He could make a feast out of Istredd's thoughts, Istredd's desires, Istredd's unrelenting begging.
It's the thrill backing it, that Lucifer has the ability to sate this unrelenting lust, that amps him up in a way that's another kind of torture but so very different. That Lucifer can give instead of take and still get the same amount of pooling warm heat and desire and results. He sucks on Istredd's bottom lip and pulls his desire into him, the benefit of their mental boundaries being currently strong. Themselves, loud and powerful and something other where they do meet with mental friction.
The experience alone Lucifer snacks on, takes bits into himself like a corvid stashing pieces away.
Desire is as alien to Lucifer as love but he's understanding it much, much faster.
He doesn't stop touching Istredd.
Doesn't stop giving into his wants because this Lucifer has control over, for the time being, and if he were to lose that control it only means good things, right? He wants to trust in Istredd's spell, the warding over the room. He's done with his singing though, Istredd would have to beg on a different level entirely for Lucifer to raise his chords. But he doubts he'll need to, free hand finding the oil and dexterously fumbling with it.
They've already discussed his limited knowledge but some things simply translate 1:1 that he understands the logistics and in spite of his Father does he want to fuck Istredd. Break the man down to fractions.
"I don't need a gift," he starts aloud, and finishes with vibrations echoed over their bond, if I can just unwrap you as he presses purposely now-cooled fingers into Istredd. His eyes never leave Istredd's face, soaking in the changes of expression, the slipped-escaped breaths.
Istredd knew Lucifer had this in him before it was confirmed, there is this passion inside of him that had to be leashed in Thorne, and he knows he hated it, feeling confined. He can't free either of them but they can find freedom in what they've built together. Every second of this is theirs, every kiss, every touch, it's what they've taken. Lucifer deserves this. Istredd wants him to soak in the adoration, know he's wanted and loved and special, like he's always wanted to be. He's been locked away from anything soft all that time. Istredd will be everything he never was allowed to ask for.
He has no qualms about begging, no hesitation about laying himself emotionally bare for someone he trusts. Istredd moans and for a moment he doesn't have the strength to stay upright, leaning down into him, helplessly pushing into Lucifer's grip, his touch. This isn't the best way but damned if he'll stop it. Not when Lucifer is trying and eager to give what they both need. And fuck, does he need this. Longed for it, dreamed of it.
Are you saying I'm your gift? he teases and then gasps, scrambling to put his hands on Lucifer's chest to keep himself balanced. His expression is one of pale pleasure, opening for him, wanting it. So eager. He is too busy sinking into the way it feels to try anything like pulling away, even to get rid of the pants that are going to get in the way of this.
Hell knowledge is already good enough apparently. Istredd likes a little sting, and with his body fortified as it is, he can take plenty of it.
"Unwrap me. Unravel me." Istredd meets his eyes, locks. "Fuck me until you're the only thing that exists."
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It's the thrill backing it, that Lucifer has the ability to sate this unrelenting lust, that amps him up in a way that's another kind of torture but so very different. That Lucifer can give instead of take and still get the same amount of pooling warm heat and desire and results. He sucks on Istredd's bottom lip and pulls his desire into him, the benefit of their mental boundaries being currently strong. Themselves, loud and powerful and something other where they do meet with mental friction.
The experience alone Lucifer snacks on, takes bits into himself like a corvid stashing pieces away.
Desire is as alien to Lucifer as love but he's understanding it much, much faster.
He doesn't stop touching Istredd.
Doesn't stop giving into his wants because this Lucifer has control over, for the time being, and if he were to lose that control it only means good things, right? He wants to trust in Istredd's spell, the warding over the room. He's done with his singing though, Istredd would have to beg on a different level entirely for Lucifer to raise his chords. But he doubts he'll need to, free hand finding the oil and dexterously fumbling with it.
They've already discussed his limited knowledge but some things simply translate 1:1 that he understands the logistics and in spite of his Father does he want to fuck Istredd. Break the man down to fractions.
"I don't need a gift," he starts aloud, and finishes with vibrations echoed over their bond, if I can just unwrap you as he presses purposely now-cooled fingers into Istredd. His eyes never leave Istredd's face, soaking in the changes of expression, the slipped-escaped breaths.
See? He's so incredibly charitable.
no subject
He has no qualms about begging, no hesitation about laying himself emotionally bare for someone he trusts. Istredd moans and for a moment he doesn't have the strength to stay upright, leaning down into him, helplessly pushing into Lucifer's grip, his touch. This isn't the best way but damned if he'll stop it. Not when Lucifer is trying and eager to give what they both need. And fuck, does he need this. Longed for it, dreamed of it.
Are you saying I'm your gift? he teases and then gasps, scrambling to put his hands on Lucifer's chest to keep himself balanced. His expression is one of pale pleasure, opening for him, wanting it. So eager. He is too busy sinking into the way it feels to try anything like pulling away, even to get rid of the pants that are going to get in the way of this.
Hell knowledge is already good enough apparently. Istredd likes a little sting, and with his body fortified as it is, he can take plenty of it.
"Unwrap me. Unravel me." Istredd meets his eyes, locks. "Fuck me until you're the only thing that exists."