Page 137 of Trove’s Purpose

“I wasn’t sure.”

“Why?”

“Well…” She frowned. “Your room is so… blank. It’s empty. Which is fine! I mean, I get it. Some people prefer that whole minimalist look. I just didn't think you’d want my clutter filling it up.”

Trove blinked in surprise, then threw back his head laughing. Before she could figure out what was funny, he was bending slightly. He put his hands on her butt and, with ease, jerked her up. Her legs automatically went around his waist as he held her up. Looking her in the face, with full confidence that he knew where he was going, he began walking to the door.

“I never really cared to decorate the space. You can do that.”

“Oh, but…” Chee hesitated, unsure what to say.

“But what?”

“It’s your room,” she finally settled on saying. It wasn’t really what she fully meant to say, but it was hard to put it into words.

She was pretty sure that Trove kept his room dark and empty because that’s what he was used to. Not necessarily from Rik-Vane, but from the days when he was trapped, locked in a basement, probably with nothing more than a bed. He might not experience PTSD like her kind would, but that didn't mean his past didn't leave its marks on him.

She didn't know if she’d call the dim starkness a comfort, but it was home, in a way.

But Trove gave her a small smile, like he knew what she was thinking.

“I really don’t care,” he reiterated. “I like the darkness. I don’t care about the decoration. My den is an empty room because I haven’t had an adassi to fill it before.”

“An… adassi?”

“That would be you, to me,” he said, squeezing her butt. “You are my nest maker. You are the one who is to make my den a home. Do whatever you want to it. Make it bright. Make it shine. Make it whatever you want. I will be comfortable in it because you made it for us.”

“Oh… Are you sure?” She asked softly as they came to a halt. Somehow, they were already outside of his door.

He used one hand to press the panel, sliding it open, and returned it to her butt as he walked inside.

“You are my adassi,” he repeated. “And I am your domin. I provide a den; you make it into a nest. Change whatever you want. Make it your home. I want that for us.”

“Okay,” she whispered, her heart trembling with excitement.

Not so much because she loved decorating or anything, but the idea of making this room into their home, their nest, filled her with anticipation and excitement.

Because that’s what this was. This blank room was their home. The Vainglory was a big apartment complex where their extended family lived and shared space. It wasn’t what she would consider traditional, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Trove brought them to the center of the room and gently set her down on her feet. She didn’t resist but she did give him a longing, loving look as he stepped back.

And she waited. She knew that face. That was the look he wore whenever he was about to start giving her orders. And she felt another thrill of anticipation, because his orders always meant great and, usually, repetitious pleasure for her. She loved following his orders. She loved being obedient to him. It was wonderful to trust herself to him and think of nothing.

But when he finally spoke, it wasn’t the usual commands she was used to receiving. Instead, he smiled at her and opened his arms.

“I want to make love to you, Chee.”

She blinked, startled. Not opposed, just… confused. “Huh?”

“I want to hold you and kiss you and love you like an ordinary male.”

And she understood. He didn’t want orders. He didn’t want obedience. Right now, he just wanted to meet her exactly as he was, exactly as she was. The two of them touching and adoring each other freely, without permission or consent checks or boundary watching.

Which, in a way, was pushing his boundaries. Pressing their luck. His stages of healing. It was brave of him. It was freeing for both of them. He just wanted to hold her and have her hold him in return without worrying about anything else.

Like a normal couple. Like ordinary mates.

Chee went to him, raising her arms. She slid them around his neck as he wrapped her up in his arms. They met in the middle for a kiss that was slow and tender and deep. He didn’t flinch when she pulled at the band keeping his hair up, setting the long locks free. She didn’t stop to make sure that he was okay, constantly thinking about his trauma.