Donovan moved with the careful slowness that portrayed a smooth patience, when in fact he was just being wary. He wouldn't be surprised if, at any moment, she reached up and slapped him across the face for being so bold – but until that happened (or some other warning was issed), he was going to proceed.<br/><br/>Certain parts of his body -demanded- it.<br/><br/>He had a sense, though, that this dark creature was somehow holding back, as if part of her wanted to leap at him, while the other part was content to sit back and see what he did.<br/><br/>With the belt gone, her body put on a display that made it clear what she was wanting. Her hips rose, lifting her ass up off the rock beneath her, her core moving toward him as if to put herself with easier reach of his hands. Setting the belt and her sword aside, his eyes never leaving her, his hands returned and began to unlock the last barrier.<br/><br/>She lowered her ass back down to the boulder's rough surface and a few moments later, he felt the clasp give way. Finally his gaze moved, sliding down her body, eager to see if her snatch was human – or something else entirely.<br/><br/>She was bare, her mound a smooth ramp of soft skin that looked almost -too- perfect. Just below that, his eyes settled on the prize, a small, intimately pink flower that looked like perfection. Instantly his mouth salivated, the urge to lower himself and gently lick each of her petals filled every corner of his being, but she was already showing signs of impatience. And in truth, he could certainly relate to that.<br/><br/>Her voice almost startled him, his eyes pulling away reluctantly to meet hers again as she asked if he liked what he saw.<br/><br/>He nodded silently. Complimenting her would mean nothing. She knew she was enticing, she knew he wanted her – she likely -expected every man- to want her, and, hell, he knew Aza wanted her, as well. His eyes caught the movement of her own hand as it slid down her lithe body, and his eyes followed it, his attention focused on what she was doing as she skilfully used two fingers to part her folds, covered in what one might consider 'dew'. She spoke again, asking how things looked, urging him to inspect further...<br/><br/>And he didn't need to be told twice.<br/><br/>His hands moved to his own belt, unbuckling it quicker than he had undid hers. He made quick work of it, setting it and his weapons aside, then began to work on the smaller belt and buttons of his leather breeches. With the sword belt gone, the dark outline of his straining member was far more visible now, confirmation that he was, indeed, eager for what hopefully awaited.<br/><br/>“Good idea,” he replied softly as the buttons popped free one by one. “But I'll need a different sort of instrument, one with far greater reached than fingers or tongue,” he explained.<br/><br/>“<em>Much</em>greater reach...”<br/><br/>His leathers and the thin linen garment he wore beneath them were carefully pushed down his hips, then his thighs. His cock sprang free, as if making its escape from some prison that had held it confined for far too long. He was well-endowed – far from being freakishly huge, but generous enough that no one would label him 'average'. His sack hung beneath, his stones of generous size just as his length was. His tool curved slightly upward, the bulbous tip plump and ruddy red in color, engorged as it was.<br/><br/>He moved slightly forward, hips maneuvering with ease, until the warm spongy tip of his glans lightly grazed along the back of her hand and down between her fingers – so achingly close to her entrance now as his hands next moved to rest on either of her thighs – gently prying them apart even further, as if anticipating that he would need to spread them as wide as they might go...<br/><br/>Donovan's eyes remained on hers, now, watching for every reaction, every hint of emotion he could read, prepared to stop if she demanded it... but silently praying that she wouldn't.