Chapter 20 Garden Parties, Illogical Games, and Lustful Flowers
CHAPTER TWENTY
GARDEN PARTIES, ILLOGICAL GAMES, AND LUSTFUL FLOWERS
The Garden party went off without a hitch. The sun sets above as Lewis and I slowly walk back toward the palace from the gardens. Still, revelry sounds from behind us, but the fun has grown far more titillating than I’d like to attend.
As if on cue, a sexual moan rends the air, causing me to smirk over my shoulder and Lewis to sigh.
“This place is quite magical,” I say, containing a sigh of my own, one filled with contentment I don’t know I’ve felt before.
“Hard not to get caught up in it, even with what’s on the horizon.”
“It is.” Looking around, I can’t help but wonder where Hatter got off to. I spotted him speaking to a large guard on the outskirts of the party, a teacup in his hand.
One nod of his head, with a wicked smirk playing on his lips, spiked a thrill through my veins, but when I looked again, he was gone.
“He’s in his chambers, no doubt,” Lewis said. “Out of respect for you.”
“Respect for me?”
“Yes. The queen’s garden parties are famous, if not for the things that happen at them, for the punch she serves. It’s somewhat of an… aphrodisiac.”
The throbbing between my thighs rises, and I press them together.
“So, that’s why I feel so…”
Lewis clears his throat. “Yes.”
We approach the back doors leading into the palace, and two guards open them, bowing to us as we pass and enter.
The shine to the checkered marble floors is duller tonight beneath the glow of the fire-lit chandelier above.
“So, Hatter is hiding from me?”
“I suspect he’s in your rooms,” Lewis says, turning toward me. His whiskers twitch as he smiles. “Have a good night, Eleanor. It was nice spending time with you again. It’s almost like old times.” Sadness bleeds through his eyes in the flickers of candlelight.
“You, too. Goodnight.”
Dancing my gaze up the stairs leading me to Hatter and my rooms, I swallow thickly.
If the state of growing arousal in me is anything like he’s feeling, I don’t know what I’m in for.
“I’ll lead you up, miss,” a deep male voice says, and I turn to find Cirius, the funny guard from the front gate, who doesn’t believe that I’m the right Eleanor, standing next to me.
He’s relieved of his armour, and in a tight-fitting pair of slacks and a button-up shirt, the two top buttons open and bursting from the breadth of his muscles.
“I can find my way.”
“That’s alright. I wanted to speak to you, anyhow,” he adds, offering me his arm.
We ascend the stairs in peaceful silence at first, and it’s growing increasingly uncomfortable by the time Cirius sighs.
“I know that this world is… new to you, and the task ahead of you seems daunting and near impossible, but I wanted to assure you that if you are the right Eleanor, you’ll handle it with dignity and grace.”
I scoff. “And you would know how?”
“Because you and I were friends once. I like to think we still are. We broke into the kitchens once to steal cookies. I was sure you would snitch on me when Cook found us, but you didn’t. It was the moment I knew you were made of sterner stuff than most.”
I stifle a giggle, thinking of my younger self with a friend like Cirius, a man who looks like a giant even compared to my current size.
“I don’t know how to fight, Cirius. What if Wonderland is asking too much? What if I fail them? What if I fail him?” I don’t have to tell Cirius who I’m speaking about; he knows.
Turning as we approach my door, he tucks fallen hair behind my ear.
“You could never fail Hatter. His love for you is made of the same ingredients that form the very heart of Wonderland. It’s beyond reason.
Besides, you have me in your corner. We’ll begin training tomorrow.
In a few weeks’ time, you’ll be ready to strike down any enemy that dares to threaten you. ”
A smile spreads across my lips, and tension releases as my shoulders drop. “You’ll have to go easy on me, Cirius. I don’t think I’ll look good with muscles like these.” I squeeze one of his arms.
Shaking his head, he bids me goodnight, and I’m left standing at the door with the same overwhelming feeling that I will come unglued if I don’t release another tension building in my body.
My skin is on fire, and my stomach bubbles with warmth.
How many glasses of punch had I had? Four or five, by my count, and that’s if I’m remembering correctly.
As I open the door, the world is a buzzing blanket of muddled confusion. Hatter is sitting on the end of the bed.
His head rests in his hands, and his leg is bouncing furiously.
“Hatter?” I say meekly, shutting the door softly behind me before clicking the lock.
His frenzied eyes meet mine as he moves with speed I didn’t know he had, backing me into the door.
“Where have you been?”
“What do you mean? I was at the party. I walked back here with Lewis, and then talked to Cirius about training, and…” I stop, taking in the wild, untamed look in his eyes. “Are you alright?”
I know he had punch. At least that’s what Lewis said, and if it’s making him feel anything like it is me, he’s got to be uncomfortable.
“Did you drink the queen’s punch?” I ask, trying not to grin.
“I did. I thought it would be… fun. I’ve never let loose before, and now that I have you…” The implication he’d partaken for my benefit hangs between us as his gaze snaps to my lips that tip up in a sinful smile.
“You drank punch so that you could come back here and fuck me?”
“Eleanor, language,” he snipes.
Turning the tables, I grab his shirt and turn toward him. His back hits the door, his breath grumbling out of him in a growl that skirts the edges of my nerves like a fiery blade.
“I’m not a girl anymore. I’m a woman. And I thought you liked my mouth.” Lowering said mouth to his throat, I slowly undo his buttons, feeling the potent punch shooting through my body rapidly now that my pulse is elevated.
He shimmies out of his shirt when I have it undone, and I skim my hands over scars and ancient-looking tattoos, causing him to shudder. His length presses into his slacks, calling to me like a mirage in the desert, promising to quench my thirst.
My hand skims his cock, squeezing the shaft as I tease him.
“I love your mouth,” he manages, his voice raspy and full of sex.
“I digress. Did you drink the White Queen’s laced punch to come up here and fuck me?” I ask again, this time while working his cock from his pants and shoving them down his lithe, perfect body.
“I did.”
“I like that,” I whisper against his lips, my hand working him in punishing strokes I can’t control as he rips my clothes off and backing me toward the bed.
“You’re leaving me tomorrow,” I whine against his kiss.
He captures my mouth again, and the urgency nearly shatters me emotionally, as the meaning bound in each whisk of his tongue has me choking on the reality of tomorrow.
“I am. I must. I can’t,” he stammers, lying me on the bed, and ogling me from above before dropping to his knees and pressing my thighs apart.
“You must,” I breathe in reminder.
His eyes scan the slit of my sex, growing heady. “So perfect,” he purrs.
Adrenaline spikes in my chest, and my heart feels like it’s going to leap out and travel back to Burrathurth with him.
There’s a weighty fog of desire clamping down on us, and it’s what I’m choosing to focus on. Not the goodbye tomorrow promises.
With that in mind, I sit up and fist my hand into Hatter’s hair. I hold him momentarily, locked in on his gaze. “I’m all yours.”
His lip curls as I tighten my hand in his hair. “Mine.”
Lust purls through me, and I shove his head where I desperately need him.
Hatter wastes no time. His tongue lashes over my clit, and two fingers spear inside me.
My grip on Hatter only tightens, his hair becoming my leash on reality, the insane reality where I’m fucking a Fae in another realm.
“Faster. Harder. Right there,” I spew, unashamedly riding his mouth.
Unfortunately, the queen’s punch proves lethal, and my first orgasm is already peeking its head from beneath the surface of the boiling waters inside me.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper, my mouth dropped open and my eyes hooded as I capture his gaze, his eyes tugging up to watch me come undone.
“Watch me come,” I moan, my control snapping as I shatter, screaming his name.
My screams travel out the open windows to join those below the palace. Dark revelry is painting the White Palace a deep shade of rouge tonight, and I’m happy to join in.
Hatter surfaces from my pussy, his mouth glistening and his eyes feral.
Crawling back on the bed, I create space for him between my thighs.
His mouth is hot and greedy when it takes mine, forcing me to taste my flavor on his tongue, which only makes me want more.
The way he thrusts inside me is animalistic.
He hikes one of my legs over his shoulder, creating a deeper angle and stealing my next breath.
“Fuck,” I squeak, feeling my body building toward another crescendo of pleasure.
Hatter turns his attention to my leg, where he sinks his teeth into my flesh. The bite of pain only adds to the ache building in my body, the one begging silently for him to give a reprieve.
“You feel so good. Damnit!” he growls, releasing my inner calf from his teeth.
My eyes are fixated on the mark he’s left behind, loving the carnal way he’s marked me before he leaves tomorrow.
He drops my leg and then his weight over me as he slows his pace. “I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.”
He’s going to come, I realize.
I’d grin if I weren’t so close to following him. “We don’t have to stop.”
Biting my shoulder, his body convulses as he comes undone, his movements becoming jerky.
They’re still enough to have me following him over the edge, whimpering as this one is as mind-blowing as the last was.
Hatter doesn’t stop fucking me. If anything, he doubles down.
Tossing a leg over his chest, I twist onto my knees, his cock never leaving my center as I get on all fours for him to sink into me deeper. Harder.
I need it.
I need more.
I need him.
I love him.
It’s the moment I realize I have to save Wonderland. I have to save him. I have to save his home.
I have to save mine.
Because he’s home.
Wonderland is home because he’s my fucking home.
A tear sheds down my cheek as Hatter grips my hips and drives deeper.
With my hands gripping the sheets for leverage, and tears falling down my face, I scream his name as we fuck long into the night, trying like hell to hold on to these memories for the coming strife.
For the coming separation.
“I love you so fucking much,” he roars, coming inside me for a second time.
“Hatter, language!” I scream, buckling once more.