betterthanaplan | The Cape Rouge "day spa", Sunday

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The Cape Rouge "day spa", Sunday

It had taken some doing, but Duke had managed to get his hands on some outrageously expensive skincare products to lavish on Lucifer during his "spa" pampering, and he'd done his best to prep both the pillow room and the sauna on board the Rouge to match. He'd picked up some lotus silk pillow cases, and 700 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets for the massage table (so he wouldn't slide off when things got hot and sweaty).

All of it in silver, champagne, white with occasional pops of jewel tones, to match the color scheme of the white caviar pearl infused cremes and lotions.

Duke really hoped Lucifer liked it. He was only just realizing as he looked at it checking for any final touches needed that it might be a little too 'Silver City' for full relaxation.

He decided to go get Octavia and Lucifer before he could go full neurotic on that question.

[For the partners! And likely slow play somehow even with all three of us in the same timezone for once!]

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They really were just stupidly beautiful, weren't they? Lucifer fell quiet with the sense of it all, forgetting to egg them on or anything of the like.

Octavia dragged her hands through Duke's hair as she was lifting her arms. Shivered a little.

Yes, touching was nice.

Duke would notice the lack of egging . . . eventually.

Right now he was a bit preoccupied with the hands in his hair. And that shiver.

He leaned in to get a quick taste of her collarbone. Just because.

Oh, hello. Lucifer made a soft noise without realizing it.

A quickie in the pillow room was certainly starting to look like an attractive prospect.

Octavia gave a tiny chuckle. It sounded a little breathless, all of a sudden. Funny, that.

She just got her fingers more tangled in Duke's hair. It clearly worked, so why not also go for a fairly gentle tug? Just something to say, 'hey, I've got you'.

Oh, she knew how much he liked that. And even if she didn't, the noise that came from the back of Duke's throat was sure to let both her and Lucifer know.

He gave her collarbone a little bite as well, then pulled back to make sure he got her shirt fully off and aside. Then turn his attention to her bra and get more access to her chest.

Lucifer-- ran an idle hand over his own chest. Still silent. Still watching.

Perhaps a little visibly engaged.

It was one of the fancier and classier of Octavia's bras, as this was something they were doing for Lucifer and, well, she liked to look the part for that sometimes. But it also had a very standard clasp, so it offered no challenge.

She threw Lucifer a sly little smirk before getting one hand right back in Duke's hair. The other hand dragged a few nails down his shoulder.

Duke gasped, flicking his head back before diving in to catch her revealed breast with his lips.

He’d get to her pants in a minute.

Well.

Don't mind if Lucifer's hand slipped a bit lower.

The pants were fine to wait. And so was Lucifer, apparently.

Which was good, because Octavia made a happy noise at Duke's mouth on such sensitive skin. Murmured something encouraging in raspy Trig, too, dragging her hand down along his arm.

Which Duke took as direction to slip to his knees, easy as he had earlier with Lucifer.

Made it all the easier to lavish attention on her full breast, too and bottom, without having to put too much strain on his back.

Oh, well, that drew another noise from Lucifer. (Admittedly his own efforts helped.) "He is so desperately pretty on his knees."

He was. Although with all her various complexities around something that the sight of Duke on his knees in front of her was brushing against, Octavia was feeling... a mess of things.

Her breath caught in her throat on a tiny gasp, and it had little to do with Duke's admittedly still very nice use of his mouth.

Duke wasn’t thinking about any of that. He was thinking about how nice her skin tasted, and how this gave him such a good angle to lick and nip his way along her ribs as he took care of her pants.

Lucifer dropped his hand back to the massage table, just to make sure he didn't... get too far ahead of himself. He tilted his head, mouth an interested curve.

(He did wish he'd thought of grabbing a drink at some point, but oh well.)

The mimosas were sitting untouched just a few terribly distant feet away.

Octavia got her breath back, although the new (good) tensions in her body weren't going anywhere. She helped Duke with the pants, helped push them down past the swell of her hips.

Duke showed his appreciation for that by diving in to give her a hickey on one of said hips. Specifically on the point where her pelvic bone was most prominent beneath her soft skin.

Even as his fingers scraped bluntly down her legs to leave her pants in a pool on the floor.

Lucifer was already beginning to regret that he stopped touching himself, yes.

Though at least that thought startled him enough that he managed to grope until he got his hands on one of those mimosas.

"Ngh."

Oh, never mind about Octavia's renewed ability for breathing normally. The noise she made was a whimper of the best kind.

And, hey. After a little stutter in their movement, her hands found their way back into Duke's hair. She could tug and still leave him free to do exactly what he wanted.

Because it was all working.

Duke pulled away just enough to grin up at her through his lashes, then blew on the mark he’d left on her skin.

And settled one hand gently in the dip at the base of her spine to support her while he guided her feet one at a time free from the bundle of clothes on the floor.

And Lucifer let out a long sigh.

Or a longing sigh.

Both, really.

He sipped his mimosa.

Octavia shivered. Marks on her body were a thing, and one she was very rarely against indulging in. (As Duke was likely to know, even outside of what they got up to together. Sunday date night bruises - whether from bites or hickeys or impact play - stuck around for a while sometimes.) She let Duke maneuver her, grateful for the support.

She glanced, briefly, at Lucifer. "Bored?"

That had not been a bored sigh, and her smirk said she knew it.

Duke rested his temple against her as he tilted his head to look at Lucifer as well, the tip his tongue caught between his teeth as he smiled.

He did not think Lucifer was at all bored, no.

Considering Lucifer was naked, and had been rather, ah, preoccupied, his lack of boredom was very clearly on show.

He took another sip of his mimosa.

"If I'm ever bored by this sight," he said, "I'm likely to be utterly and irrevocably dead, loves."

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