold on. She gasped again and again, bucking against his mouth. She knew
what she liked, and he was so damn good she didn't have to try to get what
she needed...he just gave it to her.
House lifted his head and got carefully to his feet. He lifted her leg and kissed it a few times as he made his way around and climbed onto the bed beside her.
"For fuck's sake, Lyric - " House blurted, not sounding happy, but it was hard to protest further once he was inside her. The scolding on the tip of his tongue turned into a groan instead.
House wasn't actually all that concerned about STDs himself, he was too self destructive for that. He was, however, very concerned about getting her pregnant. Christ. This was one reason to stick to fucking men.
But it was really hard to worry too much about that when she was moving like that on him. And she had such a dirty mouth. "Keep talking."
"I can feel you all the way inside me. You know I want you, right? I want
it?" she asked, rising and then grinding down, her whole body moving in an
obscene dance.
House knew that one of the things he liked about her was how she fed his ego. But he loved it, he needed it. So he encouraged it. "Oh yeah?" he groaned as he put his hands on her hips, gripping her hard.
"Fuck, yes. You make me come so hard. You want me, I know you want me. I'm
gonna ride you til you can't take it," she promised. This was as close as
she got to the thrill of a crowd and it wasn't the same, not a bit, but it
was better than nothing. She could tell he adored her, at least while she
was on top of him.
"Yes..." he moaned. He couldn't get over her enthusiasm, and how it was genuinely directed at him. She was riding him like she couldn't get enough of it. She also felt a little like one of those crazy girls who were amazing in bed but should come with warning labels. She hadn't snapped yet, though.
Lyric took a risk and leaned forward. She grabbed his wrists and pinned him
to the bed, all the while rising on him and grinding down. A little roll of
her hips to make sure he felt every bit of her.
"You gonna come?" she asked breathlessly. "I want to get you off so bad. So
bad," she panted. Like this she was so close. Grinding down worked her clit
just right.
House's eyes went a little wide when she pinned his wrists; but christ, that was unexpectedly hot. "Fuck yes - " he gasped. He really was... really close... and she was utterly in control.
Lyric knew just how to move to get herself off. She had been with too many
men who didn't know shit about pleasing a woman so she had naturally just
taken over.
She was panting as she rode him, squeezed his wrists, buckled like that...
Then it hit her and she cried out, arching her back. Now he could fuck her,
if he could manage. She was done for.
House wished he could grab her, flip her over, fuck her... but that wasn't happening. Though even if he'd been able he wasn't sure he'd have been able to hold out. Not long after he felt her body tighten around him, he was coming too, looking up at the expression on her face, the way the arch of her back highlighted her breasts. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. His breath left him. He groaned... well, orgasmically.
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He limped over, slowly, his hand on his bad leg. Stopped so that he was standing in front of her, looking down at her. "Do you do this a lot?" he asked, his voice soft. "Touch yourself, here in this bed?"
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"All the time, love," she grinned, her eyes half closed. "Think about you inside me...no one's ever made me come the way you do."
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"Really? Really. Chavs and club rats don't give a shit if you get off so long as they do," she scoffed. "You...you're different. You fuck like you've got something to prove."
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"Told you so," she said, pushing up to lean back on her elbows. "You gonna get in bed or what?"
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His hair was just long enough that she could thrust her fingers into it and hold on. She gasped again and again, bucking against his mouth. She knew what she liked, and he was so damn good she didn't have to try to get what she needed...he just gave it to her.
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He went about making her come, purposefully, knowing it wouldn't be the only time tonight.
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She jerked and bucked as it exploded through her. The first one was always the best, he always made sure of that.
She lay panting on the bed, her legs going loose and dropping even more wide open.
"Fucking hell she gasped.
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She moved fluidly, rolling over and straddling him. She was used to being on top, and she understood why. Didn't bother her a bit.
"You think I'm pretty?" she asked, squirming on top of him, getting him slick.
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"Yeah, I know," she said, but then moved a bit to position him and sink onto him without worrying about all that nonsense.
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"Fuck, you feel good," she sighed, sitting up a bit so she could ride him. "Feels good. You, in me. God, I love your cock. Fuck me hard, Greg..."
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But it was really hard to worry too much about that when she was moving like that on him. And she had such a dirty mouth. "Keep talking."
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"I can feel you all the way inside me. You know I want you, right? I want it?" she asked, rising and then grinding down, her whole body moving in an obscene dance.
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"Fuck, yes. You make me come so hard. You want me, I know you want me. I'm gonna ride you til you can't take it," she promised. This was as close as she got to the thrill of a crowd and it wasn't the same, not a bit, but it was better than nothing. She could tell he adored her, at least while she was on top of him.
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Lyric took a risk and leaned forward. She grabbed his wrists and pinned him to the bed, all the while rising on him and grinding down. A little roll of her hips to make sure he felt every bit of her.
"You gonna come?" she asked breathlessly. "I want to get you off so bad. So bad," she panted. Like this she was so close. Grinding down worked her clit just right.
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Lyric knew just how to move to get herself off. She had been with too many men who didn't know shit about pleasing a woman so she had naturally just taken over.
She was panting as she rode him, squeezed his wrists, buckled like that...
Then it hit her and she cried out, arching her back. Now he could fuck her, if he could manage. She was done for.
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