[ While the kiss lasted, Lucifer let it be a battle, a lashing of her tongue against his, a battle for dominance that she didn't surrender to. ]
Oh, I bet you would. That's just the kind of man you are. An alpha male, all muscle and testosterone.
[ She rolled the tie around her fist, gripping tight, and then as she rolled her shoulders back, Lucifer tugged him after her, squaring her feet to put some force behind it. She pulled on the tie like it was a leash, for a leash it was. ]
I'm sure you have no idea how to give all that up, even for a beautiful woman. To surrender, absolutely...
[ She left him standing in the middle of the room, pulling clear with a sharp jerk away, and her hand raising up in a flat 'stop' gesture. ]
Stay. Good boy.
[ But to rock her condescending tone, Lucifer reached down to take hold of the bottom of her dress, pulling it up over her head. The underwear she wore, as scarlet as the dress, was designed to accentuate her assets. Suspenders and sheer stockings made her legs seem to go on forever. It was all designed to hold him in thrall while she took advantage. The dress pooled at her feet. ]
Oh, you have no ide-- hnggk. [It's not the easiest thing to sound seductive or sexy when being almost garrotted by your own tie, and it's surprise that has him trailing after her without question. His half removed jacket falls to the floor as he's tugged along and as much as he'd love to go back and pick up that ridiculously expensive item of clothing, he's a little busy with being led to do any kind of half-folds or hanging up. The moment he's given the chance, he straightens, working a finger into the knot to loosen it back up while trying to maintain some level of dignity.
The hand gesture, the command; both things he's beyond tempted to counter by moving after her, but then she's lifting that dress over her head and he freezes on the spot, watching eagerly. He thought it difficult that she'd be able to get any more beautiful than she already was, but now Angel's standing there looking like every wet dream ever, and Winger has to remind himself that he's one lucky bastard.
No need to remind him more than once that he's already over dressed for the occasion, fingers quickly lowering to unbutton his waistcoat, then his shirt, leaving them to fall open as he moves to step closer, desperate to get his hands back on her.] Only the tie?
Only the tie, [ She confirmed, with a sharp tilt of her chin as Jeff jerked forward, giving her head a half shake. ] If you want to touch any of this, you're going to have to learn to be more obedient.
[ As if to reenforce her point, Lucifer placed her hand against the center of her breastbone, just under the front clasp of her bra. For a moment, it seemed like she might undo it, but instead her fingers slid down, traced the curve of her ribcage, and then descended down to the swell of her belly. Her fingers curled, just the tip of one dipping underneath the waistband of her underwear. The lace hid just enough. ]
I know it's hard. [ She paused on the word to give it suitable gravitas, and licked her lips. ] But it's absolutely worth it, don't you think? Just giving in...
I'm guessing you've never actually been a submissive. Let me teach you, Mr. Winger. You won't regret it.
[It's so, so hard, or it's definitely going that way if Jeff doesn't sort out this whole getting out of his pants thing soon. She's too distracting though, that trailing hand, finger curling beneath her underwear, the tongue against her lips. He licks his lips too, eyes focused solidly on her lace underwear as she talks. Something about submitting.]
I don't think there's much left you can teach me, but you could try. [Making it obvious from the start that he knows what he's doing in bed, suggesting that he's amazing at it with that sort of experience.
He kicks his shoes off with ease, one then the other, stepping out of them and forward as his hands work on his belt, button and then zip, opening them all but keeping his pants on for the moment. He's halfway there, shirt open, pants open, shoes off, but then he's moving to close the gap, reaching out a hand to hook his fingers into her waistband with the intent of encouraging her closer.]
You sure you just want me rolling over like a good boy? Because I'm way better when I'm bad.
[Catching his bottom lip between his teeth because lip bites are the way to any woman's heart.]
[ Sometimes all it took to convince the other person that you were rocking between the sheets was to be absolutely confident in the fact that you were, and Jeff was no newcomer to the genre. He was confident enough to close the distance that she had put between them, and hook a hand in her underwear, which was all kinds of cocky all on its own.
She slid easily into his arms, let him touch, let him get a feel - perhaps down the back of her thighs, the silk and lace, the silver buckles, but her eyes hung low, lashes shrouding her gaze, so that nothing was given away. ]
Bad boys get punished, Mr. Winger.
[ She said it so promisingly, and then, taking hold of one of those eager paws, she twisted it around behind his back, sidestepping past his hip as she did, and thrusting him - hopefully his lack of balance would mask the fact that Lucifer was cheating a little with his strength - face first down toward the edge of the bed.
Now it was Lucifer's turn to touch inappropriately - or perhaps appropriately, given the situation. She crushed her pelvis against his ass, grinding down, while her hands wandered down his back, all the way to his ass, which she squeezed firmly. ]
Maybe you're just begging for a spanking, but I've never really found that's punishment enough for bad behavior. I guess if you're really bad-- [ She snapped her hips forward, jerking Jeff forward underneath her. ] --I could always pound you, rather than the other way around. If that's not your thing, I suggest you stay on my good side, honey.
[He does get a feel, as much as time will allow, palms and fingers exploring the curves of her hips, the lace of her underwear, the smooth skin of her buttocks, the sheen of silk at her thighs, intent to give a suspender a cheeky flick and yet not even getting close to succeeding.
She's got his arm before he can do anything else, his mind barely able to process what the hell is going on before he finds himself face down in the sheets, a muffled noise of surprise at the soft impact, soon trailing off into a purr as her hands wander and her hips grind. Winger couldn't have countered that move even if he'd tried, she was fast and nimble and surprisingly strong, and he's slow and bulky and entirely untrained, but he's fine with that. Fine with being thrown on the bed, even if it does have her thrusting against him.]
Ho-ly crap. [Still muffled until he finally turns his head to the side, cheek pressed into the bed as he tries to see her from the corner of his eye.] That was awesome. A-grade ass kicking. If that's what I get for being bad, I'm not sure I'd survive the rewards for good.
[Shifting just slightly underneath her, taking the weight away from his twisted arm as much as possible to avoid too much discomfort. He can deal with the grinding and hip jerking, and he can especially deal with the hands on his ass. He can, after all, appreciate any woman capable of kicking ass.]
[ Lucifer smiled handsomely at the compliment, tilting her face over to one side so that she could actually let Jeff see it. ]
The rewards for being good would blow your pretty little mind.
[ She released her hold on his arm, but only so that she could reach for the collar of his shirt and pull the whole kit and caboodle off him. The shirt was tossed aside as carelessly as the jacket, and then she was free to bend in close, pressing her pert mouth against the frame of his ribs, just above the height of his elbow--a ticklish spot.
Her hands wandered still, catching her hands in the waistband of his suit pants to push them down to his knees. The underwear was still in place, of course, but she still ground steadily against him, rhythmic and low. ]
Okay. Now hold still. [ Another order, to see how he obeyed, crouching down behind him and catching the bottom of the underpants legs. Down they went, slowly, and her lips followed, first against the curve of his ass, then down the back of his right leg, slowly. ]
[That smile is great. A lot of this is great. Even if he is bent over the bed with a woman rolling her hips into him, it could be worse, right? It's not something he's entirely against, especially not with someone so attractive and so into him, but clawing back a little more control might be something he needs to aim for eventually.
The shirt's off easily and with his arms now free, he brings them to cross under his head, propping it up just slightly and nestling his forehead into the warmth of his own skin. The lips have him huffing out a throaty laugh, soft and far too ticklish of a touch to be legal, but he definitely wasn't going to complain. Especially not as she travels lower, pulls his pants over his hips and has her hands and lips follow the fabric. God, he didn't even care about that ridiculously expensive suit of his right now. That could get dry cleaned. It'd be entirely worth it.]
Mm. [A small content hum at all this attention, all this worship. Because that's what this is, right? A woman's hands against his body like this is just worship of his form. This isn't him obeying but her idolising him, surely.] I feel like I already need to ask you to marry me. Where have you been all my life?
[ But it couldn't be that, right? Worship of false idols is a sin, Jeff. Lucifer would tell him as much, but she was busy. Preoccupied, actually. She gave him one last lick on the thigh, then grazed her teeth against it, adding just enough suction to leave a dark bruise there. Could she really be blamed for wanting him to flinch when he sat, and remember this whole experience for at least a little while longer? Of course not.
She wasn't too rough, because for the moment it helped if Jeff was a little more obedient, a little more blinded by his own desire. She gave the pants one last rough pull, then stepped back, moving across the room. As she walked, she called out: ]
The window of opportunity for you to touch my breasts is closing in five, four, three--
[ Time to see whether Jeff would try and fail to get out of his pants in time, or try and throw himself across the room in them anyway. Either way it would keep him on his toes, and either way make a point about obeying her commands in the first place. "Everything but the tie" had been very explicit, and now he was going to pay for his flaunting the rules. In the meantime, as she strutted, she took off the bra, unclipping it at the front and pushing it back off her shoulders, before turning to see what option Jeff had chosen: ]
[Nothing wrong with a little worship. He did it virtually every day to himself, idolising himself, his body a literal temple as he desperately tried to keep it at an acceptable level of perfection. If women wanted to come visit this temple of his and show their appreciation, who was he to complain? Let them enjoy their time, let them worship, he could accept any and all praise they had to offer.
This? This was the highest form of praise, soft lips at his thighs, even the teeth approved, hissing out a breath as she sucked against the delicate skin there. She was good, better than most already and they'd barely even begun. So how could he be blamed for wanting to grab a little more?
As the count down begins, he makes his move, pushing himself up straight with an easy push-up, spinning on the spot and making a dash for her-- except he'd already forgotten about the suit pants pooled at his ankles, the ultimate shackles in halting his progress. He falls to the floor with no grace, thumping hard onto an arm and quickly scrabbling to wrestle out of his tailored bindings. There's no way he can make it in time, but he's not going to stop his attempt just for a simple timer, one leg free and already up on one knee by the time she gets to 'one' and... by God, those breasts are distracting as hell...]
[ Jeff on his knees, pants off, looking up at her with an expression of awe--that's what she's wanted all this time. He's so stubborn, so hard to win over, but a little bit of manipulation and there he goes, right where he belongs, on his knees before her.
Lucifer steps forward, slowly, "dressed" only from the waist down, her pert breasts, abs catching the light. She stood over him, amused, then took another step forward, sliding her fingers right into Jeff's hair, holding him tight as she stepped across him. She pressed her crotch to his face, holding him tight as she ground against him. The scent of her arousal was unmistakeable. ]
Do you like that? You want to be used for my pleasure, don't you, Jeff?
[ She tipped his face up toward her, tugging roughly on his hair. ]
I'm going to ride you. I think it's only fair you do a little something for me first, don't you? [ She released her grip on his hair, slowly. ] No hands.
[He's not entirely sure how he ended up in this position when he had every chance to move, but her approach is so sultry, so alluring that he stays right where he is, on his knees, gaze cast upwards as she looms ever closer. It's not an angle he's used to, being this much lower than someone when he tends to be the one towering above others, but it certainly gives him some amazing views.
As that tight grip in his hair drags him in, he's left huffing a few heavy breaths against the warmth she presents, inhaling sharply as he's pulled back, neck craned up to meet her eyes in his. He could fight against this, of course he could, but what fun is there to be had in doing the same shit he always does when he's being presented with this? If she wants foreplay, he's quite happy to give it, so long as he can claim his own pleasure from it all.]
No hands. [He repeats quietly, almost as a reminder to himself and verbal acceptance of the challenge. Not that he's likely to keep to it for long, but he might as well begin on a good note.
Without further questioning he closes the gap again, nose pressing in against her pubic bone to exhale warmly, jaw dropping just enough for his tongue to lap out, the flat of it pressing wetly against her, even with the lacy fabric between them both. He lingers for a few long seconds before closing off with a light, but nevertheless blunt scrape of his bottom teeth, instead turning his attention to literal lip service, light but well placed movements as he mouths against her covered clitoris, hands already starting to lift to her sides because fuck this, it'd be so much easier without that underwear between them.]
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no subject
Oh, I bet you would. That's just the kind of man you are. An alpha male, all muscle and testosterone.
[ She rolled the tie around her fist, gripping tight, and then as she rolled her shoulders back, Lucifer tugged him after her, squaring her feet to put some force behind it. She pulled on the tie like it was a leash, for a leash it was. ]
I'm sure you have no idea how to give all that up, even for a beautiful woman. To surrender, absolutely...
[ She left him standing in the middle of the room, pulling clear with a sharp jerk away, and her hand raising up in a flat 'stop' gesture. ]
Stay. Good boy.
[ But to rock her condescending tone, Lucifer reached down to take hold of the bottom of her dress, pulling it up over her head. The underwear she wore, as scarlet as the dress, was designed to accentuate her assets. Suspenders and sheer stockings made her legs seem to go on forever. It was all designed to hold him in thrall while she took advantage. The dress pooled at her feet. ]
Leave your tie on. Everything else can go.
no subject
The hand gesture, the command; both things he's beyond tempted to counter by moving after her, but then she's lifting that dress over her head and he freezes on the spot, watching eagerly. He thought it difficult that she'd be able to get any more beautiful than she already was, but now Angel's standing there looking like every wet dream ever, and Winger has to remind himself that he's one lucky bastard.
No need to remind him more than once that he's already over dressed for the occasion, fingers quickly lowering to unbutton his waistcoat, then his shirt, leaving them to fall open as he moves to step closer, desperate to get his hands back on her.] Only the tie?
no subject
[ As if to reenforce her point, Lucifer placed her hand against the center of her breastbone, just under the front clasp of her bra. For a moment, it seemed like she might undo it, but instead her fingers slid down, traced the curve of her ribcage, and then descended down to the swell of her belly. Her fingers curled, just the tip of one dipping underneath the waistband of her underwear. The lace hid just enough. ]
I know it's hard. [ She paused on the word to give it suitable gravitas, and licked her lips. ] But it's absolutely worth it, don't you think? Just giving in...
I'm guessing you've never actually been a submissive. Let me teach you, Mr. Winger. You won't regret it.
no subject
I don't think there's much left you can teach me, but you could try. [Making it obvious from the start that he knows what he's doing in bed, suggesting that he's amazing at it with that sort of experience.
He kicks his shoes off with ease, one then the other, stepping out of them and forward as his hands work on his belt, button and then zip, opening them all but keeping his pants on for the moment. He's halfway there, shirt open, pants open, shoes off, but then he's moving to close the gap, reaching out a hand to hook his fingers into her waistband with the intent of encouraging her closer.]
You sure you just want me rolling over like a good boy? Because I'm way better when I'm bad.
[Catching his bottom lip between his teeth because lip bites are the way to any woman's heart.]
no subject
She slid easily into his arms, let him touch, let him get a feel - perhaps down the back of her thighs, the silk and lace, the silver buckles, but her eyes hung low, lashes shrouding her gaze, so that nothing was given away. ]
Bad boys get punished, Mr. Winger.
[ She said it so promisingly, and then, taking hold of one of those eager paws, she twisted it around behind his back, sidestepping past his hip as she did, and thrusting him - hopefully his lack of balance would mask the fact that Lucifer was cheating a little with his strength - face first down toward the edge of the bed.
Now it was Lucifer's turn to touch inappropriately - or perhaps appropriately, given the situation. She crushed her pelvis against his ass, grinding down, while her hands wandered down his back, all the way to his ass, which she squeezed firmly. ]
Maybe you're just begging for a spanking, but I've never really found that's punishment enough for bad behavior. I guess if you're really bad-- [ She snapped her hips forward, jerking Jeff forward underneath her. ] --I could always pound you, rather than the other way around. If that's not your thing, I suggest you stay on my good side, honey.
no subject
She's got his arm before he can do anything else, his mind barely able to process what the hell is going on before he finds himself face down in the sheets, a muffled noise of surprise at the soft impact, soon trailing off into a purr as her hands wander and her hips grind. Winger couldn't have countered that move even if he'd tried, she was fast and nimble and surprisingly strong, and he's slow and bulky and entirely untrained, but he's fine with that. Fine with being thrown on the bed, even if it does have her thrusting against him.]
Ho-ly crap. [Still muffled until he finally turns his head to the side, cheek pressed into the bed as he tries to see her from the corner of his eye.] That was awesome. A-grade ass kicking. If that's what I get for being bad, I'm not sure I'd survive the rewards for good.
[Shifting just slightly underneath her, taking the weight away from his twisted arm as much as possible to avoid too much discomfort. He can deal with the grinding and hip jerking, and he can especially deal with the hands on his ass. He can, after all, appreciate any woman capable of kicking ass.]
no subject
The rewards for being good would blow your pretty little mind.
[ She released her hold on his arm, but only so that she could reach for the collar of his shirt and pull the whole kit and caboodle off him. The shirt was tossed aside as carelessly as the jacket, and then she was free to bend in close, pressing her pert mouth against the frame of his ribs, just above the height of his elbow--a ticklish spot.
Her hands wandered still, catching her hands in the waistband of his suit pants to push them down to his knees. The underwear was still in place, of course, but she still ground steadily against him, rhythmic and low. ]
Okay. Now hold still. [ Another order, to see how he obeyed, crouching down behind him and catching the bottom of the underpants legs. Down they went, slowly, and her lips followed, first against the curve of his ass, then down the back of his right leg, slowly. ]
no subject
The shirt's off easily and with his arms now free, he brings them to cross under his head, propping it up just slightly and nestling his forehead into the warmth of his own skin. The lips have him huffing out a throaty laugh, soft and far too ticklish of a touch to be legal, but he definitely wasn't going to complain. Especially not as she travels lower, pulls his pants over his hips and has her hands and lips follow the fabric. God, he didn't even care about that ridiculously expensive suit of his right now. That could get dry cleaned. It'd be entirely worth it.]
Mm. [A small content hum at all this attention, all this worship. Because that's what this is, right? A woman's hands against his body like this is just worship of his form. This isn't him obeying but her idolising him, surely.] I feel like I already need to ask you to marry me. Where have you been all my life?
no subject
She wasn't too rough, because for the moment it helped if Jeff was a little more obedient, a little more blinded by his own desire. She gave the pants one last rough pull, then stepped back, moving across the room. As she walked, she called out: ]
The window of opportunity for you to touch my breasts is closing in five, four, three--
[ Time to see whether Jeff would try and fail to get out of his pants in time, or try and throw himself across the room in them anyway. Either way it would keep him on his toes, and either way make a point about obeying her commands in the first place. "Everything but the tie" had been very explicit, and now he was going to pay for his flaunting the rules. In the meantime, as she strutted, she took off the bra, unclipping it at the front and pushing it back off her shoulders, before turning to see what option Jeff had chosen: ]
Two, one...
no subject
This? This was the highest form of praise, soft lips at his thighs, even the teeth approved, hissing out a breath as she sucked against the delicate skin there. She was good, better than most already and they'd barely even begun. So how could he be blamed for wanting to grab a little more?
As the count down begins, he makes his move, pushing himself up straight with an easy push-up, spinning on the spot and making a dash for her-- except he'd already forgotten about the suit pants pooled at his ankles, the ultimate shackles in halting his progress. He falls to the floor with no grace, thumping hard onto an arm and quickly scrabbling to wrestle out of his tailored bindings. There's no way he can make it in time, but he's not going to stop his attempt just for a simple timer, one leg free and already up on one knee by the time she gets to 'one' and... by God, those breasts are distracting as hell...]
no subject
Lucifer steps forward, slowly, "dressed" only from the waist down, her pert breasts, abs catching the light. She stood over him, amused, then took another step forward, sliding her fingers right into Jeff's hair, holding him tight as she stepped across him. She pressed her crotch to his face, holding him tight as she ground against him. The scent of her arousal was unmistakeable. ]
Do you like that? You want to be used for my pleasure, don't you, Jeff?
[ She tipped his face up toward her, tugging roughly on his hair. ]
I'm going to ride you. I think it's only fair you do a little something for me first, don't you? [ She released her grip on his hair, slowly. ] No hands.
no subject
As that tight grip in his hair drags him in, he's left huffing a few heavy breaths against the warmth she presents, inhaling sharply as he's pulled back, neck craned up to meet her eyes in his. He could fight against this, of course he could, but what fun is there to be had in doing the same shit he always does when he's being presented with this? If she wants foreplay, he's quite happy to give it, so long as he can claim his own pleasure from it all.]
No hands. [He repeats quietly, almost as a reminder to himself and verbal acceptance of the challenge. Not that he's likely to keep to it for long, but he might as well begin on a good note.
Without further questioning he closes the gap again, nose pressing in against her pubic bone to exhale warmly, jaw dropping just enough for his tongue to lap out, the flat of it pressing wetly against her, even with the lacy fabric between them both. He lingers for a few long seconds before closing off with a light, but nevertheless blunt scrape of his bottom teeth, instead turning his attention to literal lip service, light but well placed movements as he mouths against her covered clitoris, hands already starting to lift to her sides because fuck this, it'd be so much easier without that underwear between them.]