Teasing brought the sort of tension that Lailithe could barely withstand. Couple that with the ice shaft inside of her, and she was in bliss already. There was no verbal response to his quips once again, but he could feel that her arousal was already reaching it's peak once again. Her voracious inner-thoughts were as powerfully hungry as they were with the lover that she was currently bobbing her head upon. Oh, and she was certainly bobbing her head-- because by now she had, as the Forsaken predicted, figured out the spell. Desperation for the satisfaction and pleasure drove her to pleasure the tauren with an equal fervor, and it lead to her eyes nearly rolling into the back of her head and a complete ignoring of her gag reflex.<br/><br/>This was, also in part, due to the fact that the Forsaken's tongue had made it's metamorphosis in her other hole. Now being tongue-fucked, ice fucked, and mouth fucked: She had only her instincts and desire to run the various functions. Never would she expect that entering this tavern would mean every hole being filled and a distinct loss of her mind from the endless pleasure, but gods was it the best decision she ever made. A part of her felt guilty that she could do little more than suck Molakatar off with zeal-- as the Forsaken was the one delivering the pleasure. It was just too much, all too much.<br/><br/>Cold sensation began to grow tollerable simply from a numbness to the pain, which only enhanced the pleasure to another level not yet thought of. Had she the ability to be wet, there's no doubt she would have made a puddle beneath her by now. So much arousal made her head spin and began to cloud her thoughts-- but she pressed on anyway for the sake of what was going to be the best fucking she'd ever receive in her life. Consecutively.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>