[he leans back easily, accepting Lucifer's weight over him and baring his throat. He always runs fever-hot - now he's sweltering. And harder than hell, too, which he hopes you plan to do something about, Lucifer.
His hands scratch up and down the devil's back. He hisses between his teeth.] You don't say.
no subject
His hands scratch up and down the devil's back. He hisses between his teeth.] You don't say.