Dark eyes met his, face contorted by a host of sensations and emotions, heightened by the intensity of the day, the cool night air, the healing tingles that lingered all over her smooth alabaster-white skin. One of his hands came up, pressing firmly down on her throat as if to make sure she knew he meant business. Soon, her face was a lighter shade of pink as air struggled to make its way down to her lungs. The slight feeling of dizziness only heightened all the other sensations she felt. His other hand moved down to play with her clitoris, teasing the little nub with deft, expert motions. She couldn't really make too much noise what with the being choked slightly, but quiet moans still escaped the woman's lips, giving Donovan further impetus to continue.<br/><br/>Desperately, Dark Methuseld bucked against him as best she could, the rock scraping her back and ass slightly as she lifted up her hips to meet him, meeting his hips with the backs of her legs and spearing herself with his length. The slapping of flesh against flesh intensified along with the sensation of being filled so perfectly by his thick shaft. She could tell he was getting close to orgasming, but she wasn't done with him yet. She'd milk him for all he was worth tonight, desert and tiny camp be damned.<br/><br/>Her lips curled in a smug grin; she knew what she was doing to him - filling him with unbearable desire, challenging him to go even faster, to push himself to the limit and over the edge even as he tried to pull her down with him. His fingertip, covered in the hard skin of a lifelong warrior, brushed against the sensitive little bud of the flower again and again and again, relentlessly assaulting her womanhood on two fronts. Slowly, she felt something begin to creep up on her, heightening in intensity, emanating first from her groin and then from the rest of her, as if every fiber of her body yearned for nothing more than this. She was aware of it only faintly as her face grew even redder from lack of air, but knew it would make the eventual death all the sweeter.<br/><br/>Soon her dark eyes were the epitome of desperation - he had her where he wanted her, begging for the orgasm only he could give. She felt herself clenching around his length, tightening her hold on that wonderful spear as she felt its tip grow slightly, ready to erupt and claim what was his.<br/><br/>And suddenly Methuseld felt a rumbling, caught an Aza-shaped form running toward camp out the corner of her eye, felt that impending release fading. In the lapse of concentration, she was briefly aware that her lover must have just orgasmed, but her focus was too divided to appreciate it... Until it returned, a second later, leaving her feeling cheated of an orgasm and yet unable to fully deal with that situation in light of possible danger on the horizon. "<em>FUCKING HELL</em>" she shouted as the feeling faded, an unfulfilled promise of bliss replaced instead by a frustrated, simmering rage not unlike normal Methuseld's. "What's going on, fox?! What'd you do? What's coming?!" Sure as hell not her.<br/><br/>