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Officially joining Charlie's hotel has been a bit of a learning curve for Lucifer. He's spent the better part of a decade in (albeit self-imposed) isolation, and being constantly surrounded by others is overwhelming, to say the least. Still, when Charlie asks him to come along on a night out with everyone else, he readily agrees, if only to keep an eye on her. She may be an adult, but she's still his little girl, after all.
Going to a club was Angel and Cherri's idea, and Lucifer isn't really sure why they were allowed to pick. The atmosphere here doesn't seem very “redemption-oriented,” what with how shady so many of the patrons are.
Charlie seems even more anxious about all this than he is somehow, downing drink after drink as if it's going to relax her. She's on maybe her fourth when she turns to speak to some sinner who's been trying to chat her up, oblivious as ever to the fact he's making advances. She's chatting amiably about the hotel, and he's pretending to listen. She isn't paying enough attention to her surroundings otherwise, though, manages to miss the guy taking out a vial of God-knows-what (something pink? Lucifer swears he's seen it somewhere before) and pouring it into her drink the second the bartender slides it over.
Lucifer starts heading over there, inwardly cursing himself for not sitting closer. He isn't fast enough, though, not for the way Charlie chugs her drink the moment it's offered to her, clearly still more nervous than she wants everyone to know. She must notice (albeit far too late) the guy drugged her, if the look she's giving him is any indication.
The sinner rests a hand on Charlie's arm and she quickly brushes it off, stands as if to leave, grabs onto the bar like she can't quite find her balance. Lucifer's there in the next moment, wrapping a steadying arm around her.
“You want me to kill this guy for ya?” Lucifer asks, and though it comes out joking, it's clear in the glare he sends that sinner's way that he's dead serious.
Charlie shakes her head, leaning into him. “No, no. We shouldn't… cause a scene. Can we… get outta here?”
She's talking like she's already having trouble forming sentences, and Lucifer wonders just what it was that guy put in her drink, and how much of it counts as an overdose. Whatever. The most important thing is getting Charlie out of here fast.
He picks her up, cradling her in his arms as he opens a portal. Not to the hotel — God forbid any of the other residents see her like this — but to their estate. No one will be able to bother them there while he figures out what to do. He steps through, the portal closing instantly behind him, and carries her through the manor. Her room isn't really in any condition for her to stay in right now… Really, most of the manor isn't, with how little most of it's been used in the last few years. His room is at least functional, so it'll have to do for now.
He carries her in, and by the time he sets her down on the bed, it feels like she has an unsustainably high fever. One look at her confirms as much, she's flushed a deep red and even sweating a bit.
“Daddy,” Charlie whines, and it breaks his heart hearing her sound so troubled. “I'm so hot, I feel like I'm on fire.”
“I know, sweetie. You look like you have a fever. Want me to take your coat?”
She nods, already pulling it off and handing it to him. He turns away, taking it across the room to hang it on the coat rack by the door. “You can stay here until whatever that guy gave you wears off. I'll take care of— Oh.”
As he turns back to her, Lucifer stops short. In the small amount of time it'd taken him to go hang her coat, Charlie has already managed to remove her shirt and pants as well. She's working on her bra now, even as Lucifer is staring dead at her.
He should look away. He really should look away. That's his daughter stripping naked in front of him, and he's got no good reason to be watching it happen. Yet he can't seem to take his eyes off her. She finally manages to get the clasps of her bra undone — the drug must be affecting her movement more than he realized — and discards it with the rest of her clothes. Then immediately hooks her fingers into the waistband of her panties, and Lucifer does look away now, feeling his own face flushing with heat… and far too much of that same heat pooling much lower down.
“What are you doing?” he asks incredulously, as if he hadn't just been watching her strip.
“Too hot,” she whines in response. “Felt like I was gonna die wearing all that.”
“Right, right,” he says awkwardly, still not looking at her. “Um, can you… cover up with the blanket or something, maybe?”
“Dad, there's no way this is the first time you've seen me naked.”
“Uh-huh, yeah, um, so… This is different! Yeah, um, very different!”
“Dad, I'm sick. You said you're taking care of me, right? Stop being weird about it.”
And in a way, she kind of has a point. He swallows hard, braces himself for what he knows he's going to see, and turns back to her with a slight nod. And he really wishes he could just look at her face like he should. But the way she's lying back against the pillows, legs slightly parted in what's probably an incredibly comfortable position for her…
He shouldn't be staring at his daughter's pussy. And he really shouldn't be thinking about eating it. Or being inside it. Would she be as warm as her feverish skin? It's clear whatever she was slipped was some kind of aphrodisiac, because he can see she's already wet and all he can think about is how good it would probably feel. Hot and tight and wet and—
“Dad?” Charlie calls. She must've said something he didn't catch. Because he was too busy ogling his own daughter like some kind of pervert.
“Sorry, I, uh— Never mind. What'd you say?”
She holds her arms up toward him, like when she was a kid and wanted him to pick her up. “Hold me? Like you used to when I was sick? It always made me feel better…”
He should say no. Any good father would. So maybe he's not a very good father, because he simply sits on the bed and holds his arms out as well. “C'mere, sweetie.”
She gladly climbs into his lap, snuggling against his chest, and there's no way she can't tell he's hard as fucking diamond with how she's straddling him currently. But if she notices, she at least doesn't say anything. He wraps his arms around her, tries to keep every touch appropriate. It's just so hard when she's completely naked and pressed up against him like this and she keeps moving in his lap and—
Oh. That has to be deliberate. The way she's moving her hips right now, practically grinding against him. It's taking everything in him not to move at all, not to reciprocate in any way. But then he hears a little whine and she's grinding against him more insistently, and Lucifer's pretty sure he's going to lose his mind if she keeps this up.
“Daddy,” she whines again, voice breathy and high and far less innocent than last time.
He looks down at her, and that's a big mistake, because she reaches for him then, pulls him down into a kiss. A kiss he definitely shouldn't reciprocate. Yet he does anyway, unable to help himself from moaning into her mouth as she grinds against him more insistently. If it weren't for the fact he's still dressed, she'd be riding him right now. And sick as it is, he wants that more than anything.
He pulls back for a moment, causing Charlie to let out a needy whine. “I think,” he begins breathlessly, “I know what'll help you feel better.”
Part of him is disgusted with himself for even suggesting it. But that part of him is miniscule in comparison to the part of him that just wants to fuck his daughter in every position he can think of. At the very least, she seems more than willing right now. And if it'll help her get over all this, is it really all that bad?
“Anything,” Charlie responds, nodding eagerly.
All it takes is a snap of his fingers, and Lucifer's clothes disappear. He can feel the heat radiating off Charlie's body even more than before now that they're pressed skin to skin. Charlie grinds against him once more, and there's something absolutely heavenly about the way her wet pussy feels rubbing against his hard cock.
He doesn't have to explain himself; the implications are clear. And if he had any doubts about whether or not she's as into this as he is, they all vanish as Charlie raises herself up, guides the head of his cock to her entrance herself, and sinks down onto it as if she doesn't need any preparation at all somehow. Or maybe she just doesn't care about that right now.
Either way, she feels even better than he could've imagined, and Lucifer can't help but buck his hips up into her. He rests his hands on her hips, sets his own pace bucking into her as she rides him. He's pretty sure she has the prettiest moans he's ever heard, especially when he starts trailing love bites over her neck and chest. He really shouldn't be marking her up like this, but he can't seem to help himself. She seems to be enjoying it anyways, so what's the harm?
“Fuck, harder, Dad, please!” she cries out, and he isn't really sure whether she means to bite harder or fuck her harder, but he is sure this position just isn't cutting it anymore.
If he could truly have his way, and definitely if he ever gets to do this again, Lucifer would take his time with her. He'd please her every way he can think of. And if she'd let him eat her out? He'd stay between her legs as long as she'd let him, until she can't even construct a coherent thought anymore.
As is, he's on a mission right now, and his only objective is to make her cum so hard she's ruined for any other men. Well, maybe not his only objective. There's an even more depraved part of him that wants nothing more than to breed her like an animal in heat, but he's pretty sure even in her drugged-up state, she's not gonna let that one slide.
He pushes that thought from his mind and pushes Charlie back into the bed. She whines as his cock slips out of her, reaches for him with this needy look in her eyes that he can't help but find oddly adorable.
“Relax, babygirl. Daddy's gonna take good care of you.”
He repositions himself between her legs, just barely pushing his cock back inside her. She barely has time to even whine about it before he's grabbing her legs and pushing them up to her shoulders, thrusting into her as hard as he can the moment he's got her where he wants her.
Charlie's arms shoot out, fingers curling into the sheets and pulling hard as she throws her head back on a moan. Lucifer sets a brutal pace from there, fucking her hard and deep. He can't get enough of those pretty moans, the way she arches into him, the way she keeps chanting, “Dad, Dad, Dad,” like the only thought in her head is him.
It really shouldn't be turning him on so much to hear that. Yet it's driving him absolutely wild.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” he says, and he definitely shouldn't be making it so obvious he's enjoying every second of this. But he's never been one to lie to his daughter, and he isn't going to start now.
“Oh God, please keep going, just like that,” she begs in that high, needy tone that does absolute wonders for his arousal. “So close, please touch me, Daddy!”
And how is he supposed to say no to that? She's such a good girl for him, even when all she's able to think about is getting off. So he reaches between them, rubbing her clit in tandem with his thrusts, listening to all those pretty moans as she's brought ever closer to orgasm.
It's absolutely breathtaking, the way she looks right now. Fingers twisted in the sheets, back arched so beautifully, skin flushed the prettiest red he's ever seen. Her head falls back, mouth falling open as she cries out, “Fuck, Dad!”
Really, Lucifer meant to pull out. Had every intent to when he decided to do this. But Charlie just gets so tight when she cums, and the feeling of her pussy clenching around him, pulsing with her orgasm is just far too much for him to handle.
“God, Charlie,” he moans through gritted teeth as he cums, not slowing down one bit as he pumps her full.
He doesn't slow down until his own orgasm subsides, finally stilling inside her, though he doesn't pull out just yet. He leans down, captures her lips in a slow, deep kiss.
“Feeling any better?” he murmurs against her lips.
“A little… I could really go again, though,” Charlie admits.
It's gonna be a long night.