Sound Was Still A Hair Trigger. Pride Was Playing Just Fine Into That As Much As The Touches And Words.

There was a particular kind of suffering when she did that roll. Hmn. Hand coming off her neck and settling onto her shoulder. Fuck. What was he saying?

Doing?

Something with her body, probably. He took to kissing the back of her neck. Then down along her spine. Forgetting he was supposed to be holding her down. Mumbling against skin. "Beautiful, bossy, Irene." Mused to himself more than anything. "Pretty in heels. Pretty in a throne."

Doesn't take much more than a sliding push of a hand to get her panties down around her thighs. And same hand up between them to stroke hot little center there. Forgot to take off his gloves. He'd remember eventually.

“Oh you’re so funny. Pouring my heart out and you’re making jo-AH!” Irene squeaks as he closes the distance, spinning her around and pushing her into the bed. In her surprise she had let go of his tie, hands now gripping the sheets as she arched her back to press her ass more against the grinding hard on. It wasn’t fair how much the little display of power and dominance turned her on.

She’d attempt to lift her head, just a little bit to give him a tiny bit of sass as she tilts it to the side so she can look up at him with a snarky grin until he followed up his love comment. Her cheeks turn bright red and she’d let her gaze fall.

“M-My love sounds wonderful..” She stammers before the rest of his words bring the fire back to her. She’d tilt her head up, smiling again and giving a long languid roll of her hips against him. Suffer. “I think I do quite like that…besides that what can I say? You know how needy I can get…Nothing that you can’t solve~”

Wouldn't be my first no-nut november. It has it's fun and charms. Hah.

“You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.”

— Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena (via weepling)

[Didn't fault him a fumble. Lucifer's style of dress had SO many buttons and the layers were not a small feat. Even when he did it himself. Out of clothing, he was much more bold about sitting sideways next to Rook and leaning down to catch up more of the treats on the other man's chest.

He didn't bother to be snarky. He was busy.

Lucifer did have a thing about using his mouth and being mouthy was a favorite activity of his. He would wander with warm nibbles and licks and sucks until it was clear and his teeth could give a hickey to collarbone. Hello, you're tasty, I love you.]

'Feelers' like m'some kinda insect... so rude, luv...

[ Mock-sighed, but he would indeed use his 'feelers' to unbutton and start stripping Lucifer down, fumbling only a little when his chest was played with. ]

A-Ah... Jus' remember as delicious as I am... m'harder t'replace than the fruit an' such...

[ Not that there was any real worry. And, to be completely honest with himself, he wouldn't even be big mad if Lucifer did take a bite out of him at some point... ]

Stop teasing you? Let you cum?

Why would I want to? Desperation looks too good on you for me to do that, sweet thing. Going all red and whiny like that, gasping and panting on my fingers or my tongue. You sound so sweet when you're begging like that, too.

Why would I ever let you cum?

Let him not be a beefcake? Forget it. [He joked openly with Rook. Tossing shirt off to the side and reaching to bounce one of Duncan’s very generous pecs.] Look at that. It’s too much. [He broke into his own chortle. Kind of brushing gently over the fact he did keep Duncan’s body well-fed and well worked out to maintain this physique.] What am I without tits, honestly? [Extra silly. As he got to unbuckling his belt and sliding that off.] What the hell would I even hold onto on this man if he wasn’t built like a brickhouse? It’d be impossible.

[Rumbled under the bruising teeth in his chest, worrying teeth into his own lower lip a moment. Trying to focus and make a decision--A difficult thing to do when his husband was also feeling him up.

Fuck it. His focus came back to Rook with that pinpoint way he had. Got hold of his chin between a couple of fingers and stole another heated kiss before, low and direct;] 

Get out of these. [Free hand tugging at the waist band of his trousers. Well aware what all waited there, thank you.]