okteiviakom | Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Night

The audio was sent somewhere in the middle of it. Lucifer wasn't paying much attention to it, not really. The pleasure built, and built, pushed onward by the incessant buzzing in his arse.

It was close. So close. So--

He gasped, wrenching his hand away from himself, and whined. A fumble. The camera, back on, pointed at his straining cock. "I didn't," he breathed. "I stopped, I did."

Send.

That audio sounded obscene to Octavia, right now. And spurred her on in moving her hand, sliding her fingertips back and forth, keeping herself quiet even though there was no one here to hear her.

And then, exquisite video of just how obedient he was. Who could blame her for focusing on herself for just a moment longer, there? And a few filthy memories, equally filthy hopes --

Good devil, she managed, eventually. And thought about things for a second, what she wanted to hear, or see, and how likely he would be able to operate his phone much at all soon.

And now there was an incoming video call - though her camera was pointed towards the ceiling.

Lucifer let out a soft gasp - was it the incoming call, or a particularly evil twist of the beads in the plug that did it? Who even knew anymore.

He pressed a thumb that felt entirely too big and clumsy right now to the phone and accepted the call, treating Octavia to the sight of his hair in disarray, sweat sliding along his skin.

He was a mess. And it was amazing.

Octavia turned her own camera all the way off so she could hold the phone however she wanted. He didn't get to see her right now, that wasn't how this worked.

"Hi," she said. A beat. "Five."

That was all.

Lucifer tore his eyes away from the phone and swallowed, running his fingers through his messy hair. "'right," he managed, groping around for the remote, and-- there.

He didn't quite cry out, but the groan had a desperate edge as the toy moved its pace to too much.

He remembered it.

"Too much?"

All rasp. Maybe a little breathy at the end, there.

"Not even six."

Oh, she knew the difference between those two was probably minimal, especially in the state he was in now.

"It's-- a lot," Lucifer panted - though at least the memory of his hands on his cock wasn't as far away as it had been the last time she'd used this on him.

"Talk to me about it."

She wanted to listen to the strain in his voice some more.

"I don't," Lucifer managed, "I don't know what to say that I haven't."

He blew out a breath.

"It's maddening."

"Try."

Octavia considered making a (potentially empty) threat, but, no.

"It feels like I'm so close to coming," Lucifer managed, "Like something... something keeps me on the edge, it keeps moving, but it's not. Not enough."

He was proud of himself for managing that much, considering the moan that followed.

Octavia gave that attempt a little 'mmm' that didn't betray anything else she was doing. The steady, insistent movement of fingers over wet skin, bringing her closer to the edge.

She was still watching whatever of him she could see. Still relishing in that one-way connection.

"You know what?" she breathed. "Six."

That was... some strangled noise Lucifer made, yes. (Even if at this point it wouldn't matter. Not that much.)

His hand slid obediently to the remote. Fumbled. Dialed it up.

His hips rocked up into a grip that wasn't there.

That it mattered enough that he made that noise was enough for Octavia.

Who was definitely hoping to hear more noises from him, in fact. While she herself went quiet again.

(Apart from sounds he didn't get to hear.)

He really-- he really-- really needed his hand back on him again.

Or her hand. For a moment, the thought of Octavia's pretty calloused fingers around him filled Lucifer's mind. "Oh," he sighed, "Yes."

His eyes were firmly shut. His hips were making little movements now, into the plug. "It's just," he managed, "So close. You are--"

There were few things Octavia enjoyed as much as reducing Lucifer to this, what seemed like a mix of pure need and incomplete phrases.

And she was ignoring his need. (For now.) She was still staring at the screen, of course, but her focus was turning inward - in more ways than one. His noises, his words, it all became the best possible soundtrack for how she finally upped the intensity of her hand rubbing over her core, finally committing to chasing the edge instead of courting it.

She bit down hard on her bottom lip. So close.

And here Lucifer was, just trying to hang on until she'd finally offer him salvation - or leave him to his fate again.

He was still babbling, but nothing much came out that made much sense. Snatches of memory, mostly. Comments on how beautiful he imagined she was right now.

His fingers tangled in the sheets and clung on. Reduced, now, to soft gasps and small moans. (It wasn't the toy, was the thing. It was the thought of doing this for her.)

The only thing that could have made it more perfect would have been if he'd begged. But there was more than enough of that... desperation, in his babbling. Octavia's eyes squeezed closed, finally, minimizing the world to just his noises on her phone and everything she felt. Want and need and pleasure that built, and built, and --

Snapped, tensing her body into those few seconds where the wave hit its peak and then crashed through her.

Intense enough that a strangled noise escaped her.

"'Tavia?" Lucifer breathed, cracking one eye open.

But there was nothing to see.

Nothing at all.

He would just have to wait to see her later. To hear about it, later.

Octavia allowed herself a few deep breaths, her head tipped back against the back of the couch. Hanging on to all of her already established selfishness.

She managed to bring the phone back closer to her mouth after a moment. Definitely sounded breathless, now. "Can you do it for me one more time?"

The sigh that Lucifer released-- shuddered, a bit. "Won't be long," he warned.

But his hand had already wrapped visibly around his length.

"Just do it."

She wasn't asking for a long time, she was asking him to torment himself for her. To make her afterglow that much sweeter.

She really was back in the zone, wasn't she?

Lucifer dragged a groan out of himself at the first stroke. And... then there was barely any holding back, as he gave in to the deep need swimming inside of him. His hand moved swift and hard.

Don't tip over. Don't tip over. Don't tip over--

His hand stopped abruptly, squeezing tightly on the base. The whimper that dragged out was rough.

Where taking her clothes off in company seemed to still be an issue, this somehow wasn't.

At. All.

"Oh," she whispered. Such a small sound, but the edge of her smirk was audible in it.

"Please."

It was a soft whisper.

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