Deviant Behavior (Connor x Reader)

New Objective (NSFW)

His eyelids creased as he hooked inside you, a low grunt leaving him as his own mask began to break.

"The first time, at least."

The pleasure he took in your torment was little a secret. Your breasts began to swell, nipples hardening at the tip. He couldn't stop watching. It was as if he could see every biological response you had to his bodily requests.

He knew where to press against, which spot was the most reactive - how to relieve the pressure building up as you clamped around his touch. But what made it worse was the constant ebbing and flowing of his thumb; vibrating and held in place firm against your clit.

You were at the mercy of the android fucking you with three fingers and a stare that could kill.

You started to sweat. You needed to be closer to him. This was plenty, but it wasn't enough. You needed more; needed him.

The silk of his tie was fine as it wrapped around your hand, caressing your knuckles and getting caught between your fingers as you spun it; trapping it in a fist. You yanked it, stealing a kiss with renewed vigor...even if short-lived.

The soft amber in his eyes turned to hardened brass, like a bullet casing rolling in a chamber.

"But do you know what I enjoy more than simply watching you squirm, Officer?"

The sensation from below reached a peak. Maxed out on its setting; pushed you passed the point of no return. He matched the rhythm of your chest, rising and falling, in and out; fascination pooling in his eyes in the form of lust and leashed hunger. He placed a hand on the desk above your shoulder. Leaned in close, cheek gliding along yours as his lips tickled your ear...

"Making, you squirm."

You whimpered, a soft moan trickling from your throat in the sounds of muted pleasure. Your knees were failing as your firing nerves lost track of their destination from the sensory overload between your legs.

Your back straightened, chest molding into his as your chin pointed towards the ceiling. He held you there, sucking in the air you gasped for. Your fingers dug into the desk, nails scratching at the wood like the trapped prey that you were; begging for release.

"Connor-" You sighed his name, tears born form ecstasy threatening to spill.

And then his pace quickened. His hand pumped against your entrance and went deeper, stronger, until you felt the wound coil in your core begin to unwind.

Your face flushed and your skin prickled. Your teeth clenched. You became glazed with sweat. Bit back a moan as he rolled a nipple in his mouth; tongue swirling around its peak – breast puckering under the delicate pull of his lips.

Your nails traced the scratchy fabric of the back of his jacket and up into his hair – surrendering to his torture. He switched sides, your wet nipple pebbling in the cold draft of the living room. He pulled on the other with his teeth, and it snapped to ripple your tender breast when he set it free.

And then you were empty again.

"What are you-"

You were shaking, violently now, willfully falling victim to his calculated movements.

He bit the meat of your thigh, and you jumped. Everything was entrenched; engulfed in the fire that burned hot in your stomach.

His breath cooled the slickness between your legs as he hooked them over his shoulders, your ass balanced on the edge of the desk.

"I am going to make you climax for a second time," He purred your name in the same velvet tones that made your head spin, "If you'd like."

The spear of his tongue brushed against your clit, and you shivered. It seemed to excite him just as much, a small grin creeping on his lips. So he did it again, slowly. Tauntingly. Eyes narrowed and focused.

He braced your abdomen away from your wound, holding you down and keeping you still...

"Yes-"

A rumble erupted from his throat, vibrating against you more gently than he had. His tongue glided along your slit, lapping the aftermath of his previous accomplishments; leaving you dissolved, intoxicated, hazed.

He was on a mission, his new objective to drive you absolutely fucking insane.

He paced a thumb over a nipple; the caressing turned into strong grasps as his fingertips dug and released. You sorted through every strand of dark hair that graced his head. Your legs spread wider, silently begging him to relieve the pressure.

His fingers slipped inside, rougher than before. Your toes curled as you cried at the ceiling, playing with your own breast that was free from him while holding his head firmly against you. You grinded your hips, felt your clit pulsing in his mouth as he worked you with his tongue and lips until he made you so, so tight. You ached for something to stretch you out, to hit harder against the one spot that took years for your last lover to find.

A bead of sweat rolled down your neck. Time seemed to slow, and your eyelids fluttered. Your vision all but blurred. You gasped for air, your clenching abdomen pulling in shuddering breaths as you were sent into a complete state of pain and pleasure.

His grip latched under your chin, and two fingers plugged your mouth. Your hands continued to lace themselves in his hair as you bit down, the plastic smooth on your tongue; your muffled cries slipping between the gaps.

And he groaned so hard as a trickle left you from below...

Your thighs squeezed against his head as he kept going, wouldn't let up – didn't back down even after you'd made the mess that dripped to the floor and ran down his chin.

Your hips bounced as the pulled suction from his mouth broke apart from you. He was breathing heavily, watching you as if he was proud of his work; proud of leaving you in complete and utter disarray.

He ran a hand down his face, eyes locked on target; and you'd barely collected yourself before his tongue filled your mouth instead. He tasted like you, too; like how badly he'd needed to stake his claim.

You were breathless, your limbs jellied under his direction as he tossed your arms around his neck and wrapped your legs tighter around his waist. You fell into the security of his embrace, and he lifted you.

A soft mewl slipped past your numbed lips as your chin hung over his shoulder, the softness of his hair making you smile as it rubbed against your cheek.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, carrying you down the hallway.

"What kind of question is that...?"

"An honest one."

He tapped the bedroom door with his foot, and it swung open.

"I've...I've never..." You blinked steadily, unsure how to respond.

It was like you'd been drugged, overdosed, and left to ride out the high without anything to help you come back down.

The thick stuffing of your comforter blanketed your naked back as if you'd been laid on a mountain of pillows. The mattress felt wonderful against the spots that'd grown sore from laying on the table. Everything was just so...sensitive.

"Never?"

He hovered above you, his tie dangling; the tip tickling the space between your breasts.

"I've never felt this way before..." You rolled your face to meet his. Watched his brows hike, and his features smooth over.

"Not even with...?"

You didn't say anything. You just shook your head, completely entranced, completely lost in him.

"I'm glad this can be new for both of us, then." He flashed you an innocent grin, tilted to one side of his face.

You cradled it as if it was a precious image you wanted to remember forever. He took your hand in his, kissing your palm as he tangled his fingers between yours.

"Would you like to rest?"

Your brows creased, "No. No, I-"

"Good. Stay still, now." He bent over for a quick kiss, and left the room in a hurry, "I'll be back shortly."

You weren't done with him, yet.

But it sounded like he wasn't done with you, either.