His dick springs free, and I wrap my hand around the base. Saint’s cock is longer than Malachi’s but not as thick, and the veins stand out starkly. Holding Saint’s gaze, I lean in to lick him from root to tip.
His eyes roll back at the sensation. “Fuck!” Saint shouts as his hands tunnel into my hair. He clenches the strands for a moment before abruptly letting go. “Sorry.”
I shake my head at him. “You’re fine, Saint. Hold onto me all you want. You won’t hurt me.” I wait for him to spear his hands through my hair tentatively before sucking the tip into my mouth. Swirling my tongue around the head, I lick and suck as I bob up and down on his length.
With each pass, I take him a little deeper until he hits the back of my throat. Breathing through my nose, I swallow around him as I gag a little. Saint’s hips try to buck, but he stills them, letting me set the pace. The tendons in his neck are turning white from how hard he’s trying to control himself. I pull back again. “You don’t have to be a statue, Saint. You can move your hips as much as you want. It won’t hurt me.”
His gray eyes flick between mine for a moment before he gives an experimental thrust. He bumps the back of my throat before quickly pulling back. When I don’t show any sign of being hurt, he grows braver. Saint starts using my mouth just the way he wants. He pushes in so deep my eyes start watering and I gag a few times, but I enjoy every second of it.
Saint’s hips buck unsteadily, and he clenches his jaw. “I’m close, Briar. Pull back if you don’t want me coming down your throat.” I don’t pull away. Instead, I take him as deep as I can and suck hard enough to hollow my cheeks. He groans my name as I taste his salty cum flooding my mouth.
I swallow it all down and lean back to look at him, but I don’t get the chance to do anything else because a wave of magic slams into me right after. The magic doesn’t hurt. It’s the opposite, actually. It flows through me like a shot of pure lust, and I feel like I’m hovering on the edge of the most intense climax of my life.
While the magic courses through me, my own magic rises up to mix with the invading energy. The two forces seem to dance playfully with each other for a long moment. Then the other magic leaves as abruptly as it arrived.
When I come back to, Saint’s kneeling down in front of me, my face cupped in his hands. He meets my gaze, looking stricken. “I am so fucking sorry, little shadow. I swear, I didn’t mean to. Oh, God. I’m so, so, so sorry.”
I cut him off before he can apologize any more. “What are you sorry for? And what just happened?”
He’s white as a sheet as he tries to figure out what to say. I’m a little worried he’s going to pass out with how distressed he is. “I formed the mate bond when I, uh, came. My magic came out at my heightened emotions and merged with yours. It was a complete accident, I swear—not that that makes up for it, but I am so goddamned sorry.”
“We’re mated?” I whisper, wondering if I heard him correctly. Mating for mages involves merging power together. After mating, a mage can share power with and locate their mate. It’s also a lifetime thing. There isn’t a way to break the mate bond, unless one party dies.
“Yes. I’ve never heard of a way to break a mate bond, but I will find a way to do it if that’s what you want. I never meant for this to happen. I’m so?—”
I press my lips to his before he can apologize yet again for something that’s not really his fault.
Breaking off the kiss, I cup his face in my hands. “I’m not mad at you, Saint, okay? There’s not a chance in hell I want to break the bond. Sure, I may not have chosen to bond with you today if we had the option, but I would’ve eventually wanted to. And this is your first time. Emotions are high, and stuff happens. It’s not the end of the world.”
I feel like I should be more freaked out about the accidental mating bond. I mean, yeah, it wasn’t exactly on my bingo card for today, but there’s always been an inevitability to my relationship with him. A part of me always knew we’d end up here. We both just thought how we’d get here would be different. Knowing the secret romantic Saint is, he probably had something super sweet planned for the perfect moment.
“Stuff happens?” Saint asks incredulously. “Briar, I just fucking tied you to me for the rest of your life. Without asking! That’s not just an ‘oopsie daisy.’ That’s grounds for you to permanently kick me out of your life.”
“Oh, Saint, there isn’t anyone in the world other than you and the Wyldharts I’d rather be accidentally tied to. You’re a good person. You’re strong, kind, loyal, and thoughtful. You’re the grown-up version of the boy I always wanted to marry one day.” My lips hitch up in a bittersweet smile as I think about all the daydreaming I did about my future with Saint when I was in Wolves Hollow—at least before I lost my memories and my mom.
Mages are the odd ones out in the supernatural world. They focus on marrying, generally for power, instead of waiting for a fated mate, like other supernaturals do. While my parents were fated mates, I grew up in a marriage-oriented mage town. I always assumed I’d marry someday. It never occurred to me when I was younger that Saint was my fated mate, so I dreamed of marrying, not mating, him.
“You wanted to marry me?” His voice is filled with hope and a bit of awe.
“Of course I did.” I look at him in disbelief. I followed him everywhere as a kid. How does he not know how much he meant to me? “I’ve been half in love with you for as long as I knew what love was.”
“Did I fuck it all up between us?” Saint stares at me with a mixture of guarded hope and dread on his face. “Do you still want me?”
“No, you didn’t fuck it up, Saint. And yeah, I still want you. A lot.” I crawl onto his lap and wrap myself around him. Accidentally mating me clearly has taken a toll on Saint, and I just want to comfort him. I run my nails soothingly over his scalp as he shudders in my arms. We sit there for a while as he tries to gather himself.
As the last rays of sunlight fade, Saint lets go of me and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, and I stand up. Shoving to his feet, he pulls up his jeans. Once he’s dressed again, Saint grabs his phone to check the time.
“Shit.” He glances up from his phone to look at how dark it’s gotten outside. “It’s already five thirty. We should’ve been there five minutes ago.”
I wince as I realize the Wyldharts are probably wondering where we are. Malachi and Xander are probably worried something happened to us. Pulling on my peacoat, I wait for Saint to put on his charcoal puffer jacket before heading out of our room.
I’m almost to the door when Saint calls, “Hey, Briar?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, little shadow. I’m sorry about how it went down, but I’ll never regret mating you. Ever.”
My heart flips in my chest at the unwavering conviction in Saint’s words. I only hope all the problems that I constantly cause won’t make him change his mind one of these days.