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Tonight is the long awaited Grimte Banquet where all the noble houses gather. Relationships are maintained, new ones started, and it’s all Lucifer can do to keep his brothers in line. Luckily, he has you to keep Mammon by your side and Beel full of food.
The night drones on spent managing many noble advances. He spares you a weary glance and you wink at him from across the hall. He can’t help the quirk of his mouth, a slight smile amidst everything. You’re impossibly charming.
A few moments later and he hears your voice in his ear. “Meet me in the coat room, I have something to show you.”
You slip away and disappear somewhere in the crowd. Eventually he manages a moment alone, horribly curious as he finds his way to you.
You close the door behind him, nearly hidden amidst coats of all sizes. “Hi gorgeous,” you wrap your arms around his waist.
"A coat closet?" He muses.
“I won’t keep you. Pretty sure Beel is looking for me too… Here.” You hold up your phone, “What do you think?”
You’re showing him a picture of… rope? “This is what you wanted to show me?”
“I could hardly send it to your phone right now, what with the entire royal court surrounding you. Plus, I’d rather explain its implications in person.”
“Implications?”
“Mm. Are you free next Friday night? Around 10pm?”
“I…” he allows himself a small smile, “I might be able to spare you some time.”
“Oh might you?” You smirk, “Well, if you’re too busy I completely understand. I’m capable of appreciating my own hard work.”
He acts affronted, grabbing you by the waist and kissing your hand. “Would a willing participant not please you more?”
“Isn’t that why I asked you in the first place?” He’s captivated by the crinkle of your nose, by the warmth of your smile.
“You’ve caught me,” he chuckles, “I’m all yours.”
“Then it’s a date. Do you like the color?”
You show him your phone again and he hums appreciatively. "Did you get it from Cloven Boutique? I didn’t think they stocked colored rope."
“They don’t, I dyed it myself."
“Truly?” He looks closer, in want of his glasses. “It looks like a professional job."
"Well, I had to get the color just right - I love the look of you in blue."
"Oh?" His tone softens.
“Mhm…” You appreciatively sweep your eyes up his body, lingering the gold peacock tie-clip you got him last month. You reach out and adjust his collar, “I love seeing you in things I’ve bought.”
“You have good taste.”
“Do you really think so?”
He frowns. “I wouldn’t wear something if it didn’t suit me.”
You laugh, “I know, I just wanted to hear you say it.”
“You’re horrible.”
“I’m charming.”
He fondly rolls his eyes. “I suppose both descriptors are accurate. I will look forward to it all week.”
“I think it’ll be worth the wait.” You lean up and brush your lips against his, “Don’t dance with too many nobles now.”
“Haven’t you noticed? All eyes are on you tonight. It’s taken everything in me not to whisk you away.”
“Likewise, darling.” You wink at him again and his heart certainly doesn’t flutter.
-
Lucifer knocks on your closed door, waiting for you to beckon him inside.
The first thing he notices is an old mahogany chair in the middle of your room, stolen from the hallway. It sits odd against your comfortable furniture.
You make a show of locking your door, brushing against his shoulder as you pass by. Then you cast a noise canceling spell - nothing but an emergency could disturb you now.
When you meet his eyes you're delighted by his wanting expression, unguarded and open in his desire. "I wonder…" you walk over to him, "how much you've thought about this night, curious about what I've planned?" You straighten his tie, close enough to see him swallow.
"It has been on my mind." He takes your hand in his own and kisses your knuckles, looking every part adoring.
You chuckle fondly, "Especially in the evenings, when you think of me?"
His cheeks heat up but his gaze is steady. “I won’t deny it."
“Honesty suits you." He goes in for a kiss just as you pull away. "I want to show you something."
He makes a curious sound and you leave him to open your dresser drawer. "Now, you knew I'd be using rope tonight, but for what exactly I didn't tell you." You gather the rope in your arms, "It might not seem like much of a deviation."
"Oh?" He eyes the rope you've picked.
"You still like it?"
He turns the rope over in his hands, "It’s richer than I remember. How did you do it?"
"Blue mangled beetles - kind of like carmine, but the process is simpler. When dried and crushed they make a beautiful dark navy dye that doesn’t bleed."
"You did your research."
You chuckle and take the rope from his hands. "Only the best for you. Gloves off."
He slips off his right leather glove, finger by finger - wait. “Blue?” You look at him inquisitively. His nails are a rich navy blue, perfectly manicured and glossy.
His eyes flicker behind you, cheeks dusting pink. “I painted them a few days ago.”
You're confused for a minute, then it hits you. “Wait - because of me?”
His voice drops, “You - you mentioned-" He clears his throat, "I thought you might like them.”
"I love them, Lucifer…" You kiss his knuckles, his palm, his wrist, before pulling him in for a proper kiss. His hand cups your jaw and he makes a small, plaintive sound. He really had been thinking about your words all this time.
You pull away with reluctance. "It's time I tell you what we’ll be doing tonight. Shall we start the scene?"
He clears his throat again and sweeps his own magic over your door. "Let us begin."
"Any titles are allowed tonight, you can address me however you’d like. Red to stop the act, yellow to pause, and green for all good. Fire if you want to stop the scene entirely."
"Understood.”
“Then…" the glint in your eyes makes him a little weak in the knees. "I know you have a penchant for ropework. And I know how much you enjoy earning my praise. So, I had a thought - tonight I’d like you to use your ropework skills and tie me up, but I want full range of motion, you know, a design strictly for aesthetics.” You pull the rope taught in your hands, “And then, if you do a good enough job, I may reward you with some rope of my own. What do you say?” You hold out the rope to him.
“What an intriguing idea...” He takes the rope from your hands with soft reverence, feeling the rough texture between his fingers. “You really got such a nice shine to it,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. He breathes out slowly and gestures to the mahogany chair, “Please dear, relax.”
You smile and oblige, settling into the cold wooden seat. He eyes you and then the rope, contemplative, before loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves. He circles you, and you admire the focused, pointed look on his face as he carefully plans an intricate design in his mind’s eye. He’s completely in his element and you love to watch him work.
“Ah,’ you suddenly realize, “This might help.” You lift up your shirt and drop it next to the chair before shimmying out of your bottoms, leaving you bare before him.
“Yes…” he murmurs as his eyes roam your skin.
You feel a pleasant tingle up your spine when he brushes his fingers through your hair, gently gathering until he can put it up properly above your neckline. Your body relaxes under his touch.
The first knot is an anchor tie just below your bust, he uses four strands and divides them into two, slipping each half over your shoulders and back down to meet your back. The rough texture warms you from the outside in but his careful touch is cool against your skin.
You watch him as he works, loving the interplay of shadow that falls across his sharp features. He catches you staring.
“Am I pleasing to look at, Madam?”
“Yes, very much so.”
Your pact mark sings and you chuckle, bemused at the sensation. “You like it when I compliment you, don’t you, my little black bird?”
His cheeks heat up and his eyebrows furrow, as he’s put off by the pet name, but the humming in your chest only continues. “I can feel it, you know? Honesty really does suit you best - your face is much prettier wearing it.”
The tips of his ears turn pink but he circles you, wrapping his arms around your midsection to finish fixing a knot in place. Suddenly his warm lips press into the crook of your shoulder. The deep undertones of his voice make you shiver as he whispers in your ear. “You will be the death of me.”
You turn to meet his eyes, coy mischief in your own. “I think you’ll survive.” He chuckles and you kiss him once, twice, just to make him simmer. He almost goes back in for a third but you brush your thumb over his bottom lip. “Not yet.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” He kisses your shoulder once more.
Time passes in a lovely, hazy sort of way. Lucifer relaxes into the process as you'd hoped he would. It’s a gentle sort of focus where his mind is set on something, a place where nothing else can bother him or tear away his careful attention. He loves taking your direction, easing him out of his mind, constantly wound too tight.
Finally he kneels to finish the job, gingerly maneuvering one of your legs up and over his shoulder to wrap a strand around the back of your thigh. His eyes wander this time, following the line of your body until he lingers between your legs. As if he can’t help himself he kisses your skin, leaving a delicate trail up the inside of your thigh.
You cup his jaw in one hand and he kisses your palm, eyeing between your legs. “After you finish,” you murmur, “You’ll have to earn what you get tonight.” His eyes flicker to yours and he continues moving, finishing the tie he started.
“I believe I’m finished, will you stand?”
You do so, feeling the bend and flex of rope. Nothing feels too tight, everything is snug, hugging the curves of your body. You admire what lacing you can see, particularly the delicate design around your hands and wrists. He truly had taken his time, a glance at the clock proves that an hour has passed.
Finally you turn around and examine his work in the mirror. Your eyes light up at his intricate ropework. You’re beautiful, elegant, fully mobile and yet covered in faux restraints. You admire yourself, making a show of your appreciation. His chest puffs out and the pact mark on your chest rumbles. You gently circle your clit with one finger and enjoy how he shifts uncomfortably behind you.
You want more from him. Your body aches from an hour of foreplay.
You cup his jaw with one hand. “Kneel.”
“Yes Sir,” he murmurs, almost breathless.
His willing, almost eager demonstration of your power over him, of his own lack of control, further spurns you on, and you know he can hold your weight.
"Show me, then, devotion to your work." You prop one leg up on the hard mahogany seat, exposing yourself for him. Rope hugs your thighs, indenting and highlighting what he wants most.
His eyes flicker between your face and your clit. He licks his lips. "Thank you, Sir."
You run a hand through his hair and brace the other on the back of the chair. As soon as his tongue touches your clit you gasp, unable to help yourself. You’ve been on edge for so long now, throbbing at every new rope and delicate detail. You savor his mouth, rocking your hips into his face gently. "Yes…" he sucks and licks as you drip onto his tongue and he moans softly at the gentle tug of your hand in his hair.
You'll come quickly and you know it - you rock against him faster now and he wraps his fingers through the ropes on the back of your thigh before squeezing your ass and petting between your legs.
You look down at him, at his disheveled appearance, tousled hair, and too-tight pants. “Lucifer, darling, you - ah - you don’t have to say anything, no thoughts, no control, just take what I give you."
He groans and claws at the backs of your thighs, pulling you forward against his mouth.
You tilt your head back. "Good man, good job-" he whines and flicks his tongue with renewed vigor, "fffuck, right there…"
You fuck his face, shivering and shaking, chasing your orgasm. He holds you upright and supports your body, grasping at his own ropework. You moan and twitch. A glance at the mirror brings you closer still, “Look baby, look at you, making me feel so fucking good… shit-” Your grip on his hair tightens as you twist your hand, pulling him forward. He moans, high and breathy, harshly breathing through his nose.
His right hand supports your waist while his left squeezes your ass. Just a minute more, a second more, finally, finally his palpable desire sends you over the edge, and god how it fills the air. He takes it all and you don't fall, even as your legs lock and your grip falters. You shake and shiver in his tight grasp, palms holding tight to his shoulders. He keeps licking, just enough to keep you there until tension dissipates and you’re overstimulated. Only then does his grip loosen, following your body as you stand on your own, knees shaking.
There's an unspoken tenderness in his eyes - your baby takes pride in service.
You step away from him when you can, fixing his hair and cleaning your cum from his lips. "Sit on the chair, darling."
His knees crack when he gets up, stiff from his place on the hardwood floor. He sits, bulge straining against his trousers, watching you with rapt attention.
"I think…" you turn around, "You've more than earned your reward - as if there was any doubt in my mind."
“Oh?” He practically glows at your praise.
"And…” you walk over to your nightstand once more, "I'm not done with this yet." He swallows, gaze fixated on the rope in your hands. You smirk, "You like that idea?"
He shifts again. "Yes I - very much."
You reach into your nightstand and pull out a matte black silicone dildo, smaller, elegant even. You hold it up. “What about this? Are you up for it tonight?”
“Yes,” he nods, “I prepared myself for the possibility.”
“Perfect,“ you breathe, already excited. “Then…” your smile is nearly wicked as you regard him and his cock throbs in earnest. “Clothes off. Hands behind your back - hold your forearms.”
He acquiesces, knowing exactly what you want.
Soon he’s sitting naked on the chair, hands held behind his back, willingly at your mercy. Your ties aren’t nearly as elegant, but they restrict his movement and hug his body. You restrain his arms behind his back with a chest harness, carefully distributing the weight of the rope, adding just a touch of flourish. Even in such a simple design he looks lovely. Blue really is his color, you think, admiring him. He catches your eye.
“I was right,” you say, tilting his chin up for a chaste peck on the lips, “You look lovely in blue.” He groans and chases your lips this time. You let him, just once, and deepen the kiss yourself, before grabbing him by the hair, wrenching his head up. “Not yet, darling.”
“As you wish.” He’s breathless and kiss bitten.
You leave him and stack two large pillows on top of each other. You motion for him to stand before grabbing him by the restraints. “I will help you get into position,” you chuckle darkly, “I want you face down.”
His cheeks feel hot but he nods, “Yes Sir.”
“Good man. Lie down.”
It takes a moment since he can’t move his arms but you finally have him exactly where you want him, chest pushed into the bed, hips and ass raised by the pillows beneath him.
He tilts his head to look at you with one eye, eyebrow raised as you appear with more rope.
‘Can’t have you squirming too much, now can I?” He groans into the pillow beneath him and nods.
“Tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable or need to readjust, this position might get tiring after awhile.”
“I’m sure I can take it.”
“I’m sure you can, but I’m not asking. Tell me.”
He shivers. “Yes Ma’am.”
“Good.”
You uncap the lube on your nightstand and snap a glove on. He shivers at the cold feeling of your lubed finger rubbing against him, but as your hand warms so does his body and he slowly starts to meet your gentle thrusts as you enter him. You love this part. It’s incredibly intimate, almost more so that the ensuing sex, because anyone else would have been thrown out long ago - he has only ever done this with you.
Once you’re up to two fingers comfortably you withdraw your hand and replace it with your lubed up strap. “Ready?”
“I’ve been ready.” You smack his ass and he gasps.
“What was that?”
“I apologize, yes I - I’m ready.”
“That’s better. One more remark like that,” you murmur, pressing in slowly, “And I’ll rethink your reward.”
He hisses, wiggling his hips, “A-Apologies - it won’t happen again.”
‘I know it won’t,” you smile, “because you love this too much.” Finally, finally you move your hips, slow at first, until finding a gentle rhythm. You use his bound legs as leverage, pushing deep inside of him as his low, desperate moans fill the air.
As his body strains against the rope it holds tight, digging into his skin - this heat, this pleasure, your power over him is dizzying. For a few blissful moments he can’t think, all he can do is feel you surround him and hear your haunting voice in his ear.
It is easy to admire him, Lucifer Morningstar splayed out before you, rocking his ass into your hips, wanting more, more. You grab the rope holding his forearms tight against his back and pull, arching his back against the sheets. He cries out, and you lean down, pushing all your weight on top of him.
“That feel good, baby? Heh, you love it don’t you?” Your hips are slow and deep, grinding on his favorite spot, “You love being fucked like this. Wrapped in my rope, under my hand-” He moans, long and debauched. “I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this, you belong to me, don’t you?”
“Yes-!”
You’re breathless above him. “We belong to each other, right, love?”
His eyes open and he gazes at you in the adjacent mirror, “Yes…” You dip and kiss the back of his neck, soft and sweet, "Hnn…" he takes in a shuddering breath and lets his head fall forward.
“That's right, no one else deserves to touch you, no one else is good enough, worthy enough.” You whisper in his ear.
He gasps your name and pushes his ass against your hips, pathetically fucking himself on your strap. Every slap of your skin sears welts into his body. You grab his hair and jerk his body up.
“Eyes open, look at yourself.” He didn’t think he could get any redder, but the sight of you behind him, fucking his ass with slow purposeful thrusts, restraining him while tied in his own ropework, it's too much, he can’t - he’ll -
You wrench his head up, “Keep looking,” you pant, “look at the face you make when you come for me.”
He can’t help it, he comes fast and hot, hips stuttering, mouth open and gasping. You slow but you don’t stop. He whimpers but dutifully stays, taking it all.
“Good man,” you praise him, “So. Fucking. Good-” you punctuate your words by digging your nails into his back. You slowly drag them downward and tiny specks of blood bubble to the surface. He hisses but his cock jumps beneath him. “You like a little pain, don’t you?” You slap his ass with an open palm. “Answer me.”
“Yes, yes Ma’am -”
“Yes what?”
"Fuck - more, please-!”
“Filthy.” You bite, before indulging him with another slap on the ass.
You run your nails gently over the welts and he sighs in bliss. In this moment of calm you use all your strength to hoist him upward again, until his back is flush against your chest. You wrap a hand around his throat and start to bounce him on your cock. His eyes roll back and he groans, reaching around to grab your hip as he rocks back into you.
“When I cut you loose,” you pant, “I want you to lie down on your back, legs spread, waiting and ready for me again. Do you understand me?”
He swallows breathlessly and nods.
You lean him forward and gently pull out. You untie his legs, and then his arms before dropping the rope next to the bed. His body is tinged red with slight rope burn, just how he likes.
He rolls over onto his back, finally making eye contact with you. You smile at him, gentle, and his pupils pin. “Spread your legs for me.”
Lucifer grabs his own knees, and spreads his legs while you refuse to let him lose eye contact. His red flush is delicious, and so is his twitching cock, clearly enjoying this.
You grab more lube from the nightstand and quickly reapply before holding one of his legs to your chest and slipping back inside. He groans and rocks his hips forward, savoring the feeling.
You slowly snap your hips forward, reaching deep inside him, you keep repositioning until he gasps and then you hold there. Little thrusts of your hips grinding against his ass. He gasps low, moaning sweetly in his deep voice as sweat trickles down his temple.
“Kiss me-” he croaks, reaching for you. You melt into him and grind against him as his hands roam your body. He doesn’t realize he’s whimpering and shuddering, or if he does he doesn’t care.
You continue like this for a while, enjoying his gasping deep moans in your ear, his lips and teeth on your neck. Finally, at your mercy, you gently trace your fingers over the head of his cock. The noise he makes is agonizing, and you have half a mind to continue neglecting him. But he has your heart as you keep up that gentle, light contact, and he doesn’t ask for more. His head is spinning, filled with thoughts of you, you, just you.
You speed up your hand as your hips get tired and he grips your back, rocking into you. Finally you feel him tense, feel his blunt nails dig into your back.
“There you go, my pretty bird,”
He gasps, light and beautiful, shuddering as he comes, keening as each slow, deep thrust of your hips milks another dribble of cum out of him.
You kiss again and again, covered in sweat, cum, and specks of blood, ignoring the passage of time.
-
Darkness blankets your bedroom, barely lit in deep navy shadow. Your fingernails fall up and down rhythmically over the rope burn on Lucifer’s back.
“I heard you were approached last week.” He murmurs.
“At the Banquet…? Oh, did Asmo say something?”
Lucifer chuckles, "He said something akin to "Everyone here is itching for their chance, don't let them out of your sight."
You feign exasperation. "And what did you do, you let me out of your sight. Now I'm in bed with a demon."
Lucifer snorts, "The very same demon you propositioned in a coat closet."
"What can I say? I know who I want," you kiss his temple.
Lucifer leans into you further, draped across your body. "Don't you have plans early tomorrow morning?"
“You yawn again, “Solomon said he has something important to talk to me about. What exactly, I’m not sure… he can wait until I've had breakfast.”
“That sorcerer…”
“He wants you so bad,” you chuckle, “I mean, it isn’t up to me, but I enjoy acting as if it is.”
“Rest assured,” he kisses your shoulder, “he’ll never have me, not like you do.”
Your smile is gentle. “I love you, Luci.”
“And I you.”
Lucifer closes his eyes and relaxes his sore body, satisfied and calm. He resolves to make you breakfast in the morning before seeing you off to Solomon.
Truly, he thinks, there's nothing he can’t face as long as you’re there when he wakes.