okteiviakom | Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Night

Entry tags:

Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Night

As requested, date night dinner had been Thai, and delicious. And dessert, right now, also delivered on both because it was banana roti.

And yet, Octavia could barely focus on it at all. Because of a talk, earlier in the week, there was... an anticipation, here. Still a little vague, still only mostly-but-not-entirely certain. Just hanging over the scene at the table, unspoken of but present.

About half of Octavia's serving of roti was still there, though rapidly vanishing. "You can really taste the banana."

[ooc: For that guy, and likely NSFW-bound.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

"Yes," Lucifer said, sounding faintly apologetic, somehow. He slid over towards her, pressing his front to her back. His arm curled around her waist.

It felt good.

It did.

Octavia had her eye on something to make it feel even better (for one of them), but for now... She wanted to take a moment just to appreciate this. The weight and warmth of him against her back, knowing it was his skin against her clothes.

Her hand reached back, trying to guide him to press his face to the crook of her neck.

"Tell me about what it was like," she said, quietly. But like she was still in charge.

"Almost like you were there," Lucifer said softly. "Pushing me. Holding me in your grip. Keeping this... tension in me."

He pressed his face against her neck.

"Just with your words alone."

"Good," Octavia breathed. "That's what I wanted."

Her hand ran down along his arm, all the way to his hand. Her fingers pushed between his.

"You were good."

"I... just... want," Lucifer said, as he felt that present tense force its way into his words. "To throw myself at your feet," he murmured. "Knowing that you don't even have to stand there, I can just... feel you."

He squeezed her fingers.

"And it makes me... want you to take from me..."

How had anyone ever let him go? Octavia couldn't understand. She shivered faintly, listening to him.

(A god's voice in her ear, telling her he wanted to throw himself at her feet.)

"There is so much," she whispered, her voice heavy with something, "I want to take from you."

Who had ever claimed Lucifer had the proper temperament to be God?

"Do," he whispered.

There was nothing steady about Octavia's exhale. But her hand was remarkably so, when it began guiding his. Slowly, but with a definite purpose.

Pushing his fingers down the front of her pants, now.

Underneath the edge of her panties, too.

Lucifer's breath audibly caught. But he made no moves to speed her up. Just... let himself feel as she did. "Mhm," he hummed, in recognition.

There had probably been no question about how well all of this had worked for Octavia, too. The damp mess of her underwear shed that last little bit of light on it regardless.

Or the heavy slickness that she was not at all shy about guiding his fingers to.

"As you wish," Lucifer whispered.

He slid his fingers between her folds.

He knew what was expected, now.

Octavia gave a tiny groan. Her own hand slid away, now that his was moving. She knew from (very recent) experience that her clothes didn't make it the most comfortable task, even though they had just about enough give, but that was his problem now.

"Always."

Lucifer wanted to kiss her neck. He didn't. She hadn't told him he could.

But he knew how to maneuver in a small space, slicking his fingers as he dragged them up and down in a brief tease-- then pushed them in with care.

They sank in without much resistance at all, forcing a muted little moan out of Octavia as her head tipped back against him, that kissable neck arching some.

"'S right..."

"Beautiful," Lucifer whispered, dragging his fingers back out, over her most sensitive nerve.

And back into her, languid.

Octavia's eyes had slipped closed, and she seemed to be relaxing further into his arms by the second. (Well. Most of her, anyway.) What a surprise, here was another thing she'd missed.

His fingers were bigger than hers.

"Talk to me more."

Lucifer pumped his fingers into her with a measured slowness, making sure she got the most of them. "I missed this feeling," he whispered. "You, so slick and tight around me."

"This is all you're getting," Octavia breathed. It could be a strength, a taunt, when she chose to use it like one. Not a failing, not just trauma. "Just this. Just your fingers wet."

His fingers moved faster now, though he refused to make his movements shallow; they bottomed out with each movement. "Of course," Lucifer whispered. "I'm just here to give."

And Octavia was beginning to shift in place a little more. The way the curve of her ass pressed back against his crotch was... let's call it accidental, sure.

"But you took so well," she breathed. Nothing was louder than a whisper now, and she liked it that way. "We really should -- get you some, bigger toys."

"Want to see how much I can take?" Lucifer whispered. He dragged his fingers back up to work her clit, adding pressure and friction.

"Yes."

So that was more of a gasp. What of it?

"I want to see you... struggle. Then yield."

"Bring me to my knees on every level?" Lucifer murmured.

She deserved more. More pressure. More movement. Faster.

"Yes."

Oh, that felt good. Better than good, amazing, and she made a tiny noise in the back of her throat.

In this moment, it was hard to comprehend she'd ever considered not doing this.

"Earlier," Lucifer said softly, as he felt her make that noise, "I thought about what it would be like if you held the remote, all those floors away. How you wouldn't even need your voice to bring me to heel."

Slick fingers moved back and pressed into her tight entrance, thick and many.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject