okteiviakom | Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Night

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.

"Hm?"

Of course she would pretend she hadn't heard it properly.

(Octavia had most definitely heard it properly, had committed it to memory, felt it all the way down to her core.)

He sounded hoarse. "Please let me come."

He sounded beautiful.

"Hmm."

There was a long, long pause. Very deliberately.

And then finally, "Do it."

"Oh," Lucifer gasped, and this time it sounded like surprise, but-- he wasn't going to let that slip by.

He rocked his hips up into his fist, moving fast, with ragged thrusts. A loud, desperate moan wrung its way out of his throat and then he was coming, coming, coming all over his hand.

Glorious.

And doing nothing at all to the way Octavia's body was insisting she could go for round two, actually.

"Good boy," she breathed.

That shouldn't feel so good to hear. Then again, almost everything felt good right now. "Oh," Lucifer sighed again, flopping back against the mattress. "Mm. Thank you."

That sounded painfully earnest.

It was a great way to make Octavia's heart and the space between her legs ache at the same time, too.

He was a mess, in several ways.

And her voice was still a low rasp. "You can turn off the toy, now."

Lucifer nodded, just a small motion against his chest.

It was a relief when it finally stopped-- buzzing.

"Can take it out, too," Octavia said, after a... pause. (Just one last long look to admire him on her screen like this.) "Then stay right there like a good little Devil."

The call ended.

Lucifer didn't particularly want to move, but there was still a sense of obedience in him-- so he leaned forward to pry the toy out of him. He cast it carelessy beside him on the bed, and then collapsed back again.

Just breathing. Rubbing slow circles onto his chest.

Well, technically Octavia's phrasing had left him the option of not doing that, but it would probably please her that he had.

For her part, she downed what was left of her cider, then got off the couch. Made her way into the kitchen, got a big glass, filled it with water.

Then she began to make her way upstairs.

He missed her. Much like last time, the need to be able to reach out to Octavia and touch her was-- great. But at least they'd had sex again, in a way. That felt. Good.

And not just because of the orgasm.

Lucifer sighed and groped around for his wine, eyes still half-closed.

At least this time Octavia was already in the same house. And knew not to leave him on his own. She just had not developed any notable powers for teleportation yet, so, she had to actually move between places the old-fashioned way.

But it wasn't very long before the door opened (she liked that he'd closed it), and she stepped in.

She felt weird about seeing him in the flesh like this, all the evidence still so obvious. But that didn't stop her from taking a thorough look.

Should've put on my trousers, he almost said aloud.

But no, they'd had a deal. Lucifer would not be the one to break the scene. He turned his head instead, and locked eyes on her.

"Octavia."

He wanted to reach out for her. Badly.

Well, Octavia came closer. In fact, she sat down on the edge of the bed as if it was nothing.

But then she held out the glass for him.

"You should drink some water."

It wasn't what he wanted, really. But Lucifer set his wine back down and reached for the water. "Thank you," he said, and took a sip.

Octavia gave a faint nod, but seemed more interested in just... letting her gaze sweep down his naked body like it was something new to her.

Like it was a point of interest.

Lucifer watched her watch him, his fingers wrapping around the glass the way he really wanted to put them-- just about anywhere on her.

He said nothing. (He knew he was a mess.)

Eventually, Octavia's gaze ended up back on his face. Her head tilted, her hand moved. The backs of her fingers ran down his jaw.

Then she pressed two of her fingertips against his lips.

They were dry, now, but still had her scent, her taste.

(She was seeing where her boundaries were. Emboldened some by her post-orgasmic yet still keyed up state.)

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