Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Night

[my_own_advocate]

Not sleeping with Octavia for two days had seemed like a tolerable proposition after the initial suggestion of five entire days (oh lord). In practice, though, it was its own form of Hell.

So there had definitely been a bit of fumbling with the keys (and the take-out). And a bit of... rushing through the food part.

"We certainly ordered too much rice," he said, only halfway through his pad thai (sigh). "Who knew such a thing was possible."

[[ for her, and doomed to go nsfw ]]

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[okteiviakom]

Octavia let him get away with that for as long as it took for her to maneuver herself where her legs were on either side of his head.

And then her hands grabbed at his wrists.

"No."

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer let out a loud exhale. His hands relaxed, and then so did the muscles in his arms, going slack in surrender.

[okteiviakom]

"Are we getting pouty again?" Octavia rasped.

While slowly bringing his hands down to where she could press his wrists against the mattress, above his head.

[my_own_advocate]

"...No," Lucifer said, licking his lips without realizing it. "No, no pouting."

[okteiviakom]

"Because you need those lips for something else."

That was all the warning he was going to get, before Octavia shifted that last little bit, and that convenient spot of missing mesh between her legs was right above his mouth.

[my_own_advocate]

Well. It wasn't like he didn't know what to do. Not that there was much Lucifer could do, besides tilt his head just so and offer her his lips and tongue.

[okteiviakom]

That was all he was really expected to do, either. So it worked out.

It was pretty clear right from the get-go, from the very first grinding movement, that Octavia intended to use him. And wasn't about to be gentle about it.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer wasn't about to argue. Not at all. He could smell the leather on her, mixing with the rest of her scent. He wanted--

Well, he wanted to take his hands out of her grasp and grip her, give her his mouth, but she didn't want to let him. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat, and just tried to press into what she was asking, drawing his tongue between her folds when she pressed into him.

[okteiviakom]

Because he knew he'd given up all his wants when he'd kicked the door shut after them.

And Octavia was submitting to hers. The rougher ones that didn't care what he wanted, needed, or felt. The ones that allowed her to just take.

Or to drawl, "Stick your tongue out further," as she leaned a little more of her weight onto the hands pressing his wrists to the mattress.

[my_own_advocate]

It was-- definitely giving him some ideas as to what he wanted to do when it was his turn.

But he shouldn't be thinking that way right now.

(It always took Lucifer's mind a while longer to submit than his body. She knew that.)

He obliged, his tongue curling a bit as he pressed it further against her. His body strained, just a touch, against her grip. It felt nice. Firm.

[okteiviakom]

That was part of the fun, anyway. Wearing down his will, or at least seeing if she could.

(It wasn't like she always fully submitted, either.)

Either way, her moan sounded like approval when she dragged her core over his tongue.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer's cock gave a happy little twitch at the obscenity of that noise. His fingers flexed, wanting something to grab on to.

But they stayed.

As did he, powerless to do much but enjoy the taste of her on his tongue, humming somewhere low in his stomach.

[okteiviakom]

Good.

Because Octavia was really getting into it, now. There was something feverish about the way she moved, careless, relentless, her sole concern her own pleasure, every last bit of it that she could wring out of this. His tongue, lips, mouth, face.

The sensation of being fully clothed from her wrists to her ankles except where it mattered was definitely working for her.

[my_own_advocate]

It was certainly a way to set the mood, and set it quickly. Lucifer made a muffled noise against her, a moan, his feet shifting until they were up on the bed. Took some of the pressure off his cock.

Hard not to start aching while she was riding his face like a mad woman.

(He wanted to touch her so badly. How those muscles would move underneath all that mesh, the firmness of her thighs...)

[okteiviakom]

Her hands were tight around his wrists. Octavia needed her anchors, and this time, that was it. That little forward lean, helping her let her hips move how they wished.

She really wasn't looking for a slow build-up here, no. More like she was trying to set some kind of record for how quickly she could get herself off this way. No finesse, just want.

And her moans, unrestrained and a little guttural, said she was getting there.

[my_own_advocate]

Yes. She was going fast. It... drove home just how little of any of this was at his behest. Another spidering sensation of want crawled up along Lucifer's spine. The next noise that came out of him was wet, much thanks to her. His mouth was moving what little he could, trying-- trying to help.

Trying to be good.

[okteiviakom]

And Octavia seemed to tell him he was exactly that. Or at least something to that effect, in fragmented words.

There was already a tremble in her thighs. Too bad he wasn't allowed to get a better feel of that.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer knew how it felt when she did. The way that tremble would quickly spread across her entire body until she came apart so beautifully.

He knew it would come sooner or later - she would come sooner, rather than later. But... no input but her noises, the rapid movements of her body. Demanding, claiming.

His hips rocked up into the air.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia heard something, or felt something, or -- just vaguely sensed something, but had absolutely no ability or even inclination to find out what it was.

Because it turned out it really was sooner.

Turned out it was right now that she tensed with a ragged curse (in Trig, in English, she wouldn't have known), gripping his wrists tighter, managing that one last rough roll of her hips against him before she just shook.

[my_own_advocate]

His "oh fuck," was muffled by her body, the sensation of her fingers clenching around his wrists-- a strange, wonderful, weird substitute for something else.

(Doing this with someone who could actually hurt him continued to be fascinating and exciting.)

[okteiviakom]

Octavia leaned a little more on his wrists for several gasping breaths, then finally seemed to relax some, shifting back enough to let him breathe freely, her fingers lightening their hold, then pulling away entirely.

She needed one of her hands for brushing hair back from her face.

"Good... start."

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer let out a loud, slightly strangled breath. ... And then another one. Apparently breathing was a thing he did, in fact, need to do now, as he reached for his wrist with one hand to touch the skin. There was still a slight pain in there, like a bruise, already swiftly healing.

"That was... yes," he panted. "That."

[okteiviakom]

Octavia found her eyes drawn to his hands, his wrists, when he did that.

"But just a start."

That sounded idle, distracted.

(Being someone who could hurt him was... It was many things.)

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer rubbed his other wrist, watching her. (Taking this moment, this gift, to actually take her in like that-- all that mesh and leather, the wetness on her thighs.)

[okteiviakom]

Octavia watched him back.

But mostly his hands, like she couldn't help herself. She brushed her hair back a second time, even though she didn't really need to. Maybe it just went with the way she was catching her breath.

Or how the straps of leather around her arm felt when she moved it.