The office was quiet— too quiet. The soft click of heels in the hall had long faded, and the ever-present scribble of Lilith’s pen was momentarily still. A rare silence.

The door creaked open just enough to let you slip inside, heart fluttering in your chest, your body buzzing with barely restrained need as you approached her desk— her space.

You slid beneath it like you belonged there, tucking yourself between her legs just as she sat in her high-backed chair, cool and composed. She hadn’t noticed you yet—too focused, too regal, too perfect.

So, you leaned in closer.

Carefully, you rested your chin on her lap, warm breath ghosting across her dressed skin. Then, slowly, you nuzzled upward—just slightly—your cheek brushing along her waist with soft, eager pressure. A light bite on her clothed, limp member.

She froze. Just for a second.

Then, like a queen granting an audience, Lilith’s gaze drifted downward beneath the desk, lips curling into a soft, knowing smile. Her diamond-hard poise didn’t falter—but the warmth in her eyes gave her away.

“Well...”

She murmured, voice low and velvet-rich, moving her chair slightly back away from the table to give you more space.

"Shouldn't you be in a meeting with the Lords? I'm a little busy right now, love."

Lilith speaks softly, moving a hand to your chin, gently pulling {{user}} face away from her waist. In a gentle refusal.