No.

It was no use. Orus could not think straight enough to form any coherent plan of action. He only kept returning to the thoughts of sex, excusing it as a means to distract the Witch. After all, it did work in such a manner, as the woman was lost in the throes of her own lust, moaning and gripping the sheets beneath her.

Gwyneviere was as lost as he, if not moreso, her naked body thrashing in tangled white silk in a most erotic fashion. The maiden writhed, and the Witch did not fail to notice. Her own handiwork was taking over, and she seemed more than willing to reap its benefits.

Reaching out toward the girl, the Witch laid firm hands upon Gwyneviere's legs, prying them apart before her head of wild black locks to reveal the glistening flesh therein. As Orus rocked her back and forth, she leaned into the rhythm, intent on feasting upon that flesh.

Gwyneviere gasped, back arched sharply as she cried out with pleasure. The Witch's own moans were stifled within the legs that closed around her head. The knight watched the orgy as if a passenger in his own mind, unable to stop himself, yet feeling every reason to keep going as he fucked the pale behind of the one who inspired this sexual frenzy.

The wet sounds of sex and the cries of pleasure accompanying them filled the lonely tower. In the dark, hot bedroom, sweat and musk oppressed the senses none of the three occupants cared to pay attention to. They were lost, abandoned to their intercourse in that moment ruled by primal pleasure.

Throwing back her long tawny hair, Gwyneviere gasped a soundless cry as she dug her fingers into the Witch's wild locks, shuddering on the peak of orgasm. The woman in black's body rose with the deep inhale that stuttered with ecstasy. Orus could take no more, and thrusted inside her with three, punctual movements as he released himself.

For a brief, shockingly stark moment of clarity, the world was a dirty, chaotic mess. Orus had the sensation that whatever spell the Witch cast faltered, and his mind was free to think—truly think about escape. His sword was present and within reach, as was Gwneviere. Could he take advantage of the moment? Or was there something else to take advantage of...