The Mad King (The Dark Kings #1)(92)

“That would be nice,” he agreed.

“Or maybe”—she batted her lashes and continued her fingertip exploration, circling his navel—“I should kiss you here.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Or...” She grabbed him, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Maybe here.”

His eyes squeezed shut as his head jerked. “Oh gods, Alice. Yes, please, yes.”

Her mouth watered and she scooted back on her heels, unable to wait another second. She brought him to her mouth and brushed her tongue against his slit. He jerked so hard, he nearly pulled out of her grasp. Then his hand was framing the back of her head, guiding her to take his full length.

She took him in with a greedy gulp. His hips twitched, and she knew he wanted to shove in, but he was being patient. Gentle.

She loved him. She knew that now. She always had, there’d never been a question of that. Alice wanted to show him just how much.

Humming, she took him in to the hilt, loving the feel of his silken skin against her tongue. He started murmuring again, and her heart almost exploded from her chest.

“I love you, Alice. Oh gods, Alice, only you. It’s only been you. Never again. No more. Just you. You’re mine. Always, always.”

He was senseless in his ramblings, and she wondered if he even knew what he was saying. She toyed with him, pretending he meant each and every word. Pretending she was that precious to him, that loved and cherished by him.

His legs stiffened. “I’m coming, my love. You might want to pull away.” His words were thick, slurred with lust.

She shook her head, wanting everything he had to give. He shot in her mouth with a loud roar, and it was sweet and creamy. She swallowed with a happy little grin and wiped the back of her mouth with her hand.

He sat up, a look of utter astonishment on his face. “Alice.” He grabbed her, pulled her tight to him. “I... I...”

She never heard what he meant to say; he kissed her.

They stayed in bed for hours, eating, playing, making love. Discovering each other and themselves.

Hours later, sated—for now—they finally ventured from the bed. Hatter was dressed in his outlandish clothes again, and her heart beamed with pride.

“You know,” she said, “you’re all sorts of perfect.”

He smiled, and she saw pleasure in his eyes. “I want to show you something. Will you come?”

She nodded. “I’ll go anywhere with you.” Her hand slipped into his, and they were once again walking through the weird door that led nowhere and everywhere. Suddenly it dawned on her the door took them anywhere. When she’d first gotten here, had she really needed to travel through so many crazy twists and turns? Probably not. She smiled; her crazy, silly Hatter. He’d probably been trying to make her run off, scare her. Alice squeezed his fingers. But she wasn’t the giving-up type, never had been.

When he pulled her through, she looked around, expecting something grandiose, quirky... What she got was a dusty old workshop full of woodworking tools and machines.

His smile was radiant. “This is my refuge.”

He was looking around, and she was looking at him. So different from the moody Hatter she’d first met, now he was bouncing on his feet, gripping her hand like a lifeline while he waited for her to say something.

There were several unfinished pieces around. Something that looked like shelves sat on a far bench, and closest to her, a large chunk of driftwood with a scene etched into its side. She squinted.

The scene was a depiction of trees and nature, but within the copse of trees were rounded shapes. She smiled when she finally recognized it.

“That’s a carnival.” She looked at him. “Like the one on your wall the other night.”

His knuckled her cheeks, brushed against the corner of her lips. She kissed him, and his laugh was relaxed, easy.

Gone was the madness, the mayhem of irony, and the gloom of depression. “As a little boy, my mother used to take me to the fair.” His eyes shone. “I loved the rides, but most especially the giant wheel with lights. Round and round it went.” He shook his head. “I could have ridden it all night.”

She grabbed his hand, turning it over, finally noticing the thick calluses on his palm. She brushed her fingers over it and then brought it to her mouth and kissed each one. Such strong hands, loving hands. A true artist, he’d touched every inch of her with those hands.

She didn’t want to leave. Ignoring the heat starting to gather behind her eyes, she asked, “Why don’t we?”

He took her chin, lifting her eyes to his. “Alice?”

She shook her head and sniffed. “Why don’t we ride all night, Hatter? Eat cotton candy until we’re sick and can’t think anymore?”

He said nothing for a moment, and she knew he sensed her sadness. It was in the way his mouth thinned, his fingers clenched, but he nodded instead. “Yes. Let’s ride, Alice.”

They stepped outside the workshop and, as Alice knew there would be, a Ferris wheel sat tall and stately, waiting just for them.

He led her to a basket, and when they sat, the ride started of its own accord. Lively carnival music filled the woods, and it was so perfect, so wonderful, she wanted to cry.

Her heart was breaking.

This wasn’t fair.

He hugged her, pulling her to his side. The air was sweet with the scents of night.