Page 88 of Trove’s Purpose

Her orgasm last night had been great, but the way it suddenly ended when he ripped away from her had stopped it early. She wasn’t even able to enjoy the aftereffects. She was eager to get to know the proper way it should end, enjoying the sweet afterglow of an orgasm.

Even as she had that thought, Trove grabbed her neckline in both hands and, with a single, hard jerk, ripped the entire thing in half.

Chee gasped, surprised to find her nipples suddenly exposed to the air. But before she could grasp what just happened fully, he was grabbing her pants and yanking them down off her legs. Her shoes, her pants, they hit the ground at the same time he was grabbing her legs and pushing them apart and returning to her.

He didn’t give her the same long, slow build up that he gave her last time. It was more like a full frontal assault on her pussy. He locked in on her clit like he had never been separated from it. No mercy, no teasing, he bit her labia, lapped at her entrance, and practically folded her in half, giving himself better access.

It was a shock to her system. One she was at least slightly prepared for, because she knew what was coming, but she wasn’t ready for just how harsh and vicious it was. How immediately he would take from her.

But it still wasn’t until her first orgasm that she finally understood.

Chee took care of herself. She had been saving herself for Trove, for the male she was going to love the rest of her life. So, when she masturbated, she’d bring herself to completion, enjoy the aftereffects, then move on with her life. She didn’t attack herself, she didn’t try to give herself sensory overload, she didn’t keep using her fingers to torment herself.

Trove did.

He attacked her clit like it offended him. He pressed his fingers against her entrance, purposefully stretching and stroking it, pushing her open for him. Slowly but so deliberately she couldn’t ignore what he was doing. And it didn’t stop when she came. He only redoubled his efforts, even as she wiggled and tried to get away.

The smack of his hand against her thigh, loud but not at all painful, made her cry out and jump, but he didn’t stop. He kept attacking her.

And that’s what this was. It was an attack. It was him assaulting her with pleasure for his satisfaction. For his own control. This was in no way about her. She was a vehicle for what he needed. For the emotions he was trying to work through.

The fact that it felt good was a benefit for her, not the point.

“Trove!” She yelled for him, her eyes rolling back as her belly cramped. Her hips were shaking, almost like she was trying to grind into his face and get away at the same time.

He wasn’t letting her come down. He wasn’t letting her relax. The endless assault was only extending the orgasm until the rush of ecstasy had a painful edge that brought tears to her eyes.

But he still didn’t stop. He slurped and licked at her until she was thrashing. Trying to pull back. To give herself some semblance of a break.

He didn’t let her.

And then, somehow, it got worse in the best way.

His fingers, in their slow plunge into her body, finally got deep enough that he could curl them upwards. And when he did so, she found out that she did, indeed, have a G-spot. And more than that, he found and massaged it like someone had given him instructions.

Her toes curled into hard knots until her lower legs were shaking.

It was never ending. He gave her no quarter, no mercy. And since it never eased off, she never got the space she needed to recover at all. He played with her body like it was a toy, just endlessly, ceaselessly, winding it up.

And he kept good to his word. He didn’t stop even when she was crying. He did more.

The massaging of his fingers inside her body began with him slowly penetrating in and out. Then that turned into him quickly fucking her with them. Slamming two, then three fingers into her, creating a wet, sucking, smacking sound that rang in her ears. She didn’t even know her body could make that sound.

Then, there was a new pressure. A very different, unfamiliar pressure. She was so overloaded, she had trouble even recognizing where it was coming from. Isolating it from the heated electricity burning her nerves to ashes was impossible.

But it was such a strange, unusual pressure. Almost painful. Unexpected. Unfamiliar.

Stretching. Pressing. Invading her ass.

He was pressing his thumb into her ass!

Chee gasped, but she couldn’t make words. Her mouth, open wide and trembling, couldn’t do anything but struggle to breathe. Her eyes were wide open, but she saw nothing.

He was breaking her, she realized. Absolutely destroying her.

And now she finally understood him. She understood why he did what he did. She understood why he reacted the way he did.

This wasn’t sex.