A/N: Well I had to do it... don't you see... the jabberwocky made me do it.
Go ahead and enjoy guys ;)
Alice had awoken in Marmoreal feeling somewhat different.
She had sweated through her nightdress, and she felt sticky. Her stomach was rolling in apprehension and her limbs felt strangely heavy.
Dragging herself from the giant bed, she threw off the silk sheets and struggled to the balcony, throwing the doors wide and revelling in the cool Wonderland air.
Earlier that evening, the White Queen had been informed by her spies that the Hatter and Mallyumpkin were to be executed. Alice's heart had stopped in her chest for that brief moment as she overhead the news. She watched as Mirana closed her eyes, maintained a composure befitting of a Queen and said nothing to her curious courtiers. Alice fought back tears, her gentle, flame haired Hatter dying at the hands of the wicked woman. She wanted to save him but she did not know how. Her time in Overland had taught her that there was very little a woman could do, despite a woman sitting on the throne. In both Wonderland and Overland she thought with a sigh.
That was at dinner though and now it was much later. It was almost morning as she looked at the western sky which was lightening and placed her arms on the cold metal railing. The stark relief against her heated body brought her dream back in clarity. It also made her blush to the roots of her blonde hair.
She had dreamt of the Hatter. She had dreamt of the Hatter in his cell. At first she had been stood, away from him and another blonde girl, a doppelganger and watched them talk between themselves, missing their words. A jealousy had speared through her chest until she realised she was that girl. Her perception altered and she felt Hatter atop her, inside her, thrusting roughly and yet her body hadn't hurt. Merely tingled. Her breath had caught in her throat, her body mirroring his actions though now they were mortifying.
Calming her breathing, which she realised had hitched, Alice walked along her balcony and stared up at the sky. The dream had elicited a reaction in her, far stronger than she would have liked but nevertheless, the man of her desires was a long way away and she was not likely to see him again. That's what the rational part of her said, but Alice knew that her rationality was stunted; her flight of fancy and wonder at the world was far stronger and she looked back at the bed with twisted sheets with mixed feelings.
Hatter caused a flicker, a flame in her belly that would have her worried had she been any sort of Victorian normality. Instead, the naughty books in recesses of the library at her home taught her the filthy love her society held for pornography and that sex was not 'lie back and think of England' but enjoy yourself as much as the man did.
Alice had felt that flicker before, briefly when she discovered a particularly thrilling tale of a soldier and a native woman in the far flung East and she remember that her eyes had almost popped open at the next few paragraphs when the native woman had touched herself. The words had burned into her mind until Alice built up the courage to mimic the woman's actions. At first she had been weighed down with her guilt but curiosity got the better of her and soon it became enjoyable.
She stared at her bed and resolved herself to releasing the tension from her body. Leaving her doors open but closing the curtains once more Alice shucked off her nightdress and rested herself atop the thankfully cooled silk sheets.
Closing her eyes, Alice fell back into the guilty routine and slowly trailed her fingers down to her body. But the routine didn't fit her Hatter, he was the opposite of a routine, something new and something wild and without warning she pressed her fingers against her sex, reminding herself of what it felt like in her dream as he was atop her.
Her mind swamped her and she could almost feel the rough calluses on his fingers from countless needles probing her entrance, brushing against the silkiness of her thighs. It was her fantasy and she could imagine as she wanted. In her earlier dream Hatter had remained clothed but now she undressed him slowly, her fingers sure as she pushed off his outer coat, leaving it to disappear into the recesses of her mind while his waistcoat received the same treatment. Pulling off the patterned cravat, her fingers almost trembled on the idea of stripping off the shirt with the eccentric blue lace cuffs. He was lean muscle beneath the layers, well worked but not overly muscular. There was a skinniness that reflected his recent turmoil, the occasional bouts of starvation until his friends stepped in, forcing him to remember who he was and that he needed nutrition.
Alice's mouth wanted to be everywhere at once, and she started as his neck. The pale skin hardly saw the light of day and it begged to be marked, something to break up the pale alabaster as he had very few freckles or moles. She sucked a large mark onto his neck, showing she owned him and her body quivered at the moan her imaginary Hatter made. His hands brushed at her waist, only moving when her mind ordered him to do so. She ordered him to strip as she rested back against the bed once more, fingers slipping to her breast to pluck at a nipple and then her imaginary Hatter became a little more forceful. He tapped at her darkest fantasies as he pressed her into the mattress, her hand knotted in the orange hair and pulled him closer, pulled his mouth onto hers. The neatly trimmed nails of her other hand scored against the pale skin once more and he grunted, his hips pressing against her bare sex.
What did she have to do to get a little friction around here? She wanted the Hatter from her dream back but maybe she wanted a little more control. Like the native woman in the story. She rolled them over, placing his hand on her breast which he squeezed in reply, pinching the nipple before reaching to play with its twin. She whined as the pads of this thumb drew around the stiffened nipple and her hips ground against his. There was nothing to stop them now, no barrier of clothing on either part, Alice felt her fingers quicken at the very thought of allowing Hatter inside her. Even an imaginary one. She was close to begging him to take her when she allowed the head of his cock to rest against her nether lips. She was soaked, she knew that and she felt as though she would slide quite easily down but held herself back. She wanted this feeling to last but without warning she felt those rough calloused hands grab her hips and pull her towards him. The feeling of being full matched earlier and Alice knew she would be close.
Wonderland had done wonderful things to her dreams and this was one of them. It felt so real, as though Hatter really was beneath her, his hands encouraging her movement. She listened to the noises pouring from his mouth; usually the incoherency and jumbled sentences would trigger an impending madness but Alice knew he was sane currently but thoroughly mixed up by the feelings rocketing through him. She certainly was. Her name dropped from his lips as she gasped his and finally imaginary Hatter took over and rolled her onto her back before thrusting back into her.
"Hatter." She gasped, dimly aware her own voice echoed around the empty room before her muse did something marvellous with his hips and reality blurred with dreams.
He moved differently to the dream that awoke her, he moved with care, he didn't want to break her but at the same time he was wild with the desire he felt her and Alice could feel it move through her body as his hips snapped against hers. The familiar feeling was coiling in her stomach, tingling in her thighs and her back began to arch.
Quickly, her vexing lover rolled them over, his eyes pleading for her to finish atop him and she quickly rebuilt her pace as imaginary Hatter sped up from beneath her, his thumb pressed roughly over the bundle of nerves that finished her off every time. Alice only just remembered not to scream and she let out a muffled squeak as the dream world faded as did Hatter.
She was distinctly aware that her fingers were covered in her juices, and by the feel of it as was her bottom, there would no doubt be a mess on the sheets which brought a rush of shame to her senses. Hurrying to her wash basin Alice quickly cleaned herself off and stared at the incriminating wet patch. She shrugged, experience had taught her that it didn't normally stain.
Waiting in his cell, Hatter was distinctly aware of an aching cock and another release, this time inside over his thighs as Alice had rode him to happy oblivion. A union so different from the vexing spirit that had visited him first time, he had envisioned her in a room at Marmoreal, atop him, looking like a wild Amazonian.
Closing his eyes, blissfully and not with shame, Hatter hoped that his and Cheshire's plan worked for him to make the last dream a reality.