Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Alice
Darius slid his hand behind my neck and pulled me close again. His kiss deepened—slower this time, more deliberate. Heat pooled in my chest, spreading lower.
Then his weight shifted. He rolled me gently onto my back, never breaking the kiss, his body hovering over mine. I met him without faltering this time—my muscles steady, my body no longer betraying me.
He slipped his hand beneath my shirt. When his palm found my breast, I groaned, arching into his touch. My hands roamed over his back, feeling the muscles tense beneath my fingers.
His breath hitched, and not in the way that made heat curl through me. He was still exhausted, still recovering, still pushing himself far past what his body could handle.
A knot tightened in my throat. I wanted him—gods, I did—but not like this. Not if it meant hurting him.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I mumbled against his lips. “You’re not well enough.”
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. That smoldering heat was back, burning through the exhaustion, the poison, everything.
“Watch me.”
It hit me like a wave: want and fear tangled so tight I couldn't separate them. I should pull back. I didn't.
He rolled up my shirt, the cotton fabric bunching around my collarbone, and his warm mouth found my breast. I gasped at the sudden contrast between the cool air and his heat. His tongue traced slow, deliberate circles around my nipple, each movement sending electric currents down my spine.
I arched my back, pressing myself further into his mouth, surrendering to the sensation. Every wall I'd built, every guard I'd held in place—gone. And god, it was a relief to stop fighting it.
My fingers found their way to his hair, thick and soft between my knuckles, and I gripped it tightly, anchoring myself to him as waves of pleasure washed over me.
His voice dropped to a husky whisper against my collarbone. “I want you,” he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers across my skin. “I want to claim you as mine.”
My heart stuttered. Every nerve ending in my body screamed yes—a desperate, aching yes that had nothing to do with logic and everything to do with the hollow place inside me that had been waiting for exactly this.
“Darius,” I managed between shallow breaths, my fingers tangling in his dark hair. “Are you...are you sure about this?”
His only answer was a trail of deliberate kisses down the center of my body, his lips lingering over the sensitive hollow beneath my ribs. My back arched involuntarily as he hooked his fingers beneath the edge of my underwear, drawing them slowly down my trembling thighs.
He got off the bed and pulled my panties off. Cold air rushed over me, and I shivered. A flicker of self-consciousness tried to surface, but then his eyes met mine—dark, hungry, reverent—and it burned away. I wanted him to look.
Darius stared down at me, his silver eyes darkening with a hunger that made my breath catch. He peeled off his shirt, revealing bronze skin and lean muscles that caught the torchlight, gleaming like polished metal where a thin sheen of sweat coated his torso.
As he moved over me, I traced my fingertips across the ridges of his abdomen, then higher, to the ink sprawled across his left pectoral.
His Mad Hatter’s hat—green and purple, every stitch and fold rendered in perfect detail.
Beneath my palm, it seemed to pulse with each beat of his heart.
I half expected it to shimmer or glow under my touch, to reveal some hidden magic.
He caught my exploring hand, his fingers closing around my wrist like he had every right to.
Like I was already his. He pressed his lips to each fingertip—soft, deliberate touches that sent shivers racing up my arm.
His mouth traced a path down the sensitive skin of my inner wrist as he shifted his weight, the cot dipping beneath us.
His tongue circled slowly around my nipple while his fingers slid downward, finding the slick warmth between my thighs with practiced precision.
I reached for him, my hands seeking the firm muscles beneath his waistband.
A sound I didn't recognize came out of me—desperate, raw.
I should feel exposed. I should feel something other than this aching need for more.
I squeezed the taut curves of his buttocks, feeling them flex under my touch. When I edged my fingers around to find the velvety weight of him, his deep groan vibrated against my chest.
That groan sent a surge of satisfaction through me. I did that. I made him lose control, even just a little. I wanted more—wanted to hear every sound I could pull from him.
Darius lifted his head, eyes half-lidded and dark with desire. “You’re killing me, girl,” he murmured.
He edged his way down my stomach, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses that made my skin prickle with goosebumps. His hands gripped my thighs, thumbs pressing into the sensitive flesh as he spread my legs wider. And then his lips were there, warm and insistent against my most intimate place.
The world shattered into white-hot fragments—a cascade of tingling warmth that radiated from my core to my fingertips.
I clawed the blanket until I heard threads snap.
His tongue traced deliberate patterns across my sensitive flesh, each stroke sending electric currents up my spine until I couldn’t help but cry out his name, my throat torn raw.
“I love hearing you call my name,” he murmured.
I threaded my fingers through his hair, feeling each silky strand slip between my knuckles as tiny pinpricks of light danced across my vision like a personal constellation. Every thrust sent heat spiraling through me, tighter, sharper, until I couldn't tell where he ended and I began.
My first orgasm gathered force like a tide rising against the shore, and when it finally crested, I threw my head back and cried out.
“I love making you scream,” Darius said as he moved up the narrow cot, the metal frame groaning in protest beneath our tangled limbs, the thin mattress dipping where our bodies pressed together.
A breathless laugh escaped me. I should have had some witty comeback, but my brain was still scattered, my body still humming. All I could do was sink into the cot as he moved up beside me, the metal frame groaning beneath our combined weight.
Without warning, he rolled away, leaving a void of cold air against my skin. His belt hissed through the loops of his dark pants, the buckle clicking against the stone floor. His movements were a blur of bronze skin and tensed muscles.
My body, still flushed and tingling from his touch, instantly mourned his absence. Goosebumps raced across my exposed flesh like a wave, and my nipples tightened into hard peaks against the chill.
I panted hard. He rejoined me, his body chasing away the chill. I dragged my trembling fingers through his thick, sweat-dampened hair, feeling the soft curls wrap around them.
The rough cotton sheets scratched against my bare skin as he spread my legs further apart, his warm palms sliding up my inner thighs, leaving trails of heat before he wedged his hips between them, skin burning against mine.
My fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer. I needed him inside me.
His eyes, silver as moonlight, locked with mine. “You’re mine, and I claim you, Alice Ravencrest.”
I couldn't speak. Could barely breathe. No one had ever wanted me like this—not just my body, but me. Alice Ravencrest. Broken pieces and all.
The words sank into places I hadn't let anyone touch—wounds I'd carried so long I'd forgotten they were still bleeding.
My throat tightened. I'd spent my whole life on the outside looking in.
Never quite fitting. Never quite enough.
And here was this mad, impossible man looking at me like I was exactly where I belonged.
Like I was home.
Warmth flooded into the hollow places inside me—the ones I'd stopped believing anything could reach. Jagged edges finally finding where they fit.
His hot breath tickled my skin as he planted slow, deliberate kisses down the curve of my throat, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
I slid my fingers between his legs, feeling the weight and warmth there, and a moan escaped my lips. “ And you’re mine, Darius Acosta—the Mad Hatter.”
He arched his back, muscles tensing beneath bronze skin as he joined our bodies in one fluid motion. I gasped, frozen by the sharp sensation that radiated through me.
But I followed his lead. The heat of his palms branded my hips as flesh slid against flesh, slick and wet in the flickering torchlight.
He claimed me with a branding kiss that I answered in return.
I gripped his shoulders tight as he rode me hard, a wild ride. Our hips rocked into a frenzy—fast and furious—as if desperate, desperate to mark each other. A stream of pleasure crashed over me with each movement.
I cried out, “Harder.”
He thrashed his hips forward with renewed intensity, his muscled thighs tensing against mine.
His cock plunged deeper with each thrust, the ridge of him dragging against that perfect spot inside me.
White spots bloomed in my vision like stars being born, and my fingers clawed at his slick back.
The orgasm built from somewhere deep and primal before gripping me entirely—a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, shattering me to the core and leaving me gasping his name into the hollow of his neck.
Darius slammed his hips harder against mine, his muscled body glistening with sweat in the dim light.
“I claim you as mine,” he growled. His release came in hot pulses as he collapsed onto me, his weight a delicious pressure, his hips still moving in shallow, involuntary thrusts against my trembling thighs.
Tears burned behind my eyes. Not from pain—from the unbearable rightness of it. He was mine. I was his. After a lifetime of belonging nowhere, I finally had somewhere to be.
I wrapped my legs around him, feeling the hard planes of his hips under my calves, my fingers digging into the taut muscles of his back.
“And you belong to me,” I whispered against his ear, tasting salt on his skin before capturing his mouth in a deep, languid kiss that spoke of possession and promise.
Every inch of me tingled from my scalp to my toes, like champagne bubbles fizzing under my skin.
His stubble branded my neck, my collarbone, the tender hollow between my breasts—rough velvet that left a trail of pink where he’d been.
No one had ever cherished me like Darius, whose touch made me feel like a treasure discovered after years of searching.
This was the belonging I’d always craved, now mine to hold.
I vaguely thought about Grump and the others walking in on us—the open cavern with its jagged stone walls and echoing ceiling offering no real privacy.
But I was tangled in his arms, my fingers tracing the scar on his shoulder, his breath warm against my neck.
And for the first time in my life, I was drowning in love—not the timid, hesitant kind, but the overwhelming, breathless sort that makes your heart pound so loudly you’re certain everyone can hear it.
Darius lifted his head, his silver eyes soft. “I love you, Alice.”
My heart forgot how to beat. Three words. Just three small words, and they undid me more completely than anything his body had done.
“And I love you,” I whispered.
I opened my mouth to say more, but he pressed a finger to my lips.
He shook his head, his body going rigid. “Someone’s coming.”