okteiviakom | Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Evening

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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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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.

Octavia hummed again, then gave a little "Oh", as she... settled against his leg and its newer, better angle.

"Offer?" she asked, lower and raspier than before. There should've been more words to that question, sure, but maybe he'd figure it out anyway.

"I'm just here to give you what you desire, niron." Lucifer's voice was low. Smooth. "Whichever way you wish to ask for it."

"You take such good care of me."

Just because it was raspy and drawled didn't make it any less sincere, or any less true.

Her arms settled a little tighter around him.

"Merely returning the favor," Lucifer breathed.

He was half-hard against her leg, but he made no further moves to call attention to it.

"Use me."

Octavia was looking forward to feeling him go from half to fully, anyway.

"Good Devil," she breathed. It sounded like adoration.

Her head tipped against his shoulder. And with her arms around his waist for an anchor, she moved her hips again. Grinding against him, feeling the press of the leather against herself and how, beyond it, the fabric of the dress caught with the fabric of his pants. Another layer of sensation.

It took a moment of finding a good angle, but she wasn't subtle about it when she did. The groan in her throat made sure of that.

"Yes."

He couldn't see her face - he wished he could - but the sound and the feel of her.

"Tell me. How it feels."

"Like freedom," Octavia sighed. She'd found her angle, and wasn't being coy about taking full advantage. The movements weren't fast or urgent - for now - but they were focused, intentional, thorough in how they dragged her covered core against his thigh. "There's nothing but the... pressure. And feeling held. Leather digging into my thighs."

"I can picture it," Lucifer murmured. "All that pretty leather, pressed into your skin."

"I'll let you take a look," Octavia promised. Low, not quite breathless just yet but with a strained note all the same. "After."

His hands gripped her arse a little harder, though he made no more effort to control her movements. "I want to lick you clean. After."

"Oh." Not an objection, not in the slightest. As for his hands? A great excuse for her to rut a little harder against him. "Anything... else?"

Her breath hitched right in the middle, there. He was welcome for getting to hear it.

"Can you feel me?"

There was nothing half about his hardness, any longer.

"I'd like it if you took care of that whatever way you see fit," he murmured. His hands remained a firm presence on her, giving her... support. "After."

Octavia's casual nudge with her thigh on the side he pressed against her was probably a decent enough answer for his question.

"Whatever way, huh?" she rasped, low. She shifted a little, pressing her face closer to his neck. Her hips were working a little rougher, now. Really getting the most of it, the most of him, with his support. "You wanna -- come for me, after, however I choose to take care of you?"

"Yes..."

This time it was a sigh. A breath. Her breath left goosebumps on the skin of Lucifer's neck, and his eyes closed.

"For you."

"Good."

Her fingers were digging into his back, really holding on with all her might now. A little moan betrayed just a fraction of what she was feeling, in all of her insistent grinding against him.

The sense of urgency had finally arrived, and it was translating into full-on using him for all the friction and pressure that she could, not even a shred of anything self-conscious about her. Just want.

Lucifer whispered small, filthy encouragements in her ear, his mouth brushing against the side of her head as she moved.

He stayed as he was, solid. Supporting her. Letting himself wallow in the beauty of the moment.

He was lucky.

And Octavia kept going, practically pushing herself up onto her toes with the effort of each increasingly frantic grind.

Until, of course, there was that last perfect movement that got her right over the line. Sent her thighs clamping around his leg, had her nails digging harder into his shirt, forced a wild, loud noise out against his neck.

Her whole body shuddering.

Lucifer's hands clawed up her back, gripping her tightly. Pulling her in against him, so he could feel those shocks course through her as if it were his own body.

Octavia pressed against him tighter, practically helpless to do much else in the moment, with a soft groan and a gasp.

Shivering against him.

(Feeling held, in all her pleasure.)

"Beautiful," Lucifer whispered. "Beautiful."

"Not over yet," Octavia breathed, as some of her clinging began to relax a little bit.

More of a promise than an argument against what he said.

Lucifer let out a soft noise, almost a laugh. "Duly noted," he said.

Octavia pressed a lazy kiss against his neck.

Nipped even more lazily at it, right below his ear. Really more of a ploy to whisper by his ear, "It's 'after', now."

"Time to get under your skirts?" Lucifer asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

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