okteiviakom | Lucifer's Mansion, Saturday Night

"I know," Lucifer breathed.

Had half-expected it.

Was still expecting it.

But it was hard to worry about that when his entire body was telling him to smush his face into the mattress to smother the deeply filthy, repetive noises beginning to spill out of him.

Worry or no worry, Octavia let that possibility hang over him and his pleasure. She couldn't see his hand, but she could see the movement in his shoulder, in his arm. And couldn't stop watching.

The grip of her hands on his hips was so tight by now that he was going to end up with tiny crescent indents on his skin from her nails.

She couldn't stop marveling at how she could feel every thrust into him.

Definitely couldn't stop doing it, again.

It wasn't that Lucifer never got this, but-- well. Duke was Duke, and had his own ways. Octavia's unrelenting nature was something else entirely.

Overwhelming, in a very good way.

He felt the pressure building in his abdomen, his hand moving faster and faster just to keep up with her. He moaned helplessly into the sheets, his breath twisting into something vastly more desperate.

And why did that just make Octavia want to push his desperation a little bit further?

"Stop."

It was out of her mouth before she'd even thought it through. But she wasn't stopping anything, oh no. She was still pulling him back into her thrusts at the breathless pace she'd settled into.

The burn in her muscles blended together with the coiling in the pit of her stomach.

That wasn't just a whimper, it was a whine.

And his hand dropped away from his cock immediately, as if her voice had torn straight through his body.

"Does it ache?" Octavia rasped, her voice heavy with... all of this. His obedience, his whine, the way she clenched around the toy.

She wasn't sure she was even expecting an answer. It felt more important to drive home she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

"Yes."

That might have been an answer.

Or a response to the way her latest thrust hit all the right nerves, filling him with something sweet and jagged and aching with the lack of release. He pressed his face to the mattress again. Dug his fingers into the blankets.

That couldn't have shoved her a little closer to the edge, could it? Because it kind of felt like it had. Her breath caught in her throat a little.

"Good," she managed. "You're here for me, first."

But all signs were pointing to his misery not likely being too long, now. The hands on his hips were getting a little restless, like they couldn't bring him back close enough, no matter how hard they tried.

She had set the scene enough that there was a part of him that... wondered. About her coming, with that cock in his arse and his frustrated release so close and yet so far. Tossing him aside, leaving him to his misery until she came down enough to have a use for him again.

It wasn't a fantasy he had ever spent much time on before, but Lucifer was an angel of desire. And it was hard not to develop any new fantasies when her desire was like-- this.

"Only for you," he babbled. "Only for you."

Octavia was going to be nicer than that, this time.

But it was certainly something to think about.

And right now, Octavia was thinking less and less about anything at all. Her hips worked with an increasing sense of desperation, just pushing her closer and closer to where she wanted to get, even as she wanted this feeling to last forever. And not just the physical, but also -- where her mind was.

Confident and unquestionably in control.

A stray thought pictured him like he was, but with his hands bound. Too bad she didn't tell him that was what ripped that strangled moan from her.

Lucifer wanted to touch himself so badly, the instinct almost overrode all sense. It was that mental image that kept him where he was, clinging to the bed in a desperate attempt to keep his hands busy.

To endure the pleasure, the sounds she was making.

He managed to turn his head just enough to catch sight of her from the corner of his eye.

Octavia, moving like a bloody conqueror.

He whimpered into his arm.

Guess this was what was still left of the queen she'd been. This vicious, relentless, deeply private part of her that had found an outlet and was digging its claws right into it.

Or pounding her dick into him, as the case may have been.

Octavia met his glance, caught that little one-third glimpse at his face and the beautiful, desperate strain written all over it. Her breath stuttered again, and --

"N-now, do it."

He'd have to be quick if he wanted to join her in going over the edge, because she could feel it revving up and maybe if she really tried, she could hold it off for the length of more than one thrust --

He was never going to make it. Not after all that, the stretches of waiting, pleasure cresting high and then falling again.

But Lucifer tried anyway, his fingers gripping desperately around his cock. Moving without finesse, just hurtling towards an edge that seemed too-far and too-close all at once.

As soon as she saw his arm move again, Octavia lost just about all focus she'd had on him. Her eyes squeezed closed on their own, and everything fell away except the sensation of the movement into him pressing the toy against her.

She made it through two rough, desperate thrusts before the pleasure burst inside her, and she choked on air as it seemed to clench-and-release its way through her.

But did she stop?

No. The movements just got... messier, more erratic.

Lucifer choked on his own moan, his forehead rubbing back and forth against the blanket. Release just wouldn't come, and he was desperate for it, moving and moving and moving and--

Oh.

There it was.

"Octavia," he sighed.

Guess she'd made good on that promise to make him forget all other names.

After one last stutter or two, Octavia's hips finally slowed down, then stopped, the toy still buried in him, her hands still on his hips though her deathgrip was finally loosening.

She just breathed, deep gasping breaths.

Lucifer let out a loud breath of his own. Felt like so much pressure falling out of him.

"Fuck," he said, with all his heart.

Octavia's next breath sounded faintly like a startled laugh.

Her hand finally left his hip as she leaned over him - and reached for his phone.

"Mmm?" Lucifer hummed. He'd realize what she was doing in a second.

"He's gonna want to see this," Octavia said, faintly, as she straightened up again.

Flicked the camera open.

Lucifer let out a huff. "Mm," he managed again, and then, realizing he should say more, "He absolutely will."

Octavia snorted softly. And took a picture of her view, trying to get as much of him into the shot as possible, to really capture what a wreck he was.

"This one, you should probably send to me, too."

She dropped the phone aside onto the bed again. Rubbed at the small of his back a little, then finally went to pull the toy out.

"I will," Lucifer promised.

The toy drew a final gasp from him as she pulled it out. When it was gone, he collapsed in a happy, spent heap across the blankets.

He'd deal with the wet spot in a second.

Octavia had clearly put the phone away a little too soon, but oh well. She'd just have to remember this one on her own.

(And strive to see it again.)

She slid the other end of the toy out, too, with a soft sigh. Set it aside, then stretched out where she could rest her head against the back of his shoulder and her hand against his back.

She felt like cuddling.

"That was lovely," Lucifer sighed. "You are one Hell of a ride, if you don't mind me saying so, miss Octavia."

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