Chapter 57
Aric
POPPY IS EVERYTHING. IN THIS moment, she’s all I can see, all I can feel, all I know.
Her body moves with mine, and every sound she makes—every gasp, every sigh—goes straight through me and right to my cock, making it harder and harder to hold back.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders, holding on like I’m the only solid thing in a spinning world, and I want to be that for her.
I want to be her rock. I want to be everything she needs.
I kiss her again, trying to pour everything I’m feeling into it—all the love, all the gratitude, all the desperate need I feel to make this perfect for her. Her first time. She’s giving me this precious part of her, this trust, and I’m determined not to waste it.
“You feel so good,” I murmur against her lips, my voice rough, my fingers circling her slick clit as I thrust into her. “So perfect, Brains.”
She makes a sound that’s half laugh, half moan. “Don’t call me that right now.”
“Why not?” I ask, smiling and nipping at her bottom lip, which is swollen from all our kissing. “You’ll always be my brilliant girl.”
“Aric—” My name comes out breathless, and her body tenses and trembles beneath me.
That alone almost makes me cum, but I grit my teeth and hold back.
Not yet. Her first. She cums first.
I adjust my angle slightly, guiding my cock into her tight pussy, and she gasps, her back arching off my mattress, her small tits pressing into my chest.
“Tell me what you need,” I whisper against her ear, still circling her clit with my fingertips. “Tell me how to make this good for you.”
“It already is,” she gasps. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
I’m not perfect. Far from it. But the way she looks at me—the trust in her moonlit lavender eyes, the flush across her warm brown cheeks, the way her lips are parted with pleasure—makes me want to be.
I start to fuck her faster.
Poppy’s breathing gets shallow, more desperate, and her fingers slide into my hair, tugging it free of the topknot and making me groan.
“Aric, I—” She breaks off, her eyes going wide.
“I know,” I say, recognizing the signs of her mounting climax even through my own haze of pleasure. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
I press my cock deep inside her and circle her clit one last time. And then it happens.
She comes apart in my arms with a moan, her whole body tensing before shuddering beneath mine. The walls of her pussy spasm around my cock, squeezing me even harder. And watching her—feeling her cum with my dick inside her—is enough to shove me right over the edge with her.
Pleasure crashes through me. I cum—hard—bellowing so loud I’m sure it echoes up the entire east tower. My balls squeeze and pulse, and I let out everything I’ve built up, finally feeling a sense of relief settle over me.
I’ve wanted to be with her like this for so long.
I bury my face in her neck, breathing hard, trying to remember how to form thoughts while my body still trembles with aftershocks.
When I can finally think again, I realize I’m probably crushing her. I start to move away, pushing myself up, but she makes a small sound of protest and tightens her arms around me.
“Stay,” she whispers. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper, letting my weight settle more carefully on her, feeling the rapid beat of her heart fluttering against my chest.
Our breathing gradually slows together, synchronized, and I press a kiss to her temple, then to the soft skin beneath her ear.
“You okay?” I murmur.
She nods, but then I feel wetness against my shoulder. Tears.
I immediately pull back to look at her face. “Did I hurt you? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” she says quickly, but tears are streaming down her cheeks, catching the moonlight. “I’m fine. I just—” Her voice breaks. “It’s just a lot.”
Relief floods through me, but I’m still concerned. I brush the tears from her cheeks with my thumb, gentle as I can be. “Talk to me, Brains.”
“I feel everything,” she whispers, more tears falling. “And it’s overwhelming, and I just—I love you so much, and I trusted you with this, and you were so careful with me, and—” She lets out a shaky laugh, voice wet with tears. “I’m not making sense.”
“You are,” I assure her, my own throat feeling tight. “You’re making perfect sense.”
I carefully withdraw and roll to the side, immediately pulling her against my chest and wrapping my arms around her. She burrows into me, her face pressed against my shoulder, and I cradle her while she cries, her body trembling in my hold.
“Thank you,” I murmur into her hair. “For trusting me.”
She sniffles, then pulls back to look at me. Her eyes are still wet with tears, but she’s smiling. “It was exactly what I always dreamed it would be.”
I kiss her forehead, her nose, her lips. “I love you,” I say between kisses. “I love you so fucking much, Poppy Waverly.”
“I love you too,” she whispers back.
We lie there for a while, just holding each other, our breathing evening out. I should probably get up, clean us both up, make sure she’s comfortable. But I can’t quite make myself move. Not when she feels so right in my arms, her body warm and soft against mine.
Eventually, though, practicality wins out—and it’s starting to get cold in here. I need to light a fire. “Stay here,” I murmur, carefully disentangling myself from her. “I’ll be right back.”
She makes a sleepy sound of agreement, and I slip out of bed, immediately missing her warmth. I toss the used protection away, then find a clean cloth and wet it in a small basin before returning to the bed.
“Poppy,” I say softly, and she blinks up at me with sleepy eyes.
Being as gentle as possible, I help her clean up, hyperaware that she might be sore. She winces once, and guilt twists in my gut.
“I’m sorry,” I say immediately.
“Don’t be,” she murmurs. “I’m just tender.”
I glide the cloth along her skin, wiping the sweat from our bodies.
When we’re both clean, I toss the cloth into my laundry basket, then go to light a fire in the hearth.
It flickers to life with a bit of coaxing from my fire magic, and warmth washes over me.
The room is small, so it’ll heat up fast.
I climb back into bed, pulling the blankets over us both. Poppy immediately curls into my side, her head on my chest, one leg hooked over mine.
“Comfortable?” I ask, running my fingers through her hair. The silver hairpin is still there, the blue gemstone in the center catching the moonlight.
“Mm-hmm,” she hums, already sounding half asleep, her hands curled up under her chin.
I press a kiss to the top of her head. “You should sleep. It’s been a long night.”
“And a good night,” she mumbles. “The best night.”
“Yeah,” I agree softly, smiling to myself. “The best.”
Snow is still falling outside the window, visible in the moonlight, coating the world in white.
The castle is quiet except for the distant sound of wind and the occasional groan of old stone.
The ball must not be over yet, or I’d surely hear other students returning, their doors slamming in the stairwell.
But I don’t care about anyone else. Because here, in my small dorm room, I’m holding the girl I love. The girl who trusted me with something precious. The girl who makes me want to be better, do better, try harder.
“Aric?” Poppy’s voice is barely a whisper, heavy with approaching sleep.
“Yeah, Brains?”
She wiggles closer, our skin pressed together beneath the blanket. “I’m glad it was you.”
My throat goes tight, and I have to swallow hard before I can respond. “Me too.”
A short time later, her breathing deepens, evening out into the steady rhythm of sleep.
The fire flickers in the hearth, casting dancing shadows on the walls. And as I lie there, watching Poppy sleep in my arms, I think that I’ve never been happier than I am in this moment.
I love her. She loves me. And somehow, despite all the ways we nearly ruined everything, we found our way here. Back to each other.
My eyes grow heavy, and I let them close, still holding Poppy close. The last thing I’m aware of before sleep claims me is the feeling of her breath against my chest, warm and steady, and the knowledge that everything is exactly as it should be.