Page 75 of The Librarian’s Familiar

“You’ll find the thread,” August said, but even his mate sounded unconvinced.

He nodded. He wasn’t sure. While he said he only needed to find the thread, it was slightly more complicated because if the witch was any good, they’d be aware that someone was messing with their magic. Then it would come down to who was the strongest and moved their magic the fastest. His was not a good magic to be fighting with—he’d learned that during various Coven training exercises.

Sure, it was destructive, but the destruction wasn’t instant.

For that reason, his magic was often lumped in with things like psychometry and mind-reading. They were useful, but not when your back was against the wall. At least if he was telekinetic, he’d be able to turn one of the pebbles into a projectile.

August took the cup out of his hand and gave him a nudge toward the tent. “Go on.”

It felt wrong to be going to sleep when he should be doing something, but there was nothing he could do because he’d been trying and failing. And if he’d found a thread, would he have kept going? Pushing himself past the point of exhaustion?

It was better to rest now and try again later.

He stripped down to his underwear and slid between the sleeping bags, which August had unzipped and turned into one big bed. He was not subtle, but then perhaps it was rather hard for a polar bear shifter to be. Or maybe after years of pretending, August had dropped his guard. If that was the reason, he was glad.

August crawled into the tent, zipped it up, and started undressing. “We’ll be warmer if we cuddle up.”

Charlie smiled. “I’m not sure if you want to cuddle or if you want to make sure I don’t destroy the bond in my sleep.”

“Both. I like sleeping next to you, and I like being your fated mate.” He shucked his pants and slithered under the top sleeping bag with more grace than was fair. He pulled Charlie closer. “I can feel your worry.”

“And you’re not?”

“I am choosing to believe that whatever happens, we will survive. The alternative is rather bleak.”

Charlie rolled over to face him. “Ugh. Can you turn out the light? It’s right in my eyes?”

“Then I won’t be able to see you.” He kissed him, his lips and tongue moving slowly as if they had all the time in the world.

Charlie closed his eyes, giving in. It was much easier to believe that August was right and that breaking the bond was an unnecessary risk. Maybe this time it was meant to be. Maybe the other times had also served a purpose, one he’d been too afraid to examine or acknowledge.

August’s hand slid over Charlie’s hip, dragging him closer until he felt the hard length of August’s dick pressing against his belly.

“I don’t want to make a mess of the sleeping bags.” He murmured against August’s lips.

“Already thought of that.” He rocked his hips, grinding against him.

“Aside from the fact we’re both still in our underwear, I’m not sure where this is going.” He did not like wearing sticky briefs.

“I didn’t pack the hand towel to keep our hands dry.” August reached overhead and produced the towel.

“Oh.” What else had he packed? Was he going to whip out some lube, too?

August dropped the towel between their chests. “So are you okay to continue?”

His dick demanded to be touched. Part lust and part fated mate bond that made him crave his mate. He knew the reasons behind the desire, and he didn’t want to fight. If this was his last night on Earth, he wanted to enjoy every moment of it.

He didn’t answer, just slid his hand into August’s boxer briefs and grasped his dick. August’s beard rubbed against his jaw as they kissed and groped. Charlie hooked his leg over August’s to gain some leverage.

Leaving the light on was a good idea. He liked seeing his mate’s pale eyes darken with lust. Liked the way he glanced down to watch as Charlie stroked them both.

With every touch, the bond strengthened from a few threads to a rope to many strands, binding them closer until he was sure that he felt what August was feeling and how much he wanted to come on him, mark him with his scent.

It wasn’t his thought or his desire, but it still pushed him over the edge. His balls tightened as his climax raced up his spine and he came, mostly on his hand, slicking his strokes.

He changed the angle a little. “Cum on me.”

August inhaled sharply and thrust into Charlie’s hand twice more before his cum splashed on Charlie’s stomach and chest. August captured his lips as if determined to make sure Charlie knew he was his.