A Musebox

Dean's not sure he wants the praise but the way his body responds to it says otherwise. Trying to keep up with Lucifer's thrusts in his position is nearly impossible but he attempts to work himself back when he can, when he isn't being rattled fully by the pounding of thrusts against his prostate. There's no escaping it, his filling arousal rising up above the lip of the desk, raw and overly sensitive. Staring down at himself only makes him heat that much more, part of him wanting foul words from Lucifer, the rest unsure he can stand it.