Lucifer Morningstar (
my_own_advocate) wrote2022-07-17 07:09 pm
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Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Night
There were plans to open the club - finally - and plans to go to Austria for a few days to see an opera - exciting - and Octavia had been doing better recently, so... Lucifer was in a good mood, actually, when Sunday came around.
So yes, the candles were out again tonight. And a rather imposing spread of seafood, picked up from the mainland. With mango rice, of course.
It was Octavia. Couldn't do without the mango rice.
"How do you feel about the snapper?"
[[ for her ]]
So yes, the candles were out again tonight. And a rather imposing spread of seafood, picked up from the mainland. With mango rice, of course.
It was Octavia. Couldn't do without the mango rice.
"How do you feel about the snapper?"
[[ for her ]]
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He let out a strangled breath, staying where he was. Not wanting to pull out yet.
But his hand slid out of her hair and carressed her cheek, her jaw, her chin.
He loved her so much.
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Had she been good?
She wasn't moving. He still held the reins, and didn't need a hand in her hair to do it.
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Lucifer's hand wrapped around the base of his length, and he pulled back out of her mouth. Slowly.
"Perfect," he breathed.
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Her jaw ached as she finally got to close it, and her lips were stinging a little.
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Her ass immediately protested at her when she put her weight on it in his lap.
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She might regain her voice in a moment.
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His hand slid down her belly. Back into her trousers.
His other arm wrapped around her, pulling her in tight.
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Octavia made a helpless sound in the back of her throat.
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His fingers slipped between her folds.
"And a lot of pleasure."
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But Octavia's current state of mind also wasn't very fighty at all.
And her body, well. She was still as slick as before, if not more, and her head tried to tilt back against his shoulder on a ragged sigh.
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"There's a good girl," he cooed, playing leisurely with her. Like they had time. Like he was counting on her shifting against him and setting off those bruises again.
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Even when her eyes squeezed closed, blocking one sense out again.
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Much like the arm around her.
Perhaps even his fingers, as he pressed one finger against her clit, rubbing, not particularly gentle.
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It was like another hand on her. Another point where she was weak and he was strong.
She made a whining noise in her throat. (And thought about the ghost of him in her throat --)
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"Did that hurt?" Lucifer breathed. Pulled her tighter into his lap.
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"It -- aches," she stuttered out.
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His fingers grew firmer. "The ache."
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It really didn't matter, not when his arm was around her like it was. (And maybe that was the point. Maybe that was why.)
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His fingers slid down, pressed in. Two of them.
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Where was she going with that? It got cut off and immediately forgotten, dissolving into a quiet moan - though she was still trying to writhe her way to freedom.
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Still holding on.
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Clearly no requests that were actually fully formed.
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Taking a surreptitious glance at her hands.
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