by S Cinders
Mombi let out a humorless huff, “He’s a hell of a lot more than that.”
Intrigued, I leaned in, “What do you mean?”
“I can’t believe his pride hasn’t come after him,” she mused.
Jake lifted his head as if he heard her. And then to my surprise, a slow smile crossed his face and my sister, the queen of confidence, blushed. It was the strangest moment I have ever been a part of.
“What the hell was that?” El didn’t mince words.
Mombi looked away, “Nothing, what were we talking about?”
Glenda perked up, “Do you think we should tell Daddy about the Dorothy creature that keeps murdering the Munchkins?”
Mombi was silent for a moment before answering, “I apologize for not believing you. But no, I don’t think we should get Dad involved.”
Glenda pouted.
I waved Mombi’s apologies off, ignoring Glenda, “Don’t worry about it. Scarecrow could have backed me up better,” I grumbled half to myself.
She cocked her head to the side, “You looked pretty cozy with that outlaw, what is the story there?”
It was my turn to blush as my sisters leaned in.
“Oh, hell no!” El squealed, “You're fucking him! Don’t say you aren’t. It’s written all over your face.”
Glenda blanched, “But you aren’t married!”
We all rolled our eyes.
Mombi laughed, “I had thought it was something like that. When did you get together?”
I froze. It wasn’t like we were together. Scarecrow had made it very clear that he didn’t do relationships.
What was I to him—if anything?
Suddenly I felt tiny and used.
Sensing my dismay El quickly came around the table, “He isn’t hurting you or anything is he?”
To my horror, there were tears in my eyes, “No! Goddess, no, nothing like that. It is just—nothing, honestly.”
Mombi put her arm out to place a hand on my arm, “You are awfully upset for nothing.”
“It’s this case,” I lied, “I just want Dorothy captured so that my people are safe.”
“Do you want our help?” El asked kindly, and I leaned into my twins embrace.
I wanted to say yes, but they had their own territories to run. And I knew that this was my test. I had done what I needed to in telling them of the chance that she might come their way. But for now, Dorothy was mine.
“No,” I sat up, breaking away. “I can do this. I just wanted to warn each of you. If she comes your way, I will pursue her.”
Mombi raised a hand, “Actually, I think we should make a vow that whoever has her in their territory has the right to deal with her however they see fit.”
I nodded slowly, “I can agree to that. I will also vow that I will not willingly push her into another territory, but I will let one of you know if she leaves mine.”
Mombi looked at El and Glenda, “Are we in agreeance?”
El raised a hand, “Witches honor.”
We turned to Glenda who had been filing her nails.
She sighed daintily and then finally agreed, “Witches honor.”
I smiled, “That bitch Dorothy won’t know what’s coming to her.
LATER THAT NIGHT I was lying in Scarecrow’s massive bathtub trying to get my muscles to relax when he walked into the bathroom.
I smiled up at him in the doorway. His jaw reflected the day's growth of stubble and his muscles stretched out his black t-shirt. My eyes flitted down to his torn jeans, and I wondered if he had any underwear on.
I doubted it.
Scarecrow wasn’t smiling.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
He stared for a moment, “Jake said that you were crying today with your sisters.”
My face heated.
Shit. Double and triple shit.
“Yeah?” I tried to feign innocence.
“What was it about?”
“Nothing,” I said brightly, “I can get out if you want the bath.”
“I don’t want the fucking bathtub, Indy. I want to know who made you cry.”
His voice was hard, scary almost.
“Nobody made me cry,” I shot back. “I was just upset about the murders.”
“I call bullshit,” he growled, his fists clenching.
“Why is this important to you?” I cried out, pushing up and grabbing a towel.
For a moment his eyes were suspended on my body, but then he shook his head as if to clear it.
“Why? Are you shitting me? You are important to me, Indy. If someone makes you cry, I want to know.” He stepped closer to me grabbing the towel and tossing it behind me.
“That’s rich!” I was almost shouting, “Do you really want to know who made me cry?”
He looked at me like I had grown a third limb, “No, Indy, I want to know the weather in China today.”
“Funny,” I mocked.
He ran his hands through his hair, “Why won’t you tell me?”
I felt the emotions boiling up, and I did not want to do this again. “Because it was you, Scarecrow! I was crying because of you.”
The look on his face was priceless. And if I hadn’t been so upset, I would have laughed.
“Me? What did I do?”
And suddenly I felt too naked, too vulnerable, and I needed space.
“I need to go home. I can’t do this anymore.”
His eyes widened, “Did I hurt you? Indy, I never meant to...”
I put a hand up to stop him as a tear slipped down my cheek. “You didn’t hurt me. At least not how you are thinking. I know you are used to the no strings attached. And I tried to do it, I really did. But that’s just not me.”
“I don’t understand,” he growled out, grabbing my wet naked body, and pulling it against his still clothed frame.
“Then let me spell it out for you,” I placed a hand against his whiskered jaw, “I can’t be this close to you and not have feelings for you.”
He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, hurt and indecision swirled in their depths.
“Indy, I am not right for you,” he whispered.
“Then let me leave now, while I still can.”
For a moment I thought he might, but then his arms tightened around me, and he picked me up. “You can’t leave, I told you-you are mine.”
CHAPTER 10
“Scarecrow, what does that even mean?”
His arms tighten, and I feel as precious as glass as he cradled me in his arms.
“Indy, it’s complicated,” he grinds out. “But I never meant to hurt you. Fuck, hurting you would be the last thing in the world that I would want to do.”
My stupid tear ducts were acting up again.
“Then what are we?” I whispered.
He grimaced, “I don’t do labels. I have never been in a relationship. I don’t even know how. I fuck, and I work, but I don’t do emotions. I am trying here, Indy, I really am.”
He walked us over to the bed and set me on it. My heart was in my throat as I watched him pace back and forth on the carpet.
I was getting chilled with my damp skin and pulled the comforter around me.
“Look,” he ran his hands through his hair, making the dark silky strands stand out at odd angles. “I want something more with you.”
My eyes shot to his, “You do?”
He eyed me warily nodding, “But I don’t know if I have it in me. Indy, the last thing I want to do is let you down.”
A rush of tenderness overtook me, and I dropped the blanket. His eyes immediately darkened as they took in my naked body. I crawled over to him on my hands and knees.
“You won’t let me down,” I pulled up to my knees.
“Fuck, Indy,” he released a shaky breath, “I am not a good man.”
I stared at him, considering my answer. Finally, I settled on, “You are good to me.”
He pulled his shirt over his head, “Let me be good to you, Indy.”
&n
bsp; Scarecrow made short work of the rest of his clothes before joining me on the bed. He leaned over me, pushing me back until he was leaning over my body on his forearms.
“Do you trust me?” his smirk had my stomach clenching.
“Y-yes,” I stuttered as I felt his hard cock brush against my mons.
“Good,” he whispered, “I am going to try something new with you.”
I quirked a brow but didn’t say anything as he sat up and went over to his dresser. He came back with a silver mini egg-shaped object and some lube.
“Um, I don’t know,” I had never done anything with anal play before.
His dark eyes met mine. There was a hint of humor in them, “Do you trust me?”
It took me a minute, but I nodded hesitantly.
His white teeth glistened against his tan skin, “I won’t do anything that you won’t like, Baby. We are just going to start training your fine ass.”
I felt my pussy clench at the thought. Maybe I wasn’t as averse to this as I thought.
Scarecrow pulled me to the edge of the bed opening my legs wide. I thought that he was going to go right for my ass, but to my surprise, he fingered my folds softly.
I gasped as he gathered my juices and brought them up to coat my clit. It felt amazing.
My eyes narrowed as I watched him play with me. His gaze was too intent, never leaving my pussy as he stroked and played, entering one finger and then another.
I wanted to thrust my hips, but I was holding off, trying to please him with my stillness.
Scarecrow glanced up at me, removing his hand, he placed his fingers on my lips, “Suck,” he commanded, and my tongue came out to lick his fingers clean of my juices.
His eyes grew impossibly darker as a curse flew from his lips, “Fuck!”
Rolling me onto my side, he propped one of my thighs forward so that my ass was exposed to him.
“Such a pretty little rosebud,” he murmured as he rimmed it with his fingertip.
My pussy clenched, it felt much better than I had anticipated it feeling.
Scarecrow grabbed the tube and squeezed some out onto my ass. It was cold and surprising.
He began to stroke the area, “Just relax, Indy, it’s only my finger, Baby.”
I concentrated on relaxing as I felt pressure against my anus. It stung a little, but I focused on my breathing, and soon I felt his finger slip inside.
He groaned as his finger went inside and he pumped it lightly. It felt strange and taboo, but I liked it and pushed my ass back against him.
Scarecrow laughed, “Oh, Baby, what I wouldn’t do to be fucking your ass right now.”
I mewled, and he groaned low in his throat.
I felt his finger slip from my body, and I sighed in protest,
“I’m not done with you yet,” he promised.
He picked up the lube and added it to the butt plug, “This is a little bigger than my finger, Baby, but it will feel good as I’m fucking you.”
I pushed my ass against him, feeling confident, but when the cold metal touched me, I tensed.
Scarecrow took his other hand and started stroking my clit, “Relax, Indy, it won’t hurt you, if you let it in.”
I focused on his hand wreaking havoc on my pussy. I loved the way he focused on me and only me. My pleasure was his pleasure, and I felt a surge of protectiveness rush over me.
I was falling for this man.
I felt the immense pressure against my anus and then it slipped inside. I felt stuffed. It was unlike anything I had ever felt before.
I was breathing heavily.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I caught his gaze, “Yes,” I whispered, “Scarecrow?”
He pushed my hair out of my face, “Yes, Baby?”
“Fuck me, please?”
The smile that crossed his face was one that I won’t soon forget.
“You don’t have to ask me twice, Indy.”
He pulled me up so that I was on my knees, my face buried in the bedding, as I rested on my elbows.
I knew that he could see the shiny silver plug and I waved my ass at him suggestively.
He groaned, grasping my hips tightly, “Minx!”
And then before I could think of a reply, he rammed his cock inside of me. I don’t know what I was anticipating. But having my ass full of the plug and him slammed to the hilt in my pussy, I almost couldn’t breathe.
It was too much and so damn good, that I never wanted him to stop. Nerve endings that I didn’t know existed were firing off, and I struggled to keep on my knees.
“Fuck, Indy,” he rasped, “You are so fucking tight this way!”
I couldn’t have responded if I wanted to. Scarecrow rammed into me, bottoming out against my cervix and I screamed out his name.
I was going to come, and I couldn’t hold it back.
He was relentless. His balls hitting so fast and so hard that they were slapping up against my clit.
“Shit, Baby, you are doing so good!”
I felt a rush of warmth at his compliment. I used my vaginal walls to squeeze him, and his thrusts became feral.
Suddenly there was only the slapping of him against my ass, and then I was coming—hard.
“Scarecrow!”
He pulled the plug from my ass and I tripped into another orgasm as he pumped into me to his completion.
I felt him jerking against my core and I knew that he was the one holding both of us up.
He pulled out slowly and I felt his cum slowly trickle out.
“Fuck, Indy,” he whispered, “That’s some sexy shit.”
I couldn’t believe that he was staring at my pussy. I would have been mortified if I wasn’t so exhausted.
He flipped me onto my back, his gaze immediately coming to my face.
“Are you okay?”
I smiled dreamily up at him, “Never better.”
And then I reached out for him to hold me because I felt that we had crossed some pretty big boundaries and I needed his assurance that things really would be okay.
CHAPTER 11
The muffled sounds of yelling woke me from my sleep and I quickly realized that Scarecrow was still dreaming. I had never seen him like this before. His brow furrowed, eyes clenched tight as he muttered something about not taking it anymore.
His deeply tanned skin had a light sheen of sweat on it despite the cool temperature of the room. Carefully, I leaned over and placed a gentle hand on his arm. No sooner had I done so, that he grabbed my wrist in a punishing grip and flipped us over so that he was on top of me.
His other hand was around my throat, crushing my windpipe to the point that I was starting to see spots.
Scarecrow seemed to come fully awake at that moment. He flew off of me, recoiling in horror.
He held his hands in front of his face as if he couldn’t quite believe that they belonged to him.
“Indy,” raspy and broken, “What have I done?”
“I’m okay,” I wanted to soothe him. I wanted to take away the tortured look in his eyes. It was heartbreaking, and I never wanted that for him. I had only wanted to help.
His hands covered his face, “I’m a fool. I should never have allowed this to go so far. You shouldn’t be with a monster like me.”
“You aren’t a monster!”
He looked up, his dark eyes haunted, “You don’t know everything, Indy.”
I tentatively scooted closer to him, praying all the while that he wouldn’t push me away. “Then tell me, Scarecrow, tell me what you are hiding. Tell me who you are.”
He leaned his head back against the wall, “My name was Adam Walker.”
“Adam,” I repeated, letting the letters roll around my tongue.
He nodded with a ghost of a smile, “I am not from here. My mother was from a land called Trinidad. It is a beautiful island. My father was a wealthy businessman who swept her off her feet.”
“Was it love at first sight?”
He blew ou
t a breath, “For her, perhaps. For the bastard that fathered me, I doubt he felt a moment of love beyond the pleasure he stole from an innocent girl. There were promises of marriage, promises that he would take care of us. But it was all lies, as it often turns out it be.”
“Scarecrow,” I swallowed, “That is terrible, I'm sorry.”
He shook his head, “Don’t be, it was a long time ago. My mother worked many jobs to try and raise me. Her parents had disowned her.”
“Because she was pregnant?” I breathed.
He let out a harsh laugh, “Because she had lowered herself to become pregnant with a white man. There were stringent lines back then, and her village would not tolerate a mixed-race child.”
My hand reached out. I needed to touch him. “What happened?”
“The usual shit. My upbringing was no different from anyone else’s. I was spat upon, kicked, sworn, and cussed at regularly. I couldn’t attend public school, and because my mother was working, I often fell in with the wrong crowd.”
“Scarecrow, that is not the usual shit,” I breathed.
He looked over at me, “Hell, Indy, I didn’t tell you this to make you cry.”
“I’m not crying!” I said indignantly, and I reached up and felt damp cheeks. “What year was this anyway?”
His dark eyes focused on me, “1838.”
“What? How is that even possible? And how did you end up in Oz? I don’t understand?”
Scarecrow leaned over, and I couldn’t help but watch his six-pack abs as they contracted with the movement. He gathered me into his arms and pulled me onto his lap.
“It seems that my rich ass father was more than just a regular man. I found that out the first time I had gotten into some serious trouble on the island. Three mobsters were chasing me down an alleyway, and I turned a corner only to find that there was no way out.”
I pulled his arms more tightly around me, “So, what did you do?”
“I turned to face them and wished more than anything that I was bigger, meaner and scarier than they were. Suddenly my body morphed in size, becoming larger. I felt the power radiating underneath my skin, and the moment one of those idiots touched me I disintegrated him.”
“What are you?” I breathed.
Scarecrow shrugged, “They nicknamed me Scarecrow on the island because there is a legend about a Scarecrow being an object of faceless fear, and I suppose over the last hundred years or so, the name stuck. My mother was human and after her life was through I saw no reason to stay on the island.”
