Enough

Last Day of Week 7 (A Lucifer Hell Week)

~o~

Chloe's body is restless and throbbing when Lucifer comes bursting into her hospital room in a whirlwind of chaos; the uni posted at her door, a hospital staff member, all promptly held at bay by Carol Corbett's quick intervention as he shepherds them back out into the hallway to allow Lucifer's unseemly passage.

Chloe's already reaching for him, her small fingers latching onto his jacket sleeves, to his nearness, as his hands move to frame her face, his eyes taking in the state of it; populated with several bruises, cuts, and scrapes. Chloe's hands slide up over his shoulders drawing him closer as he leans over her, face near hers, her name on his lips, breathless and panicked. She strokes the back of his neck, assuring him she's okay, that everything's okay. His fingers skim over her, over cuts and bruises, gentle and warm, and Chloe revels in his touch. A week since she last saw him. A day and a half since the sting operation gone wrong. An overnight stay in hospital. A day and a half anticipating Lucifer's reaction upon his return.

Chloe's fingers slide into the thick locks of his hair as she tugs him toward her to press her lips to his in a fierce kiss. His lips are warm and soft, even against the burn she feels from her split and swollen lower lip.

Lucifer draws back after a moment as if sensing this complication. His thumb strokes over her cheek, and Chloe knows exactly what he's thinking, what he's going to say, because of course they knew this arrangement wouldn't always be easy.

"Chloe, I'm so sor—" Lucifer starts.

"No," Chloe orders, her hand catching his. "Don't," she rasps. "You're here now." She lifts her hands to his face, taking in the familiar feel of his neatly trimmed stubble beneath her fingertips.

He shakes his head slightly but gives in beneath her touch, leaning in to kiss her gingerly.

Chloe's signed for release from hospital several hours later.

After dressing carefully, Chloe turns, her arms slipping around Lucifer's waist as she presses herself into him.

His arms come up around her, his chest cradling her head, his body dwarfing hers as he wraps her into him, radiating warmth and strength and gentleness, and Chloe closes her eyes, silently absorbing the irresistible combination.

"You okay?" he asks softly.

Chloe nods.

"Lucifer."

"Hm?"

Chloe lets out a frustrated sound as she leans back against the pillows, watching him wearily from the bed while he stands across the room—shirtless—with his phone in hand, thumb flying across the keys, distracted in his pursuit to bombard Carol, or her boss, or anyone else who will provide him the names and details that Chloe refused to—on the perpetrators of her case.

"You know this is a form of torture?" Chloe tries again. "You standing half-naked in my bedroom too far away for me to touch you?"

"Hang on I'm—" Lucifer breaks off when her words register, his eyes finally lifting to zero-in on her. "Sorry, could you repeat that?"

"I said I'd like you to come over here where I can reach you because I'm far too sore right now to move."

Lucifer's brow raises. "Does that mean sex is off the table? Because if so I'd rather stay here and torture you."

"Guess you'll have to come over here and find out."

In a flash, Lucifer is upon her, all hard and deliciously rippling naked torso, a startled squeak escaping her, followed by a wince caused by her own jerked movement of surprise—because he kept his weight off her, of course, holding himself above her with those bulging arms of his.

"Sorry," Lucifer mumbles, lifting his face from her neck to press a kiss to her lips.

"It's fine," Chloe says, opening her lips over his with more urgency, her fingers lifting to scrap over his cheek and jaw, drawing a sound from his throat as he responds to her passion with his own. When his lips close over hers, the rush of heat into her is instantaneous. Her hands slide down to touch his chest hungrily, over hard rounds and ridges of muscle. She forgets herself in the heat of his kisses, pushing herself up into him too quickly, then hissing at the resulting flare of pain in her ribs.

Lucifer tears his lips away from hers. "I guess that answers that question," he says, his eyes flicking down the length of her.

Chloe makes a sound of protest, her hands going to the back of his neck as she tugs him back to kiss her. He obliges, but then stops, his lips against hers as he points out in a murmur, "I'll hurt you."

"So?" Chloe mumbles.

Lucifer draws back. "Despite what you might think of me, I'm not going to be able to enjoy this if I'm hurting you, or worrying about hurting you."

Chloe concedes with a sigh and sinks back into the pillows.

His hand lifts to her cheek. "Just look at you," he mutters, "your face…"

Chloe wraps her fingers around his wrist. "I'm okay," she assures him.

His head shakes slowly. "You're not…you're…" He trails off, his frustration evident.

Chloe's fingers touch the back of his hand. "It's okay," she tells him softly.

His brows pull together. "It's not…I don't like…not being here to protect you."

"I know."

He rolls off her carefully.

"Lucifer," Chloe says quietly, "we knew this wouldn't always be easy." When he says nothing, Chloe scoots closer to him, her cheek against his arm, her hand lifting to touch his chest, feeling the beat of his heart beneath her palm. "You're here now," she repeats. She strokes him lightly. "It's enough, Lucifer. It's more than enough."

After several beats Lucifer's fingers are ghosting over the cut above her brow; then he's leaning in to press his lips against it with the lightest of pressure. The soft kiss is followed by several more—beneath her eye, along her cheekbone.

Chloe closes her eyes. She's long borne witness to the simple fact that behind Lucifer's roughened exterior was a carefully stowed away abundance of compassion and tenderness, but getting to experience it in all its entirety now that they're finally together is beyond lovely. For someone so unaccustomed to receiving affection he's awfully good at gifting it. Chloe's never been with anyone so quietly affectionate. During his Earth Weeks while they're at the precinct he'll take her hand in his, or caress the back of her neck, entirely unconcerned that someone might observe. Chloe's heart never fails to react.

Chloe releases a small sigh, her fingers seeking to touch, finding warm, naked flesh, and her insides immediately stir. His chaste kisses quickly turn into something else when Chloe turns her head to catch his lips with her own. His immediate responsiveness is followed by a disgruntled reminder. "Chloe," he warns, an edge of frustration.

Chloe touches his face with both hands. "Please," she mutters against his lips. His big hand is resting at her neck, and her fingers slide over his, trying to guide his hand where she wants it, to where she needs it. She wants to feel him touch her, kiss her; she didn't realize just how much until this instant.

The incredible thing Chloe's discovered about Lucifer as a lover is that he always puts her own pleasure before his own, so of course he gives in to her request, kissing her slow and deep and expert, until Chloe can't form thought, much less recall there's something she ought to tell him first. Too late, she remembers—right after Lucifer has drawn her nightie over her head and tossed it aside.

He goes still as he looks down at her, his hand hovering inches from her skin. "What….?"

"Oh that…" Chloe swallows and makes a face. "I, um, meant to tell you about that."

Preferably as a passing remark to mitigate his reaction—which she knew wouldn't be good. Hey, by the way, in case you notice the finger-shaped bruises on my breast, one of the bad guys on my case recognized me from Hot Tub High School and managed to grab it and twist—hard—to accompany his lewd remarks—before I could land a blow.

Lucifer's face is growing dark, and Chloe's actual recounting comes out less collected than intended, making her realize that the obvious—while disparaging—power play move affected her more than she was willing to admit to herself at the time.

Lucifer's face flickers dangerously and Chloe has to stroke her fingers over it, assuring him that it's fine, when really all she wants is for him to touch her, to make her forget—she wants to feel his touch. "Who," he demands as she pulls his face back down toward her.

Chloe shakes her head and kisses him. "Please…" she mumbles, a little desperate, "just…" She guides his hand to her breast.

It takes him a few seconds, but then he seems to get it, giving in to what she wants, his thumb circling lightly around the small circular bruising over the swell of her breast, causing her to hum her approval against his lips. He kisses her slowly at first, but there's something primal rising rapidly in them both. There's a possessiveness in his touch, in his kisses, and it drives Chloe wild. She moans his name, his kisses becoming searing as he trails a path of them, hot and open-mouthed, down her neck and over her breast.

When she tries to arch herself up toward him only to grimace again, Lucifer's hand comes down on her hip to pin her. "Stay still," he murmurs. He draws her panties down her legs, tossing them aside, and the look in his eyes is fierce. Chloe is gasping as he trails another path of kisses down her stomach.

She's naked before him; his pants remain; clearly, he intends to take care of her through other means in an attempt to spare jarring her injuries, and while Chloe can certainly attest to his skills in that regard…she wants him. All of him. Injuries be damned.

"No," she protests when his kisses reach their destination. This causes him to shift back upward to look at her, which allows Chloe's fingers to reach for his belt buckle.

Surprisingly, his hand still stops hers. "Chloe…I'll hurt you."

Chloe shakes her head.

Lucifer's breathing is heavy. With a groan he reaches down and unzips, his huge member springing out.

He's kissing her again then, and Chloe feels warmth and love and lust spread and coil and swell. Her hands are moving over his back, his shoulders, his arms, while he moves between her legs, keeping one hand on her hip to prevent her from moving.

He slows his pace, preparing her, and Chloe whimpers as he rubs the thick tip of his shaft back and forth over her. She's soon trying to push unsuccessfully against the weight of his hand keeping her pinned. With agonizing slowness he starts to enter her, a tremor moving through him from the effort of restraint, and Chloe can't take it anymore; she reaches to grab his perfectly round and firm buttocks and pulls him into her with one tug, gasping at the admittedly sharp sensation that follows from the quick and deep penetration; she forgets how huge he is on occasion. The resulting sound of his loud groan more than makes up for it, however, and her own slickness allows her to stretch to accommodate the incredible fullness.

His eyes lock onto hers and there's a raw intensity there that unearths a shock of lust and heat that has her feeling completely untethered. There's frenzied touching and kissing; both hers and his, but…miraculously, Lucifer is still holding back, one hand keeping her pinned, while the rest of him trembles with the exertion it takes to hold himself in check.

With a gasp Chloe tells him to let go, and at her urging he finally does.

God, yes.

Chloe grabs onto his shoulders as he thrusts in and out, and, there is some distant pain to her ribs, but the rest of her is so overcome with the possessive manner in which he takes her, and the explosive affect it has on her, that she barely notices.

His hands move over her, laying further claim and responsiveness from her, until she's giving everything to him. She cries out his name as she spasms around him, and he groans loud and long, the feel of him spilling deep inside her a level of satisfaction she can't put to words.

Lucifer is breathing hard as he pulls out of her. "Chloe," he gasps, his hand hot and gentle against her cheek. "Are you okay?"

Chloe nods.

His fingers fumble over the bruising along her ribs, asking her if it hurts, and admittedly Chloe is starting to feel it more now—in more than just her ribs.

"A bit," she admits. "It's okay."

"I'm s—"

Chloe shakes her head, pulling him back to kiss her.

Lucifer leans down, first dropping a kiss to her lips, and then to the bruised upper portion of her right breast. "Mine," he says, and the single word, low and firm, sends a thrill straight through her.

"Yours," she agrees.