Chapter 56
Poppy
THE CARRIAGE RIDE BACK TO the academy feels both endless and too short.
We sit close together on the plush bench, our thighs touching, the now-empty cake plates perched on the opposite seat.
Aric holds my hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my palm, and every touch sends sparks of anticipation through me.
Neither of us speaks. There’s too much energy humming between us, too much nervous excitement twirling through my veins. But when I glance up at him, I catch him looking at me with an expression that makes my breath hitch—and makes me wish the carriage would hurry up and get to the castle already.
When we finally roll to a stop in the castle courtyard, I’m trembling—partially from the cold and partially from my nervousness.
Aric helps me down from the carriage, his hand steady on mine, and then he wraps his suit jacket around my bare shoulders, and we hurry up the snowy steps toward the castle’s towering entrance doors. The night air is crisp and clean, snowflakes catching in my hair and on my eyelashes.
Inside, the castle is quiet save for the whisper of flames dancing in the chandeliers overhead and the sconces along the walls.
We don’t talk as we climb the stairs in the east tower, and I bite my lip while waiting for him to unlock his door.
He ushers me inside. The room is dark except for the light from the blue moon streaming through the window, painting everything in silver and shadow.
And then the door closes behind us with a soft click, and we’re alone.
I turn to face Aric, and for a moment, we just stand there, facing each other in the moonlight, my heart racing in my chest.
“Poppy,” Aric says softly, and there’s a question in his voice. He’s giving me another chance to change my mind, to say this is too much, too fast.
But I don’t want to change my mind. That’s the last thing I want.
I close the distance between us and kiss him.
He responds immediately, kissing me back as his hands come up to frame my face.
It starts slow—gentle exploration, soft sighs—but quickly deepens into something more urgent.
His hands slide from my face to my waist, pulling me closer, and I melt into him.
His length presses against my thigh through the thin fabric of my dress, making heat gather between my legs.
“Are you sure?” he murmurs against my lips, his voice rough. “We can stop anytime. Just say the word and—”
“I’m sure,” I whisper, looking up at him, at the way the silver moonlight strikes his hazel eyes, making them gleam. “I want this. I want you.”
He lets out a shaky breath, then kisses me again.
This time, there’s less restraint. He slides his jacket from my shoulders, then tosses it across the room, where it falls in a heap on the floor.
Then his hands begin roaming my body—down my back, along my sides, brushing my thighs—learning the shape of me as though he never wants to forget it.
I mirror his movements, my fingers exploring the solid warmth of his chest, the muscles of his shoulders, the sensitive spot just behind his ear that makes him sigh against my mouth.
We stumble toward his bed, still kissing. The backs of my legs hit the mattress, and I sink down onto it, pulling him with me. He follows, his weight settling over me, careful not to crush me but close enough that I can feel every inch of him.
“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel right,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Promise me.”
I nod. “I promise.”
But I have a feeling this is going to feel like the most right thing in the world.
One of his hands finds the lace of my dress, and he pauses, his eyes meeting mine in the moonlight. I nod, and he slowly—so slowly—pulls the lace free. The dress loosens, and I help him ease it off over my head, leaving me in just my thin chemise, my nipples hard through the satin fabric.
I’ve always thought I’d feel exposed during my first time, vulnerable. But when Aric looks at me, there’s nothing but adoration in his expression. And it makes all those feelings of wanting to hide fall away.
His fingertips ghost along my collarbone, down my arm, and across my hip bone. “You’re so beautiful.”
Heat floods my cheeks, but I don’t look away. Instead, I reach for the buttons of his crisp button-down shirt, my fingers fumbling slightly with nerves and anticipation. He helps me, sitting up to shrug out of the formal shirt, revealing warm green skin and a torso wrapped in muscle.
I press my palm to his warm chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath my hand, just as fast as mine.
“Are you nervous?” I whisper.
He nods, his tusks catching the moonlight. “I want this to be good for you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
I cup his face in my hands. “You won’t. I trust you.”
His expression softens at those words, and he kisses me again—deeper, hungrier, his body pressing mine into the soft mattress under my back.
His hands explore with more confidence now, and when he finds the hem of my chemise and begins to guide it up my body, I catch my breath.
Then he’s pulling it off over my head, and it slips to the floor beside the bed as his gaze shifts to my naked body.
Heat touches my skin everywhere his eyes move: my breasts as they rise and fall with my quick breaths, the dip of my stomach, the patch of wispy lavender hair between my legs.
“Your turn,” I whisper, drawing his eyes back to mine.
He doesn’t hesitate, wasting no time in standing and loosening his trousers, then dropping them with a muted rustle. His cock springs free, and I rise up onto my elbows to drink in the sight of him: his green skin, his firm body, the bob of his shaft as he takes a step toward the bed.
With one arm, he smoothly shifts me up the mattress until my head finds the pillow. Then he crawls atop me, and there’s nothing left between us but skin and shuddering breaths.
Gently, his lowers himself onto one elbow, his hard length pressing against my thigh, and he finds the hot place between my legs. Immediately, I gasp, arching my back and spreading my knees so his hand can cup me fully.
“I’m going to go slow,” he murmurs against my neck, his warm breath sending goose bumps across my naked skin. “We’ll take as much time as you need.”
I can’t find words, so I just nod. His lips begin trailing kisses along my jaw, my throat, my collarbone, and then one of his fingers slides inside me.
I moan, already wanting more, even though we’ve just gotten started. My eyes open, and I glance down along the length of our bodies, finding his cock hard and waiting, ready to push inside me.
“Aric,” I whisper, and it comes out like a desperate plea.
“I know,” he says softly. “I’ve got you.”
He adds another finger, stretching me further. As his fingers slide in and out of me, his thumb brushes my clit, and I bite my lip, the trembling in my body intensifying. I get wetter, and his fingers move inside me with more ease.
“I,” I gasp. “I think I’m ready.”
For a moment, he pauses, leaning up on his elbow to look me in the eyes. “Already? You’re sure you don’t wanna take more time?”
I nod. “Positive.”
He reaches for the nightstand beside his bed and pulls open the drawer, from which he produces a small packet. Protection. The practical part of my brain is grateful he thought ahead, even as the rest of me is too lost in sensation to care about anything except the feel of his body against mine.
And now I want to feel it inside mine.
I watch with some fascination as Aric rips the tiny packet open with his teeth and rolls the condom over the gleaming tip of his cock, then along his shaft until he’s fully sheathed.
When he’s done, he rises onto his hands and settles between my spread legs.
His cock finds my pussy, and he drags his tip through the wetness pooling there.
“Tell me if this is too much,” he says.
And then he gently pushes inside me.
The initial moment is sharp—a sting that makes me tense and gasp, my fingers clutching the blanket beneath me. Aric freezes immediately, his eyes searching my face with concern.
“Breathe,” he whispers, holding perfectly still, not trying to sink any deeper. “Just breathe. We can stop if—”
“No,” I manage, forcing myself to relax, to adjust to the stretch. “No, don’t stop. Just . . . give me a second.”
He nods, his jaw tight with restraint, and leans forward to press soft kisses to my forehead, my temple, and my lips while we both adjust. And gradually—slowly—the discomfort between my legs fades, replaced by something else.
Something that makes me shift my hips experimentally, drawing a groan from deep in his chest.
“Okay?” he asks, his voice strained.
“Okay,” I confirm, nodding my head where it’s still cradled by Aric’s soft pillow. “Keep going.”
So he does, carefully at first, watching my face for any sign of pain as he eases his cock deeper inside me. I catch my breath again, and he pauses, waiting for my body to accommodate his girth.
We do this over and over again, until finally, he’s buried inside me.
“You did it,” he whispers against my throat, and though I can’t see it, I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Can you do me now?” I ask, emboldened in the darkness as snow falls silently outside his dorm room window.
He chuckles, the sound a soothing vibration in his chest. “I’d love to.”
Aric shifts his hips, pulling his cock out of me slowly, then sinks it back in. Each thrust is smoother, and though I’m still stretched tight around him, the discomfort fades until I’m panting beneath him, grasping his broad shoulders, kissing him until I can’t tell where my lips end and his begin.
We move together, our bodies growing slick with sweat.
“Poppy,” Aric breathes against my neck, and my name has never sounded so sweet. It’s almost foreign to my ears. “Gods, Poppy.”
I can’t form words anymore, can only hold on to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders, my legs coming up to wrap around his waist.
His tongue drags along the column of my throat, making me whimper. And then he reaches between our bodies to touch my throbbing clit.