Page 53 of Witch Queens: Tales from Oz

He was panting now and had taken hold of his cock.

I raised my fingers to my mouth, tasting myself. “Hmmm,” I hummed as the musky sweet nectar rolled around my tongue.

“Can I touch you?”

He had never asked before, and I could hardly fathom that he was asking now.

“No,” I replied, trailing my wet fingers to my nipples to pinch them hard before pulling them gently away from my body.

My back arched at the sensation. I wasn’t sure if it was my hands or his gaze giving me the most pleasure.

Then I went back to where I had started playing earlier. I used one hand to open my lips, so he could see every glistening pink inch of me.

“Fuck!”

With my delicate fingers, I began to do just as he had suggested. I knew what I liked and had no problem finding my clit, swiping gently before sinking my fingers back inside.

I wasn’t doing anything fast enough to detonate anytime soon, only hover on the edge.

It was beyond erotic to watch him as he stroked his giant cock to the sight of me masturbating.

It was me he wanted—not anyone else.

“Faster,” he demanded.

I complied picked up speed and then crying out when I felt a spasm, letting me know just how close I was.

With my other hand, I went back up to pinch my nipple harshly before rubbing my clit for all I was worth. It was seconds before my body responded, flying over the edge, into oblivion.

As the tremors rocked me, I kept my gaze on Scarecrow. It was the most singularly intimate moment of my life, and I had shared it with him.

When the last contraction had faded, I noticed that he was still standing there. His cock was coated with precum, and he had a tortured look on his face.

“What are you waiting for?” I asked shyly.

“Do you forgive me?” he asked again.

Lord, this man would be the death of me.

“Get your ass over here and find out.”

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