okteiviakom | Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Night

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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.]

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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.

Octavia was just melting into his arms, a little whine in her throat as she bit her lip, her hips straining towards his hand.

Into the stretch, the feeling of fullness.

"I... I thought about that, too."

Cursed that she hadn't thought ahead like that.

"Would you like that?" Lucifer murmured. "Torturing me without even allowing me the privilege of words, an explanation, a sense of control?"

He was not letting up. Not now.

"If I could see you," Octavia breathed, "yes."

And now her mind was nothing but the thought of that mixing in with the sensation of his fingers, now rapidly drawing her closer and closer --

"I'd let you." He ground the palm of his hand against her clit. "I'd even let you do it with one of those big cocks you've got on your mind..."

Well, there were just no words for that. So he got another noise, instead. Quiet but... harsh. A little guttural.

Pleased.

"Remember the last time you used that plug on me, by the way?" Lucifer said. He couldn't help himself; he nuzzled her ear. "Because I did..."

He pressed his fingers in deep.

"Yes." For the question, for the nuzzling, for his fingers. She felt herself give a twitch around the latter. A taste of something fast approaching. "I let you -- suffer."

She remembered it so very clearly. How he'd pleaded, how she'd done nothing.

The droplets on his cock.

"And I let you do it," Lucifer whispered. "It was worth it. Not the terrible orgasm, of course. But you."

He managed to free his thumb just far enough that he could-- ah, there-- press down on her more fully without having to withdraw the rest of his fingers.

"The fulfillment on your face."

"G-gonna do it again."

Oh, her voice sounded frayed, now. Full of promise, but... distracted, breathy. Her focus turning inwards, downwards, more fully.

A gasp, another.

Almost --

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