Chapter 32 #2
Chee wasn’t sure, but it certainly felt intimate. Though they weren’t doing the traditional horizontal tango, there was a depth, a connection that she knew didn’t exist anywhere else.
They returned to the inn and, unlike last time, they had chosen to share a singular room. There had been doubt about what they were going to be doing – or not doing – while they were here. But she wasn’t in doubt anymore.
They left the lights off, so it was dim like his room. And she knew now that he preferred the dungeon like atmosphere because that’s where he had been raised. Trapped in that hellish basement.
“It doesn’t bother you?” She asked as they stood in the center of the room, facing each other. “Being reminded of that place?”
He looked around the dim room before focusing back on her. “I’m a domini. Our minds don’t process trauma the way other species do. It’s comforting to me. Is that unusual?”
Chee shook her head. “I never could go back into that kitchen where my uncle died. We had to leave that house completely. But that’s normal for humans. If this is normal for domini, then it’s not unusual. If it makes you comfortable, I’m okay with it.”
Trove hesitated, looking at her carefully. “Perhaps I’m not saying this correctly. My species doesn’t process violent trauma like others. We enjoy violence. We enjoy the fight. The sexual trauma though…”
“You’re not unusual, Trove,” she promised. “We all heal and cope differently. What do you want to do now?”
“I want to fuck you.”
She laughed, smiling at him. “I want that too. But can you?”
He growled, jaw tightening. “Probably not. No.”
“Then, what shall we do?” When he didn’t respond, she held up her hands. “Do you want to tie me up again?”
He shook his head. “No. I want you… to not move.”
Chee nodded once and dropped her hands back to her sides.
He reached for her but paused before he could touch her. He focused on her face seriously. “If I do something you don’t like, tell me to stop. And I will.”
She nodded once. “I will. Promise.”
He took in a breath and reached for her again.
As requested, she didn’t move. She kept herself loose, unmoving as he slowly stroked his hands down her shoulders, down her arms. He took her by the elbows and turned her.
She obligingly spun around, letting him guide her as he wanted.
He found the seal for her clothes and pressed it, letting the clothes fall to her feet.
He then took her by the arms and faced her forward again.
Now nude except for her shoes, a pair of strappy sandals that remained on her feet as he looked her over.
She remained still as he reached for her again. This time the tips of his fingers just barely ghosted over her skin. Down her shoulders again, but this time he went down over the modest curve of her bust, the peak of her nipple, then down her belly, until he stopped just above her groin.
He paused then and took a step back. She had to resist the urge to step after him. To beg for more. Just that caress, only that, was enough to remind her body how good he made her feel. And as much as it destroyed her, she wanted more.
She craved him like candy. A sweet and sinful treat that probably hurt her more than it helped but was so good she couldn’t help but come back for more.
Still, though she shivered with longing, she remained still and unmoving.
Trove watched her for just a moment before a knowing smirk crossed his face.
She wasn’t at all subtle about her desire.
And he seemed to revel in it as he put on a show for her while taking off his clothes.
His movements were slow and deliberate as he stripped.
And it wasn’t until he had his top off that she realized it was the first time she had seen him naked.
Despite everything he had done to her, despite how close they had become, he had kept his clothes on completely the entire time. And as he tossed the garments aside, leaving himself bare and vulnerable, the look on his face told her that he wasn’t exactly comfortable.
“You don’t have to force yourself,” Chee assured him.
He smiled, running his hand down his chest, mimicking the exact same trail he had taken with that hand on her chest.
And she was trying very hard not to stare, but it wasn’t an easy thing. The inhuman member drew her eye like a magnet.
He was still soft, so it was pointing at the ground, hanging limp but poised, like it was ready to stand proud at a moment’s notice.
He certainly had nothing to be ashamed of.
Even soft, he rivaled what other males could hope for when hard.
There were also visible ridges along the body, even while soft, that formed a triangle, pointing down from the ridge of the head up toward his body.
The shaft rested atop a pair of heavy balls that looked surprisingly firm.
Or maybe she just didn’t know what balls were supposed to look like.
They weren’t really something she paid much attention to, even when she was watching naughty videos.
The rest of him was nothing to be ashamed of either.
Though Trove wasn’t nearly as bulky or muscular as the rest of the crew, his body was more like a sleeper build.
Once it was no longer concealed by his jumpsuit, she could appreciate the lines of definition that marked each muscle.
There were a couple of small scars here and there, but nothing drastic or devastating.
He had a great body. The kind of toned and defined figure that male models struggled to get to by dehydrating themselves the day before a big photo shoot.
It was honestly a bit disheartening when she remembered what she looked like. Small tits and wide hips were never a form that graced a magazine cover.
Yet, somehow, he was the one who looked self-conscious.
“You don’t usually get undressed, do you?” She guessed.
He shook his head. “My aunt and mother didn’t need my cock. And I couldn’t use it on the prostitutes. So, there was never a reason to be undressed.”
“I like your body,” Chee said, smiling in a way she hoped was more encouraging than creepy. That statement really could go both ways. “I mean, it’s a nice one. Handsome. You’re very handsome, Trove.”
She hoped she could say that without triggering him. Her voice was hesitant as she spoke, ready to stop the moment it looked like he was uncomfortable.
But he grinned, holding out his arms as if to display himself. “I’m glad you approve. I want to feel your hands on me.”
She nodded but waited, knowing it wouldn’t be that simple. If he could just handle her touch, they wouldn’t need to be careful in the first place.
Trove sauntered back until he was in front of her again.
“Remember,” he said, “don’t move.”
She nodded once but was otherwise still.
Though it was not easy, especially not with him so close that his torso filled up her field of vision, that she could feel his body heat radiating off him.
She wanted almost nothing more than to throw her arms around him.
To kiss him. To feel her body, bare and free, pressing into his.
Almost nothing.
Because there was one thing she wanted more, and that was for his joy and comfort. She didn’t want him to associate her touch with revulsion or disgust. Or tolerance. She didn’t want him to just tolerate her caressing him.
One day, she assured herself. When he’d healed, when he no longer had to brace himself or resist the urge to run away.
Until then, she only wanted to do what he needed.
And in this case, that was nothing.
Trove smiled approvingly as she remained unmoving but limp as he reached out and took her wrists in his hands. He lifted them up and, just as he had before, kissed her palms lovingly.
“See, for me, it’s a matter of control,” he began.
“I used pleasure as a weapon to control the females around me because it was how I survived. Even after I no longer needed to do it to stay alive, I still craved that control. That was what drove me to the professional ladies even after I was free of Rik-Vane. It wasn’t for sex.
It wasn’t for my pleasure. It was my way of maintaining some level of control over something.
It was a habit I kept like a youngling clings to their favorite blanket.
“It’s also why I didn’t let them touch me. If they were touching me, then that wasn’t in my control. And I didn’t like their hands on me. It makes no sense, I know, but I wanted to be their source of pleasure without being their source of desire.”
“No, Trove,” Chee said softly, “that makes perfect sense.”
“Does it?”
“Yes. Pleasure and desire had nothing to do with each other in your mind. You just said that pleasure was your weapon. But you had to forge that weapon because of the desires forced on you by others. You didn’t want to be their source of pleasure; you wanted them to be your source of control without the desires that made you seek out that control. ”
Trove smiled at her over her fingers. Adoration and tenderness shining in his three violet eyes. “I should have known you would understand me. Even better than I can even begin to understand myself.”