Octavia Blake (
okteiviakom) wrote2022-02-13 11:31 pm
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Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Night
It was Sunday night. There had been dinner: some nice takeout from some place on the mainland, followed by an even nicer dessert from some other place on the mainland. Panna cotta with fresh fruit was getting up there on Octavia's list of favorites.
But she had other favorite things, too.
And that was probably why they were already halfway up the stairs.
"Was that passionfruit on purpose?"
[ooc: For the Devil, and SP. NSFW bound, most likely.]
But she had other favorite things, too.
And that was probably why they were already halfway up the stairs.
"Was that passionfruit on purpose?"
[ooc: For the Devil, and SP. NSFW bound, most likely.]
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No. Two.
His fingers slid into her hair, holding her head in place.
Again. Rougher.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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Going just.
A little.
Further.
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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.)
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"Magazine perfect," he murmured.
He pulled away.
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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.
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He clicked the intensity of the vibe down, idly.
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Another breath.
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Slid down a few inches, until he was straddling her hips again, and took himself in hand. He worked himself, methodical and fast.
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All the fight had really drained out of her again, it seemed.
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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.
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But her eyes had been drawn up to his face, right before. Watching.
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The rest of him seemed calm. Quiet. Careful.
He looked up and caught her gaze.
"Now you look right."
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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.)
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He watched her a moment longer.
"Would you like to come?"
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Because that was what Octavia did.
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(Like it wasn't her choice. Like it was still his to decide.)
"As you wish," he said, and upped the intensity of the vibrator.
A bit more than earlier.
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Her moan sounded completely involuntary.
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His hand slid over the leather on her breast, searching for her nipple, plucking and playing with it.
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She knew she was ridiculously slick and hot around the toy, and she wanted more and she wanted less, and the vibrations were insistent.
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He leaned down. Wrapped his mouth around her nipple.
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And one of her hands crept away from the sheets, up into his hair.
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He didn't wait for an answer. He sucked, instead.
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