alwaysright | October 25, 2007

October 25, 2007

Foreman stepped out of Cuddy's office, closing the door softly behind him, and paused for a moment to look down at the floor, letting out a heavy sigh. Even if Cuddy didn't let it be generally known that she was rescuing from his own fuck-up, House would know just looking at him, and from there it was only a matter of time before the entire hospital knew his business. It wasn't much of an auspicious start for controlling House. Foreman didn't believe for a minute Cuddy's words when she'd still been trying to suck up to him that he was the only one on the team who House respected. Whether it was true or not, Foreman had missed his window of opportunity to actually squeeze something worthwhile out of Cuddy, and he was stuck with unenviable task of reining House in when House definitely didn't want it.

Foreman had had a shitty summer. No job, no relationship after he'd broken up with Wendy. He'd taken the opportunity of some time off to write articles and work on his contacts--he'd even gone to a conference in August, combining it with some long-overdue vacation--but mostly he'd been hitting the pavement, looking for the perfect job. Mercy had been it. He'd only been there a month, and he'd already felt so goddamn confident. This was his in. His chance to make his mark on the field. And he'd had an amazing catch with his lymphoma patient. One glance at her lactic acid level and he'd immediately felt like he'd been struck by lightning. He was so damn sure he was as good as House, able to synthesize the answer from one lab result. And he'd been right--but that wasn't good enough.

The weather outside tonight seemed to echo his feelings. Long, grumbling rolls of thunder accompanied the downpour. Foreman pulled on his overcoat and got his umbrella. On Monday morning he'd be back here, shoved into House's insane little game for hiring a team that Cuddy had explained to him, and he wouldn't want to be here, nor would he be wanted. Until then all he had to do was stew over the situation. Any distraction would be more than welcome, but Foreman couldn't think of much to fill his time with. He headed for the doors, but he didn't walk out right away. He waited just inside the doors, staring out at the weather as if he hoped for some break in the storm. Probably about as likely as a change in his own luck.

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Amber gave her hair a few last strokes before putting the brush down and checking herself in the mirror. She'd gone light on makeup since they'd be getting hot and heavy soon and too much face-painting could lead to unfortunate results. Rubbing off mascara onto his skin might prove hilarious, but it wasn't the effect she was aiming for.

Anyway, she looked fabulous. Hands on her hips, Amber admired herself from several angles. She not only looked gorgeous, she felt it. She was about to sleep with the first man of her picking, just like that! All she'd had to do was be herself. She was good, yes she was.

She dabbed perfume behind her ears, nothing much, just a hint of it. Anything else she should do before he got here? Drinks she could offer him when he arrived, though she'd had enough dallying, she wanted to reach the main course already. She'd made her bed that morning and nothing needed neatening. Everything they might need for sex was in the bedstand, easy to get. The toys were stored in the closet, but if their chemistry on the dancefloor was any indication, they wouldn't need aids to have mind-blowing sex. That was it, then.

Or not. She needed to make sure she woke up early tomorrow. Wrinkling her nose, Amber set her alarm clock for six-thirty. No matter what happened, she couldn't be late. House could axe her on the spot if she were. Though, she sighed, he might also fire her for being on time.

She was saved from dwlling on House's whims when the buzzer rang. She strode back to her living room and picked up the interphone by her front door. "Hey sexy." She rang him in.

Foreman dropped his gaze to his feet, smirking to himself at Amber's greeting. If it was just for show, he'd probably find it trite or corny, but she said it with the same casual honesty that she'd used all night. Damn, she was good. Made him feel exactly as sexy as she said--not that he usually had many doubts on that score. Foreman pushed the door open and let it shut behind him, walking the few feet to her front door. He tried the handle, although usually he'd knock first. Manners before assumptions. In this case, though, after the rest of the evening, it seemed redundant. "Hey yourself," he said warmly, dragging his gaze over her, admiring everything he saw. Returning the compliment in a glance. She looked amazing, and more than just her appearance, it was the flush on her cheeks, and the provocative interest in her eyes. Made him want to pick up exactly where they'd left off in the restaurant, and then the parking lot.

First things first. Foreman slipped his coat off his shoulders and hung it on a coat stand just inside the door. The living room looked warm, homey, and Foreman was impressed by that, too--even if Amber was keeping up a doctor's ridiculous hours at the hospital, she still had time to actually live in her apartment. It was comfortable, and had a clear sense of her personality. No-nonsense but undeniably alluring. Foreman raised his eyebrows at her, then, and waited to see what Amber would do next. Play the hostess or simply pull him to the bedroom. Foreman wanted her to feel comfortable and in control, not that he had any worries that she'd let this happen any other way; mostly, he was curious, and hoping she felt like he did, that the preliminaries had already been more than adequately addressed.

Pity they'd had to separate before getting to a place where they could get down to "business": tweaking her appearance and prepping the apartment was nice, and Amber felt thoroughly appreciated with Eric's hungry gaze as he come in. But those things couldn't compare to the thoughtless passion they'd been sharing in the bar and against her car; she wished Eric, upon walking into her apartment, had pushed her up against the closest surface and started to kiss her, unable to wait any longer. She felt almost rejected. Maybe she should've gotten naked before he arrived, after all.

But if Eric wasn't wise enough to take what he wanted, she'd take it herself. Amber stalked towards Eric, slowly, her eyes fixed on him. She approached him til they were toe to toe and then stood there for several breaths, motionless, reading him. He seemed eager, excited, and yet he held back. Was he waiting for her initiative?

Without warning she grabbed shirt collar, pulling him to her. She murmured, "Just do me one favor: don't hold back." With one tug his lips were on hers, warm and pliant and wanting.

Amber fixed him with a stare as she started towards him. Foreman almost felt hunted, by some creature definitely feline. Amber had that look in her eyes, that she knew precisely what she wanted and that he was helpless to stop her. Not that he wanted to. When she stepped closer, Foreman reached out to hold her hips, in almost the same pose they'd had when they were dancing. For a second, while she was that close, meeting his eyes, Foreman wondered what she saw--whether she'd seen the man he presented himself as, confident and successful and damn good at what he did, or if she'd caught a glimpse, maybe even was interested in, whatever part of him wasn't the surface. It hardly mattered now, but Foreman was surprised at that hint of uncertainty in his own reaction. It wasn't difficult to keep from his expression. He was far more intent on the excitement of Amber grabbing his shirt and hauling him closer. Telling him not to hold back.

Foreman didn't plan to do anything of the sort. He answered the moment she kissed him, remembering the warm taste of her mouth from their kiss in the restaurant. He traced her lips with his tongue and then deepened the kiss. He spread his fingers wider on her hips, then pushed his hands around to cup her ass, pull her tight against his body. He pushed her back, walking with her--like dancing, he thought again. He didn't know the obstacles in her apartment, and he'd only gotten the barest glance behind her. He hadn't exactly had time to chart a course to her bedroom, and he was already absorbed in the kiss. Paying attention to how she responded. Tilting his head to get the perfect angle, then pulling back slightly to suck on her lip before moving back into the kiss. Breathing in the spicy scent of her--stronger, now, and Foreman guessed it was perfume. He glanced up barely before he walked Amber right back into the wall beside the hallway, and slowed them both before he pressed Amber up against it. Not the bedroom, but it would do for the moment. Foreman settled his weight more firmly against her. Jesus, yeah. She might push back--Foreman was already anticipating it--but for now he was on top, in control, and enjoying every second of it. They hadn't lost any of that sparking connection that had made him kiss her like this in the middle of the bar. That feeling that drew him to her. Foreman lifted one hand to cup her cheek and kissed her again.

Amber growled her appreciation. Now this was more like it. She loved the way he held her, firm and strong, like he could pick her up and carry her off to wherever... if she let him, that is. She loved that power, and she loved how tightly he held on to her ass. Yet, even through her excitement, Amber took note that the first body part Eric went to grope was her behind. That was telling, she was sure. Telling of what, she didn't know, but she might find out.

She was torn between pressing up against him to feel his body with her own and following his lead backwards. She might have opted to rub back against him, but she was more engaged with kissing him, reacquainting herself with the curve of his lips and exploring his mouth with her tongue. He tasted of their earlier wine, and a bit of something else; she suspected it was his own scent.

Distracted, she let him guide her. She half-wondered where they'd end up and smiled when they reached the wall. Was he too impatient to go all the way to her bedroom? Given their rough play, she was surprised when he cupped her cheek: the tenderness was out of place in this moment. Amber wasn’t prepared for intimacy. Without thinking, she bit Eric’s tongue, sinking her teeth in. Not hard enough to hurt, but more sharply than she had his hand in the bar. It was an overreaction, she knew, but he probably hadn’t noticed.

Amber ran her hands beneath his suit, and she delighted in feeling up his back, the material of his shirt and coat adding to the tactile textures. When she reached his shoulders, she brought her hands to his lapel and stripped him of his jacket. She tossed in the general direction of the nearest couch, not checking if it reached the destination or not. “Much better.” She smirked, looking him over with one layer less. “But it can be even better.” Kissing his jugular, Amber started undoing his shirt’s buttons.

Foreman caught sight of Amber's grin as he pushed her more firmly against the wall, and it made his heart kick into a faster rhythm all on its own. Like he was falling into her trap, exactly where she wanted him, whether he was on top or not. He grinned back, waiting for the challenge. It came a second later--Amber bit him, and Foreman hissed, jerking his head back, before returning to kiss her even harder. He wasn't going to let her get the better of him that easily. It hurt like a bitch for a second, but after that it only heightened the sensation of the kiss, making everything sharper, more immediate. Foreman felt the throb of his pulse in his tongue and in his cock as he pushed against her. He was getting hard again, and he panted lightly when Amber ran her hands up his back. It was starting to take more of his concentration not to rush ahead too fast. More when Amber started stripping him down.

Foreman shrugged out of his suit coat. "You're making a lot of promises," he said, taunting her lightly, not hiding the quickness of his breathing but not wanting her to think that he was too easy either. He hummed contentedly when she started moving her kisses along his neck. The flutter of her fingers against his buttons turned him on, seeing how intent she was on getting him naked. He wanted to return the favour. See all of her. Every curve he'd felt through her clothes while they were dancing, when he'd pulled her close. He slipped his hands under the hem of her blouse, trailing his fingertips over her stomach, then spreading his palms wider as he continued up. Exploring, cupping her breasts through the lacy fabric of her bra, brushing his thumbs across her nipples. Foreman watched her through his eyelashes, looking for her reaction, then pinched one nipple, sharply, through her bra. Not quite revenge, but Foreman had a feeling Amber wanted something spicier than simple caresses. "Is that what you mean by better?" he murmured, tilting his head to whisper the words against her ear.

Bitten, Eric changed. He lost some of his control, no longer playing the suave man running a seduction according to the Ladies' Man's Guide to Satisfying Women. The way he hissed and kissed harder, Amber was pretty sure he'd started to go for what he wanted—- a prospect far more interesting than pandering to what he thought she wanted.

Pleasure jolted straight to her clit when Eric's hand started the journey up her blouse, though she tried to remain focused enough to finish unbuttoning his shirt. She was but a couple of buttons short of completing that mission when she threw her head back, a broken gasp forced out of her. He'd pinched her nipple, and it hurt. But her gasp segued into shuddering breaths as she arched into Eric and those fingers tweaking her breast. Her pelvis thrust forward of its own accord and happily met with Eric's own hardness; breathing more heavily, she ground against him once, twice--

But she wanted something else. "It's a start," Amber answered Eric's question, her eyes half-lidded. Her hands flew to undo the last of his buttons and pull off his shirt; this time, she couldn't be bothered to throw it far, she just dropped it. Matters were more urgent now, her nipples and pussy at full alert and demanding proper attention.

Oh, but he was beautiful: toned and sculpted, hairless aside from the patches beneath his arms. Shirt off, his musk was even stronger, and it made Amber light-headed with desire. She greedily palmed his sides and pecs; she had to explore all that carefully, with hand and mouth. There was a black-ink tattoo, too, that she'd have to examine. Maybe she could get the story behind that one. Compare it with her own.

But Amber was goal-oriented, and she'd set herself on one. "We can make it even better, though." Her hands firm on his bare shoulders-- his skin was so smooth-- she decisively pushed him down til he was on his knees, his head was at her chest level. She quickly ripped her blouse over her head and guided his face to the breast he hadn't pinched: he was a smart boy, surely he'd get the message.

Amber's gasp, and the faltering of her fingers on his shirt buttons, was exactly what Foreman had been hoping for. A reaction, a strong one, showing just how much he'd affected her, and it was gratifying. Foreman concentrated on teasing Amber's nipples, not squeezing as hard as the first time, but finding them hardened through her bra and rolling them between his fingers. His breath stuttered to a stop when she rolled her hips forward, against his erection, and Foreman breathed out a quick "Yeah," as he pushed back. He was almost disappointed when she concentrated on getting his shirt off instead of continuing that rhythm and rubbing against him. He quickly freed his hands from his wrist cuffs and trailed his lips along her neck, leaving hot, sucking kisses on his way down her throat, to the first curve of her breasts. Amber's hands were on him as soon as she dropped his shirt, and it felt damn good, her touch and the eager appreciation in her eyes. He could practically feel her wanting him, and it fed his own desire to do whatever she wanted, show her just how good he could be.

Foreman grunted when Amber pushed at his shoulders. He didn't mind going along with her--especially when she cupped her palm around the nape of his neck and drew him to her breast, only a little faster than he'd meant to go himself. Foreman resisted for a moment, smirking up at her. He kept his hands on her sides, wanting a chance to look. The sight of her was more than arousing, and Foreman could feel his cock beginning to strain against the front of his pants. Amber was half-naked, her breast moving quickly as she breathed, her nipples hard through her bra, her body warm and soft and perfectly curved. Foreman leaned in at last and kissed Amber's stomach before closing his mouth around the nipple she'd wanted him to touch, breathing hotly against her. He ran his tongue over it, teasing, then sucked firmly. Christ, he wanted to hear her moan. Know that he was turning her on. Giving her what she wanted. At the same time, Foreman pressed one hand against her mons, through her skirt, in the same rhythm that he'd been thrusting his hips into hers. It was damn hot, and he wished he could give himself a few firm strokes like that, just enough to keep his frustration in check. Instead, Foreman skimmed his fingertips up her waist, then to her back, reaching for the clasp of her bra and trying to fumble it open--too distracted by the demanding ache in his own groin to open it right away.

Amber bit her lip, grinning widely, basking in the sight of Eric on his knees, admiring her. She was hot, she knew, but the affirmation made her feel all the hotter. She looked down at him, posing a bit, sticking out her chest and emphasizing her heavy breathing. She hummed at the kiss on her stomach, her tummy clenching at the sudden pressure and warmth. Her thong was already so wet she couldn't tell if they were getting more soaked, but she had that rush in vagina that said yes, yes they were.

Her hum became an uncontrollable gasp as he took her nipple into her mouth, the whole of her body straining against him, her hands clasping around the back of his head and pressing him closer. “Yes.” She wanted, need more. And she got it, with his hand going over her mons. She cried out: just a bit more, lower and deeper, and-- she cried out again, this time with frustration, as he took his hand away. So close!

She whipped her hands behind her back, impatient with his fumbling, and unlatched her bra. She shrugged it off and pulled it off, letting it fall besides them. Amber then held Eric's face on either cheek, looking down at him; his pupils were dilated, and he was panting just as hard as she. It was exhilarating, seeing his excitement and eagerness.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd lost herself in lust like this, reacting so quickly and strongly. But it was fun, damn it, going wild. And, as far as she could tell, Eric was just as affected as she. He wanted this as much as she did, if not more. She’d keep on letting go of herself.

"Do it," she taunted. "Make me come here, now."

Foreman groaned, low in his throat, the second Amber's cry sounded in his ears. He wanted her, more with every passing second. He could smell her, and he wanted to get the rest of her clothes off. Out of his damn way. Amber's impatience was just as sharp. Foreman almost laughed at the flash in her eyes as she batted his hand away and undid her bra herself. She took his face in her hands, and Foreman couldn't help a quick glance down to her breasts, newly bared for him, before he met her gaze. He was panting, and the longer he stayed on his knees the more they reminded him that he wasn't twenty anymore, but he felt transfixed, his breathing falling into the same quick pattern as Amber's. Until it stopped entirely. Foreman couldn't get a single gasp past the tightness in his throat. Make me come. Jesus, she was going to kill him, in the best way possible.

Foreman surged to his feet. He wasn't going to miss a challenge like this, not after the way she'd called out, wanton and lost in what he was doing, even when it had only been for a moment. He reached behind her, finding the zipper on her skirt with ease, and this time concentrating enough to open it with one swift tug. It fell to her feet in a whisper of fabric. A second later Foreman was dipping his fingers under the waistband of her panties, feeling the incredible heat of her, the slick wetness between her thighs. God, it was amazing. So fucking hot. All for him.

More smug than he could possibly say, Foreman leaned in long enough to murmur, "Anything you say," before he bent down to trace Amber's areola with his tongue. His fingers were already moving, finding her clit and rubbing firmly. He licked across her nipple, moving away and then coming back, wondering if she'd tug him into place the way she had before. Yeah, he'd do anything she said--he was almost surprised at how eager he was to let her guide him--but not right away. Not without challenging her in his turn. Foreman let his fingers slide lower, exploring, before he slipped one finger inside her. He closed his eyes, imagining pushing inside her, feeling her muscles tighten around his cock. It would be so good. Foreman was barely able to keep his voice level as he teased her one last time, lifting his head from her breast to watch her face as he thrust his finger slowly inside her, only occasionally flicking his thumb over her clit. "Looks like you're the one getting that reward," he said, wondering if, in this moment, she even remembered her promise.

Her heart raced harder as Eric rose to his feet, determination and smugness all over his face. He was gloating, she could tell, that such a hot woman was demanding sexual services of him. Under most circumstances she'd have rolled her eyes, but here, radiated with his heat and frantic with horniness, his confidence was hot. And it wasn't as if he didn’t a foundation for that self-assurance; wasn't she close to coming with just a few minutes of making out?

Amber moaned with relief when he finally put his fingers where they should be, damn it, between her legs. She watched his brow furrow with concentration as he touched her; looked down to see his hand slipping into the band of her thong. Oh, god, that was hot. Her view was obstructed when Eric dipped his head to her breasts, and that was okay, because no image was as arousing as the sensation of his tongue on her nipple. He pulled away and came back quickly enough, but Amber wasn't going to tolerate that kind of nonsense, not when she was burning up with need. She held on to the nape of his neck to make sure he didn't deviate again. She hoped he'd bite.

But he wasn't just teasing her with her mouth; the bastard was playing her with his hand. Amber rocked on his fingers, trying to fuck herself on them, since he wasn't having the decency of doing it properly. If she were alone, she'd know exactly where and how to touch herself to reach a fast and satisfying climax. Then again, if she wanted to be alone, she wouldn't be between a wall and Eric, wantonly squirming under his caresses. The frustration was a part of the fun.

By now Amber couldn't stop making noises, gasping and groaning and whimpering. She could hold it all back, if she wanted to, but she didn't. This was so much better, seeing how much her own reactions were affecting him. Feeding off each other's frenzy, they went higher and higher.

When he spoke, Amber's eyes fluttered, taking a moment to process his words. "You'll get your due-- just, now, faster." She ground herself on his hand to make her point even clearer.

Foreman hummed against Amber's breast when she tightened her hands on the back of his head. He had no idea why he was encouraging her to hold him, to grab and pull and put him where she wanted. He liked knowing what she wanted, he liked provoking reactions from her and forcing her to give him signs--moans and tight, high whimpers pouring from her mouth, the slight scratch of her fingernails against the back of his neck--but that wasn't the only reason. Foreman usually tried to give his dates exactly what they wanted, sooner than they knew themselves what would turn them on. He didn't hold back, he didn't tease like this--not the first time. Maybe it was just that it seemed like confronting Amber, even as indirectly as this, was what she wanted, but even more than that, Foreman was enjoying the way she made no secret of how she felt. Wasn't afraid to ask for more--to demand it, if he wasn't fast enough for her. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this turned on when he'd barely even been touched. She hadn't so much as run her hand over his erection through his pants, and he was still hard and aching for her. For the reward she still insisted he was going to get.

Amber was rocking against his hand, tiny mewling noises escaping her mouth with each frantic push against him, and Foreman couldn't hold back a half-murmured, "So fucking gorgeous," as he brushed a kiss across her lips. She was. Naked against her own living room wall, supported by him as much as he could manage. Her eyes fluttering shut, a warm flush moving high over her cheeks and down her throat, and every sound she made spurred him on. Foreman could feel the quick pull of her breath against his mouth, and he knew he couldn't push her any longer. The more he drew this out, the further away he was pushing the moment when she'd finally touch him. Foreman hooked his fingers in Amber's panties and pushed them down her thighs, and this time, when he touched her, he didn't hold back. He pushed another finger inside her, reaching upwards, searching out her g-spot and starting a quick, hard rhythm, pushing the heel of his hand against her clit. "Yeah, so close," he said quietly. "Come on..." He followed the encouragement with more kisses against her collarbones, then along the pulse in her throat. With his free hand, he reached for her breast again, pinching her nipple lightly, but this time not letting go. Not backing off. "Show me."

Amber blushed in a way that had nothing to do with arousal. Men-- and women-- said the darndest things in the throes of passion, including love declarations and over-the-top compliments. She knew better than to think Eric meant anything more by "fucking gorgeous" than that she was turning him on. This was sex, nothing more and nothing less. Still, it flustered her. Amber wasn't used to being called beautiful. The softness of his brief kiss didn't help. For a second, her heart ached with an unknown longing.

She was soon distracted, however, with an onslaught of sensation as Eric pulled out all the stops. Whimpering slightly, the whole of Amber curved, her back arching, her head falling back, her legs stretching till she was on the tip of her toes. She rode Eric's hand, not even able to think straight, just wanting and wanting. "Oh," she cried, as she peaked higher and higher. "Oh, god--" His insistent pinch over her nipple, his mouth along her throat, the scent of their mixed musk and sweat, it was all too much. Amber reached her limit and came back crashing down, thrashing against him. She wasn't sure what happened next; she probably moaned, rubbed against him, shuddered.

All she knew was that she ended up on Eric, leaning most of her weight against him. She opened her eyes and found herself staring straight into his. What a magnificent shade of brown Eric’s eyes were. How sweet he looked, happy like he'd accomplished the greatest of feats, making her come. How nice it felt, her bare breasts against his naked chest. She knew this dopey and affectionate feeling came from the hormone rush she'd just gotten. But it was okay. She smiled lazily, sated. "Hey there," she said, kissing his cheek.

Foreman tore away from kissing Amber's throat as she started calling out, her body quivering against him. God. Oh, fuck yes. Amber trembled as he pushed harder, faster, and Foreman didn't want to stop. He wanted to see her orgasm break over her face, and a second later, he did--he could feel it, as she clenched around his fingers, and for a few long seconds Foreman only watched her, panting harshly. A moment later, Amber opened her eyes, the pupils dilated, her expression warm and lazy as she kissed his cheek.

"Hey," Foreman said. He slowly pulled his hand away from her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Even that was almost too much. Feeling her against him. He'd been holding himself back, and he was so hard now it nearly hurt. Couldn't wait much longer. Reward or no reward. The sight of her, the scent of her on his fingers, and now the warmth of her body as he held her were all driving him to move this forward. "I assume there's--a bedroom--around here?" he asked, kissing her jaw between words and trying to give her a moment to recover.

Foreman ran his palms down Amber's back, then hitched his hands under her thighs and lifted her up, grinning up at her. He settled her weight against his hips, trying to muffle his gasp as her body pressed against his erection. The sensation, the pressure, was incredible, and he shifted his grasp and let Amber rest back against the wall for a moment as he adjusted his grip. The last thing he wanted to do was drop her. "I never got the tour." He started down the hallway, balancing her, trying his damnedest to concentrate on her, not on the hot, building friction between them every time he took another step.

Amber kept on smiling and, closing her eyes again, hugged his shoulders tightly. The need to come gone, she could revel in the moment. If it were up to her, they'd go slow now, taking the time to fully appreciate each other. She wanted to explore every inch of him, kissing and caressing; she was dying to learn his geography and discover his physical secrets.

But her impatience had spread to him! Now he was the one who couldn’t wait! Amber squealed as Eric hitched her up, and laughed, chest shaking. She was just so happy. If he wanted to keep things fast and hot, she was more than willing to match his pace. She could stay up all night, doing this. In fact, they'd have to, if they were going to do even a fraction of what she wanted!

With a quick maneuver she locked her legs around his thighs, increasing the pressure between their crotches. God, he was so hard, and she'd barely even touched him. Judging from his shallow panting and the way his nails dug into her waist, he was desperate. Hot. Even though she'd just had an orgasm, watching him this crazy for her, she started to feel horny all over again. "First door to the left, you can't miss it," she breathed.

He was so focused, frowning and controlling his breathing. Would they make it to the bed before he came, his pants still on? She had plans for that reward she'd promised, and besides those, oh how she wanted him inside her, his dick sliding through her wetness as they fucked hard. But she was too curious: could she make him come now? "We're gonna need an encore," Amber murmured into his ear before licking its entire length, slowly. She rocked her hip against his erection, grinding as best she could in this precarious set-up. "If I tried to give you your reward now, you wouldn’t last five seconds!”

Foreman nodded sharply at Amber's directions. He might miss her bedroom, stop in the hallway again, work open his fly with one hand and shove his pants down just enough that she could slide down his body and onto his cock. He grunted hoarsely when she gripped him between her thighs. "Jesus. Amber--" Her name came out exactly as desperate as he was feeling. He wanted to slow down. Lay Amber in her bed and push into her, watch her eyes during the long, hot thrusts. Make her come again, and this time feel it--feel every second of it. The last thing he wanted was to rush, even if he had made her come once already, even if she was already satisfied. He knew he could do better than that.

If Amber didn't force his own orgasm out of him first. She licked at his ear, her warm tongue contrasting with the cool air as she breathed on the wet trails she'd left. The shivers seemed to connect straight to his dick, her words echoing exactly what he'd already been thinking. "Hey," Foreman protested weakly. He didn't like hearing that she thought he couldn't last. Even if she was right. "At least twenty." There was no way Foreman would tell Amber that she was going to make him come in his pants, but it seemed like she already knew it. He took another few steps, the pleasure increasing with each one. God. He couldn't help pushing against her, again and again, rubbing off with every step. Felt so fucking good. He was determined to make it, though, and he turned slightly, pushing Amber's bedroom door open with his shoulder and then stepping across to the bed. His arms were starting to shake. He had to let Amber down, but he did it slowly, feeling every inch of the contact as she slid over his body.

It might not be suave, but Foreman was already reaching for his fly. He was going to get them tangled in his shoes if he wasn't careful, and he wasn't going to make a fool of himself by tripping over his own pants. He toed off his shoes and yanked his fly down. He was panting, wanting Amber to touch him, wanting to get free of his boxers. A few seconds later, he'd managed it, all of it while--he hoped--only looking mildly ridiculous. Naked, he stepped forward again, and reached for her.

Amber made the most of the last few steps she took on Eric, the bumping and the grinding, and did all that she could to make him come, nibbling his ear and the side of his jaw. He lasted, though! She was half disappointed that she'd failed, but also glad: by losing, they could have more fun now. "Maybe fifteen," she conceded as she stepped down on her bare feet-- she'd kicked off her high heels along the way.

While he was busy stripping himself of his last bits of clothes, Amber dug into her bed stand drawer, grabbing a condom and her water-based lube. They could do anything, but the less work they set up for later, the safer would be whatever they ended up doing. Amber waved the items in either hand, smirking. "Time to choose, Dr. Eric Foreman: fuck me now? Or will you take your reward? Though if you'll allow me to be so bold, I suggest doing me first: you'll enjoy your reward better if you're not, uh, quite so aroused. And depending on how you hold up, you can always fuck me again." She teased, purposefully increasing her politeness to contrast how he was standing naked before her, his dick straining upwards, all of him twitching for her touch. It was the first time she’d gotten a good look at him without clothes, and what a sight. She could watch him all day, the way his chest rose and fell, the tone of his muscles, the intensity of his gaze. She felt powerful, the object of so much desire.

Foreman barely had the presence of mind to work through all the different options that Amber presented him with. He reached for her at the same time that he was struggling to get his control back, bring his arousal down so that it wouldn't cloud his mind or his judgement. "Is there an 'all of the above'?" he asked. He couldn't believe she was presenting him with a menu when all he wanted was to touch her. To have her touch him. Even so, every word she said was bringing him closer to the edge, the images practically assaulting his mind's eye, playing out in full colour in front of him. Making him want her even more.

Foreman gripped her hips and stepped forward, enough that she might be off-balance--the bed was right behind her, probably hitting the back of her knees--but all Foreman noticed was how much better it was rocking against her, pulling her hips forward to meet his, now that there were no layers of fabric between them. He could feel the warmth of her body, the brush of her pubic hair against his erection. Foreman kissed her, trying for all of a second to make it gentle, soft, but a moment later he groaned against her lips and deepened the kiss. Everything was circling together for him. All the feelings, the sensations. He ran his hands up her sides, feeling the dip at her waist, the swell of her breasts against his hands, and then moved his grip down her arms. He caught her hand and took the condom from her. "This first," he whispered, and kissed her a second longer before moving away.

He didn't want to. Not even for the second it took him to sit down on the edge of her bed and tear the condom packet open. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, to watch Amber's face, even as he stroked himself just enough to spread his precome from the head to the shaft. Felt amazing. Like his skin was about to burst into flames. So hot. He got the condom on, rolling it down quickly, and then lay back on the bed and waited for her to join him.

She should've known better than to expect complex brain functions, like choosing between A and B, from a man about to get his rocks off. Just earlier she herself had been barely capable of processing what Eric had been saying at her. She grinned. How flattering, that she could short-circuit his mind. "We can swing that, and more," she promised, eyes twinkling.

And, oh wow, had he lost it. Amber gasped as her legs banged against the bed, and once more as he took hold of her, rubbing his hips against hers, like he just couldn't hold back anymore. Hot. She kissed back eagerly, her tongue pushing against his almost competitively, but what were they going to win besides mutual satisfaction? She moaned, letting him do what he wanted with her, out of curiosity as to what he wanted and from the sheer pleasure of being taken by force. “Ravaged,” her romance novels would’ve called this pawing.

Amber let the lube drop to the bed. Eric didn’t seem to want it, and she was wet enough to take on five men. But she only wanted the one, anyway. She climbed on to the bed on her hands her knees, letting her hair brush against him as she made her way up. As impatient as Eric was, she couldn’t resist squeezing him in a couple of places: his ass, his thigh, his bicep. She would feel him up, soon. Soon.

She settled over his pelvis and bent over him so that they were face to face. “Ready?” She whispered, her lips moving across his cheek, and then angled herself onto his dick, breathing in sharply at the sudden pressure inside her. It felt fucking fantastic, it really did, but that first moment could be a shock.

Foreman watched Amber from under half-closed eyelids. All his senses seemed magnified. The rough sound of his own breathing in his ears. The scent of their sweat. The softness of her sheets underneath him. And the sight of her. Crawling onto the bed, towards him, every inch of her a promise. She teased at first, her hair tickling against his chest, and Foreman felt his breath hitch as she only touched him in places he was barely paying attention to. One quick squeeze on his thigh and then she was moving on. But a second later she was poised above him, and Foreman's breath stopped entirely. "Yeah," he answered her. Yeah. More than ready. More than close.

The second she lowered herself down on him was mind-blowing. By sheer force of will, Foreman let her go as slowly as she needed to, without thrusting up sharply. But God, he wanted to. Wanted it so badly. She was tight and slick around him, so wet that he hadn't needed the lube she'd held out to him a moment ago. He'd known that from the moment he'd touched her, used his fingers. And it was just as hot as he'd imagined. The pleasure seemed to expand in his brain, pulsing upwards from his groin and filling his whole damn body. "Oh, yeah. That's--yeah, like that." He cupped her ass again--no clothes, no skirt in his way, and he loved the firm warmth under his palms--and urged her to sit just a little closer. Just enough to get the perfect angle. Foreman pushed up slowly, feeling enveloped in her. She looked so good, her breasts bouncing slightly as he started moving inside her. Couldn't hold back. He could feel his balls tightening, the heavy weight of pleasure low in his stomach that meant this wasn't going to last the way he'd like. Foreman reached for Amber's clit again. From everything she said he'd bet that he could make her come again, that she was already aroused enough that it would be easy. He started rocking his hips upwards, a short groan escaping him as he did, and then rubbed her clit with his thumb as he relaxed. Letting her have both sensations, one after the other, like a building wave. Might not be enough time. Not before he came. The urge to move, to fuck her hard, was growing, but for one last moment Foreman held it back.

How hard Eric was struggling to hold himself in! What for? Did he have to maintain that perfect image of himself, the all-night-goer, even on the brink? Or was he really that considerate, letting his partner lead? Maybe-- but Amber was willing to bet his pride had a whole lot to do with his exertion of will-force.

Amber sat up, adjusting her knees on either side of him to get into the best pumping position. That first slide took a moment, stretching her, but now it just felt good, really fucking good, the in and out and in again. She loved the grind of his dick in her, the repeating impact of their pelvis, the scratch of his pubic hair against her thighs. She wanted to speed up, to piston as fast as possible—but didn’t need to. She could wait it out. It was so much more delicious to watch Eric's exquisite torture, the way he shook with contained lust. She wanted to hear the sounds coming out of him, all because of her.

If he wanted to fuck hard-- well, let him go for it.

Amber purposefully brought the pace down, each thrust agonizingly slow and strong. A moan escaped her. Though it usually took her a while to come a second (and third, and fourth) time, another climax was already building up inside her, hottest in her clit and flaring out through the rest of her. And Eric was only helping with finger her pussy, in just the right way.

She'd wait until she made Eric go crazy, first. Upright, she couldn't mouth him, but there was plenty more she could do. She grasped his left his thigh for support and, with her right hand, kneaded his balls. "C'mon, Eric," she panted, barely able to get the words out through her labored breathing. "Fuck me."

Foreman swallowed hard, desperate for oxygen, his eyes widening as Amber slowed down. No--not now. He couldn't fucking stand it. She was squeezing him, each stroke feeling like it was taking hours, drawing more out of him than he'd ever want to give away. But she had the advantage and Foreman felt his heart pounding even faster when he realized it. When he realized he didn't want to fight it. Jesus, she could have him any way she damn well wanted, and he'd let it happen, if it felt this fucking good. A second later, she was reaching down for his balls, and Foreman's breath exploded out of him in a short, nearly agonized groan. He couldn't form words. Either to ask her to move or to tell her he needed more. Now.

At the sound of her voice, he broke. With a harsh grunt, he tensed his abs and sat up--still inside her, the change in angle nearly burying him in a wave of pleasure--and wrapped his arms around her, before pulling her down with him. Rolling over her, so that he was on top. A second later he'd pushed up on his knees. She'd asked for it, nearly dared him not to hold back, and Foreman didn't want to. He drove forward, sinking into her, a groan catching in the back of his throat. He panted hoarsely, supporting his weight on his elbows and watching Amber's face as he started a fast, hard rhythm. Giving in. Getting lost in her. Letting out sounds--her name, tiny, begging yeahs, anything. Anything. Pushing forcefully, forgetting to concentrate on her for the long moment when his orgasm crashed over him. His body jerked and he froze above her, even his sharp cry catching in his throat, before he gave a few more shuddering thrusts and stopped, panting thickly for air.

He tried to recover quickly. His arms were shaking as he held himself up, his chest heaving. He was still hard, the aftershocks washing over him. He stroked inside her slowly, and he met her eyes, wanting to know if she was close, if he could help tip her over the edge.

Amber's gasped at Eric's sudden rise and promptly exclaimed another "oh!" as her back hit the mattress, her breath knocked out of her. Oh, fuck yes, this was what she'd been waiting all night for. He'd played the gentleman, always putting her first, and finally he'd come undone. She crossed her legs behind his back, meeting him stroke for stroke, crying out over and over as he pounded into her. She surrendered herself to the moment, driving her pelvis to bring him in deeper and faster, pleasure jolting through all of her, from her fingertips to her nipples to her vulva. Amber was so caught up she barely registered him calling out her name, but she couldn't have missed how he said it as if she were the center of his world. She groaned, a jolt going from her clit and up her vagina just from hearing that.

Eric's weight, his greedy, impulsive thrusts, the wildness in his eyes as he watched her-- oh, fuck, it was amazing. Amber never wanted this to end. She wanted to distill this moment, have it with her forever.

But if everything had to end, at least this went out with a terrific bang. Enthralled, Amber watched Eric’s face break out into contortions, as if he were giving in to this release despite himself. His body's spasms, erratic, broke the rhythm of their fucking, but she accompanied him, riding out his movements. Oh, god, she loved this, his abandon. Her head hit the mattress a few of times and hip bone banged against hip bone. She might have some bruises to remember this climax by, tomorrow.

“You liked that?” Amber asked once he seemed past his orgasm, her voice honeyed with smug satisfaction. “I told you not to hold back." She kept on rocking against his dick. She didn't think his hardness would last long enough for her to come, but she'd savor every remaining second of it. She arched to rub her breasts on his chest, stroking his back, and kissed him deeply, splaying her tongue against his. She was overwhelmed with the smell of them, his sweat and come mixed with her own. It was a potent combination.

"Mmmn," Foreman agreed, warm and lazy. "You were right." Admitting it didn't cost him anything. He felt too good to worry about anything right now. Amber's legs were still locked around his waist, and she rubbed against him. Foreman kissed her when she reached up to him, meeting her tongue playfully and hitching his hips forward slowly. His muscles felt hot and loose, like he'd come apart and was floating, now. High on endorphins. He was gradually losing his erection, and he'd have to pull out before he risked the condom coming off on its own, but for now he wanted to stay close to her. Connected. Amber stroked her hands down his back, keeping his body pressed against hers. Foreman shifted slightly to kiss along her jaw to her ear, and then down her throat. He'd been so focused in the hallway, so intense, that he hadn't had a chance to explore, and now that he felt so relaxed, he could concentrate on how she tasted--the salt of her sweat, and the slightly harsh taste of her perfume, but mostly warm skin. He licked along her carotid artery, feeling the flutter of her pulse.

"What do you want?" he murmured into her throat. She hadn't climaxed again--he thought, although he'd been so oblivious for a moment that he might have missed it. Foreman wouldn't leave her hanging if she was working towards a second orgasm. He leaned to his right, taking more of his weight on that arm so that he could touch her body again. Cup her breast in his hand, rub his fingertips across her nipple, and then continue down to her clit again. He'd stopped when his orgasm had overwhelmed him. He wanted to give that back to her, that filling, heated sensation. "I could give you a list." He grinned, thinking of how distracted he'd been when she'd offered him a choice. "Touch you like this--" He circled his knuckle over her clit, wanting to feel her quiver and respond. "Or go down on you." He lifted his head to kiss her again, before finishing with a third option, one he was sure she'd appreciate. "Or I could fall asleep on you."

Amber gloated at Eric's admission. You were right. Three little words she'd never tire of hearing.

She sighed happily as he kissed her jaw, her throat. Fucking like rabbits had its definite perks, but this slow, careful exploration, it was so nice. Not that Eric seemed willing to leave it at nice: already he was riling her up again, sending her closer to orgasm by touching key areas. She moaned softly.

"As enticing as the thought of you drooling on me is," Amber joked, "I choose option number four: watch. And don't you dare fall asleep. Or touch me." She rolled them both over, coming out on top. He slipped out of her on the way, for which she was sorry, but that ride was over. For now.

Amber planted her knees on either side of him and came up so that she was kneeling over him, her legs splayed wide open. A few quick strokes over her clit and she’d be done. But if this was going to be a show… she ran her hand over her stomach, caressing herself in slow circles, her eyes never leaving Eric’s. She wanted, needed, to see his reaction. “This is how I do it, when I have no sexy strangers to fuck me.” Not strictly true, but again, this was more about performance. She slid her other hand up to her breast, kneading, tweaking her nipple. She couldn’t stifle a whimper; she really was close, and drawing it out like this, she was torturing herself. Her pelvis rocked back and forth, and that wasn’t faked, she couldn’t stop herself. “Sometimes, I, I—“ Oh, shit, she’d barely started and she was already loosing it. Her eyes fluttered close for a second, even though she wanted to keep watching her audience, and her hand snaked back to between her legs, thumbing her clit. Even without seeing, she could imagine the intensity of Eric’s gaze as she brought herself to climax.

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