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The Thirteenth Time (Wilson/Amber)
title: The Thirteenth Time
pairing: Wilson/Amber
rating: Hard R/NC-17
words: 1,110
disclaimer: when the vulture flies sideways, the moon has hair on its upper lip.
summary: Wilson wasn't used to this.
notes: Written for the House/Cuddy/Wilson/Amber Drabble-A-Thon. Which everyone should participate in, either as a reader/writer/both. YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO. :D
Wilson wasn't used to this.
He thought by the third or fourth or fifth or sixth time he had sex with Amber that he'd be used to it. But by the thirteenth time (and no, he wasn't keeping count, honest), he still wasn't used to the way she liked it on top, or the way she liked him to bite her nipple firmly, or the way she had no shame in letting the neighbourhood know she was in the middle of an orgasm. He was used to being delicate, loving, providing satisfaction the same way he provided back rubs when his partner was visibly stressed or upset. He wasn't used to... well, this.
"Harder," Amber gasped quietly into his ear.
Wilson buried his face into her neck, breathing hard. He'd been going at it as hard as he could for the last five minutes. Maybe he was just getting too old and was too unfit, but he wasn't sure he could go any harder. Not without hurting Amber at least, and he didn't want to hurt her. He'd panicked enough as it was when he bit her nipple and she responded with what he thought was a moan of pain. Which was why he'd been so confused when Amber had then directed his mouth straight across to her other nipple and insisted he do it again, harder. Just like she was telling him now, to thrust harder. And deeper, and faster. This was honestly the most lost he'd ever felt in a relationship and he was still trying to work out if that was a good or bad thing.
"Harder," Amber repeated, sounding equal parts pleading and demanding.
"Ah!" Wilson grunted in surprise as her fingernails dragged heavily across his sweaty back. It was enough to warn him into action, though; he shifted his weight on his hands, fitting his pelvis more snugly to hers, and resumed thrusting hard, harder, as hard as he could. He felt Amber arch her back beneath him as she threw a leg over his ass, and he wasn't sure if he was bewildered or thrilled by the way she called out in pleasure.
"Like that?" he asked breathlessly, just to make sure he was doing it right.
"Exactly like that," Amber groaned.
He pulled back enough so he could look down at her. Her mouth was slack and her eyes closed, and she was turning her head from side to side on the pillow as though she was saying no, she couldn't handle it anymore. He almost stopped to ask if she was okay when she suddenly called out again and reached down to grab his ass ferociously. He found himself being guided by her hands to thrust sharper and at an angle that seemed to cause her undoing because the next thing he knew, she threw her head back and let out a sound that he instinctively wanted to muffle with his hand so the neighbours couldn't hear.
"Come on," she urged once she quietened, smiling up at him in such a wicked, satisfied way that Wilson couldn't help but smile back. She reached up and stroked a hand down his cheek, then through his hair. Wilson closed his eyes as he started to feel the familiar tingling he got at the base of his spine whenever he was close to orgasm and when Amber returned both hands to his ass, he felt her squeeze it encouragingly. "Come on," she urged again, a near whisper this time.
Wilson bowed his head, his body tensing and his breathing hitched. He wasn't used to letting himself go during sex because the focus was never about him but always about his partner. But as Amber urged him one more time to come, he squeezed his eyes closed tighter and found himself grunting helplessly with each thrust. He grunted even louder when Amber grabbed the back of his head and crushed their mouths together, rolling her hips with him in a way that caused her inner walls to squeeze around his penis in all the right places.
"Oh... god," Wilson choked out. He dropped his face in against the side of her neck, smothering any other noise he made until he was spent and nothing more than a bundle of over sensitive nerve endings. Amber ran her hands up his back and into his hair, kissing his cheek with little secret, possessive kisses. That was something else Wilson wasn't used to: the way she could be both fierce and caring, almost tender, at the same time.
"Why do you treat sex like it's a romantic dinner?" Amber asked once he rolled off her onto his back.
He frowned. "No, I don't."
"You do." Amber gathered the sheets up around her chest and turned on her side to look at him. "You treat me like I'm delicate or fragile."
Wilson met her gaze, then looked away with a vaguely confused wave of his hand. "Well, it's... it's sex. It's..."
"You sometimes touch me like you don't know what you're doing."
"Wow," Wilson replied, blinking in surprise at her bluntness. He knew he shouldn't be surprised at bluntness because he was best friends with the bluntest man on earth, but he wasn't used to his partners being blunt. "Way to bruise the ego."
"I'm not delicate," Amber continued. "Or fragile. Or in need of being looked after. I just want a man who knows how take care of his own needs while satisfying mine in the process."
"I take care of my needs," Wilson insisted.
"Not really."
Wilson stared at her, waiting for her to explain. When the explanation didn't come, he looked away again, even more confused. "I'll... I'll try to remember that," he said.
This truly was the most lost he'd ever felt in a relationship. It went against everything he knew and had practised down to a fine art over the years when it came to women. He lifted his arm when Amber nudged it and draped it around her shoulders as she settled against him with her head on his chest. He absently stroked her hair, then coiled a strand of it around his finger while Amber ran her fingers through his chest hair. Yet, despite how lost he felt, he also felt strangely... liberated because Amber still seemed to accept him, even though he didn't seem to be doing anything right.
Actually, he realised as he turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, maybe that wasn't so bad, after all.
pairing: Wilson/Amber
rating: Hard R/NC-17
words: 1,110
disclaimer: when the vulture flies sideways, the moon has hair on its upper lip.
summary: Wilson wasn't used to this.
notes: Written for the House/Cuddy/Wilson/Amber Drabble-A-Thon. Which everyone should participate in, either as a reader/writer/both. YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO. :D
Wilson wasn't used to this.
He thought by the third or fourth or fifth or sixth time he had sex with Amber that he'd be used to it. But by the thirteenth time (and no, he wasn't keeping count, honest), he still wasn't used to the way she liked it on top, or the way she liked him to bite her nipple firmly, or the way she had no shame in letting the neighbourhood know she was in the middle of an orgasm. He was used to being delicate, loving, providing satisfaction the same way he provided back rubs when his partner was visibly stressed or upset. He wasn't used to... well, this.
"Harder," Amber gasped quietly into his ear.
Wilson buried his face into her neck, breathing hard. He'd been going at it as hard as he could for the last five minutes. Maybe he was just getting too old and was too unfit, but he wasn't sure he could go any harder. Not without hurting Amber at least, and he didn't want to hurt her. He'd panicked enough as it was when he bit her nipple and she responded with what he thought was a moan of pain. Which was why he'd been so confused when Amber had then directed his mouth straight across to her other nipple and insisted he do it again, harder. Just like she was telling him now, to thrust harder. And deeper, and faster. This was honestly the most lost he'd ever felt in a relationship and he was still trying to work out if that was a good or bad thing.
"Harder," Amber repeated, sounding equal parts pleading and demanding.
"Ah!" Wilson grunted in surprise as her fingernails dragged heavily across his sweaty back. It was enough to warn him into action, though; he shifted his weight on his hands, fitting his pelvis more snugly to hers, and resumed thrusting hard, harder, as hard as he could. He felt Amber arch her back beneath him as she threw a leg over his ass, and he wasn't sure if he was bewildered or thrilled by the way she called out in pleasure.
"Like that?" he asked breathlessly, just to make sure he was doing it right.
"Exactly like that," Amber groaned.
He pulled back enough so he could look down at her. Her mouth was slack and her eyes closed, and she was turning her head from side to side on the pillow as though she was saying no, she couldn't handle it anymore. He almost stopped to ask if she was okay when she suddenly called out again and reached down to grab his ass ferociously. He found himself being guided by her hands to thrust sharper and at an angle that seemed to cause her undoing because the next thing he knew, she threw her head back and let out a sound that he instinctively wanted to muffle with his hand so the neighbours couldn't hear.
"Come on," she urged once she quietened, smiling up at him in such a wicked, satisfied way that Wilson couldn't help but smile back. She reached up and stroked a hand down his cheek, then through his hair. Wilson closed his eyes as he started to feel the familiar tingling he got at the base of his spine whenever he was close to orgasm and when Amber returned both hands to his ass, he felt her squeeze it encouragingly. "Come on," she urged again, a near whisper this time.
Wilson bowed his head, his body tensing and his breathing hitched. He wasn't used to letting himself go during sex because the focus was never about him but always about his partner. But as Amber urged him one more time to come, he squeezed his eyes closed tighter and found himself grunting helplessly with each thrust. He grunted even louder when Amber grabbed the back of his head and crushed their mouths together, rolling her hips with him in a way that caused her inner walls to squeeze around his penis in all the right places.
"Oh... god," Wilson choked out. He dropped his face in against the side of her neck, smothering any other noise he made until he was spent and nothing more than a bundle of over sensitive nerve endings. Amber ran her hands up his back and into his hair, kissing his cheek with little secret, possessive kisses. That was something else Wilson wasn't used to: the way she could be both fierce and caring, almost tender, at the same time.
"Why do you treat sex like it's a romantic dinner?" Amber asked once he rolled off her onto his back.
He frowned. "No, I don't."
"You do." Amber gathered the sheets up around her chest and turned on her side to look at him. "You treat me like I'm delicate or fragile."
Wilson met her gaze, then looked away with a vaguely confused wave of his hand. "Well, it's... it's sex. It's..."
"You sometimes touch me like you don't know what you're doing."
"Wow," Wilson replied, blinking in surprise at her bluntness. He knew he shouldn't be surprised at bluntness because he was best friends with the bluntest man on earth, but he wasn't used to his partners being blunt. "Way to bruise the ego."
"I'm not delicate," Amber continued. "Or fragile. Or in need of being looked after. I just want a man who knows how take care of his own needs while satisfying mine in the process."
"I take care of my needs," Wilson insisted.
"Not really."
Wilson stared at her, waiting for her to explain. When the explanation didn't come, he looked away again, even more confused. "I'll... I'll try to remember that," he said.
This truly was the most lost he'd ever felt in a relationship. It went against everything he knew and had practised down to a fine art over the years when it came to women. He lifted his arm when Amber nudged it and draped it around her shoulders as she settled against him with her head on his chest. He absently stroked her hair, then coiled a strand of it around his finger while Amber ran her fingers through his chest hair. Yet, despite how lost he felt, he also felt strangely... liberated because Amber still seemed to accept him, even though he didn't seem to be doing anything right.
Actually, he realised as he turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, maybe that wasn't so bad, after all.
end.
part two: The Fourth Time
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YAY FOR PORN!!! LOL.
I liked it! I think you played them well after the most recent episode. Great job!
Oh, and look! I'm contributing by being a reader. WIN. =D
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It's just so perfect. The sex was hot, but the conversation afterward is just... exactly why I love them. And yes I did "awww" out loud at the last two sentences. Because the one thing Wilson needs is someone who loves him even when he's not Mr. Perfect. WHICH IS WHY AMBER CAN NEVER, EVER GO AWAY. D:
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Also, hot.
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ALSO? THANKS FOR NOT PUTTING THE ADULT FILTER ON. REPRESENT THE TEENAGE FANGIRLS.
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Thanks so much for reading. ♥
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OH GOD, I DON'T WANT HER TO GO AWAY, EITHER DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD: EVER. EVER EVER EVER. Wilson/Amber has like, become almost House/Cuddy love for me, WHAT.
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Hee, thanks! :D
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AND LOL. No, siree. There is no adult content in MY lj. (Except for the part where there is, but shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.)
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did you see wilbur wilde on spicks and specks this week? I didn't recognise him wo the ponytail!
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really good work!
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WHICH IS WHY THE PROMO PICS MAKE ME SCARED. D=
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This is really good. Gorgeous balance of emotions and sex. I love it!
Wilson met her gaze, then looked away with a vaguely confused wave of his hand. "Well, it's... it's sex. It's..."
I adore that line. ADORE it. So utterly Wilson. It would probably take him fifty years to write a single chapter of his memoirs, lol.
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ARGH, Ticcy, I don't want her to go away. :( :( :( She's too good of a character to lose like that, and Wilson's been through enough shit.
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However, that's a very, very spoilery icon. I'd rather not have seen that.
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He just hasn't realized how lucky he is. He can be free. Now, the problem is... would he want to be free?
I liked this. A lot. Plus, ass-grabbing is very hot. *nods*