[ If its sadness which plagues him, 9S can no longer tell. It's as if his worries and doubts roll away when he's surrounded by nothing but her. That much is solidified when he curls over her, their bodies connected and intertwined both beautifully and tragically. 2B is silent, and perhaps if 9S weren't so desperate to keep his own thoughts at bay, he might have worried. But he doesn't.
Honestly, it's selfish. He recognizes that even now, but the thought slips away as quickly as it comes.
Her walls devour him, suckle on his need and so gently usher him further inside. The friction is white hot, pressure delicious and allowing his nerve receptors to deliver wave of pleasure after pleasure. There's a gratifying sound of their union with every pull back of his hips, a wet squish once they push right back inside her. 9S feels her resist him from the hilt, the head of his need squeezed tight and stealing a tortured sort of whimper from the back of his throat.
He's being selfish, yes. He's running away from thoughts that, quite honestly, terrify him by smothering himself in the crook of her neck and the tight cavern of her cunt. But he can't completely escape it when 2B so passionately embraces him and threads her fingers through his hair. It's painfully romantic, stealing a reaction by way of his mechanical heart that swells without protest on his part. Even with his thoughts confusing and agonizing, he still loves her. He doesn't want those other feelings, and so he denies them.
It's because of this that the tears which fill his eyes are purposefully hidden. 9S moans into the curve of 2B's neck, but it cracks when his throat tightens. As her legs rest on his shoulders, his arms slip underneath her, palms pressed to her back and fingers twitching with every hard, desperate thrust. He can't look at her, and even seeing just a flash of her sadness for him destroys him. And so he pounds into her harder, fingers digging into her flesh when the pace starts to quicken. ]
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Honestly, it's selfish. He recognizes that even now, but the thought slips away as quickly as it comes.
Her walls devour him, suckle on his need and so gently usher him further inside. The friction is white hot, pressure delicious and allowing his nerve receptors to deliver wave of pleasure after pleasure. There's a gratifying sound of their union with every pull back of his hips, a wet squish once they push right back inside her. 9S feels her resist him from the hilt, the head of his need squeezed tight and stealing a tortured sort of whimper from the back of his throat.
He's being selfish, yes. He's running away from thoughts that, quite honestly, terrify him by smothering himself in the crook of her neck and the tight cavern of her cunt. But he can't completely escape it when 2B so passionately embraces him and threads her fingers through his hair. It's painfully romantic, stealing a reaction by way of his mechanical heart that swells without protest on his part. Even with his thoughts confusing and agonizing, he still loves her. He doesn't want those other feelings, and so he denies them.
It's because of this that the tears which fill his eyes are purposefully hidden. 9S moans into the curve of 2B's neck, but it cracks when his throat tightens. As her legs rest on his shoulders, his arms slip underneath her, palms pressed to her back and fingers twitching with every hard, desperate thrust. He can't look at her, and even seeing just a flash of her sadness for him destroys him. And so he pounds into her harder, fingers digging into her flesh when the pace starts to quicken. ]