Page 164 of Trove’s Purpose

Because she would never touch him selfishly. She was always safe for him. As he would always be a safe place for her.

His vicious, powerful little mate that had killed for him. Who protected him so righteously.

Grabbing her, he abruptly rolled them over. She let out a short cry of surprise but didn’t resist the motion. Their kiss was broken for only a moment and then she was throwing herself back at him. At the same moment, he grabbed her clothes and, using his new claws, ripped them to shreds.

The cry Chee let out this time was partially in dismay. And he knew why. That wasn’t one of her overly baggy clothes from Earth. That was one of her pretty dresses that he got her. The ones that flattered her form and made her appear dazzling to others.

They looked even better hanging off her in tatters.

Grabbing her by the arms, he jerked her down so he could close his mouth over her nipple. He sucked and licked at the hardening bud as he used his claws to rip through the rest of her clothing and his own until they were laying in a nest made of the shredded remains of their garments.

For the first use of his claws since he’d restored them, it was an excellent trial of their abilities. Beaten only a moment later by the way she shivered and trembled over him as he dragged the slightly dull tips over her skin. Caressing her in the same way she often did him.

“Trove,” she moaned, shaking so prettily.

“Say my name again,” he ordered, grabbing her ass with both hands. Digging his claws into her skin. The points made her cry out, though he didn’t press hard enough to puncture. He would still definitely be leaving marks, and he loved it.

Pushing himself up, he got them into a seated position with her on her knees, hovering above his lap. He kept her there, one arm around her waist, legs spread.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” he said, running his fingers across her slit. Being careful of his claws.

He didn’t regret regrowing them, but he was also willing to bite a couple of them short if it meant he could keep pleasing her.

But his claws weren’t sharp. They were pointed but not pointy. He didn’t need to worry about shredding her flesh if he was slow or careful.

And he was both of those things as he teased and pressed at her entrance. Pushing forward, pulling back. Opening her, stretching her. Watching her face, her reactions, as he fucked her with, essentially, only his claws.

She trembled and shook. She moaned and panted. Her hips jerked as she tried to seek more. Of his fingers. Of his claws.

He smiled wickedly, pleased with her reaction.

They learned together. The limits of her body. The new limits of his. She liked the slight pressure of his claws right there at the front of her hole. Not much, but enough for her to feel it. To know he was fucking her with them.

“You are so beautiful,” he praised. Cock hard and painful. But he had grown used to that ache. It was a desperation that reminded him that he needed to be inside his mate. But it was a sweet sort of agony that he relished as it grew worse the more he pleased her and denied himself.

She was his only purpose now. Pleasing her, loving her, finding joy in her.

There could be no greater pursuit for his life.

Chapter 56

Chee

His claws were driving her mad.

Trove had always been good with his fingers. He played her body like an instrument, manipulating her nerves like he had been given directions to their operation.

But it was the sort of well-trained, generalized experience of a professional. He knew how to work her body, because he had studied it so often before. Because he had spent so much time practicing. He didn’t do anything wrong for long, because he recognized instantly that it wasn’t working and he changed the technique, even before she realized she didn’t like it as much.

However, his claws were new. He was learning them. He was learning her with them. It was like they were growing, changing, breathing, moving together. And it wasn’t practiced perfection. But it was still Trove, and it was their joining, and it was perfect for that alone.

He had three fingers inside her now. Moving slow. Massaging her soft, inner walls. And they were joined by his thumb pressing around her clit. A familiar move, but not actually because joining it was the pressure of his claw. It landed right over her clit. Catching the throbbing nub of flesh between the tip of his finger and the tip of the claw.

And when he began stroking slow circles around it, combining with his fingers moving in her, it became too much too quickly.

Chee, already driven to the edge, threw back her head, screaming as she came. Her walls clenched around his fingers. The sensitive skin there very aware of his claws. But they didn’t hurt. Trove would never hurt her.

Though he would torture her. What other reason would he have to rip his fingers away? To deprive her of their stretch, their pressure?