okteiviakom | Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Evening

Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Evening

"I don't think I've got this."

It had been a while since the last Sunday night date night.

It felt like it had been forever. And Octavia's memories of the last date night of any day of the week at the house weren't great.

None of that was what was getting to her right this second.

"It's just not doing what I want, Lucifer."

She was trying to pipe some sort of ganache onto a thing of dessert in a dainty little bowl, and no, it was not going smoothly at all. As far as issues went, it would have been almost blissfully mundane, had it not also been so very frustrating.

[ooc: For that guy and massive SP.]

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"All right."

Lucifer reached for the last piece with one hand.

The other shifted up, between her legs, palming her.

Octavia's breath hitched a little. Her fingers curled a little more into his hair, pure reflex.

His grip was light. His mouth brushed against her neck as he pulled back up with the harness in hand.

"I think stepping into it will be more comfortable," Lucifer said.

It wasn't just an excuse to fall to his knees, but that part was very handy.

And never got old, judging by Octavia's soft half-gasp.

Her eyes followed him down, of course.

Lucifer smiled up at her, adoring. He lowered the harness to the ground. "Foot?"

The expression on Octavia's face found a way to get even softer in response to his smile, somehow.

She lifted her left foot off the floor, to step into the harness.

And Lucifer moved it in place obligingly. He held out the other loop of leather, waiting.

Left foot back on the floor. Right foot up.

And through the waiting leather.

(The smallest things could become ritual.)

It was entirely possible Lucifer was doing it like this just so he could have the experience of pulling the harness up underneath her dress, up up up, until the top part sat snuggly just above her hips.

His hands skimmed along her thighs ever-so-casually, ever-so-often.

Didn't feel so casual on the recieving end.

If anything, Octavia was pretty sure her skin was ever-so-slightly goosebumping under his touch. She felt suddenly aware of... everything, all at once.

Lucifer's fingers gripped the straps that now rested above her hips, and pulled them together. Pulled them tight.

"There we are."

"There we are," Octavia echoed, in barely more than a whisper. She drew in a slow breath (feeling the subtle ways leather and fabric moved with it).

Then let it go again.

Lucifer worked with each strap, making sure his knuckles and fingertips bumped and slid against her at every opportunity. Making sure that they were tight around her thighs, against sensitive skin.

"How is that?" he breathed.

For a second, the best Octavia could do was a slightly shaky nod.

And then, "Good," a little hoarse, a little taken with everything.

(Because she could feel everything.)

"Good," Lucifer echoed.

His hands slid out from under her skirt. Slowly. Carefully.

He cupped her cheek.

Octavia turned her face towards the touch, practically helpless to resist.

Her own hands were hanging at her sides. Fingertips brushing back and forth against the dress.

"This is all in your hands, darling," Lucifer murmured. His thumb skimmed along her cheek. "It's your moment."

He brushed a kiss against her other cheek. "Feel."

As if something gave in, Octavia leaned against him again. Her arms slid around his waist - but one of her hands brought some of the skirt of the dress with it, pulling it over his hip. The movement tugged on the fabric in other places, which affected the harness around her chest, which she felt.

She pressed a haphazard kiss against the side of his neck.

Lucifer wrapped his other arm around her. Higher, around her back, below her shoulders. "That's it," he whispered.

Octavia gave an approving hum.

She nuzzled at his neck a little more, just as she pressed her body against his a little bit more, too. Her chest, in particular - feeling the unfamiliar fabric, and the muted way the harness kept her contained in her body. Familiar, but softened by the dress.

Ah. Well.

It shouldn't be a surprise that Lucifer's body responded-- giving a first twitch against her thigh, against the fabric. "How does it feel?" he murmured.

"Soft," Octavia breathed. She shifted a little, in her pressing. Less chest, now, and more hips. A little grind against his thigh. "Contained."

"Contrast," Lucifer whispered.

His hand slid up and down her back, pressing the fabric against her skin.

"Mm-hmm," Octavia hummed. Her skin was warm, underneath the fabric. Warm all over, really.

Warm against the leather underneath.

She could feel the skirt of the dress against her legs as she pressed her hips against his leg again. Exploring sensation, the pressure and presence of the harness at her hips.

And then-- Lucifer's hands settled over her arse. Squeezing slightly, yes. But mostly pulling her in against her.

He shifted his knee forward, to slip between her legs.

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