Lucifer was slightly taken aback and asked Chloe to repeat her question.
"Would you let me touch your wings," she asked again.
"I...I...what?"
Lucifer was not sure why he suddenly felt a little dizzy and ill-equipped to use actual words.
Chloe stood naked before him, silently waiting. Her eyes peered up at him innocently, as though she did not ask what she had just asked.
"Why," he managed to finally spit out.
The corners of her mouth lifted into an amused smile. "You have wings, Lucifer. They're a part of you. I've seen them. I've just never touched them."
She made it all sound so logical.
And yes, she had seen them, for just a brief moment.
"Are you.. sure?" He spoke slowly, nervously.
"I am," she assured him. "I just-I want to know all of you. If that's ok."
"Yes...yes..." He stammered. "Of course it is."
"Or are there rules? Are they not supposed to be touched? I don't really know how that works."
"No, not at all,"he said hurriedly, finally able to string together a few words. "No rules. It's perfectly all right."
"Good." Chloe answered casually, as though they were not talking about his wings.
She stepped closer and let her eyes travel down his body and up again. His clothes, too, were still in a pile on the floor from the night before. But he suddenly felt far more naked than just not having his clothes on.
"It won't seem strange to you? You won't mind?" he asked hesitantly.
Chloe shook her head that she wouldn't and took another step closer.
Lucifer closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He could feel the heat of her body being so close to his. The faint feminine scent of her- early morning and lavender soap - tickled under his nose.
He exhaled a long and shuddering breath as his shoulders relaxed and the tension gradually left them.
With eyes still closed, he felt her familiar touch on his body. All of his senses instantly tingled with awareness. One of her hands rested lightly on his chest while the other was at his waist.
His eyes half opened and were swimming with want and desire, as her fingertips began to glide easily over his skin. Her head was down. Her gaze focused inward as one hand slipped its way from his chest, around to his back, and stopped just at his shoulder blades.
"Chloe," he grumbled huskily, part uncertainty, part longing.
When she raised her head, her expression was of love and acceptance.
The muscles in his back tensed again as her fingers traced and explored a path along the area that his terrible scars had once been.
Lucifer drew a sharper breath and closed his eyes again.
"Did I hurt you," she asked.
He shook his head 'no.'
After a long, tentative pause, with a small movement of his shoulders, Lucifer unfurled his large, white wings and released the tense breath he did not realize he was holding.
Despite their large size, his wings appeared strangely diminished. They were tucked awkwardly back and clenched tightly behind him. His eyes were still shut, his muscles taut.
"Lucifer?"
His eyes slowly opened.
Chloe closed what little space there was left between them and nestled herself fully against him.
"Please don't hide them from me," she gently requested.
Holding him, she waited.
Lucifer's chin dropped in quiet surrender to her. His shoulders lowered, and his arms wrapped lovingly around her.
Slowly, his wings began to fall open to their natural width and drape to the floor.
"Wow," Chloe gasped, with her head still rested on Lucifer's chest, observing their graceful unfolding.
The genuine reverence in Chloe's voice gave Lucifer more confidence to bring his wings forward, to invite his lover's touch. The tips of their feathers spread like fingers.
"I had forgotten how beautiful they are," she told him.
The nervous laugh he gave in response was humble but disbelieving.
"I've used other words for them," he said.
"I wouldn't," she answered matter-of-factly.
Any retort that he might have had was cut short by an almost tortured hum of pleasure as he felt one of her hands slide from his back then up and under the feathers at the base of his left wing.
"Are you all right? I am hurting you, aren't I? I'm so sorry," she said, as she pulled back and frowned with concern.
"Mmm," He breathed harshly, trying to focus. "You're not hurting me. It's not that. Underneath- it's- it's very sensitive."
"Oh."
She leaned in close again and slid both arms around him. The next sound he made was a soft groan as a small tremor shook through his wings, while both of her hands moved lighter and more deftly with them.
"Is that better?" She blinked up at him with a demure but knowing expression.
It was a purely instinctual and animalistic reflex when his hold tightened around her body and pressed her bare skin to him. One hand entangled itself into her long locks of blonde hair. She tilted her face more closely to his.
If there was simple want and desire looking back at her before, there was something almost feral there now.
"Chloe," he exhaled shakily, this time with unabashed and aching need.
"Lucifer."
The tantalizing lilt of his name on her tongue, the warmth of her hands still intimately under the feathers of his wings, sensations he has never known- it all reached an area of his brain that was unfamiliar.
It was not just that he wanted her body. He wanted all of her.To be inside her in every way imaginable. To know every taste. Every sigh. Every scent. Every touch. Every desire. Every thought. And any man on any plain of existence that might entertain the same? He would escort them straight to Hell.
"You have no idea what you've done to me," he confessed, very seriously. His nose brushed hers and their lips nearly touched.
Chloe's hands were still into the depths of his wing feathers as she tugged him closer and swept her lips over his, until they parted for her.
She gripped him tighter and tasted him. His lips, his tongue, the heat of his breath.
Does Chloe feel the same for him, he wondered. Could she? The intrusive thought crept in. There may always be a broken piece of himself, he worried. Thoughts that drifted to dark and self-loathing places. But he put those away.
Right now was the taste of morning coffee on her lips. Her long, mussed hair splayed over his chest. Her featherlight weight cradled in his arms as he lifted her and took her to their bed.
Right now.
.
.
