Page 95 of Trove’s Purpose

“Is this okay?”

He considered the question for a moment before nodding. “I don’t mind this. I don’t mind you touching me in normal circumstances. It’s only during sex that I…”

He frowned and she squeezed his hand. “It’s okay. I understand.”

“I’ll get over it,” he said definitively, making her chuckle. He gave her a look. “You don’t think I can?”

“I know you can,” she assured him. “But it’s not like you’re trying to get over a fear of spiders or something. You can’t just force yourself to tolerate me.”

“Yes, I can.”

“I admire the confidence.”

“It’s going to happen,” he assured her. “I’ll figure out how. I just need to… figure it out.”

Chee laughed again. Honestly, admitting that he had a problem he needed to work through was probably the first step towards actually confronting it. She didn't think it would be as easy as he was determined to make it, but having that determination at all was a good sign.

After all, if a person didn't want to heal from their trauma, they could go through all the motions of it forever and never make a dent in it. He had to want to get through this. She didn't know much about the domini and their mental states, but humans couldn’t just force through things like that.

Regardless, she’d be here with him every step of the way. To hold his hand or not, whatever he needed from her at the time.

Chapter 31

Trove

Heava Yu was designed for people to come visit. Especially on this island, which was a wealthier tourist area, there was always something to be doing. Always something to see, to enjoy. There were parties every night and gatherings every day. They were a people that built their culture and economy on being a place for people to come and have fun, and they embodied it completely.

It hadn’t taken Trove very long to find something he thought Chee might enjoy. He’d been looking it up on his combot on their way down to deliver the painting.

Honestly, it was both harder and easier than he expected.

Easy because, as it was Heava Yu, there was an abundance of choices. A seafood cookout on the beach. An art gallery with native species displays. A theater showing a zero-G show. Boat rides, both for partying and relaxing. A low orbit restaurant that followed the sunset so there was always a stunning view. There were wildlife explorations for the flora and the fauna at different difficulties for all comers. A liquor tasting – he was really tempted by that one.

But that’s what made it hard though. He knew what he would be interested in. He didn't know what Chee wanted to do.

Trove knew how to please females, but only in one way. When it came to things aside from bed sports he actually didn't know what they enjoyed. He knew what his sisters enjoyed doing, but knowing Goldie liked studying medicine or that Haven liked tinkering was only something that he knew for them as people, not as something females in general would want to do.

And because he didn't know, because she was his mate, not just his pleasure partner, that made the choice that much more critical. He actually obsessed over it, made a decision, called himself stupid, then changed his mind.

Even now, as he walked her to the shuttle, he wasn’t certain of his choice.

But the one thing he was certain of was her.

He couldn’t fuck her like a normal mate would, and part of him was worried he never could. He at least wanted to bring her joy in all other ways. He wanted to please her not for himself, but because it made her happy.

But his issues with sex, everything that was wrapped up in it, were heavy. They were a burden he didn't want her to always be carrying.

So, when it came time for him to pick something for them to do, he picked something that had nothing to do with sex at all. Including the liquor tasting, as he knew that them becoming inebriated might lead to that. While he wasn’t opposed to spending another few marks between her thighs, and certainly he was happy to be back there, that wasn’t the only thing he wanted her for.

To that end, he picked-

“Is this paint ball?!” Chee asked, delight making her voice go up as she looked at what the event instructor was bringing in.

Weapons. Fake ones, anyway. But they still shot projectiles.

“They’re not paint,” he corrected as the bored male looked them up and down before going to grab their armor pieces. “They’re plasma sims.”

“We’re shooting each other with fake plasma fire?” She asked, whipping around to look at him with a wide, excited grin.