There was nothing Lucifer liked more than having the Detective spent and sated in his bed, anticipating whether she would fall asleep, or want to snuggle, or propose ideas for what they should do once she had rested. Right now he was especially pleased to know that it was early in the evening with nothing demanding their attention until tomorrow, and that she knew it too and was fully embracing the freedom. She was relaxed. Happy.
She was also feeling talkative, apparently, which suited his mood quite well. Lying on her side, facing him and weaving her fingers through his, she revisited highlights of their lovemaking with no trace of inhibition: “I like watching you touch yourself. That was hot.”
“Mmm.” He grinned and pressed her forehead to hers. “I like watching you watch me touch myself.”
She snorted, but didn’t digress to tease him about it. “And that thing with your fingers when I still had my panties on. But don’t do it too often, the fun part is when I’m not expecting it.”
“Detective, you should know by now I won’t run out of ways to take you by surprise.” He shifted himself back against the pillows and brushed a lock of her hair from her eyes. “Fancy a soak?”
“Ooh, yes please.” She sat up, blankets pooling in her lap. “And a drink. Something refreshing.”
Lucifer leaned down to reach the control panel on the side of the bed to start the hot tub filling up. Before getting up, he took the Detective’s hand and planted a kiss on it. “Whatever your heart desires.”
Walking around his home naked was nothing new, but he could sense his lover’s eyes on him, enjoying his form, and it was such a delightful thought that he couldn’t help but regret leaving her line of vision to get behind the bar. In another moment the problem was solved when she followed him, and then he had forgotten all about his own body in favor of admiring hers. She looked so natural here, no makeup, no clothes, no caving in to the pressures of the world outside the penthouse.
He invented a refreshing drink for her on the fly, and mixed enough of it to pour himself the same thing. They kissed and toasted over the bar. She took a sip and declared it her new favorite.
The hot tub was nearly filled by then. Out on the balcony, Lucifer watched the Detective test the temperature with her toe and then gradually sink down into the water before he got in beside her, opening his arm so she could come in close and lean against him. Her contented sigh made him wonder if she was done talking for now, but after a brief lull she queried, “I always tell you what I like in bed. What do you like?”
“You,” he replied easily.
“No, but really. What are your favorites? I want to bring my A-game.”
The question made Lucifer feel oddly melancholy, knowing, without dwelling on why, that he couldn’t answer it without collapsing the current illusion that he was human. “I don’t have any favorites. I like what you like.”
She angled her face upward to raise an eyebrow at him. “That seems a little off…”
“It’s true. I’ve tried every kink, every fetish, every possible use for a willing body. It was only ever as enjoyable as my partners made it.”
“But you did enjoy it,” she pressed. “Or you wouldn’t have kept doing it. And you must have had at least some partners that weren’t anything special.”
Lucifer began running his fingers through her hair, intent on reminding her that his heart and soul were here with her now, regardless of where the rest of him had been. “I doubt I would have noticed if they were. I was only paying attention to my own performance, you see. What mattered was that they did too.”
“Well, what about when you didn’t have a partner? What did you fantasize about?”
“You,” he said again.
She slipped her hand through the water to pinch his ribs. “Quit dodging. I mean before me.”
“Truly, Detective. In what circumstances - before you - can you imagine me ever not having a partner, assuming I wanted one enough to be fantasizing?”
“Come on, not everyone lusts after you. I mean, there’s straight men, gay women, Ella…”
“None of whom have ever interested me, sexually.”
By her tone it was clear she really was curious now, her bright analytical mind eager to unravel whatever mystery she thought was behind the truths he had been telling her. “So what if you were stuck somewhere there was nobody around that you were attracted to? That must have happened at some point. Horny and frustrated and nothing you can do about it?”
“No.” Lucifer reached for his glass on the edge of the tub and took a slow sip, contemplating the right way to explain it to her. “Arousal, lust, orgasm, all those were invented for the sake of mortal reproduction, which of course doesn’t apply to celestial beings. I can enjoy the same physical sensations, but if I’m without them for any length of time, I won’t feel the need for release.”
She was silent for a moment, and he feared that he had upset her, but her pensive expression hadn’t changed and neither had her position, pressed close to his side with one of the bubble jets massaging the small of her back. Finally she put forward a tentative statement: “Most angels don’t have sex.”
“No,” he confirmed.
“Why did you decide to try it in the first place?”
“Because my father didn’t approve. And then…” He thought back to the dawn of humanity, when everything was new and unexpected and fascinating. He didn’t want to mention Eve directly, sensing she might still be a sore spot for the Detective, but his first time had never really been about Eve anyway. “I could feel her desire for me. It was intoxicating. The only thing better was fulfilling it...and I suppose that never changed.”
There was just a brief pause before she exclaimed, “Oh! I think I get it.” Scooting back in the tub so she could look up at him, she continued, “You’re turned on by people being attracted to you. It must be because of your mojo.”
He reached for one of her feet so he could occupy his hands with massaging it while he considered that hypothesis. Offhand, he couldn’t disprove it, but… “It takes more than that. I can’t count the number of interested parties I’ve rejected without a second thought.”
“But my point is, nobody rejected you. And that’s why you were so confused when I did - you had only ever wanted to sleep with people who already wanted to sleep with you.” She was gaining momentum now, getting closer to solving the case. “You thought it was something different about me, but it really wasn’t. It was just the first time your attraction wasn’t reciprocated.”
Was it? Perhaps. Some humans had been able to resist his allure, but that wasn’t the same as not being affected by it. And every demon in Hell was always ready to fornicate with him, considering it an honor and a privilege. “You may be onto something,” he allowed, “but tell me, Detective, once and for all: Were you truly not interested in having sex with me?”
She giggled in the middle of taking a sip from her drink, making her sputter. Very carefully, she set it back down in a safe spot and slipped her foot away from him, only to maneuver the other one into his lap for it to get its turn in his hands. “Once and for all, I really wasn’t. I mean, I’m not blind, I know a hot guy when I see one, but the last thing I wanted at the time was a hookup, and you were such a jerk…”
Lucifer found he wasn’t even tempted to be offended, or hurt, or guilty, and he loved that. He loved the way she had changed the way he saw himself. “I was, wasn’t I?” He grinned. “A hot guy, I mean.”
“You still are,” she agreed sweetly, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “But now you’re one I am interested in having sex with.”
His immediate impulse was to wonder if that meant she was ready for another round, but now he wanted to finish investigating this discovery about himself. “It still would mean that there was something different about you,” he mused. “If it’s true I’m attracted to desire, your immunity to my power shouldn’t have counteracted that.”
“Hm.” Having regained her foot after a few last rubs, she leaned back and picked up her glass again. “So you think I’ve got more than just the immunity? Like I’m imbued with some kind of Devil catnip?”
Lucifer couldn’t hold in his laughter. “Devil catnip! Yes, that’s the only possible explanation. That’s exactly what you are.” He pulled her close for a kiss on her mischievously smirking lips. “Irresistible. Catnip.”
She proved it immediately by tracing a path with her wet fingers up his chest to his jawline, still sipping the drink she held with her other hand, still holding his gaze. Just before it became too sexy to bear, she pulled back, saying, “You’ve been the catnip all your life. It’s good you had to learn what it feels like to be the cat.”
“I’d object to that in any other context, but as far as this analogy goes…” He shrugged. “Meow.”
“So it doesn’t bother you?”
“Only if it bothers you, darling.” He regretfully expected it to, truth be told. The topic had become much easier to discuss, but on some level she must still have misgivings. “And if that’s the case I hope you’ll guide me on how to help.”
But the Detective shook her head, unperturbed. “It doesn’t. Not since we figured out that the miracle didn’t create the way we feel about each other.” She lay her head on his shoulder. Under the surface, her hand settled on his thigh, suggestive without yet initiating anything. “You know, I always wondered…”
“What?” he prompted as she trailed off.
Her voice was almost shy as she found her words. “Why you never seemed to have a problem with your fuckbuddies falling in love with you.” She lifted a hand to stop him before he interjected. “I know, I know, you didn’t lead them on. But, look, speaking as a human...it happens. People get lonely, they have one great night with a gorgeous rich guy who gives them everything they want and doesn’t seem to want anything in return...statistically, some are going to get the wrong idea.”
Lucifer looked down, trying to make out the shape of her hand through the churning water. She was right, but he wouldn’t have believed it before now; the evanescence of sexual relationships was simply the way his world had worked. If a human he brought into his bed had failed to understand the implicit rules of the arrangement, they might have left with a broken heart, but he wouldn’t have cared. He might not even have noticed.
When the Detective had interviewed eight weeks’ worth of his lovers and they all called the experience “meaningless,” though, he had found he cared after all. It made no sense to him at the time - the sex had been flawless with every single one. What more could anyone ask for?
“They didn’t want love,” he realized out loud. “Anyone who was looking for a meaningful union wouldn’t pursue me, because that isn’t part of my power. All I was offering was outstanding sex with no strings.” He turned to meet her eyes, wondering if she was making the same connection that he was. “So therefore I wouldn’t be attracted to them.”
“And that meant you wouldn’t give them a chance to fall for you.” Her hand tightened on his leg, just for a pulse. “You’ve been alone for so long. I keep trying to grasp it all, but it’s too much, that loneliness.”
He alighted a gentle fingertip on her lips. “This is no time to talk of loneliness.”
“No,” she agreed. “It’s time to talk of desire.”
The hint that she was ready to make love again was enough to bring a response from his body, but she was already kissing his neck and caressing his waist. “What do you feel?” she breathed into his ear.
He filled his arms with her, sharing her weight with the water but keeping her attention for himself. “Catnip,” he purred in response.
“I want you so bad. You must be able to feel it.”
Struck by the literalism in the otherwise conventional pillow talk, he knew he couldn’t leave it unanswered. Without a second of hesitation he cupped his hands under her and lifted her out of the tub, setting her on the edge and holding tightly to her hips to keep her balanced as she gasped at the air cooling her wet body.
Lucifer’s eye level was at her belly, and he wanted to touch and kiss and stare, but he first had to be looking up at her face to say what he needed to say. Chloe was lovely in the dim scattered light of the penthouse, and it made his voice low and reverent. “I feel it,” he said. “But if this is your desire, it’s not like any that I have ever known before. If I had no power at all I would still feel it. If I had no physical form. If I had no memory.”
She laid a trembling hand against his face. “Lucifer…”
There were times that just hearing her say his name was too much for him. For the space of a heartbeat, he truly had no power or form or memory, but he did have her, a woman to worship who matched his own desire. He held still while she bent down to kiss him, and then it was time to dedicate himself to giving her what she wanted.
When he buried his face between her thighs she cried out, and in an instant she had swung her legs over his arms and crossed her ankles behind his shoulders. Her trust in his hands to keep her safely balanced might have been unconscious, but for him it was part of the thrill, just as much as the heady scent of her as his tongue found its path.
Had he ever really made a human feel the way he felt now? It seemed impossible. All his legendary magnetism could never come close to the effect that Chloe had on him.
She was breathing heavily now, clutching fistfuls of his hair, and every time his tongue flicked over her clit, she moaned something that sounded like his name until it lost all intelligibility. Lucifer himself was focused and driven, always thinking three steps ahead, filing away everything he was learning about what she liked and applying everything he had learned before, but still he couldn’t regard this as him pleasuring her. It was the other way around; she was bestowing the greatest of gifts on him by allowing it.
Since this was just a warmup for the real fun, he didn’t draw it out for too long. She came apart on the ledge, her feet slipping down and back into the water, her body leaning forward for him to catch and embrace as he stood up. She rested her head against his shoulder and murmured, “No more tub. Too warm.”
Obligingly, Lucifer held her hand to steady her so she could get her feet back on the floor. While he followed, she found the rack of towels and tossed him one, but just now he didn’t think he could be bothered with taking the time to dry off completely. He ran it over his hair and then picked up Chloe while she was still toweling herself off, carrying her in one arm heedless of her laughing protests. By the time they had returned to the penthouse’s living area, she had her arms around his neck and was distracting him with kisses at every step.
He threw his towel down on the nearest couch and set her down gently on top of it, hoping that the surface was comfortable enough for her. If it wasn’t, they could go back to the bed, but they had already used that location once tonight and he liked giving each of her orgasms its own distinct setting.
Chloe looked content lying back on the towel - not to mention stunning, of course - but she let go of him and folded her hands over her middle instead of going back to kissing him. “How about now?” she said conversationally. “Can you feel my desire?”
Lucifer knew when he was being teased, and the last thing he wanted to do was discourage it, so he sat down at the other end of the couch a few inches from her feet. Recalling what she had said after tonight’s first time, he began to slowly masturbate, making sure she had a good view of his erection. “Maybe,” he replied. “But under such scrutiny I hardly know what to make of myself.”
She was definitely watching, and definitely enjoying it, but she didn’t give up the game. “What if I fell asleep? Would you just...turn off?”
“I most certainly would not.” As soon as the words were out, he had to stop and think about them, perplexing him enough to change the rhythm of his hand on his cock.
Chloe noticed. “What is it?”
“I, ah...I seem to recall that I did used to turn off whenever my companions fell asleep. No consciousness, no desire…”
“...No desire from their side, no attraction on yours,” she finished. “But it’s not like that with me?”
Lucifer shook his head, at a loss for how to interpret this latest revelation. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”
“It’s okay. I understand now. Come here.” She rose up on an elbow and reached out for him. “You can’t feel my desire for you. It must be part of my immunity to your mojo.”
“But I do,” he insisted as he took her hand and let her pull him into position over him so they were eye to eye.
“What you feel from me is something else. It doesn’t stop when I’m unconscious or when I’m not in the mood.” She drew a deep breath, causing her breasts to rise up to touch his chest. “Because it’s not lust. And it’s not just catnip. It’s love.”
The truth of it coursed through him like a flash flood. If he had ever known what he was lacking through all those millennia of loveless copulation, the despair of it would have crushed him. He searched the oceanic depths of Chloe’s eyes and saw that she knew exactly what he was going through, and that he didn’t have to try to explain it.
Wordless, he kissed her deeply, and she arched her back beneath him, urging him to enter her. He held her tight, whispering the name dearest to his heart, the one he saved for the times he could find no other way to express such magnitude. Her need for him flared like an aura, and with every stroke, her words played back in his mind: Because it’s love, it’s love, it’s love.
Read it on Ao3.
It had been a long day, and Chloe had kept herself going by daydreaming about the moment she stepped out of the elevator and into Lucifer’s arms. Now that she was on her way up, though, reality had intruded: She felt weary, unkempt, anything but sexy.
She would have stopped at home to shower before coming here, but when she floated that idea to Lucifer on the phone he had sounded personally offended. “You can shower here,” he insisted. “It’s been nearly nineteen hours since I’ve seen you, Detective, surely you don’t mean to add another one!”
His impatience made her wonder how he had been spending all that time. Before they became a couple, she would have assumed that whenever he wasn’t on the job with her he was partying - if not entertaining visitors in his bed, then drinking and performing downstairs. But now he was nothing if not loyal, and that was bound to disrupt his prior habits.
As the elevator doors slid open, Chloe sighed. Lucifer’s boredom wouldn’t lead him to cheat on her, but it could easily put him into an irritable temper. He was accustomed to more sex per day than any one mortal woman could deliver. Allowing for her limits must frustrate him, even if he would never say so.
With that in mind she was considering how to strike the right balance between feeling rushed and feeling guilty about making him wait, but he wasn’t immediately visible anyway. “I’m here,” she called out. “Lucifer?”
“Be right there, darling!” came the answer from around the corner. “Just getting everything ready for you.”
That probably meant he had a surprise waiting, and it was probably the kind that involved him appearing naked and oiled up, or in full S&M gear. She didn’t know whether to laugh or groan, but she set down her purse and jacket on the bar and tried to psych herself up for whatever came next.
Lucifer wasn’t holding anything when he came out to greet her, though, and he was dressed as he usually was at home. He smiled brightly and took her hands, giving her a single, chaste kiss on the lips and then gesturing grandly back the way he had come. “May I escort my lady to her shower?”
Chloe felt a weight lifting from her tired shoulders. He wasn’t even hinting that he wanted to join her - she could concentrate on herself until she was ready for him. “Thanks,” she said sincerely. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Like everything else that Lucifer owned, the penthouse’s bathroom was beyond luxurious. Chloe had poked her head in the shower once, just out of curiosity, and found it had no showerhead but a ceiling that rained down evenly across the oversized stall. She was childishly excited to try it out for herself, even more so when she saw that Lucifer had stocked it with all of the products that she preferred.
The water pressure and temperature were perfect, and she felt a hundred times better when she got out. After wrapping herself in a couple of ludicrously soft towels, she went back to the nook where she had noticed Lucifer’s dark red robe hanging. Yes, there was a white and gold one next to it, made with the same cut and fine material, and - she pulled it from the hook to look closer - the pocket was monogrammed with her initials.
Chloe’s heart fluttered. She was used to Lucifer’s random displays of generosity, but this was more than just a gift. This was a sign that he wanted his home to be hers, too, that this space was for the two of them and not for temporary visitors.
Invigorated, she decided to see if there were any more preparations he had made in here. Opening every drawer and cabinet, she found a hairbrush and comb set, a blowdryer, slippers that matched the robe, toothbrushes, deodorant, and even a box of tampons. Some of the items had her monogram, and everything except the disposables was in the white and gold color scheme, driving home the point that they were for her use. It was all so practical. So much better than the time he’d bought her a car.
As soon as she left the bathroom, wearing the robe and slippers and feeling deeply affectionate toward her Devil, she heard the sound of the piano. It was nothing she recognized, but light and playful enough to improve even more on her mood, especially when she came through the bedroom and saw that Lucifer was now shirtless and barefoot.
He finished the tune with one hand, beckoning Chloe with the other, even as she noticed another thing that had changed in the room while she was gone - a padded table was off to the side, and most of the lighting had been replaced with the glow of a dozen candles.
“Oh wow,” was all she could say. “A massage, really? Lucifer, you didn’t have to - first let’s - I know you’ve been waiting--”
“--I’ve been waiting,” he corrected, “for you to be here, under my hands, discovering yet another of my unparalleled talents. On the table with you.”
Chloe laughed and let him take the robe from her so she could climb on and stretch out, face down, her damp hair brushed off to the side. Soft classical music began to play, and a bottle of something aromatic was opened, and then Lucifer’s hands were on her back, kneading her tired muscles.
Her first reaction was to release an involuntary groan, an embarrassing sound that Lucifer would have been completely justified in mocking. He did laugh, but smugly, as if he counted it a victory. “I can already tell you need more of this than you’ve been getting,” he informed her. “I may need to hold you to a regular schedule.”
Chloe was already past any desire to argue it. “Mmmmkay,” she sighed. He was on the small of her back, tackling tensions she felt she had been holding there for months. If he had said she needed to do this for forty hours a week, she would have gone with it. “I did….really need this...after today.”
Lucifer’s hands didn’t stop, but his voice sounded a little concerned. “Would you like to tell me about it?”
She noticed an opportunity, and took it. “Actually, I’d rather hear about your day.”
“Oh? Well then, let’s see.” He took a boyish pleasure in talking about himself, which was in itself worth hearing. “I had an impromptu session with the Doctor, who, by the way, says I’ve made even more progress over the past few weeks. I treated your offspring and her father to lunch at that new sushi restaurant. I’m afraid it’s nothing special but I managed to sneak a large glob of wasabi into Daniel’s California roll, so the experience wasn’t a total loss.”
Her laughter turned into a sharp intake of breath as he found a knot, and he stopped speaking while he worked on it. Soon the pressure of his fingertips transformed the ache into relief, and he carried on the narrative. “After that I returned to Lux to interview a new bouncer--”
Chloe interrupted with an exclamatory squeak. “So you do have normal managerial club owner duties! I could never figure out who actually does the work to run the place.”
“Of course I run the place,” he protested with exaggerated affront. “Though I’d hardly call my duties normal. Lux is no ordinary club, and it takes supervision to keep it that way.”
“Mmhm,” Chloe agreed, smiling. “So did you hire the guy?”
“I did, in fact. Next time you come in through the main entrance, look for midnight blue nail polish and say hello to Steve.”
“I will. Okay, welcome on board, Steve. What did you do after that?”
Before answering, he stepped back and instructed her to turn over, which she did while he was reapplying some of the scented lotion to his hands. Chloe took in the sight of his chiseled physique until he came to her with a warmed and weighted eye mask, which she reluctantly accepted, telling herself that she would have plenty of time after this to check out her boyfriend.
She felt his hands on her shoulders at the same time as she heard his voice. “By then the crowds had begun to arrive, so I played a set for them...a bit of Pink Floyd, a bit of Nina Simone...Tori Amos…”
“Oh, I like her!”
“Do you? We’ll have her around sometime.” Of course he knew Tori Amos. He had probably known Syd Barrett and Nina Simone, too, but he didn’t go into details about any of them. “I mingled for a while. Dealt out a few favors. Turned down the advances of six ladies and one gentleman.”
Chloe wondered if he had felt like he needed to say that last part to assure her of his fidelity. He must know that she trusted him, though. Maybe he just wanted to hear some approval. “It’s a burden, being so irresistible,” she said gently. “Were they upset?”
Lucifer’s hands had moved down her sides and past her hips, and now he was doing magical things to her left leg. “Mostly confused, I think. I’m afraid it will take some time yet for my reputation to lose its infamy.”
She heard the note of apology in his voice, and understood: He was telling her because he wanted her to know that if this kind of thing kept happening, it was due to who he had been and not who he was now. “Let them be confused,” she murmured as he moved on to the other leg. “Adds to your air of mystery. Anything else happen today?”
“No, I believe that brings us up to the present. I had just stepped into the elevator when you called.”
Chloe’s entire body now felt healed and supple, but Lucifer was still going, and for a few minutes she lay silently to enjoy it. He visited light touches on areas that would have been covered by a towel in a professional massage, but nothing was outright sensual until he got to her breasts. The symmetrical rolling motions and the press of his fingers, over and under and around, were coyly edging into foreplay, and her anticipation was climbing. She wanted to feel his mouth, hot against her own, or on her neck or covering a nipple, but it was still only his hands making contact with her body, and she realized that she was the one who had to make the call on when to move this into the bedroom.
With a lazy smile, she pulled the mask from her eyes. As she regained her sight, the flirtatious remark waiting on her lips was taken over by a rushing gasp.
Lucifer had his wings out.
They weren’t fully spread, but held in graceful arcs framing his body, rows of feathers catching the glow of candlelight in a subtle play of color. With each breath that Lucifer drew, the wings lifted along with the movement of his bare chest, full of life and energy. It was, without a doubt, the most beautiful sight that Chloe had ever beheld.
She breathed his name, and his anxious expression broke into a hesitant smile. His uncertainty wrenched at her heart; she couldn’t guess what he was thinking, but why would he expect anything but awe from her reaction?
Unless… “You’re not going anywhere, are you?” Her voice was still barely above a whisper.
“What? Oh. No, I - sorry. Of course you would think that. Careless of me.” He rolled his shoulders, and the wings vanished with a ruffle of sound.
Chloe tried not to look too disappointed. She still had Lucifer here, after all, and he was still beautiful even without the wings. “It just surprised me,” she said, sitting up on the massage table. “I didn’t know you ever, um, take them out if you’re not...using them.”
Lucifer nodded, looking solemn and slightly abashed. “I usually don’t. I feel a bit of a fool right now, but the truth is that I was remembering when they were stolen from me. It was in our early days, but you helped me find them, and when you saw the fake pair, you said they were...gorgeous. I thought you might like to see the real thing again.”
“The only reason I didn’t ask to is that I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable with it.”
“Oh.” He blinked a few times. “Then, should I…?”
Chloe bit her lip and nodded - maybe a little too eagerly, but the payoff was instantaneous. She was even glad that he had taken the wings away, since this time she got to watch them unfurl. It gave her a sense of peace, like everything was right with the world, and the symphonic music that had faded into the background now seemed like it was a perfect accompaniment to the movement of Lucifer’s wings.
After a few seconds of silence, he cleared his throat. “Detective,” he said with mock severity, “my eyes are over here.”
Smiling broadly, Chloe reached up to take his face between her hands and bring it to hers for a long kiss. Without breaking contact he slid one arm under her legs and the other behind her back, effortlessly lifting her off the table and turning toward the bedroom. She locked her hands at the nape of his neck and leaned her head on his shoulder to sneak another look at the wings. “Gorgeous” was a word befitting the decoys they had seen in the case, but she couldn’t think of one that could convey the exponentially greater beauty of the real things, here in their rightful place.
When he laid her down on the bed she sought another kiss, but without the frantic urgency that they usually had by this point. The pressure to rush was gone, and aside from Lucifer’s slacks, there were no clothes to tear off of each other. Chloe wanted to take it slow, engage her senses, bask in the comfortable sensitivity that the massage had given her body.
“It’s alright to touch them, you know,” Lucifer murmured, still close enough for his lips to brush against her cheek as he spoke.
Chloe started, then pushed herself up to sitting. She hadn’t even realized that she had been staring at his wings again, but it was the invitation that really took her off guard. She wanted very much to touch them, and not only because they looked so silky. This was the only part of Lucifer’s body that he had any self-consciousness about, and she already felt like she was being honored by seeing them in private. Was he pushing the bounds of his own comfort level?
But no, he wouldn’t have said anything if he didn’t want her to touch them. Cautiously she reached past his arm and laid her palm on the wrist joint of the left wing, then ran it down to the end of the frontmost primary feather, which was just as soft and smooth as it looked. She met his eyes with a shy smile, and he smiled back, so she did it again.
Then the wing returned her touch, lifting up and brushing lightly across her face and neck and bare shoulder. It tickled, and just seconds later, she and Lucifer were both giggling madly as she fought off the gentle feathery buffets coming from both sides.
She won by directing her attention to his belt, feeling him going hard even as she got it unbuckled and went for the fly. From there, Lucifer freed himself swiftly, kicking the pants off the bed and kneeling tall and proud, fully erect, wings spread.
Chloe first took his hands, using them to pull herself onto her knees and closer to him until his cock was pressed warmly against her belly. As he sank onto his heels she reached behind his back, burying her hands in feathery bliss on either side, and was beguiled by the sound of pleasure she could hear deep in his chest. “Does that feel good?” she ventured, settling onto his lap.
“Yes. Yes, it does.” He leaned his head back like a stretching cat, fondling her breasts with one hand and pressing the other to her back. Chloe didn’t need to ask if she should look for other avian erogenous zones. She raked her fingers through his secondaries, rubbed the downy undersides, stroked along the top edge and where they met his back.
Finally, as if he couldn’t take it anymore, he cupped his hands under her cheeks and raised her up, just high enough for her to feel the head of his cock and find the right angle to guide it into herself. Both of them let out a long breath and held still in the embrace for a moment before beginning to move. Chloe set a slow rhythm, and Lucifer kept it with the support of his hands, rising and falling beneath her.
Chloe wasn’t used to having her eyes open during sex, but she found she couldn’t close them while the wings were there to see. Whether he even remembered that they were still out, she couldn’t guess, but after a few strokes, they had mantled around her in a pose that almost seemed instinctual. Everything was radiant white, soft as a fleece blanket but strong as a fortress. The sweetness of Lucifer’s movement within her was like divine music. If Heaven was anything like the way he described it, this was far, far better.
He was nibbling at her neck in between murmurs of, “My love, my queen, my Chloe,” and she could feel her climax building when he eased them to a stop and withdrew, lowering her to the bed on her back.
Any objection she might have had to the change melted away when he lay beside her, his head propped up on an elbow, and started on a one-handed, erotic version of the massage he had given her. The interlude was welcome, especially with the view it gave her of his brash grin and slouching wings, but soon she found out what he was really up to. With his mouth on one of her breasts and hand on the other, she couldn’t tell what his wing was doing until it swept between her legs.
Chloe cried out as a thrill ran through her body and Lucifer’s feathers came up damp. Briefly she struggled with the threat of feeling ashamed - was this perverse? Had she defiled an angel’s wing?
It didn’t last. She knew what Lucifer would say to that: You’re making love to the Devil, darling, perversion is just the icing.
Her mood had gone from lust to doubt to amusement so quickly that it must have shown something odd on her expression. Lucifer looked up from sucking on her nipple to raise an eyebrow. “What is it you’re thinking about, my dear?”
Too content to make anything up, she responded, “Is it messed up that I find your wings so sexy?”
“Not in the slightest. Feathers are a time-honored tool of intimacy.”
Chloe smiled. “I don’t think they’ve traditionally been used quite like this.”
Before she had time to wonder if there had ever been an exception to that rule, he confirmed, “They never have.” His wing made another pass over her bare skin, this time lingering to flutter over her ribs. “Clever of you to discover this use for them.”
“I never thought you would share so much of yourself with me,” she admitted, trailing her finger down a primary feather. “I found the hairdryer in the bathroom...and you waited for me all day just to give me a massage, and now this…”
His brow creased. “You didn’t expect me to want you here?”
“I just don’t know what I can give you in return. Wings are just the beginning of what I don’t have.”
“Chloe,” he said, and even though he had used it several times already tonight, it still had an impact. “You must understand, I hated my wings. I cursed their very existence. Severed them from my body over and over again. Threw them out with the rubbish.” He stroked her face tenderly. “But now I quite like having them. I didn’t even know for sure until tonight, but I do.”
Her voice felt small. “You mean, because I like them?”
He nodded. “It makes all the difference. And the same goes for any other part of myself or my life you can take any pleasure in. Giving you what you want means that I get what I want too.”
It occurred to her that he had been ignoring his own hard-on so that they could have this conversation, and that there must be some truth to what he was saying if that didn’t even bother him. “In that case,” she whispered close to his ear, “I want you to make me come.”
Lucifer was on top of her in a flash, pinning her wrists to the mattress, claiming her mouth with his own. When she came, her eyes closed, but only for a second, and she opened them to witness Lucifer’s simultaneous climax. His wings opened, filling the room and beating the air into a wind that stirred up Chloe’s hair and all of the bedding. They moved in time with his final thrusts, flapping once, twice, then collapsing down into a feathery blanket before disappearing.
Panting, Chloe pushed her fingers through Lucifer’s hair, appreciating the fine sheen of sweat over his skin. She had never seen him sweating under the hot Los Angeles sun no matter how many layers his suit had, but he did during sex. There was nothing at all inhuman about his appearance when he looked over his shoulder and muttered, “Damn, didn’t mean to lose them already.”
It took some persuasion for her to convince him that she didn’t need him to keep his wings out all night for her sake. Even so, just before she fell asleep, she was certain that she felt the touch of a feather against her face.
Read it on Ao3.