Welcome Home

Week 5 (A Lucifer Hell Week)

~o~

Chloe awakens gradually to the touch of fingertips, large and warm, ghosting along her temple; and warmth curls around inside her. "Lucifer?" she mumbles.

"Expecting someone else in your bedroom in the middle of the night?" comes the very familiar, teasing voice. "Because if so I'm afraid I'll have to commit murder and send them directly to Hell."

Chloe's eyes flutter open. She catches his hand with hers just as he starts to retract it.

"Sorry I woke you," he says softly.

Chloe shakes her head, bringing the back of his hand to her lips, and then interlocking her fingers with his.

It isn't the first time.

It isn't the first time Lucifer abandoned his post without warning during a Hell Week and flew up to steal a few moments, however brief, with Chloe.

Chloe's not complaining. She misses him more than she ought to let herself, each week he's gone.

It's worse for him.

Chloe waits.

Lucifer stares at her, the dim nightlight from the hallway providing just enough light for Chloe to see his face as he sits there in the chair beside her bed. The touch of loneliness she senses in him hurts her heart.

Without a word, she tosses the covers aside, slips from the bed, and climbs into his lap. Even now, such an act of affection from her still takes him by surprise, though it's more fleeting now. She tucks her face against his neck, loving how much of him there is, loving the way he wraps her up in his arms, fully engulfing her. Loving the way he holds her and how much it makes her feel. His hand comes up to cup the back of her head, the touch gentle, reverent even, and Chloe feels her heart move in her chest. She rests her hand against his chest, her fingers lightly stroking him through his suit jacket. "Welcome home," she murmurs, then angles her face to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, feeling him sigh. Her fingers trace his dimpled chin as she searches his face for damage that isn't the physical kind. "You okay?" she whispers softly after several beats, because, of course something brought him here, she knows.

"I am now," he answers, and Chloe smiles a little.

He doesn't offer more, and Chloe accepts it, understanding that sometimes it's not words he needs. She leans her head against his shoulder and lightly rubs her hand up and down his chest.

After a long while, she shifts on his lap, aware of the fact that she's wearing only underwear paired with one of his shirts—no bra. Early on in their relationship Chloe harbored both worry and insecurity that she wouldn't be able to keep up with Lucifer sexually, but as it happens, Lucifer is the most considerate lover she's ever had, never asking her for more than she can give, seemingly content to just hold her and nothing more (though he's certainly always up for more if she's offering). More often than not, Chloe is offering. Very readily, in fact.

Like now.

It never ceases to amaze Chloe, the affect he has on her. Just the feel of him—his thighs thick and hard beneath her, his chest solid and huge, his hand heavy and warm at her waist, seeping warmth into her skin through her shirt—causing lust to stir and coil.

No one has ever ignited a fire in her the way Lucifer does.

She stands briefly so that she can climb back onto him with a knee on either side of him, enjoying the way his eyes darken as she does so.

She rocks forward deliberately as she meets his open-mouthed kiss, feeling him already start to swell beneath her. His hands slide underneath her shirt, and she breaks the kiss, reaches down for the hem, and pulls it over her head.

Lucifer immediately diverts his attentions to her bared breasts, and a sound escapes Chloe's lips. She rakes her fingers through his hair, then slides them underneath his suit jacket. She leans in to kiss his neck, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt, only to be met with the buttons of his waistcoat. "You're wearing too many clothes," she objects breathlessly against his collar.

Lucifer pulls her face back up to his. "I am, aren't I?" he agrees against her lips. Then he's coming to his feet, bringing her with him and eliciting a surprised sound from her as he tosses her backward onto the bed. He shrugs out of his jacket, and Chloe comes to her knees on the bed, helping him out of his waistcoat and shirt before she pushes him backward slowly until he's lying on his back.

Chloe straddles his thighs, her hands sliding over the hard and muscular hills and planes of his naked torso, her lips following the path of her hands, and it's in moments like this that Chloe remembers how truly touched-starved Lucifer is; the way he stares up at her, as if her attentions to him are something miraculous, pulls at Chloe's heart like nothing else.

She makes quick work of unzipping him and taking him in hand, drinking in the sound of his groans of approval as she strokes him. She marvels at the size of him as he continues to swell further in her hands. He truly is magnificent. She lifts herself over him after removing her last article of clothing. One of the few disadvantages of his size is she has to well prepare herself and go slow at first, but after that…God, it's beyond incredible, the way he can stretch and fill her like no other. She rubs the tip of him over her, watching how he enjoys seeing her use him to pleasure herself, watching how he enjoys hearing her moan when she slides herself down onto him. He's so huge she can't seat herself down on him fully, but she pushes closer with each movement of her hips, feeling the stretch, taking in his own sounds of pleasure at her attempts to take more of him, gasping at how he fills her, wide and deep. His hands slide up over her, and there's something in his eyes that catches at Chloe's heart, even more so when he seeks out further contact, murmuring a soft but hungry "come here" and drawing her down on top of him so that she's pressed fully into him, her breasts flat against his chest, his arms tight around her as he meets the movement of her hips with his own. When he spills into her she feels his entire body shudder beneath her, and Chloe comes down from her own climax panting heavily. Her hair fans out around his face as she kisses him softly, once, twice, three times. Then she rests her cheek against his chest, still lying there on top of him, his arms locking her to him.

Come morning, Lucifer is gone again.