Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Night

[okteiviakom]

It had been another weird week. But enough of the weird - both from this week, and the ones before it - had apparently passed for Octavia and Lucifer to meet up at the house again on this Sunday evening for another date night.

The previously unfurnished room on the second floor was no longer unfurnished. Octavia didn't know whether Lucifer had noticed yet, especially since she'd left the door closed after she'd been done with it. She didn't know whether it would come into play yet, anyway.

And either way, they were downstairs, sitting down properly at the dining table. A gesture towards things Lucifer liked. And Octavia had cooked, even if the main had been just a very simple salad, which they were just about finished with. The equally simple dessert was still waiting in the fridge.

"Maybe one of these weeks you could give me a lesson." A beat. "You know, for cooking. We could make a thing of it."

[ooc: For, you guessed it, that guy.]

Comments

[okteiviakom]

"Good."

But she was still going. Because there was just... something about him like this, the strain in his arms, the weight and warmth of him against her.

She gave a low hum as she glanced down over his shoulder, down at her cum-and-lube-smeared hand still moving over him. Meeting whatever movements his hips gave.

[my_own_advocate]

"Are you just... going to do this all night?" Lucifer asked. Arms flexing, again, without his conscious interference.

[okteiviakom]

"I might."

No, but threatening to was fun.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer groaned. For more reasons than one. "Terrible."

[okteiviakom]

"You knew that already."

[my_own_advocate]

"Still worth noting," Lucifer sighed. "Nggh..."

That one was low, guttural.

[okteiviakom]

And inspired no mercy from Octavia's hand.

"You're gonna have to ask for it, you know," she rasped, helpfully.

[my_own_advocate]

"Ask for what."

Sorry, his brain was lightly scrambled.

[okteiviakom]

"Anything that's not this."

Her relentless hand on him.

[my_own_advocate]

"Can I have anything," Lucifer panted, "...That's not this."

[okteiviakom]

"Like what?" Octavia retorted sweetly.

Just living up to that 'terrible'.

[my_own_advocate]

The answer came out in a single breath. "Please let me go so I can fuck you?"

[okteiviakom]

As nice as his voice already sounded, like this -- "I think you can doo better than that."

Her grip grew a little firmer on this next stroke.

[my_own_advocate]

"Please," Lucifer managed, head tipping forward, "Let me go so I can push you over that chair and fuck you until you come screaming."

[okteiviakom]

Octavia gave a huff that was actually not at all in line with what she felt at hearing that.

One last stroke --

Okay, two. "That's a promise, and you better remember it."

And her hand finally left him. The other arm let him go, too.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer lurched forward a touch, letting go of the frame.

Sucking in a loud breath.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia stepped back and off the bench.

Watching him, while he couldn't see her do it.

[my_own_advocate]

He turned, after another moment. Looked at her.

And immediately reached for her.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia let him.

He'd made a promise, after all.

[my_own_advocate]

And so Lucifer pulled her to him, and then pulled her up into his arms, turning towards the chair.

He was a devil with a mission.

[okteiviakom]

Yes, he seemed pretty determined.

Octavia gave another little huff.

[my_own_advocate]

And there was the armchair. Lucifer dropped her in it, fingers immediately shooting down to her fly.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia obliged him, with a little tilt of her hips, but no more.

They were some pretty tight jeans, he had his work cut out for him.

[my_own_advocate]

Well. It wasn't like she didn't know he had the power to rip them if he wanted to.

But no. If anything, Lucifer made something-- almost ceremonial, ritual, about sliding the trousers down her hips. His hands pressed firmly against her, touching every inch on the way down.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia watched his hands, her gaze idle only on the surface. Anticipation was absolutely coiling inside her, but there was power in seeming unaffected. Just because he was doing things didn't mean she wasn't still in charge.

And, oh, look. Skimpy underwear with a little bit of tasteful lace.