Witch Queens: Tales from Oz (Dark Fairy Tales Book 2)

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Witch Queens: Tales from Oz (Dark Fairy Tales Book 2) Page 20

by S Cinders


  My mouth was full of his cock. I could smell his cologne and something intrinsically Steele. I sucked on his length, pulling him in as far as he could go until he bumped the back of my throat, then allowing him to slide out, I did it all over again.

  Steele’s eyes were a fiery red and never once left my face. His jaw was clenched, and I could see him trying to hold back. I cupped his balls in my hand, stroking and pulling slightly.

  A low groan erupted from his throat, and he grabbed my hair up into a ponytail, pushing himself against me at his will.

  My pussy was trembling underneath my fingers, and I knew that I was close to coming.

  Just as I reached the brink, Steele pulled his cock away and ripped my hand out from between my thighs.

  “I thought I told you that this was mine?” his dark, foreboding tone sent shivers up my spine.

  I blinked, “Prove it.”

  He took my hand, sucked each finger clean, and then with a snap, he ripped my panties from my body. Taking those scraps of lace, he wound my wrists up and tied them together.

  “Someone has been naughty,” Steele’s gaze flew to my pussy.

  Wrenching my legs open he stuck his nose right next to my folds. I was horrified and aroused more than I could say.

  “You smell like honey and woman,” he groaned, and then stuck his face in my folds and licked me from end to end. “But you taste like heaven, and most importantly—mine!”

  He flicked my entrance with his tongue, “Do you want me to fuck you, El?”

  “Yes,” the answer came unbidden, “Lick me, fuck me, destroy me, Steele!”

  “Who do you belong to, El?” his red eyes met mine.

  “You,” I breathed, and his long finger slid into my core.

  “Good girl.”

  I felt a warm flush covering my body.

  “Who does this pussy belong to?”

  He started to pump his fingers in and out of me, curling them up to hit my g-spot.

  “Ahhhhh,” my back arched, trying to get him to pump harder and faster.

  Steele pulled back, “You need to answer my question, El. Who does this pussy belong to?”

  “You,” I cried out as he stroked me again and again. “It belongs to you, Steele, and no one else.”

  He smiled, and it looked so carnally sensual that I gasped as liquid filled my pussy. I wanted him so badly, in any and every way possible.

  He pressed his face against my core. The gentle licks were gone, this was plundering. I screamed out that I was close, but he kept going. The rasp of his whiskers against my sensitive skin, along with his wicked tongue, plunged me over the edge.

  I screamed his name, pulling and tugging at his hair, not certain if I was bringing him closer or pushing him away.

  My body was on fire, but I couldn’t stop thrusting against his face. One orgasm rolled into two, and I felt my eyes roll back in my head. Nothing had ever felt like this before.

  In another moment, he had pushed my right leg over my left, leaving my ravaged pussy exposed to him.

  “I am going to fuck you so hard that every time you sit, walk, or even breath tomorrow, you will remember who you belong to.”

  And then he rammed his dick into my core. I had never been fucked sideways and had no idea how deep he would be inside of me. I cried out for the pleasure, it was almost painful, right on the edge of darkness.

  My body craved his cock, and I was helpless against his savage onslaught. I hadn’t realized that tears had begun to form in my eyes. I loved this man. All of the deep, dark secrets that he held, every nuance of him, and I would fight to the death to keep him by my side.

  I began to tighten my pussy as he rammed into me. He cursed above me and grabbed my breast and squeezed tightly.

  I felt battered and raw, but there was something tremendous building inside of me. My breath caught as my body readied itself for the onslaught of Steele’s lovemaking. When his thrusts became wild and harder than ever, I screamed, my nails digging into his chest.

  Shattering images of light flashed before my eyes. My body jerking entirely out of my control, as I came all around his big cock, pushing Steele to cum as well.

  He grunted, “How in the hell did you get your hands undone?”

  I laughed, looking at my wrists to see the frayed material only surrounding one of them.

  “Apparently, when there's a will, there's a way,” I grinned up at Steele, who hadn't yet pulled himself from my body.

  Steele leaned down and kissed my lips tenderly, “I love you, El.”

  I wanted to say it back, but I was scared. However, if he could be brave enough to tell me everything about his past, perhaps it's time to share my heart with someone?

  “I love you, too,” I wasn’t sure he heard my whisper until I felt my body get tucked against him. There was a wetness on his cheeks that I didn’t understand.

  Rising on one elbow, I saw his eyes were glassy.

  “What is it?” I brushed the tears away with my thumbs.

  “Allergies,” he coughed.

  My lips twitched, “Steele.”

  “You need to clean this damn place,” he grumbled.

  My castle was spotless.

  “Steele?” I kissed the underside of his chin.

  “Damn it all to hell!” he cursed, “No one has ever told me that they loved me before. I had no idea it would turn me into such a pansy. Can we not talk about it for fuck’s sake?”

  “Oh, Steele,” my heart shattered for him.

  “No! I don’t want your pity!”

  “I don’t pity you, Steele,” I licked a tear that had escaped down his neck. “But I do love you.”

  He moaned low in his throat, “Say it again.”

  “I love you, Steele,” I smiled resting my chin on his chest. “I will always love you.”

  CHAPTER 45 - PART 4 – Elphaba

  “Are you trying to tell me there is a difference between Gnome and Nome?” Scarecrow could hardly contain his amusement. “Are they not all little knobby creatures that roam about the garden?”

  What in the hell did Indy see in this man?

  “A Gnome is a diminutive spirit in Renaissance magic and alchemy, first introduced by Paracelsus in the 16th century,” I tried to explain.

  “Para who?” Indy sounded like an owl.

  “Never mind that,” I huffed, apparently, I was the only one that cared about the origins of things. “A Nome is a Winkie. At full height, they are just less than four feet. They do not like daylight nor strangers. And they prefer to be left alone.”

  Steele choked on his toast, “That sounds promising, I cannot wait to go and visit.”

  I ignored him, “They are bloodthirsty creatures that have razor sharp teeth and yellow tinted skin.”

  “Yellow?” Scarecrow raised a brow.

  “Yes, they revere the color yellow, that is why Steele and I are dressed similarly.”

  Steele had on a pair of light colored jeans with a soft yellow t-shirt that hugged his biceps and abs. I was wearing a yellow tunic with skinny jeans.

  “I just thought you were being cutesy,” Indy’s eyes twinkled.

  Bitch—it is a good thing I love her.

  Scarecrow coughed suspiciously but didn’t comment.

  “How can they not like the sun?” Steele said as he picked up his glass, “Do they not realize that the sun is yellow?”

  “Maybe they are color blind as well as being grammatically challenged,” Indy added.

  I was ready to wash my hands of the lot of them.

  “Have you contacted Glinda and Gregory this morning?” Scarecrow was smart enough to change the topic of conversation.

  “I still am having a hard time putting the two of them together,” Indy made a face.

  “Yes, I spoke with Glinda earlier,” I replied, “She is growing some crops or some shit, and then they are going to get here as fast as they can. Glinda was pretty sure she could convince Gregory to eat a golden pair so that he could gro
w wings and fly them here.”

  “How often does the tree produce a pear?” Steele tapped his fingers against his lips, and for a moment I had forgotten he had asked a question. It wasn’t until Indy giggled that I realized I was close to drooling.

  Damn.

  “Erm, once a year it will produce a golden pear.”

  “What do you want Scarecrow and I to do while you and Steele are charming the G-less Nome’s?”

  I rolled my eyes, “Indy are you ever going to let that go?”

  She laughed, “Not for a while—no.”

  Steele smiled, and my breath caught.

  “We need you to work with Cass to get at least two people for the girls and three people for the guys. We can try and use Winkie’s, but I think it would be best if you could get Pixies or Fairies, they tend to be more agreeable to transfiguration.”

  Indy nodded, “We're on it.”

  I turned to Steele, “Are you finished with breakfast?”

  Steele wiped the sides of his mouth with his napkin, “Ready when you are.”

  “Your Majesty, I really don’t think that this is a good idea,” Cass tried to stop me as we walked out across the back lawns of the castle. “There must be another way. You don’t understand. The Winkie’s are not reasonable creatures. They aren’t just going to hand over their gold and gems.”

  “You worry too much, Cass,” I patted her purple head.

  Puffs of purple smoke came out of her ears, “I have to say that I highly dislike this plan.”

  I walked around her, “Cass, it is not like I am asking you to come along. You stay here and help Scarecrow and Indy.”

  “Your Majesty, please rethink this!”

  I pretended to consider it, “Nope, we are going through with the plan, but I do appreciate your concern.”

  Cass stomped her foot, “They have been known to eat creatures they are not happy with.”

  Cannibalism?

  “Will we be grilled or fried?” Steele chimed in, “Because I am afraid being fried is a deal breaker.”

  My lips twitched, “But being grilled is still on the table?”

  He shrugged, “I choose to live life dangerously.”

  “You are both insane,” Cass huffed and flitted away towards the castle.

  “She seemed quite put out with you just then,” Steele commented.

  “Cass? She will get over it, the Pixie just worries about me. But I am a witch, and I have a—erm, whatever you are by my side.”

  Steele grinned, “I’m the Tin Man, remember?”

  Color suffused my cheeks, “Right, about that...”

  “You can’t take it back now,” Steele laughed, pulling me into his warm embrace. “Do you know that it is the first nickname I have ever been given?”

  “It is a terrible nickname, Steele,” I wailed as his arms tightened so I couldn’t break free.

  “I don’t find it so bad,” he whispered against my neck.

  Shivers raced up and down my arms, “And why is that?”

  “Because you gave it to me,” he kissed the tender spot below my ear, and I melted against him.

  I turned in his arms to capture his face, “I can think of a hundred other names for you.”

  He kissed my forehead, “Nope, I am and will forever be known as the Tin Man!”

  I raised on my tippy toes just as I felt something sharp gouge me into the back.

  Shit.

  “Put your hands where we can see them!”

  “Is there a spear poking into your back?” Steele asked conversationally.

  “Indeed, there is!”

  We raised our hands slowly.

  “Turn around, Witch! We have you surrounded!”

  Perfect.

  “I thought you never came out during the day?”

  I elbowed Steele in the ribs. This wasn’t the time to be nitpicking.

  We turned and faced what had to be at least a hundred Winkie’s. I am supposed to be their Queen, but they didn’t seem to be bowing down to me anytime soon.

  “We want to speak with the head Winkie,” I tried to exert authority in my tone.

  When nobody moved, I waved my wrist to cast them away with my magic.

  Nothing happened, not one damn thing.

  “Why isn’t my magic working?” I hissed at Steele.

  He shrugged.

  “Your witchcraft won’t work once you are on the Winkie Land, Witch,” a stubby Nome spat at us.

  How was I to know that?

  “We don’t like you!” cursed another one.

  “Hey!” spear point or not, this was getting personal. “Why don’t you like me? I am a good ruler!”

  A thin, bald man threw his head back and laughed, “The Witch thinks that she is our ruler!”

  They all burst into riotous laughter.

  “I am your ruler. My father made it so!”

  I may or may not have considered stomping my foot, but stopped when I realized how whiny I sounded.

  Steele pursed his lips, “If you do not recognize the King of Oz, who is your monarch?”

  The stubby one came forward, “King Rand of the Nome’s rules all of the Winkie’s.”

  “May we request an audience with King Rand?”

  I had to hand it to Steele. He was doing a much better job of staying focused.

  “Man, of Tin, for you we will give an audience to the King. But the Witch, she must die.”

  “Die?” I sputtered, “That is a bit rash, don’t you think?”

  The bald one shook his head, “The Man of Tin might be of use to us if he can truly make tin. You have no value, Witch.”

  “You Winkie’s are mean little bastards, do you know that?” I would have fried them all if I could have.

  “Perhaps you shouldn’t be antagonizing the creatures pointing spears at our hearts?” Steele didn’t sound like himself.

  I huffed, “Look, just do your mind control shit and let’s get the ball on the road.”

  Steele blushed, actually blushed! And then it dawned on me. He wasn’t holding off on the mind control for kicks and giggles. It wasn’t working!

  “We are in deep shit,” I breathed, taking a decidedly closer step to him.

  Steele hissed through a fake smile, “I take it back, I don’t want that nickname anymore.”

  A bubble of inappropriate laughter came up, “Too late, Tin Man. And I have to say, I hope I live long enough to see the show!”

  If looks could kill, I would have been six feet under.

  CHAPTER 46 - PART 4 – Elphaba

  “I won’t turn anything into tin if you harm the Witch. Erm, Elphaba, that is her name.”

  My hero.

  “Come along,” the bald one grumbled, gouging me sharply so that I would follow.

  We walked until we faced a large tree. The bald Nome placed his yellow hand over the garbled wood, and a door appeared as a large section of bark swung inward.

  “You will leave your shoes out here,” the stubby one crossed his chest. “And no talking!”

  “Why are we taking off our shoes to go underground?” I wish I could say that Steele was responsible for talking back when we had been asked not to.

  But he looked at me in exasperation, and I could tell he desperately wanted to tell me to shut-up.

  “Kill the Witch!” cried out one of the little ones.

  “No! Not kill the Witch! I will take off my damn shoes!”

  Vicious creatures! I could almost appreciate their harsh nature. If it wasn’t so pointedly aimed at me, that is.

  I bent and removed my shoes, tossing them to the side. My bare feet sunk into the cool grass and I have to admit, it felt lovely.

  Steele was wise enough to readily agree to their demands and was already standing there in his socks.

  “Remove all foot coverings, Man of Tin,” they poked Steele in the ass.

  Biting off a curse, he pulled his socks off to reveal manly feet, “You didn’t say that they were Pedophiliacs.”

>   “What?” momentarily distracted, I stumbled, and he caught my arm.

  “Foot worship or foot partialism?” The corner of his lip raised, “One who gets sexual pleasure from seeing, being around, or even thinking about feet.”

  “That’s a thing?” I suddenly wanted my shoes back and looked at them longingly from where we were standing.

  Steele teased, “You do have sexy feet, El.”

  “Shut-up!” I hissed at him.

  But the Winkie’s had apparently had enough of Steele and I conversing because the next thing I knew, a large crack followed by blinding pain struck me from behind. I didn’t even have the chance to check on Steele before the inky blackness took over and I knew no more.

  “Wake-up, Witch!”

  My body shook as a giant bucket of water was thrown, soaking me to the core.

  Why did I wear yellow?

  Another bucket of water came crashing over me.

  “I am awake, you sneaky bastards!” I cried out waving my hands.

  A third bucket followed the first two.

  I sat up and glared at my jailors. My head hurt like a bitch, and I had no idea where Steele was.

  “I said I was awake!”

  It was the bald Nome who smirked at me, “We had to be sure, Witch!”

  “Where is my companion?” I growled, pulling the chains that connected my hands and feet to the cave wall.

  We were in a carved-out room somewhere deep underground. The walls of the cavern were slick and cold, much like granite. There was a pot belly stove in the corner that’s pipe lead all the way up through the ceiling. The room had a round wooden door that my jailer had left open.

  “The Man of Tin is a much-honored guest of King Rand. He is being fed a feast in the great hall.”

  I was going to kill him.

  “When am I going to meet King Rand?” I asked waspishly.

  “You aren’t,” his evil smile grated against everything that was in me. “The only reason you are still alive is that the Man of Tin said he needs your magic to produce tin. We tried to reason that you would be just as good to him dead, but he declined.”

  Okay, maybe not kill—but maiming was still on the agenda.

  “Witch, you are wasting time. Get to your feet!”

  I struggled to stand, the room spun around me. I reached up and felt a sticky mess on the back of my head.

 

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