To Race the Wylde Wynd CH. 24

Templer was content to just sit and watch as Chrysta finished preparing their simple meal. His nerves were still jumping from the complete overload the woman had subjected them to. Keeping quiet seemed a good thing right at the moment! Nuva shifted behind him. Humming quietly, the mare nuzzled his shoulder in sympathy. When Chrysta silently handed him his neatly plated portion, the priest realized that her hands were shaking. The woman leaned back against the cream destria's side closing her eyes. Nuva's hum shifted to that deep, soothing croon. Templer was startled when Zephyr's rumbling voice joined in and he realized that the big black had returned to the camp. The small, tense lines of distress around the woman's mouth and eyes gradually smoothed out and disappeared.

Templer felt Azra ease foreword a little in his mind.

“Chrysta, you really need to eat before you sleep.”

The Talon winced as the woman's face twitched, but he realized he was as bad as the demon when he joined in.

“Yes... that would probably be a very good idea.”

Chrysta's eyelids opened enough he could see they were a kaleidoscopic mix of blue, green and gold. Both males released the collective breath they had been holding when she grinned.

“Isn't that a little like the pot calling the kettle black?”

“Hnnn...” Templer hoped that his abused body would forgive him. His stomach was still tied into a tense knot. He picked up one of the meat pies as a slight smile twisted his mouth.

“Yes, I guess it would be, except this pot is planning on eating.”

The destria's deep croon stopped, and it was Chrysta's turn to get the full impact of Nuva's evil eye. She hastily pulled herself away from the mare's warm side and picked up a slice of apple and some cheese to nibble on.

Surprisingly, between the two of them, they finished what she had prepared. This was if you did not take into account a meat pie and a couple of apples that found their way into Nuva's greedy mouth.

As Templer gathered up and put away the implements from their meal, Chrysta made her way back over to put more wood on the dying fire. When she returned, she had put her shirt back on. She had her blanket draped over her shoulders. The long, loose shirt swayed with her movements, revealing and concealing tantalizing bits of her firm anatomy.

“These are dry.” She handed him his warm shirt, “We will have to wait awhile longer on the pants.”

The man had straightened out the blanket that Chrysta had initially spread on the ground under them, and she settled back on to it. He was relieved to see that the grace had returned to her movements. Templer stood, turning his back to her as he slipped into his shirt. He knew it was silly. The woman had seen him undressed several times already. What the priest did not realize was although this preserved a little of his dignity, it gave the woman a long uninterrupted view of his strong well-muscled back. Chrysta froze, her gaze lingering on what was a truly impressive behind and her fingers twitched as she ruthlessly stepped on the sudden desire to touch the man's lovely, porcelain like skin. When Templer turned back around, he was modestly re-covered by his blanket. His companion had leaned back and was watching him with stormy, half lidded eyes. His own dark gaze caught her staring as he sat back down. One elegant eyebrow arched as a light tinge of pink touched her cheeks and she looked away.

They both relaxed against their living back rest in companionable silence.

Chrysta when she finally spoke, jerked Templer out of a light doze.

“I am very careful.”

The gunman was confused for a moment, had she been talking to him while he was drifting?

“I am sorry?”

His companion shifted a little and her eyes flicked sideways to look at him.

“I am very careful when I figure my dosages on the dreamleaf. I am well aware how dangerous a drug it is.”

Templer turned his body so he could see her face. Her mouth gave a wry twist.

“I... apologize... for subjecting you to....” She shrugged, “I tend to get a little short tempered when I am... tired.”

The gunman quietly studied the woman's face until she looked away from him in shame. He reached over and using the tip of one talon under her chin, he turned her face back where he could see it.

“You have nothing to apologize for. My... companion... can be overbearing at times.”

He felt his outrider twitch indignantly in response to that, but Azra wisely held his tongue. “And you certainly made your point. Quite clearly I might add!”

Green eyes darkened, then blinked. She reached up to run her fingers along his blade-hand.

“For one who has been so abused by destiny, you have a remarkably forgiving nature, Templer Constantine.”

Okay, Azra just couldn't stand it.

“Except when it comes to forgiving himself. Considering he is a man of the cloth... he is abysmal at that!”

Chrysta couldn't quite control the smile that flitted across her face. She looked away as the smile turned sad.

“Sometimes, Azra, even if one CAN forgive one's... self. It brings no sweet comfort.”

Her attention jerked back to the gunman's beautiful face when his talon dipped and gently traced the path of her scar through the soft material of her shirt. Chrysta froze, mesmerized by the swirling gold that lit the darkness with-in the Talon's eyes.

The sensitive circuitry in Templer's bio-engineered hand easily picked up the shift in her steady heart rate as the tip of the gleaming talon slipped across her stomach to travel where the old wound sliced across her abdomen and curled around her hip. In passing, the cold organic metal left the material and traveled on to caress soft, warm skin. Its sensitive tip also picked up the slight shudder that traveled over her.

Spreading that hand wide, Constantine braced his weight on the ground next to her hip and rotated himself until he was facing her. This move unintentionally trapped the woman between himself and the solid bulk of the destria behind. They were close enough that the woman's heat carried her warm spicy smell up to him like a rich, sweet perfume. As his head dipped to taste those slightly parted lips, a flash of guilt stopped him.

For her, what he was asking was still a punishable sin. She could be whipped or stoned for it if the local magistrate wished to push the point.

“NO, Constantine... this act is allowed if there is truly a need. Your Outrider's reserves are low and, he is insisting that he is very... very... hungry!”

Azra's voice oddly enough... sounded apprehensive and Templer was astounded when instead of retreating to the depths of his host's mind, the demon shifted forward a little.

The Talon felt the soft lips under his curve in a sweet smile. Then, Chrysta's face was all he saw. Pinpoints of blue and gold flashed in and out of the green of her wide eyes as she patiently waited for him to come to a decision. They blazed like brilliant jewels before they closed when Templer finally captured her mouth with his.

“YESSS...!”

Azra rumbled, his rough voice soft and deep. This should have been a distraction. Instead, it was as if the meld between the outrider and the man strengthened. Instead of being two separate individuals... they became the two halves of one.

There was no physical transformation, but Chrysta's eyes flicked open as the shadow of phantom wings arced up, blocking the dim light of the fire. She drew back slightly and Templer slid his human hand under her soft shirt. Slipping his arm around her, the man stroked up his partner's supple spine. The lean, strong fingers that gently touched her... were his. When he curved them at the sensitive spot between the woman's shoulder blades, she arched forward with a smothered hiss at the feel of sharp talons carefully gliding along her skin. Turning that hand, those same ghostly talons sliced through the material covering her warm soft body.

The cloth fluttered to the ground, exposing shimmering skin to the cool night air. Chrysta rose, her lithe body pressed tightly against his chest. Strong arms slid around the gunman's neck and long fingers tangled themselves into his raven hair as Templer deepened the kiss. That sweet mouth opened allowing him entry. It was his outrider that drank her moan when teeth that had elongated into killing fangs nipped gently at her tender tongue and lips.

Chrysta's hands slid under his shirt, stroking along his stomach. A tremor ran through Constantine as the hard muscles there tightened, shivering at the wonderful sensations her cool fingers created. The groan that escaped his lips was an almost harmonic blending of two voices. Moving up, those same amazing hands impatiently removed his shirt. He smiled against her mouth at the soft curse she uttered struggling with the buttons. Spider-silk did not tear easily and, the cloth was suddenly very much in the way!

With a sudden grin against his lips, Chrysta twisted her body hard and Templer found himself on his back with her straddling his hips. His outrider tensed in an instinctive reaction to being in a defenseless position. Templer tempered Azra's response with the sure knowledge that sometimes being on your back wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Chrysta did her best to prove his point. Sliding her hands along his arms until they were palm to palm. The woman started at his mouth. Nibbling, sucking, licking, and even biting, she worked her way over every inch of Templer's smooth skin that she could comfortably reach. The woman shifted her seat when she felt his sudden and intense approval of the stimulation. This brought the demon part of the mix a wonderful new appreciation for being in this particular position.

Shadow wings flaring in long forgotten pleasure arched Templer up. The Talon claimed the woman's now hot hands, pulling her down against his body at the same time. From there it was an easy thing to roll them both over. He pinned her underneath his body with the full length and strength of his lithe form. Between his strong, well trained fingers, gleaming talons, and Azra’s phantom touch they stoked and played her passion with a knowledge as old as time.

By the time Templer was positioned to take what was freely offered, Chrysta's eyes glowed like hot young stars. When he finally allowed his partner's body to rise as he entered her, the movement was accompanied by something that sounded suspiciously like a growl. This was eerily blended with the deep rumbles that emanated from both of her destria.

Azra proved to be nothing but endless lustful passion. Templer had learned patience during the long, tortuous years spent under whip and knife. With this he had forged a will of iron. Together they brought their lover up to the trembling brink time and again but did not let her ride over the edge. On the last climb, Templer stopped at the edge and shifted back. Chrysta followed him, her hips lifting with a soft moan.

“Mother of Demons... PLEASE... Templer!”

Black flared to gold and a dangerous smile shifted the gunman's beautiful features. As Constantine thrust forward in one long hard stroke, Azra buried his sharp, unnaturally elongated fangs into the juncture of her shoulder and neck. The taste of her smoky blood flooded his mouth as the woman bowed up hard against him. She muffled her physical scream by sinking her teeth into his shoulder but her mind reached out and locked both man and outrider into her link. Bound together by more than a physical connection they plunged over that edge and raced on the wild wind of savage pleasure that roared through their combined bodies and minds.

When that storm was finished with them, it gently eased them back into the physical world like feathers floating down on the soft breath of a breeze. Templer found himself with his body so totally entwined with hers that it was hard to tell where one left off and the other began. He carefully shifted to the side, knowing she would eventually be in pain with his full weight resting on her. Chrysta hummed softly under her breath and her green eyes opened slightly to see where he was going. They came to full awareness when she realized that he was planning to get up. She quickly re-wrapped her leg around his, effectively immobilizing him.

The gunman relaxed and with his thumb, wiped a little of his blood off of her lips.

“I will need to sleep tonight and I do NOT want to end up on my stomach, with your knees in my back again.”

She pushed herself up on one elbow, and her face was serious.

“I can pretty much guarantee that with the dreamleaf in your system, you won't have nightmares tonight. Stay here with me. There is nothing on this side of the river that can sneak up on us. If something does make it over the river, it will have to deal with two destria. If I get any inclination that you are having a night terror, I will go to the other side of the camp and let NUVA wake you up.”

Nuva snorted and her head shot around to give her handler an incredible dirty look.

Templer just looked at this incredible woman for a long moment then he lowered himself back down to gather her up with her back spooned against him. One strong arm reached out to snag a blanket and they curled up together under it. He stayed awake for a time, enjoying the simple pleasure of not being alone. Then he let his mind relax and drifted into a deep and dreamless sleep. As the fire slowly died he did not feel the phantom wing curve over the lovers, cocooning them in its soft, protective warmth.
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Link to next chapter
https://steemit.com/fiction/@fetherhd/to-race-the-wylde-wynd-ch-25