He crowded into her as his tongue invaded her mouth, gripping her by the lapel of her coat as he walked her backwards until her back hit the brick wall behind her. She moaned into his mouth, granting him further access to her. Her tongue twined with his as she made desperate sounds, her fingers biting into the nape of his neck.
He popped the buttons on her coat with impatient fingers, yanking the stiff fabric aside so he could mold his hands to her waist. They roamed with all the pent-up longing he’d been suffering for days, learning her form as they went. When he palmed her breasts, she gasped against his lips. He devoured thesound, kneading her breasts hard, gratified by another hungry sound of approval from her throat.
“More,” she demanded in a hoarse voice.
She grabbed one of his hands and shoved it beneath the hem of her short dress. Her core burned hot in stark contrast to the bitter winter air, warming his fingers as he cupped her through her stockings.
“You’re so hot,” he murmured.
He hadn’t imagined how hot she would be inside. His android partners had been calibrated to a human temperature internally, but it had not been like this. It was as though he could truly feel her burning for him.
She rolled her hips, grinding against him as she bit down on his bottom lip in challenge.
He twisted his fingers in the flimsy fabric of her lace tights and pulled, ripping them with a loud sound that made her jerk back in surprise. She was panting, every breath a little puff of fog, looking into his eyes as he dragged her panties to the side and sank two fingers into her without preamble. He savored the broken cry she loosed at the invasion.
She was so soaked for him that the wet sound her body made as he sheathed his fingers was deliciously obscene. And oh, this was nothing like fucking another doll. She was so hot and wet and fluttery within—so vital, sohuman.
He fingered her lazily, learning her inner walls with languid caresses. But he stroked her deep—deep enough that she was rocked up onto her toes by the force of it. Her shoulders pressed against the wall as her hips arched toward him, struggling for balance as she shuffled her legs apart to allow him access to her.
“You are such a good girl,” he told her, nuzzling her ear.
She shuddered, her eyes rolling back as his thumb slid between her labia on his next thrust, slicking over her clit.
“It feels so good, doesn’t it?”
Her lashes fluttered, and her head lolled against the bricks.
“This is what I was made for, you know. I’ll give you this every night if you let me. You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
He wasn’t supposed to be able to get hard without manual stimulation, but his cock was pressing painfully against his pants as she looked at him from beneath her dewy lashes, nodding helplessly.
“Use your words, Ophelia.”
“Yes.” It was more a whimper than a word.
“Yes, what?”
“Y-yes, I want you to—” She squeezed her eyes shut, her throat working as she shook her head.
So shy.
He stilled his hand inside her. She cried out a protest, rolling her hips at him, so he withdrew completely. His free hand abandoned her breast to catch her around the throat, pinning her to the bricks to stop her when she tried to reach for him.
“Sam, please.”
He leaned in until their noses brushed. “Please what? I want to hear to you say it.”
She looked pained, as though he was torturing her by asking her to state what she wanted out loud.
“Touch me,” she whined, arching into him.
“You want me to keep fucking you with my fingers?”
She gasped, her struggle to press her hips into him becoming more urgent. “Yes.”
“Say it,” he growled, squeezing her throat.
“Fuck me,” she half-shouted in frustration, clawing at his arm.
