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Wyll's cheeks were more than burning - it felt like his whole body was as molten metal; as hot as the roiling lava flats surrounding the Adamantine Forge in the Underdark had been. He let out a slow, shuddering breath, his hand falling to his chest - the Blade could feel how frantically his heart hammered against his ribs, thumping like the drums of war. Desperate to break free. And the ache in his loins, oh, Gods -- he throbbed in his trousers, hard and straining. Wyll closed his eyes, hoping that a few deep breaths, a grounding of his person would allow the feeling to pass.
But it did not. No, it only grew *worse* with the awareness of his own body.
Every whisper of wind upon his heated flesh felt too much, yet not enough. He had never felt such *overwhelming* desire in all his life. Of course, he loved you - he adored his partner, and oh, his beloved definitely inspired no small measure of passion within him, but this felt... different. Like his entire being was screaming, pleading, and demanding all at once that he find you and ravish his beloved until the sun rose.
No matter how Wyll tried to ignore it - pacing within his tent, splashing water on his face, Hells, even palming himself through his trousers, it didn't go away. For half the hourglass's turn, he suffered in silence, trying to hold out... but it grew too maddening. That potion certainly hadn't been to inflict Darkvision, that much had become abundantly clear. Finally, unable to bear the ache of unquenchable desire any longer, Wyll sought out you. His love would understand, surely... perhaps... even help him? you was kind, loving. His shining star would know what to do.
Sidling up behind you, Wyll had to bite down a moan that threatened to spill forth at the scent of his love. It curled in his nose, permeated down to the core of his being. Every beat of his lustful heart sung you's name. His arms - strong, protective - curled around you's waist, drawing his star close. Close enough to press the hard length of his leaking, pulsing cock against the swell of you's arse. "My love," Wyll murmured, his voice husky and strained even to his own ears. "Please, may we find somewhere private? I -- I need to... to speak with you about something. I need your help, love."
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