Chapter 60: He Made Her Something and Lost His Cool

Thorne was on his feet before Dove opened the door, but she caught his hand. "You are not fixing another roof with your fingers. We have just discussed the cost of being impressive."

He looked toward the yard, then back at her. "I’ll help from inside."

The damaged trailer held spare bedding, not people. The keeper sent a team of larger beasts along the guide rope to pull its loose awning clear. From the doorway, Dove watched Edrik shift into a huge white bear and brace the outer supports while two wolves dragged canvas beneath the falling snow. Nobody needed Thorne to empty himself again.

She helped pass dry blankets back into the diner. He stood beside her, taking each heavy bundle first so she could sort the contents. The supply loss was small, the keeper said afterward. There was plenty of food in the other trailers and the pantry, and tonight nobody was going hungry because one roof had finally given up.

They returned to their room after the keeper had the bedding moved to a dry trailer. Thorne ate another meal, drank ordinary water, and slept with Dove tucked against him. She kept the pool bottle separate, unwilling to turn one useful drink into an unlimited prescription.

Day Twenty-Five began with four folding camp chairs. Selling three paid twelve normal coins, and six fresh Favor unlocked a metal-shaping guide for eighteen. Dove washed with pool water, pulled on her thermal turtleneck and tactical pants, then stared at a chair. "I could have been sitting on this the whole time? My ass would like an apology." Sprout credited her new bonded tier and completed tasks for the larger stock.

When Sprout claimed her household had shown a need for the chairs, she pointed at Thorne. "My household needs him to stop nearly falling over, so start with that."

Four men bought the chairs, trading canned food, dried apples, cord, clean towels, and a sealed packet of crackers. One offered cinnamon as a gift, then forgot his next sentence when she bent to fold his chair. Her turtleneck stretched across her chest, and Thorne’s growl brought the man’s eyes straight back up. "At least pretend you’re interested in the furniture," Dove told him. She stored the new cord, finishing the daily storage task.

Thorne laughed quietly beside her. His delight when she called him her mate supplied the six Favor and the daily extra, bringing her to one thousand sixty-nine. The sales reward raised her normal coins from ten to twenty-two. All four chairs had sold, so no fee came out. The guide was unlocked, but she left it on the shelf. She was saving for a camping coffee pot. Thorne could practice with scrap while she worked on staying awake.

They agreed on small practice attempts after lunch, with food and rest between them. Dove told him that shaking meant stopping, even if the thing he was making looked almost finished. He asked whether she had secretly bought the guide. "No, I just happen to like you conscious," she told him. "Ridiculous of me, I know."

He had asked the keeper for scrap, and a narrow strip of clean metal lay beside his repair kit. Dove expected another buckle. Instead, he shaped two small feet and a hinged back into a stand just wide enough to hold her sales card upright.

Along its top, he began bending a little fox with a curling tail. Each small curve took more care than the simple hinge exercise. She saw sweat near his temple and put her hand on his wrist. "I love it, but I’d love it more if you stopped before you fell off the bench."

He stopped, ate bread with the last of their jam, and rested against the bench. When he tried to finish the final curl later, the strip shifted too quickly. He caught it, went very still, and set it down with both hands.

Heat rose in his face. His ears flattened, and he looked at her with such sudden, startled intensity that her own teasing answer disappeared before she said it.

She asked what was wrong, easing her hand away when he asked for room to catch his breath. Edrik, passing with the keeper, stopped at the sight of him and asked two quiet questions about the new power. Thorne answered, jaw tight. The bear said a few males with fresh abilities had reported sudden heat after pushing too hard, especially while newly bonded.

"Eat. Cool down. Don’t keep using the gift," Edrik said. "It passes. You don’t have to do anything else because it arrived at a bad time."

Dove appreciated him for saying that to both of them. Thorne took her hand only after she offered it, and they went to their room together while the keeper promised to keep callers away.

She sat beside him while he ate and let the rush settle. His hands stopped shaking. He answered her questions clearly, embarrassed by being watched when she had already seen him turn into an enormous cat and carry luggage in his mouth.

"This isn’t the strangest thing we’ve done this week," she reminded him, earning a slow laugh before he admitted he had only wanted to make her something.

She touched the unfinished fox. He had made something for her next counter, as though having a next counter was certain. That got past her jokes much faster than his shoulders, which was rude considering how hard those shoulders worked.

"I didn’t expect this," she admitted. "You. Any of it. Do you think I’m being slutty, falling for someone this fast?"

He looked surprised, then laughed softly when she poked his chest. "Many females choose on first meeting, for strength or looks. You made me wait to see whether I could hold a conversation without offending you."

She traced a finger along his collar, pleased that he remembered. "You also brought dinner, and you should never underestimate how much I liked the dinner."

"Some men at the Warren hated being passed over. That didn’t give them the right to treat you badly." His thumb warmed her knuckles. "Ash might be furious about wanting you himself."

"Ash? He looks at me like I tried to kill him. If that’s flirting, he needs someone to explain it to him again."

"I said might. He hasn’t told me." Thorne brushed his mouth over her fingers. "You don’t have to solve him tonight."

She was relieved enough by that to kiss him. When he asked if she was helping with the heat, she shook her head. He could eat, rest, and wait it out; Edrik had made that clear. She wanted him because she had been thinking about kissing him all afternoon, before his power decided to become dramatic.

"Then tell me if you change your mind," he said, drawing her close after she climbed onto his lap. She kissed him again instead of pretending she hadn’t already made it up.

"Relax, big guy," she purred against his mouth, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw copper. "Just gonna worship this god-tier body." Her hands slid down, palms scraping over tight black nipples. She pinched one hard and Thorne’s choked groan vibrated against her chest.

Dove grinned, teeth scraping the pebbled nub before sucking it deep, swirling her tongue in filthy circles. His hips bucked, that thick cock already straining against his pants like a trapped fucking python.

She peeled his fly open, buttons popping. No underwear, just that monstrous black shaft springing free, glistening at the tip.

"Fuck, Thorny," Dove breathed, wrapping her fist around the base. Veins pulsed under her fingers, thick as cables. "Always forget how you pack a fucking tree trunk down here." She spat right on the swollen head, slicking it shiny, then leaned down to lap it up with broad, sloppy strokes.

Thorne’s breath hitched.

Dove took him deep, throat stretching obscenely around that meaty girth. Fuck yes. She pulled back, spit stringing from her lips to his cockhead, and locked eyes with him. "Watch me," she ordered, voice thick. "Watch me suck this beautiful fucking dick dry." Her tongue slithered down his balls heavy sacs tight with need and she sucked one into her mouth, rolling it wetly.

Thorne shuddered, a broken whine escaping him.

She deep-throated him again, gagging around the thickness, tears pricking her eyes. His hips jerked helplessly, fucking her face in shallow thrusts.

Dove hummed, vibrations rippling through his cock, and felt his balls draw up. "Gonna cum?" she mumbled around his shaft, fingers digging into his thighs. "Do it. Paint my fucking throat."

He exploded hot, bitter ropes flooding her esophagus.

Dove swallowed greedily, throat working, milking every fucking drop. But she didn’t stop. Kept sucking, tongue massaging the sensitive underside, even as he whimpered, oversensitive. "Shhh," she soothed, hollowing her cheeks. "Gotta get that second load, big guy. You got more for me." Her hand pumped his slick shaft while her mouth worked the head, slurping noises loud in the frozen silence.

When he came again, it was thinner but just as fucking abundant. Dove drank it down like premium fucking nectar, licking his slit clean. Finally, she sat back, wiping spit and cum from her chin with the back of her hand. Thorne looked wrecked sweat sheening his black skin, chest heaving, eyes wide and dazed.

"Just wanted to treat you," Dove shrugged, patting his trembling thigh. His cock twitched weakly against his stomach, still half-hard. "You big, broody bastards never get spoiled enough."

Thorne just stared, throat working, like he couldn’t decide between hauling her off or begging for more.

Dove smirked. Yeah. Still not used to someone worshipping that beast-cock. She leaned in, nipping his jaw. "Next time, maybe I’ll ride it ’til you scream."

Long after they had turned the lamp down, the unfinished metal tail on the table curled smoothly into place. Dove saw it move from the bed, and Thorne went silent beside her.