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“Fuck, fuck, fuck, okay, wait.” Connor pants, mouth and throat so dry he has to work to get the words out. His cunt continues to pulse around the warm synthskin of HK800’s cock, sending shivers of too-much-so-good to curl his toes and make his thighs tremble.
“Are you alright, Lieutenant?” Hank’s large, rough hands sweep up and down Connor’s sweat soaked back. Why was he designed with such strong fucking hands?
“Holy shit, that’s four. I’ve never…” Connor smacks his lips, sighing luxureously. It’s not quite a lie, he hasn’t ever gotten this far with a human partner. Fuck, it’s rare he can squeeze one out with a guy. When he has the time to cruise, he tends to attract selfish tops.
Or abject assholes.
“If you’re done…” Hank’s not even winded. Doesn’t need to breathe.
Case in fucking point.
Connor very suddenly realizes Hank could do this for hours, fuck him until it stops feeling good. Fuck him until he cries. “Are you gonna come?”
“I don’t have to,” Hank shrugs, like that’s not fucking devastating. “But yeah, Connor, I’m gonna come. Plan is, I’m gonna fuck you out of your goddamn mind, make you come til you can’t anymore, then I’m gonna come, fill you right up and maybe, we can get back to work. That sound good?”
“Yes.”
Hank, pulls out and turns Connor over, ignoring his noise of protest and the way he tries to cover his face, hiding from the wet noise that comes with. “Yeah, you’re not done.” He says, smug, and that’s a fucking trip. Hank’s a smug bastard when it gets right down to it, he loves to come out on top, no pun intended. Connor doesn’t have time to clench around nothing before Hank is sliding his fingers in and sealing his mouth around Connor’s dick, sucking gently even as he presses in with unyielding strength.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck, oh god, that’s five. That’s five!” Connor babbles, Hank’s grip like an iron band around his waist so he can’t thrash or buck like he wants to. “Holy shit, Hank, please get the fuck up here.”
He pulls away with one last long suck to Connor’s cock, flicking his tongue out at the last moment, his shitty, smug grin framed by a soaked beard. Asshole. Connor’s own wet smears across his chin when Hank kisses him. “You wanna sit on me?”
“Yes, yeah, please.” Connor says, ragdoll limp and letting Hank’s inhuman strength roll them over. He’s just, he’s - “You’re so fucking deep, I can’t, Fuck!” Connor smacks a hand on Hank’s shoulder, rocking and grinding his cock into the soft-scratch of Hank’s simulated pubes.
“You still with me, Connor?” Hank holds him immobile, chuckling roughly at Connor’s inarticulate noises of frustration. “Well?”
“I,” God Connor asked for it, he asked for this and now he’s out of his fucking mind, can barely string two sentences together between the too-much-not-enough hot and cold. “Yeah. Please, Hank.”
“Let’s get you to six, huh, pretty boy?”