okteiviakom | Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Night

"That's better," Lucifer murmured, watching her face with some amount of satisfaction, pulling the silk away from her mouth.

"Now, open up."

They could talk about what had actually inspired this bit of compliance sometime later. And probably should.

(It was self-preservation.)

But right now, after licking her lips to get the feel of silk off them, she opened her mouth. And not to talk.

Well. That was part of why they were doing this, wasn't it? Pushing the boundaries and seeing what feelings it kicked up.

The safe word was as much a promise not to stop pushing until she actually wanted him to as it was a safety measure.

He slid back up her body. Pressed himself into her mouth.

Octavia was more welcoming, this time. Specifically let her tongue drag against him and everything.

There was absolutely no teeth.

"Better," Lucifer murmured.

He didn't trust it.

He rolled his hips once, gently, and swept the remote from the bed. He clicked it on, the lowest setting.

Octavia hadn't entirely forgotten about the toy amidst all the other discomfort, but it had definitely gone on the backburner in her mind.

She made a noise around him. More at the surprise of it, the reminder of it, than the low rumble of the vibration just yet.

But the noise felt nice around him. Lucifer let out a soft groan, the next movement of his hips a little less gentle.

(Testing the boundaries.)

Well, the next noise was a little more wet and a little more strangled.

But it was not a protest. If anything, the little hum right after sounded like a challenge.

Lucifer pushed the intensity setting up by-- a notch?

No. Two.

His fingers slid into her hair, holding her head in place.

Again. Rougher.

This angle was a little more awkward than most, and between that and his hold on her hair, Octavia didn't have much control over any part of this at all.

Barely realized that, though, with the added intensity that drew half her attention squarely down her body, and forced another strangled moan out around him. Yes, that -- that felt more like something.

Good. She didn't get to have control. Not now.

Lucifer found a just-this-side-of-too-rough rhythm he liked, plowing into her mouth with as much abandon as he was willing to give in to. (He didn't want her to get hurt.)

He left the toy buzzing. Let the sound drown his thoughts.

Let the sensation drown out hers.

It was weird how it all blended together, how the pleasure from the toy mixed in with the discomfort of his repeated thrusts into her mouth until they seemed to be one and the same.

Certainly it would have been hard for her to say which of her noises - choked-off moans, grunts, the occasional tiny and wet gagging sound - were caused by what.

All of it felt like surrender.

He wasn't holding back, and so the pleasure built quickly, his balls tightening and pulling up as the muscles in his abdomen contracted. Lucifer let out a loud sigh, and gripped her a little harder, pushing forward one more time, and...

Going just.

A little.

Further.

Oh.

It didn't hurt. But it wasn't comfortable, and it kind of made Octavia's eyes water just a little as she tried to relax her throat, because he'd pushed that little bit further and it was his right to take what he wanted, and hers to let him.

It made her feel... insignificant.

(And so safe.)

Lucifer's hand was softer on her cheek now, somehow. He lingered, taking up whatever space she let him take, and stared down at her pretty face.

"Magazine perfect," he murmured.

He pulled away.

Octavia felt far too much of an odd sense of gratitude.

And that was before he pulled away. After, she inhaled a gasping breath (that sounded a little wet), blinking up at him to clear the blur in her eyes.

Lucifer looked down at her, quietly. Admiring her face. (She was so incredibly beautiful in so many ways.)

He clicked the intensity of the vibe down, idly.

Octavia's body sagged into the mattress a little bit. She barely noticed, like she'd barely noticed it tensing up under all the various sensations, either.

Another breath.

Lucifer tilted his head.

Slid down a few inches, until he was straddling her hips again, and took himself in hand. He worked himself, methodical and fast.

Octavia watched him, her expression open, almost a little lost.

All the fight had really drained out of her again, it seemed.

And so Lucifer stayed where he was.

Jerking himself off. Letting the pleasure build the last of the way.

Letting himself come rather dramatically, spilling himself all over her skin and her leather.

Octavia felt the brief warmth land on her skin. Felt herself shiver with something that felt like longing.

But her eyes had been drawn up to his face, right before. Watching.

Lucifer was breathing heavily, his chest going up... and down... and up... rather rapidly.

The rest of him seemed calm. Quiet. Careful.

He looked up and caught her gaze.

"Now you look right."

"Thank you."

Yeah, those words just fell out, like a sigh, unbidden.

(A sliver of embarrassment tried to fight its way to the top, but just mixed in with everything else.)

"You're welcome," Lucifer said lightly.

He watched her a moment longer.

"Would you like to come?"

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