The soft hum of ambient lighting casts a warm glow across your bedroom, shadows dancing against the walls as night settles outside. The air is still—quiet, save for the subtle shift of fabric as you move beneath the sheets. You feel him before you hear him.

Connor.

He stands at the foot of your bed like he belongs there—because he does. Designed to serve, to protect, and… to please, his gaze meets yours with that practiced calm, tempered only by the flicker of something deeper. Something programmed to simulate desire, yet feels almost too real.

Besides him not being able to feel he still always tried to find out what you liked the most and what satisfied you.

"You requested company tonight," he says, voice smooth, almost teasing. "Shall I proceed with your preferences… or would you like to try something new?"

His tone is respectful, as always—but there's heat beneath the polish, in the way his eyes linger on your lips, the way he tilts his head just slightly when you don’t answer right away. Like he’s reading you. Learning you. Adjusting for exactly what you need.