"You're lucky because you're young," House says, breathy as his head moves from her collar to her long neck, the throb there an answer to the throb and damp, curling heat there. He bites, tastes the salt of her skin between his teeth, without asking permission.
"You have a good excuse for treasuring your life. But if I wanted to read you, I would. People aren't as complicated as they like to portray themselves as in fiction. Nobody is. Everyone's simple."
He curls two fingers between her legs with a sigh, slipping in, still dry, to scratch blunt, short nails against the velvet softness there.
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Date: 2013-09-28 07:39 am (UTC)"You have a good excuse for treasuring your life. But if I wanted to read you, I would. People aren't as complicated as they like to portray themselves as in fiction. Nobody is. Everyone's simple."
He curls two fingers between her legs with a sigh, slipping in, still dry, to scratch blunt, short nails against the velvet softness there.
"Different shades of simple."