Octavia Blake (
okteiviakom) wrote2024-01-28 09:01 pm
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Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Night
Octavia had been feeling kind of... restless, this week. But keeping it to herself, because Duke had been having a rougher time, and anyway, it was fine. This feeling came and went, and Octavia was used to it.
(Though it really would have been great if Dr. Baker had been able to squeeze her in during some other time this week, after the regular Tuesday session got cancelled.)
It was Sunday now, anyway. Food and cider and hopefully a good time? Octavia had even channeled some of her twitchiness into prepping dessert, earlier. "The fruit's all ready in the fridge," she said, as she got up to clear away the dinner plates. "The white chocolate on them should have set by now."
Spoken like she actually knew anything and hadn't just grabbed the instructions from Google this morning.
[ooc: For the guy.]
(Though it really would have been great if Dr. Baker had been able to squeeze her in during some other time this week, after the regular Tuesday session got cancelled.)
It was Sunday now, anyway. Food and cider and hopefully a good time? Octavia had even channeled some of her twitchiness into prepping dessert, earlier. "The fruit's all ready in the fridge," she said, as she got up to clear away the dinner plates. "The white chocolate on them should have set by now."
Spoken like she actually knew anything and hadn't just grabbed the instructions from Google this morning.
[ooc: For the guy.]
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He pressed into her, deep, and lingered. Thrust into her in the smallest of ways, barely a motion.
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Just something about being so utterly... joined together.
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"Perfect."
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Octavia made another one of those noises that could only really be classified as a wounded and weak sound of agreement. And oh, was that a little clench, a little flutter around him?
Yes.
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"Perfect," he murmured again, and kissed her cheek, his fingers fanning out, brushing against her jaw.
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And her head tilting just a little bit, into the touch.
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This time, though, he let go of any thoughts that might-- restrain him. He gave in to the pleasure building in him.
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"I can take it," she breathed, without a fully coherent thought behind it.
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Harder.
"I want to come in you so badly..."
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It was as vehement as it was pleading. She tugged on her restraints a little, for the first time.
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He fucked into her faster. Rougher.
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It was a moan, a ragged little thing.
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So close.
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Her heartbeat strong and fast against his hand, and her own panting loud in her ears - and yet not as loud as his groan.
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"Octavia," he gasped, as release rolled over him, one hand steady, then gripping, on her hip. He let it take him.
Let her take him.
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Shuddering.
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To let his arms wind themselves around her waist, pulling her into him. All the way.
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Just like that, Octavia suddenly felt almost impossibly small. Slumping into his embrace as best she could.
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Then, as if awakening from a dream, one of his hands slid down, between her legs.
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"It's my turn?" Octavia murmured, her voice almost laughably small. Young.
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And that was ridiculously sincere, especially considering the little moan that tried to escape right in the middle of it.
Her head tipped further against his.
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He could feel himself when his fingers strayed, briefly, tracing the line of himself where it met her body and pressed inside.
But it was only a stray moment. After that, he found himself focused-- on her, on the sensitive skin under his fingers, on how he knew she liked to be touched.
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Focused on the pleasure, like he wanted her to. Focused on letting it build up - which it was, rapidly.
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They'd said it a dozen times tonight. He didn't care. When she was like this, when she felt like this, he wanted to tell her a thousand times more.
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