Shirt First, Huh? Curious Choice, If You Asked Him. Used To People Going Belt First, Honestly.

Inktober - 12 - Shattered.

Man, she liked to make him laugh and he did again when she was trying to announce her orgasm. Like he was going to stop??? Haha!

Cute.

"I've got you." A sultry purr against the shell of one of her ears. She was worried about the wrong thing. All she needed to fuss about was having a little death. He'd handle the rest. And he did.

The whimpers had him cued in. "That's it, 'Rene."

Sure enough, there she goes! Humorous thought aside, he hit his own limit nearly immediately. Sopping, hot, and rhythmically clenching is a hard invitation to dodge. "Hah--Hahfuck!"

Still hits him like a mac truck. He should of asked some key questions, but it's too late now. He added to that wet mess to make it sticky within a few hard bucks that fill and overfill. Empties him out and leaves him face down in desk desk to her head, huffing hard to catch his breath. Grip on her wrists loose and no longer pressing her down into the wood so much as laying against her there while his brain cells tried to find land in a wash of feel-good chemicals.

“Eek!”

Irene’s sudden cry of surprise rings forth, arms clutching onto him in a momentary panic of falling over before her back hits the desk. Then she was folded in half, hands trapped above her. She arches, that first well aimed thrust stealing her voice as her eyes roll up but her silence didn’t last for long.

She writhes underneath him, cries echoing in the office and undoubtedly interrupting any conversation that her workers might have had outside. She was going to have nothing on her desk, the pens he had carefully placed back into their cup being flung to the floor along side all the papers.

“F-Fuck Lucifer! You’re gonna! You’re gonna make me cum!”

Her body tensed, air catching in her lungs as her toes curled in the air. She could only manage soft whimpers at this point, mind going blank except for the overwhelming pleasure that built in her belly before it snapped. She’d jerk with an almost scream, body arching and legs quaking as her walls spasmed around his length. There was another gush of slick, dripping off the desk as her body did its instinctual best to milk him for everything he was worth.

http://j-saw.deviantart.com

[Guess they had not covered all the bases.

It was plenty sudden.

He grabbed the front of Pride's suit, after a beat of surprise and confusion, and yanked in such a way as to bring Pride down on his knees in front of the chair, between his own needs. Where the kiss could get crushed back into Pride's stupid fucking mouth.

Jackanape! Asshole.

His grip loosened, but the kiss didn't break. Giving good as he got with teeth and tongue.

Fuck you, actually.]

[ Pride felt himself a bit enclosed there with a roll of his eyes to how that was being done, but that was just as well. Served his purposes fine when he shoved that chair just enough away from himself to spin it around to look at Lucifer in the face. ]

This, idiot.

[ Then leaned down to take Lucifer’s face - not quite caring how aggressive he was being - and pressing his mouth hard to the other’s. Would get teeth involved if he needed to. But he needed to do this either way.

Pride was learning stupid uncomfortable truths about himself and the people around him every fucking day. Whatever. WHATEVER.

Fuck it. ]

Isla Gilham

[Having his suits shredded every so often wasn't the worst thing. Erotic, even.

But there was a little more to someone taking the time to mind his clothing, too. His shirts were at least more replaceable than the coats and pants--and ties. Many of his ties were sentimental gifts. People liked to buy him ties. And the bits and bobs like tie pins and cuff links. He appreciated, to some extent, the differential care.

His a little busy worrying, stupidly, about the form change. That is more than a four inch differential, now. Think he'd be over that shit by now--being smaller while in Duncan. He wasn't.

Stones, when did he get full on hard? Somewhere in the middle of everything Diet was doing. He'd gone momentarily deaf, too, apparently. Skin from his throat to his chest plenty flushed--an obvious thing given Duncan's complexion.

Head dropped back against table when his body tried to full on betray him with an arch toward tongue one one roved over a pearled up nipple. He's calm! He's real chill! He's not breathing a little harder through his nose or anything.]

[ He didn't need to. Dietrich could feel and see it, and it set his own senses alight. Like getting the scent of a rabbit on the wind and then hearing its rapid heartbeat like a dinner bell. ]

Micromanaging boss, hm? Checks out.

[ Gonna shift so he can get both of Lucifer's wrists in one hand, felt a few seams pop but whatever. They could be sewed up or replaced. Freed hand was going to go down and ever-so-delicately pluck open Lucifer's jacket buttons. He'd gotten in trouble for ruining the last one, and tempting as it was to properly shred this one, he'd be nice. Tie could stay, that could be useful. But he'd get his teeth on the shirt he was wearing and give Lucifer a wicked little grin and then tear it open, savouring the little pings of buttons coming off. More skin for him to get his (bigger, wetter) tongue on. ]

[A low chuckle came out of him, watching Pride do everything except what he clearly wanted to do.]

Never thought I'd see the day--a Sin showing some restraint. [His tone had certainly shifted. Hand in Pride's hair coming around to frame up around his neck and under his chin and jaw. Keeping his face nice and turned upward to his gaze. Leaning down a moment to lave tongue over the spot of wetness he'd left behind on cheek.]

Go on, touch it.

[Once he'd leaned back up a little more upright. Make sure he could see everything.]

[ With literally anyone else, he might have minded very much. But just then? Nah. Didn’t give one singular fuck what sorts of fluids Lucifer wanted to leave on him. In him? Maybe eventually.

He let out a small sound of upset when he was pulled away, but the demand of him was distracting. Pride huffed out a little breath as he wore the smallest of appeasing grins. If he must.

Was a relief, of a sort, when he reached down to undo his own belt and buttons and zipper. Pulled himself free with a harsh exhale and tried not to immediately chase the urge to give himself some further relief. Was a little more slow about it, pretending to adjust himself for comfort and likely failing to not give himself some sort of stimulation.

He was too achingly hard to ignore it for much longer. Even being free from his stupid pants was only the tiniest bit of relief. ]

[Why was the Sin grabbing his face and not fucking doing what he was to--

So unexpected was the turn around that he hit the desk with a startled grunt and a fairly dumb blink down at the desk surface under his face. Realizing he'd lost control of the situation and bristled.

His face was overheated and he knew that meant he was bright red. So he hid a bit by pushing forehead into the surface of the desk. Truth of the matter was, he was inconceivably strong. So if he wasn't fixing this situation in some way, it was very telling.

About as much as his silent reach to hook thumbs under waist band and easing everything down to just near his knees. Don't look at him.

He had the opposite want on eyes that Pride did. When he was feeling exposed and vulnerable. A mix of uncertainty and want leaving him a bit shaky.

This felt different than the first time he'd given himself over.]

[How does it feel? To whip your emotions and thoughts around at break neck speeds? He'd like TO FUCKING KNOW.

I can think of some more. [Eyes lidding all the more as Pride came in near. Don't tell anyone, but his dick did a tiny alert twitch on his thigh when the Sin came in near long before Pride started saying something to him at his ear.

Some reason he didn't think Pride would take the second offer.

Narrowed gaze went from nearly sleepy soft, whiskey lazy. To sharp and dangerous as he stood up. Stepping up close and bumping Pride back until the back of the Sin's thighs were bitten by the edge of the desk in question.

He stared down at Pride's face for a few tense seconds--then reached to one side to open a drawer in the desk, taking out the bottle of lubricant.]

Move. [Like he hadn't just nearly trapped the Sin where he was. And also like he didn't plan to budge to make it easier Pride to squirm back out of that space. He wasn't.]