Yes

The tone of the gasp certainly left him with a sense of unease, and so Orus got out of the bed to find its source.

Once through the bedroom door he thought he heard a soft moaning noise, though from where he couldn't decipher. The top of the stairwell was pitch black, the shadowy corners invisible to his gaze. When he stepped in the direction he thought the noise might have come from, he found another door he hadn't been able to see before.

Slowly, the knight pressed his ear to it, listening intently to what might lay beyond. Eventually a creaking sound reached his ears, along with a soft panting. As he listened there came another gasp, one that wasn't the woman in black's voice.

He was immediately reminded of his duty—the reason he ventured out this far: to rescue the maiden Gwyneviere. That woman had made some concerning allusions, and despite her affection there was reason to think he had allowed himself to be distracted from them. Now, with new focus, he was intent on pursuing his quest unimpeded.

He tried the small handle on the mysterious door, finding it easy to open. Carefully, he stepped through, the space beyond in shadow. A single candle silhouetted the scene at the other end, flickering as unsteady as the panting voice echoing from that bed of straw and linen. Atop it, the curvaceous form of the woman in black crouched over the voice's source, someone revealed as he took another step: a tawny-haired young woman in a supine stupor, bare breasts glistening in the candlelight as they heaved with each sensuous sigh.

It could only be Gwyneviere.

Orus stood two strides behind the woman in black's shoulder, able to see her bare body adumbrated in the fickle glow, her hips between Gwyneviere's spread legs as she lowered them closer. Another moan was elicited, and the woman sighed her own pleasure with the motion. Her ebony locks, hanging past her pale shoulders, then turned slightly to the side. Orus met the woman's dark eye in the next moment, catching a hint of something between revelation and delight.

“Sir Knight,” she breathed. Her eyes turned down at the bed, and he saw, where the two women were joined, an unexpected sight. Glistening in the gloaming glow, a pale, erect cock was withdrawn from Gwyneviere's pink folds, the woman in black raising her hips with it.

Orus was certain that tool was not there before. With a perplexed crease of the brow, he stared, Gwyneviere writhing feverishly as the woman in black lowered one slender hand to grasp her new sex tenderly. “How did you...?”

She had a strange sort of smile, then. “Magic lets one resort to... interesting methods... Do you care to witness a demonstration?”