“Don’t fucking tell me what I want,” I hiss, squeezing his length in my hand. His hips thrust forward, and his chest rumbles in answer.
Before I can blink, I’m falling, but not from the tree. Cheshire abruptly lifts me and sits down on the branch before pulling me over his lap, stomach on his legs. My head spins as I face open air, and I clutch hard at the branch, Cheshire, anything I can hold on to.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Panic fills my body even as I feel his hands caress my ass, gentle touches that do nothing to curb my fear.
“I told you earlier I was going to punish you.” His words are so matter-of-fact, I lift up enough to give him my driest look. He chuckles as his tail flicks in the empty air and gently curls around my neck, like a feather boa.
“Dangling me fifty feet in the air is punishment?”
His hand swipes down, barely skimming, close enough to torture without touching me where I really want him to. That signature grin stretches across his face.
“That part isn’t the punishment.” And then his finger dips inside me again, and I gasp. My adrenaline from hanging so high, combined with the desire Cheshire strokes, makes my head spin. I grasp hard at the tree limb, my eyes sliding closed from the sensation. Slowly, so slowly, Cheshire strokes inside me. When he adds another finger, stretching me just a little wider, I relax a little more across his lap.
That’s my mistake.
The moment I relax, his fingers leave my core. Before I can groan, his hand comes down across my bare ass, and I cry out. I lift up again and twist, snarling. “What the fuck?”
His fingers go back to stroking me, as if he hasn’t just left a handprint on my skin. “Punishment,” he purrs, “can be so much fun.”
“I’m going to murder you,” I snarl, but the infliction is lost a little when he curls his fingers inside me again, and I moan. This time I’m ready for it when his fingers leave me and smack across the opposite cheek. When he circles my clit, I bite my lip hard.
I can feel his length against my waist, twitching as he plays with me, as he teases. In my position, I’m at a complete disadvantage, his arm locked around me, keeping me in place and keeping me from falling at the same time. Those traitorous fingers dip inside and around, never focusing too long on one spot, never letting my orgasm build.
“I fucking hate you,” I growl, a moan slipping out at the end. Cheshire leans down and bites me right on the ass, the sharp sting causing me to twist around. “Did you just bite my ass?” I ask, surprised.
“That’s not all I plan to bite.” Another smack.
“Enough,” I growl, completely wound up, my orgasm frustratingly out of sight. “Fuck me already.”
His fingers circle my back entrance, and I tense, hard, against him.
“Is it enough?” he purrs. “Do you crave more?”
“I crave you,” I admit, and I’m rewarded by another stroke inside me.
“What do you crave?”
“Everything.”
His fingers move in three sharp thrusts inside me, and I moan.
“You want everything, little goddess?” he hums, one long caress.
“Yes,” I breathe. His fingers begin to thrust inside me, slow at first, gaining speed until it’s both pleasure and pain, ecstasy and agony. My lower belly tenses, and I cry out, my legs shaking with the feelings.
“Tell me what you want,” he growls, leaning down and biting my cheek again. “Tell me.”
“You,” I cry, clutching madly at the tree, my body growing both tense and liquid as my orgasm swells inside me.
“Say my name.”
Nice try, I think, but I can’t say that out loud. The pleasure is too much as his fingers continue to slam inside of me, bringing me higher and higher until I’m a mess of nerves. He chuckles at my non-answer but doesn’t slow. Thank God, he doesn’t slow.
“Come for me, little goddess.” The words are a deep rumble, his pace never slowing as he brings me to the edge, and I crash down over it. I groan as my body shakes, my core gripping his fingers as he slows his punishing hand. He slips his fingers free and lifts me, setting me on his lap so that my legs straddle his, and then he’s pushing inside me, slowly, achingly slow. I contract around him as he sets me on his cock, panting hard, my hands clenching onto his shoulders.
“Fuck,” I moan, my feet dangling over the sides of the branch. I won’t be able to get any purchase like this, and he knows it.
“So beautiful,” he groans, leaning forward and pulling my nipple into his mouth. I grind against him, the best I can do, and we both tense. He lets my nipple go with a pop before nipping the underside of my breast. I throw my head back as his hands lift me the smallest amount before dropping me down again. “So perfect.”
Cheshire licks a trail up my chest to the sensitive skin where my shoulder and neck meet, nipping at the spot where he’d marked me last time. The mark is gone now, faded away, and I clench around him at the reminder as he kisses the spot.
This time, when he lifts me up, he thrusts up into me. I gasp as he repeats the action, the sound of our skin slapping together turning me on even more.
“Won’t you say my name, little goddess?” he whispers in my ear, his lips trailing kisses. I turn my head to the side to give him better access, threading my hand through his hair to touch his ears.
“Say mine, first,” I manage, grinding down.
“Always a competition,” he chides.
“Put us on the ground, and I can give you a real competition.” My voice is so breathy, it sounds like one long moan even to my own ears.
“Then I lose my advantage.” As if to show me that advantage, he lifts me and slams me down again. I lose what little breath I have. “I like you like this, helpless, at my mercy.” His tail trails across my nipples, and I lean back a little further, keeping my hand locked in his hair.
“If you think I’m helpless, you don’t know me that well,” I groan, bracing my other hand against the branch behind me and using the leverage to lift my hips and roll.
Cheshire smirks and keeps a hold of my hips, continuing the roll for a moment before he lifts his left hand and grabs my hair. His grip is gentle but forceful as he brings me forward again and presses his lips against mine. I accept him completely, opening my mouth, so his tongue can sweep inside. He lifts my hips and grinds me down with one hand, the feelings intense as he kisses the life out of me. I’m certain I’m going to die in this moment, even if I’m going with a smile on my face.
I spread my free hand over his chest, right over his heart, before I break the kiss and lean down. It’s my turn to nip his skin and lick my way to that sensitive spot he likes to mark on me. I don’t give him any warning. I bite down, hard, and a savage snarl tears from his lips. Both of his hands grip my hips before he powers into me, over and over again. I scream even with my teeth clamped around his muscle, even as I tighten and tumble over the edge again, my eyes closed tightly against the waves of pleasure flowing through me.
Tingles jump along my body in that moment, spreading along my skin. When I open my eyes, we’re no longer in the tree. Instead, we’re on the forest floor, on a bed of leaves. He’d Faded us. Cheshire doesn’t give me time. I’m still milking him when he flips us so that I’m on my back. His claws come out, and he buries one hand in the soft earth. The other wraps around my neck. I curl my legs over his shoulders before he thrusts into me again.
I scream out in ecstasy as he powers into me, bruising, feral, but I accept it all. I accept everything he has to give.
“Say it,” he snarls, his face stretching with his intensity. “Say it!”
I can’t speak if I want to. Hell, I can’t even catch my breath.
I cry as he lifts my hips higher in answer, his cock hitting the spot inside me that tightens my whole body, another orgasm building fast after the last one.
His fingers squeeze around my neck, barely restricting the flow, before letting go to wrap around my thigh. The dried leaves dig into my bac
k, but I hardly feel them as I slowly begin to crack beneath this man, my heart beating hard in my chest.
“Open your eyes,” he commands, and I obey without hesitation. He looks wild above me, his eyes slit like a cat’s, glowing so bright, I almost close my eyes against it. “You want the feral,” he grunts, “I’ll give it to you.”
Fur sprouts along his shoulders first, spreading, revealing the stripes, hiding the mark I’d left on his skin. His claws sharpen as he pushes my legs up, never slowing his brutal pace. I watch that fur travel down, down, until he’s above me, giving me everything.
I shatter around him, my core clamping down hard on his length as he pumps inside me with three sharp, bruising thrusts, and snarls his release. He spurts inside me, warmth spreading as he twitches, before collapsing on top.
His weight is heavy, comforting, my body like jelly beneath him. We stay connected as his fur slowly fades, his claws slip away, and his eyes return to their normal electric. He lifts up the barest amount, meeting my eyes fully, a tiny smile on his lips. I lean up to kiss his chin, my breath sawing in and out of my chest. Delight flashes in his eyes, his smile widening, as he says the one word that makes my heart stop.
“Calypso.”
Chapter 39
Finding our clothes proves a little more difficult than expected. Cheshire ends up having to scale the tree to retrieve our shirts, both hanging in the branches and swaying with the phantom breeze. I watch his muscles ripple as he moves up the tree without hesitation, moving with such swiftness it takes my breath away.
I strap the belt to my hip that the Hatter had made me, the weight of it comforting now, the Vorpal Blade singing as I keep it close. When Cheshire drops down in front of me in a crouch, before standing up with our clothing in his hand, I reach out with a smile to take my shirt and pull it on.
“Next time,” he purrs, “you should wear just the belt and the Vorpal Blade and pose for me.”
“Naked with a sword, got it.” I grin in answer.
His tail flicks back and forth behind him as he pushes against me, backing me against another tree. This one hisses, and my eyes widen, but Cheshire only thumps it on the side.
“Knock it off,” he growls at it. Surprisingly, the tree shuts up. I raise my brow at him in amusement, and he winks.
“I can handle my wood.”
I snort and kiss him quickly on the lips. Then, everything comes crashing back in, the battle, the threat, the role I have to play, and the pressure bears down on me. Suddenly, I feel like I don’t have enough time. Before I can catch it, before my brain computes and warns me about the stupidity of my words, they slip out.
“I love you, Pussy Cat.”
I clamp my lips shut, but it’s too late. I know it’s the wrong thing to say as soon as they leave my lips. Cheshire tenses against me and stumbles back and away. I feel so cold so fast, that I actually shiver. I fight the urge to reach out, knowing that he would back away more. It’s always a bad idea to corner a feral creature. Cheshire is no different.
“Don’t,” he says, shaking his head. His face looks pained as he meets my eyes. “Don’t do that to yourself.”
I swallow past the thickness in my throat, trying to calm my frantic heartbeat. This moment, this is the moment that everything could change.
“I’m not telling you because I expect you to say it back,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to tell you at all.”
“So, you didn’t mean it?” For a moment, both relief and pain cross his face, and I cringe. For a moment, I consider saying yes, that I didn’t mean it, and make it all go away, but then that would be a lie. That would make me a coward, and I’m the savior. A savior can’t be a coward. It’s in the unwritten rules.
“I didn’t say that. I just said I didn’t mean to say it.”
Suddenly, anger replaces the panic on his face, and he takes a step towards me again.
“You don’t love me,” he snarls. “You can’t.”
Something about Cheshire and me always dances in anger. In answer to his, my own fury flares up, and I bristle hard.
“Don’t tell me how to feel, Cat.”
“You don’t love me.”
“I’ve dated enough assholes to know the difference between wanting to fuck someone and wanting to do it forever,” I growl. “You saying it isn’t true doesn’t make it any less true.”
“That’s the worst idea you’ve had.” There’s so much pain in his voice that I want to take a step forward. Instead, I push back harder against the tree, until the bark bites into my skin.
“Don’t you think I know that?” I whisper. “Don’t you think I’ve agonized about this very thing? Don’t you know me enough by now to know that I fought against it every step of the way? But it didn’t matter. I still fell for you, even with your asshole attitude and your annoying need to push me away. It didn’t matter, because it still happened. I’m not asking for you to love me back,” my voice trails off, because that’s a lie, too. I want Cheshire to love me back. I need him to. Instead, I say, “You don’t have to say it. This doesn’t change anything.”
His claws slide free as his hands clench, drawing blood from his own palms. It drips to the forest floor in bright splashes of red.
“It changes everything.” He grimaces. “Everything.”
I straighten, growing serious, blinking against the tears that threaten to fall out of anger and pain.
“You’re right.” I watch Cheshire, his breath heaving in his chest, pain written across his face, his blood drip, drip, dripping to the dead leaves. “You’re right.” I hold out my hand in front of me. It shakes, my own heart beating a rapid rhythm in my chest. I can feel it in my ears as he looks at my outstretched hand and then back to my eyes. “So, let’s tackle this together. You and me. No expectations. No commitments. We can just see where it takes us.”
The shaking in my hand grows worse when his eyes flick back to my hand, the shake travelling all the way through my body, until I feel as if I’m drenched in a cold sweat. I’m not forcing him to choose, I’m asking him to stay open, to just give it a chance, to not push me away. I don’t say anything as he stares at my fingers, as the look of longing passes his face, but he doesn’t reach out.
I don’t dare speak, waiting for him to decide, waiting for his palm to slide against my own.
His eyes flick up to mine one last time, so much agony written there, and I know his answer before he speaks.
“I can’t.”
Slowly, he Fades away, leaving me there with my arm outstretched, in a dangerous forest I don’t know. My hand drops back to my side, and the first tear falls.
He left me in the woods, far from home, with my heart flayed open.
Chapter 40
I don’t know how long I stand there, uncertain about which way to go, but it turns out, I didn’t even need to start walking. As if by magic, creatures surround me, dressed in armor numbered by suits of cards, their faces smooth. Then one of them opens their mouth, and I look away, too freaked out by the teeth there.
When Alice strides from between the trees, I tense, but I’m not surprised.
She’s wearing a bright-red dress, crystals sewn into it so they catch what little light there is in the forest. It hugs her curves down to her knees before flaring out in a dramatic swoop. Her hair is messier than I expected, appearing brittle and dirty. Dark circles mar her normally ethereal face, her lips chapped and bleeding.
Alice tsks, looking me up and down. “Awww, did Cheshire leave you here all alone?” I don’t answer. I don’t ask how she knew Cheshire was the one with me. She glances behind her at the Cards and points at me. One of them storms forward and slides the Vorpal Blade from its sheath. He doesn’t use his bare hands. He wraps it in a thick cloth before putting it away. I don’t resist. I’m connected to the blade now. “Silly cat doesn’t care for anything,” she glances at me again, “or anyone.”
I don’t speak, focusing on Alice and Alice alone.
“Oh,” she
coos. “This should be fun.”
With a snap of her fingers, the Cards point their weapons at me, jagged spears and clubs with nails sticking out of them. The weapons have never been cleaned, bits of gore still hanging from them, splatter across the handles.
“Come along, girl. I have plans for you.”
I don’t really have a choice. One of the Cards pokes me with his spear. I growl at him but move, following along dutifully. I can’t take on this many people, no matter how certain I am that I can fight. Hatter’s biggest lesson was knowing when to strike. This isn’t that time.
They march me through the forest, the trees visibly shrinking away from our party. Not once do the roots rise to trip any of us. We move in the opposite direction I’d pictured the Hatter’s house, and the further we move, the surer I am that I can feel the pull back there. Unfortunately, we’re moving away from the feeling, and I start to wonder how anyone will even know I’ve been captured. Will they rally the forces? Or continue on as usual, wondering where I went?
Alice doesn’t walk. A queen never does, I suppose. Before we get too far, a Bandersnatch bounds out of the trees and lowers itself to its haunches, allowing her to climb on and sit sideways on the beast. It doesn’t shriek once, completely under Alice’s control.
She leads us along a pathway through the forest, the ground a dark-red color that I fear is probably blood. When the grotesque creations start, I barely hold down my vomit. Bodies are strung everywhere, crucified, hanging, and the smell makes me gag. Alice only smirks when I barely hold it down. The bitch thinks all this death is funny.
When the heads start, I have to look away, focusing on the blood-covered ground rather than the scenes around me. The first ones were just skulls, but the closer we get to our destination, the fresher they get. I suddenly realize why the Red Queen says, “Off with their heads” in the story books back home.
The castle from my vision comes into view moments later. I’m not surprised by the sheer size of it, nor am I intimidated. I rightly assumed she would bring me here. I’m also assuming she won’t kill me right away. Alice’s strongest weakness is her pride. She’ll want witnesses for my death, want everyone to see Wonderland’s last hope slain.
Feral as a Cat (Sons of Wonderland Book 3) Page 19
