The tent is, as they say, a-rockin'. Thankfully there's nobody around to come a-knockin'. Even if it were possible to knock on the fabric that made up a tent in the first place, anyone around would be scared off by the rather violent sounds Rayla was making.
Really, if one didn't know any better, they'd think she's being slowly tortured. Which, in a manner of speaking, isn't entirely inaccurate.
"Ugh! Callum, why'd you stop?"
Poking his head out from under the sheets, the man in question crawls up toward her face, attempting to look lithe and agile as a young banther. It mostly works.
"So I can do this," he responds, pressing a kiss to her lips and pushing his tongue into her mouth.
He stays on her for long enough that she can get a good taste of herself, then breaks the kiss, moving down to suck on her jaw, then her collarbone, down to her chest.
One nipple, then the other gets attention in turn, and she's getting more excited, can practically feel herself sweat with anticipation, as he runs his tongue straight down the cleft between her breasts. He takes a particular interest in her navel, but she gets impatient and shoves his head further down.
He chuckles, and the sharp breaths tickle at the skin beneath her coarse hairs. That only makes her more needy, and her moans only seem to make Callum him more willing to scrutinize every inch of her before he actually gets where she wants him.
He's on his seventh or eighth long, languid lick of her leg- from her knee up until the very border of her aching folds- and his lips have nearly reached her center again when suddenly, he stops.
"Callum!" She throws the sheet off in frustration. "I swear to Xadia and all its people if you don't get on with it-"
She stops. Callum is staring at her- at her- like he's studying. Completely engrossed, he looks up at her face, then back down to her groin, a faraway, calculating look in his eye.
"What? What happened?" She asks.
"I... I..." Callum stutters. "I can understand the Moon Arcanum."
"... Get out."