Chaos and Flies (The Dark Servant) by Ellas A.C

Author:Ellas, A.C. [Ellas, A.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: gay, glbt, Fantasy, BDSM, Action, Erotica
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven: Midwatch

Pain, pain, and more pain pounded in Jisten’s head. His eyes were crusted shut and his mouth was desert dry. Incongruously, the feel of soft suede covered him, and there was something warm next to him. And around him. There. Down there. If his head didn’t hurt so much, and his eyes, and his mouth, it would be wonderful. His hips roled instinctively. It felt good. Finaly, something that didn’t hurt.

Whatever he was in pushed back. He thrust again, only half awake, and the velvet warmth roled along his length. He took a deep breath of appreciation. He knew the best thing to do was to keep thrusting. Gods, it felt good.

The pain in his head receded, and the suede sheet stroked his body as the velvet warmth massaged his cock. His thrusts slowly crescendoed in depth and speed, reveling in the way the velvet warmth first yielded to him, then massaged him and pushed into him with every inward stroke.

The pleasure helped wash away part of his hangover as he climaxed. A return wave of pleasure hit him before he’d recovered from his own orgasm.

He opened his eyes and saw the high priest below him, enfolding him in soft, briliant wings. His cock was buried to its base in the tight hole between the Loftoni’s widely spread legs. With a sharply indrawn breath and panic clawing at his heart, he scrabbled away, puling out with a soft pop. Rak protested his departure with a wordless vocalization, wings and back arching, but the priest didn’t get up, or even turn his head, giving Jisten the hope that Rak had managed to sleep through it. Jisten closed his fly and gripped his head in his hands. What had he done? To the high priest?

Rak sat up and stretched, his wings spreading to their ful twelve feet.

Jisten stopped his self-condemnation to watch. Rak murmured, “That was a nice dream.”

Jisten nearly melted in relief. That didn’t explain why he was in his under clothes, but the jar of salve and the vial of oil did. He’d healed Rak’s wings. He remembered that. He hadn’t wanted to get his uniform oily.

“So, your wings were hurt and I oiled them,” Jisten said slowly. He looked around for his pants. He saw his clothing on a smal table and nonchalantly inched over to them. His neatly folded pants, shirt, and jacket spoke of advance planning. He took the pants and put them on with inhuman speed.

“Thank you,” replied Rak, his back to the captain. He turned to look at Jisten once the pants were on, as if he’d somehow known it was safe.

“You are stil hurt. Let me use the salve on your skin.”

Jisten buttoned his golden yelow linen shirt with almost the speed at which he’d put on his pants. “Thank you, I’d appreciate that. Are you sure you don’t need any more of it?” He shrugged into the emerald green jacket, but left it unbuttoned.

Rak shook his head and stood up. He was stil naked, but didn’t seem to notice.

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