okteiviakom | The Cape Rouge, Port of Fandom, Monday Afternoon

They were wet, and filthy, and Lucifer would never grow tired of hearing them from her rasping, defiant throat.

He moaned softly as his fingers tightened in her hair again. He wasn't guiding her, he was just... letting her know her efforts were appreciated.

"Ah..."

Octavia might not have objected to guidance, either. But mostly, she just had a very specific sort of adoration for feeling his fingers in her hair.

And she was putting in the effort. There was a sense of determination about it all: where she dragged her tongue against him, how she let her saliva coat his skin, when she sucked him down. All of her focus going towards one goal.

His pleasure was just one of the many things she took seriously.

And he loved it when she took things seriously. Honestly, the look on her face alone was one Hell of an aphrodisiac.

Lucifer's breathing grew shallower by the second. He made no effort to stave off the build-up; she had a plan, and he was very content to follow it.

Instead his fingers kept moving through her hair in broad strokes. Enjoying the feel of it against his skin, as much as he did her mouth. "So, so gorgeous," he sighed.

He was going to inspire a praise kink if he wasn't careful.

Octavia was listening to his breathing, and whatever other noises slipped out. Focused on where he was, and focused on pushing him further. Even when she had to pull her mouth away - with a fairly obscene wet sound - for a few gaspy breaths, her hand came up to work him over.

"Can get rougher with my hair, you know."

It was a distracted, raspy murmur, right before she ducked down to give his poor ignored balls a little lick.

Oh no. Giving Octavia another kink he'd be happy to play with? How terrible.

"Can I, now," Lucifer said, his voice full of amused warmth. "Hm. Let me think on it..."

Or he could just... tug a bit.

And Octavia could just tell him what she thought of that with a rough little needy noise in the back of her throat.

"Rougher than - mm - that, too."

Already working her way back to where she'd been before, with little licks where her hand wasn't around him, hence the distraction.

Lucifer bent forward. "Hoping it'll hurt a little bit?" he asked, his voice low.

But he had no trouble dragging her mouth back onto his cock if she'd asked nicely.

And she had.

So he did.

Octavia hadn't felt the need to answer that question in words, anyway.

She did not put up a fight. As soon as she felt his hand move her head, her lips parted. Welcoming, right on the edge of greedy.

"Yes," Lucifer hissed, as her mouth slid back over him.

He didn't push her that far. Just enough so he could feel her - and he could rock his hips up to meet her mouth without fearing he'd hurt her.

And just enough to give Octavia that little complicated thrill of not feeling in complete control of the situation. She made a noise around him.

He was intoxicating. He knew that, right?

He was well aware of it on a general scale, yes.

Though it was... different, with her.

"Like that, too," Lucifer murmured, not a question. So he fucked up into her mouth again, slow, deliberate.

The noise, this time, was longer. Needier, because that kind of thing felt safe, here.

And didn't keep her from doing the things she'd been doing when it had been her moving. With her lips, with her tongue. He was taking, sure, but she was giving, too.

Lucifer could make this last, if he wanted to.

But it didn't feel right, right now. (He didn't want to lose the feeling of her mouth, but he craved the feeling of being curled up with her, naked and sweaty and tired.)

"You're doing so very well," he murmured, eyes half-lidded as his hips moved a little faster on each thrust. "You're so very good."

... What was another little choked-off noise in between all the others? There was no way of telling how those words seemed to travel down Octavia's spine, and the little shudder could have been anything.

Her hands were pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips, and she could feel the strain in her arms from holding herself where he could do with her mouth as he pleased, and she didn't care.

This felt important. She wanted to be good.

And, well. Right now being good was translating to making sure he got sucked on nice and thorough every time he pulled back.

It felt so good.

Lucifer moaned, a loud noise that seemed to travel all the way from the core of his being. He wanted to drop his head back, but didn't; she deserved to be watched like this.

The pleasure built in his abdomen. His muscles were beginning to grow tight. And still he watched as he fucked her mouth slowly, his eyes on the tight redness of her lips, the determination in her eyes. "That's it," he murmured, eyes half-lidded. "Mm..."

Octavia made another noise, an indistinct moan-hum of a sound. Like encouragement, to keep going, to keep taking.

To keep saying those things to her.

She met a few of his thrusts with a little downward bob of her head. Pushing just that little bit further, chasing -- something.

"Ambitious," Lucifer sighed. "You can't help it, can you? Always have to do-- better."

He ran his fingers down through her hair, encouraging, approving.

Then he gripped it tighter. "Even though I already have the best view in the world..."

The gasp was as muffled as all of Octavia's other noises. And just as appreciative, at its core.

She kept at it.

Lucifer's breathing grew uneven rapidly. He didn't have much more in him, and he knew it.

He slowed his movements until his hips were still against the bed. "Make me come, darling," he said softly, watching her.

Octavia hazarded a quick glance up at him, almost as if she couldn't not.

And then she went right back to it. Mimicking his earlier movements, just from her side, now. A couple of slower bobs to start with, before she picked up a quicker rhythm, meant to overwhelm while still letting her be mindful of the details. Where to drag her tongue, when to suck.

She was an overachiever with a goal. The depth spoke to that, along with her disregard for her own comfort. The noises that happened, how much spit there was. None of it concerned her - especially now that he was almost there.

Lucifer finally allowed himself to let his head drop back, to feel all of it. Pleasure bled openly into his expression, until it was all there was.

He let out a low groan. And then another, higher, and again, until he was moaning with each breath, and his muscles clenched tight--

His fingers clenched tight.

"Octavia," he gasped, and let himself go into her frankly magnificent mouth.

And Octavia saw to it that it wasn't over before he was fully spent. Devoted herself to it, really.

In the moment, it felt like few things beat hearing him like this, feeling him like this. Knowing she was the reason his muscles were taut and his cock throbbed between her lips.

Just her.

Lucifer's fingers loosened in her hair, but they didn't pull away.

He took deep breaths as he came down, his eyes still closed, but-- sitting up a bit.

"You are," he murmured, not for the first time, "A wonder."

Octavia pulled off him, finally, with one last gentle little lick.

And looked up at him. And just breathed.

Lucifer sighed softly.

His fingers slipped out of her hair, along her cheek.

There was a deep fondness in his eyes when he opened them.

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