AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Removing my precious concealment from the dust cover, I toss the dictionary over my shoulder. The green felt has curled into itself, the outline of the hat no longer recognizable. No more feathers remain on the purple band, the last having withered and died around the same time my efforts to escape Charmsfield did. But it’s clear to me now, I never would have found my own way back to Wonderlust without help. I needed to beretrieved.
Tucking it into my cleavage and leaving Cash’s bedroom, I find both Tweedles sitting on the rounded armchairs. The cushions are so plump, neither can touch the floor and as much as they’re trying to maintain an angry façade towards each other, their legs swing in unison. There are so many questions to be asked there, but at some point, I realize it’s wholly none of my business. Curiosity killed the cat and all that jazz.
“Hey!” the smile twisting in the background deepens into a frown. “I resent that!” Ignoring it, I move to the coffee table and take a seat on top of it. Each table leg is a different height, the wood bending and dipping to accommodate. Lifting a teacup, I wriggle my ass into a groove and narrow my eyes at Tweed.
“This isn’t going to knock me unconscious, is it?” Tweed holds my gaze, the hint of a smile behind his full lips but it’s Cash who answers.
“That’s my tea and no, it’s not,” he grumbles. I point my pinkie high and take a sip. The burn of whiskey slams into the back of my throat, using my tonsils as a punching bag. “Will put hairs on your chest though.”
Spluttering, I toss the cup aside to cover my cleavage. He’d better be joking or the red queen won’t be the only one who sets head’s rolling today. Luckily, my skin remains smooth beneath my palms and I suck in an even breath.
The hem of the black vest follows the curve of my breasts, the soft cotton hugging my frame down to the army green cargos it’s tucked into. I found the baggy items left on Cash’s bed with a tag that instructed me to pull it once dressed. Always one to follow instructions, I yanked on that tag like a bell ringer and the material conveniently sucked inwards until it fit as if made for me alone. The same with a pair of Cash’s high-top sneakers after I gave the laces a tug.
“So – the Hattery, if you please,” I gesture a hand at the fireplace. Surely one of them has some of that portalling glitter stashed somewhere nearby. Both of the Tweedles eyes intensify on me, although I get the distinct feeling for different reasons. Cash leans his forearms on his knees, threading his fingers together.
“You won’t find what you’re looking for,” he breathes, a moment of seriousness falling over his features. I straighten.
“And what do you think that would be?”
“The Hatter, for a start,” he inclines his head towards the miniature hat nestled between my cleavage. My cheeks flush, the thought of being so transparent not sitting well with me.
“Answers, for another,” Tweed interjects. His stare has yet to leave the curve of my neck and my pulse kicks up a beat at the primal hunger in his eyes. I grit my teeth, knowing I’m not going to get answers unless I push for it. Standing, I push my hands into the cargo’s pockets, my hip popped to the side.
“Well, you two sure as shit aren’t going to give them to me, so I’m going back to the Hattery. With or without you. Although, if I step out of this room – you can both kiss goodbye to your prophecies,” I shrug. Emotional blackmail at its finest. Neither twin moves, calling my bluff.
Fuck. I have no bluff.
I don’t have the faintest clue where I am, since Cash glitter portalled me back to his club, or how to navigate this world. How many more zombie toes must I suck before I put my bravado aside and admit I need help? Sixty-nine million I reckon, so I’d better get to it. Striding for the door, Tweed stands to block my way.
“Ask me where he is, and I’ll give you the honest answer,” Tweed dares me. Everything in his tone says I don’t want to know, and he’s right. Since the moment that hat dropped into my lap, I’ve had a niggling worry about what I’ll find at the end of this fragmented rainbow. There’s only so much thread I can pull before the sweater runs out and all that’s left is the undeniable truth.
But I refuse to contemplate it. The Hatter can’t be dead. There’s no way that’s a reality, fantastical or otherwise, I will be a part of. So instead of humoring Tweed’s request, I grab a handful of his hair and drag his head aside.
“Backing me into a corner is never a good idea. You don’t want to see me desperate,” I warn. Nudging the rest of him aside, I stride for the door when another hand grabs for my wrist. A gentler touch from the twin I didn’t see move.
“This way, Malice,” Cash smiles, leading me away from his apartment. My mind was fully made up for a dramatic solo exit, but his hand shifts south to interlink with mine and I’m a goner. After all, I’m still a warm-blooded woman beneath all of this hair and bravado. For one moment, it might just be nice to hang up my survival instincts and be taken care of.
Leading me down the winding staircase into his strip club, footsteps ring out of the steps behind. At no point does Tweed allow more than a few feet to separate us, remaining close as I’m directed towards the hallways labelled ‘Fantasy Walk.’ The motion-censored lights blink on as we pass underneath, illuminating the crocodile skin wallpaper. Nothing has moved since the last time I was here, not even the delectable cakes on delicate plates upon each table.
Cash stops abruptly, facing the wall where there is no door and I frown until my eyes lower. Of course. It’s a miniature door in the shape of a hat, practically mirror image of the one inside my cleavage. Winding an arm of cashmere around my shoulders, Cash produces a tiny bottle of yellow liquid from his pocket, a ‘drink me’ tag hanging from the neck. I go to take it and he jerks it back from my reach.
“Favors require payment. What are you going to give me for safe passage?”
“I don’t have any money on me,” I shrug under the weight of his arm. A melodic, husky laugh sounds beside my ear.
“So forgetful,” Cash muses. Tugging the cork out of the bottle with his fangs, he nudges my head back and holds the bottle just above my mouth. “Lust is the currency in Wonderlust. Especially in my club.” The liquid is tipped between my lips, the smoothness of a banana milkshake swirling around my tongue as those same fangs pierce my neck. I gasp, a spike of desire shooting through me.
I vaguely registered a grumble shout in the background before another pair of fangs sink into the other side of my neck and I’m gone. Stars dance behind my vision with each suck, pulling on an invisible chord to my pussy. My panties soak in an instant. Pins and needles race across the inside of my thighs, my core twisting. The button of my cargo pants is popped, two hands nudging inside my panties. A fight for control happens but I don’t care for it, lashing my hands out to grab both of their erections through their jeans.
“Someone better enter me or I’ll rip both of your dicks off,” I growl through the powerful sucks on my throat. Between them, they’d better leave twin hickeys or we’re doing this shit again. Who am I kidding – this is going to be an hourly occurrence. Fingers thrust into my wet cunt and fuck me; I think it’s from both of them. I’m stretched wide, four fingers stroking me in unison. A palm pushes against my clit, giving me the exact pressure I need.
Without breaking their connections with my neck, my blood is drawn out in long, even pulls. Each one edges me closer to the most explosive climax I’ve ever experienced, my head dropping back on Cash’s arm with a wash of dizziness. Whoever is pressed against my clit curled their digits inside of me, holding onto my g-spot while the other fucks me with his fingers. Thrusting hard enough for the sound of my slickness to be heard over my heavy pants, I detonate.
Screaming, my pussy clamps down just as my entire body begins to tingle. The air rushes past my ears, forcing Stan to abandon ship. Shooting towards the floor, I ride out my orgasm on the Tweedles hands, panting for more. They’ve awakened a fetish I didn’t know I had, and it’s only when their teeth withdraw from my bruised skin, I blink my eyes open to see the hat-shaped door before us.
“Holy shit,” I groan at the hands retracting from my panties. Cash keeps his arm around me, which I’m grateful for. Leaning against him, Tweed pushes his fingers into his mouth and cleans them with slow, languid licks. Just like that, I’m ready to go again but a gigantic sugar glider sniffs at my chaotic hair.
Turning in Cash’s hold, I spot the dropped bottle of yellow liquid. Lifting a hand to stroke Stan’s pink nose, I lead my best bud over to it and encourage him to drink from the spill I could probably swim in. Without need of blood being drained or a climax, I hope, Stan shrinks to the size of a crumb and scurries up my body to dive back into the safety of my blonde hair.
