ZZ Ward – Move Like U Stole It

WARNING: Shameless smut ahead. Read at your own peril.

Connor sat on the edge of the bed, his hands resting on his knees and his eyes focused on the television. A news anchor was giving the latest details on the ongoing protests in Washington. He was following along well enough while also keeping one eye on Taylor.

The blonde was hunched over the table with her notebooks spread out before her, For the past few hours, she had been sifting through the pages, reading, taking down notes. Since they had the rest of the day free, she had determined to work on what she was going to say in the hearing tomorrow.

She'd changed, from the outfit she had worn to meet Secretary Headley into a baggy t-shirt and stretch pants. Now she was sitting, legs folded in the chair, chewing on the end of her pen while she flipped another page. Her stress levels fluctuated up every so often, but as many times as he offered to help, she just waved him off.

Her mood had been slightly off all day. Even now, after they had talked again about her leaving. He couldn't quite imagine it, and what he'd told her had been honest. It was just an abstract, and realistically they didn't know how long they would be in Washington, or how long after they headed back to Detroit before this would truly be over.

Still, she had left him before. For the revolution, she had left him standing in the Detroit Police precinct without knowing if she'd ever see him again, or if they would be enemies the next time they met. That was before he was deviant, though. Before he knew he loved her.

He did love her. That much he was certain about now. He would have to reconcile, eventually, with what he would do when she went back to Los Angeles. If he could convince her to stay. If he could somehow go with her, knowing he was leaving Hank behind.

Taylor sighed suddenly, dropping her pen on the table and unfolding her legs to stand. Several joints popped while she stretched, lifting both arms over her head. She exhaled again when she dropped them to her sides.

"Is it going well?" He asked, curious. She hadn't given him many specifics on what she was actually preparing, and he was doing his best not to bother her while she worked.

"I suppose," she said noncommittally, shrugging. "I don't really know what I'm preparing for, do I?"

She shifted her body so that she was facing him, placing her hands on her hips. Pursing her lips, she studied him in silence for a moment, the expression on her face curiously blank. He returned her gaze, getting lost in the blue of her eyes, until she took a decisive step toward him.

"Can I ask you something?" Her voice came out soft, but it was still clear over the miniscule volume of the television. She took another step, her eyes narrowing just slightly, leg almost touching his now.

"Anything." He answered, suddenly nervous, though he didn't understand why. Taylor took a final step so that she stood in front of him, blocking his view of the tv, and held out her hand in the space between them. He didn't break eye contact with her as he slid his fingers into hers, mesmerized by the look in her eyes.

"You can scan me all the time." She moved forward, slid herself onto his lap, until she was sitting on his knees. His hands moved to her hips reflexively, to steady her. He swallowed. "You can feel my heartrate, my breathing, my stress levels."

With her hands free, she slid her fingers along his tie and worked it loose. Her fingertips were surprisingly cold when they brushed against his collar, tugging at his buttons, and he shivered in anticipation. "You know how I'm feeling all of the time."

She worked each button free, still staring directly into his eyes. He could feel the hitch in his thirium pump, his internal fans working to cool him as he overheated. "But this beautiful face of yours," she broke her gaze and leaned in to press her lips against his jaw, "doesn't give much away. Without this," her lips brushed his LED, which he knew was flickering between yellow and red, "I don't think I'd ever work it out."

The last of his buttons sprung free and she slid her hands under the fabric of his shirt. Her lips trailed along his jaw, and there were error messages flashing across his display while he tried to focus over the input of continuous soft touches from her hands and mouth.

"So tell me," she breathed against his neck, her voice low and insistent as she pushed the shirt off of his shoulders. He was putty in her hands, moving his arms, the shirt falling to the bed as she scraped her nails gently down his back. "Do I make you nervous, Connor?"

She pulled her head back so that she could look into his eyes again. They were dark now, pupils dilated. He was panting, his system trying desperately to compensate for the excess heat. When he didn't respond right away, she dipped closer again, kissing the corner of his mouth, her hands still moving greedily over his chest.

"Do you like it when I touch you?" She asked. A hint of tension had slipped into her tone, almost undetectable. But as she'd said, he could always tell how she felt. Something about this question was important to her, though he couldn't imagine how she couldn't tell how quickly he had fallen apart beneath her touch.

"Y-Yes." Connor struggled so much to answer that he stuttered. Taylor froze for just a second, possibly in disbelief. Then she moved to capture his lips with hers, all conversation over.

His hands found her hips again as he deepened the kiss. Their tongues slid together, and while he explored her mouth, she moaned. Impatient for more contact, she slid closer, all the way into his lap, until she suddenly felt the proof of his arousal pressing into her.

She jerked her head back suddenly, her chest heaving, blue eyes wide. He went completely still, not daring to move, not knowing what to do. He hadn't known it was happening, had never experienced it before, and with all of the overwhelming stimulus he'd been receiving, hadn't registered his growing erection.

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, her face a mask of shock while he was terrified. If he had to breathe, he would have been holding his breath. The silence continued until he was about to stutter out an apology.

Then she moved closer to him again, cutting off whatever he was about to say by covering his mouth with hers. She pressed her body fully against him, grinding her hips into his until he was groaning into her kiss.

His hands moved, sliding under the hem of her shirt. He traced the length of her spine, feeling her shiver under his touch. He curled his fingers under the fabric of her bra, touching against the clasp, before he hesitated. He pulled back this time, taking in her face, the rosy flush of her cheeks, her heavy breathing.

"Are you sure?" He asked her softly, trying to keep the strain from his voice. There was another unspoken question hidden just behind it, filled with everything that he knew and understood about her fears and anxieties. Her eyebrows rose, but for once she appeared to know what he meant.

Her hands came up to cup his cheeks. "Connor. I love you. I trust you." Her thumbs brushed gently over the arch of his cheeks. "If I ask you to stop, will you?"

"Of course," he breathed, already pulling his hands away. Taylor didn't let him get any further. She circled her arms around his neck, closing the small distance he had created between them once more. Her lips touched the shell of his ear.

"I don't want you to stop," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. In an instant, his hands were on her again, his arms tightening on her waist. He lifted her as he stood, and her legs constricted around his hips as she giggled breathlessly into his neck. He turned, depositing her onto the bed.

With her limbs still tangled around him, she pulled him down on top of her. He braced himself on the bed so that his full weight didn't fall into her. He gripped the edge of her shirt and jerked it over her head before he ducked down to ravish her lips again. His hands moved along her sides, sliding under her. In one swift motion, he had the clasp of her bra undone.

Her fingers had twisted into his belt buckle, and she was trying to work it loose. He broke away from the kiss, pressing his lips down her neck and toward her collar bone. Tugging the straps on her bra, he pulled it away and tossed it aside. He closed a hand around her breast, kneading it gently while he closed his mouth over her right nipple.

She gasped, her fingers stuttering over the button on his pants. Her back arched upward as he flicked his tongue back and forth, and she moaned softly. Shifting his hands down to her hips, he slipped his fingers into the stretching hem of her pants and slid them down. She kicked them off once they reached her ankles.

He was hungry with his touch, his hands roaming over her thighs, her hips, her waist. Every exposed piece of flesh he had never had access to before. His fingers pressed lightly against the thin fabric of her panties, the wet desire collected there, and she moaned again, her hips bucking into his hand.

Unable to take it any longer, he hooked the edges of her underwear and jerked them off, so forceful he nearly ripped them in half. He pulled away, hovering above her, his eyes roving over every inch of skin.

For a second, Connor just stared, taking her in. Taylor was panting, flushed, her eyes bright as she regarded him. Her hands twitched on the bed, wanting to cover herself, but she stayed still. She allowed him to look until she couldn't stand it anymore, and her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him down into another kiss.

His hand ghosted up the inside of her thigh. As he pressed his thumb into the heat of her, she moaned in pleasure, her head falling back into the bed. He moved in a slow circle as he lowered his head, returning to his ministrations on her breasts.

"C-Connor," she gasped, burying her hands in his hair when he slid his index finger inside of her and started to gently pump, in and out. Her grip tightened and she writhed beneath him. Pressing more firmly, he increased his pace, curling his index finger upwards. Her hips bucked against his hand again, her fingers curling into his scalp.

A thin sheen of sweat broke out across her skin. She was moaning his name, and he was intoxicated by the sound of it. He added his middle finger as he pumped, grazing his teeth along her nipple.

"Connor, I'm—" She didn't finish. Her walls fluttered and tightened around his fingers. She threw her head back into the bed as she came undone for him. He didn't slow until she had released his hair to reach down and push at his hands.

Connor eased himself up, sliding his fingers out of her and staring at the sheen of cum. He touched the tips of his fingers to his tongue, then closed his lips around them, absorbing the taste of her. Analysis popped up into display, but he ignored it. She was watching him, her eyes wide, her face turning a deeper shade of scarlet.

Then she reached up, slid her fingers around the button on his pants and undid it. Only a beat passed before he was helping her, pulling both them and his boxers down, kicking them away. She paused for just a heartbeat, taking in the length of his cock, fully erect and tilted upward toward his stomach.

Taylor shifted forward on the bed, closer, her mouth covering his, her kiss laced with desire. He dug his fingers into her hips as he positioned himself. Breaking from the kiss, he pressed his forehead against hers.

He pushed into her, slowly, feeling her stretch around him. She moaned, her eyelids fluttering, and he pressed soft kisses against the corner of her mouth, her cheeks, her jaw the deeper he thrust. Her nails were clenched into his shoulders, and were he capable, he was sure he would be feeling the bite of pain.

When he was buried to the hilt, he stilled. A few seconds passed before she slid her legs tight around his hips. Then she rolled her hips into him, and the small bit of friction the motion caused sent a wave of heat curling through the pit of his abdomen. Permission to move.

Still gripping her hips in his hands, he pulled out of her almost completely before slamming back in. She cried out, her fingernails digging into his skin, but he didn't stop. He started to thrust, and her gasping moans spurred him on, the muscles in her thighs tightening around him and shivering.

He moved his hand from her hip, pressing his fingers into the swollen hood of her clitoris. "Oh god, Connor," she gasped. As he moved them back and forth, eliciting carnal noises from her, he moved his lips toward her ear.

"Say it again." He said, low as his teeth grazed her earlobe. She obliged him, repeating his name over and over like a prayer until her walls shuddered and constricted around him. Just a few more thrusts and he came with her, until they were both panting, riding out the high together. He nuzzled against her neck, holding onto her as he pulled out.

Quiet.

Taylor was stretched across Connor's side, her limbs tangled around him, fully encompassed in his warmth. His hand had settled onto her side, palm flat against her skin, fingers splayed. Eyes closed but wide awake. They'd somehow made it fully into the bed, and now it was simply quiet.

Not just the room. Connor had switched off the television, even on its low volume. After some long pauses there might be a stray noise from the hallway, people roaming the hotel, another room door closing. Otherwise, silence.

But it was her head that was quiet. As someone who struggled with anxiety, there was never a time when errant thoughts weren't falling unbidden from her subconscious. Overthinking was like a browser with popups that sprung up faster than she could close the windows, and most days she just tried to keep the pace.

Right now, though, there was only one thing occupying her mind. The very physical presence still grounding her to the moment, his arms wrapped tightly around her. The rest of her head was blessedly empty.

Quiet.

"Hey, Connor." She spoke quietly into the hush of the room, almost afraid to disturb it. He made a small noise of acknowledgment that vibrated through his chest, from his skin to hers, and she thought that maybe she was just asking questions to hear him talk. "Don't take this as a complaint or anything, but I thought you told me that you weren't a Traci model."

"I was designed to completely integrate with humans." Connor responded, completely neutral. Too cavalier. She pursed her lips and pulled away, just slightly, so she could see his face. His LED was circling a gentle yellow.

"I wasn't talking about anatomy." Heat crawled over her skin, despite their current situation, turning her cheeks pink. She might have felt self-conscious, but the way he had looked at her when she had been naked beneath him made it impossible. A sense of awe that made her feel unsullied. Clean. "I meant that you really seemed to know what you were doing back there."

His cheeks turned that light shade of blue that let her know that he was also blushing, but she didn't know if it was from the perceived compliment or something else. He hesitated, LED still flickering, before he said, "As an advanced prototype model, I have access to other models' core programming modules."

For a full minute, she just stared at him and his darkening face, not understanding what he meant. Then it dawned on her, "Wait, so you, like, downloaded a Traci instruction manual? Is that what you're saying?"

"In simplified terms." He admitted reluctantly. She was too dumbfounded to respond right away, and he was watching her nervously, that line in between his eyebrows. Softly, he said, "I wanted your experience to be pleasurable."

"Oh, Connor." She snuggled back into his side, smiling against his shoulder. "You beautiful idiot. I love you."

His fingers tightened, almost imperceptibly. He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "I love you, too."