This provokes an awful lot of squirming and a healthy dose of incoherent whining. 

Her pain is delicious. Her pleasure is almost as good. He bites her shoulder, strokes his hands down her back, grabs her hips to pull her down again—he wants to make her come, wants to feel her fall apart—

She bites through her lip trying not to scream, shuddering violently around him. A drop of blood trickles down her chin and drips onto his abdomen. 

He kisses her, licking the blood from her lips.

She kisses him back with all the fervor of a woman who has been forcibly Kool-Aid man'd through all her inhibitions in the past twenty-four hours, is deeply in lust with the person she's kissing, and still in the aftertremors of an extremely strong orgasm. And with good reason. 

With a shiver and a long, low moan, he comes inside her.

Afterward he wraps his arms and wings around her and kisses her again, softly, gently.

She melts. 

He smiles into the kiss and runs his tongue along her bitten lip.

She whimpers and squirms a little and catches his tongue lightly between her teeth for just a moment.

He chuckles.

"I like you," he says, hugging her again. (Her cracked rib protests the pressure.) "You're... delicious." Another kiss to her bleeding lip.

"I have no idea how I got lucky enough to meet you but I do consider myself very, very lucky."

"I'm glad." Kiss. "I want to keep you forever and I want you to like it."

"I'm definitely liking it so far! ...How forever is forever?"

"Oh, probably until I make a mistake and accidentally fuck you to death," he says, nuzzling her cheek. "But that could be centuries away or more; I'm very good at only killing people when I mean to."

"I like that kind of forever."

He giggles and pets her hair. "Good!"

"I'll probably miss you, after."

"—mm? Oh, right. Huh." He pets her again, thoughtfully. "In our world no one has any idea what happens when mortals die; I forgot it's different here."

"--No one knows? How...I guess if your magic was very different, but even so it seems odd to have no way of interacting with dead people." Shrug.  "I guess all that means is that I'm not very good at imagining magic as being very different."

He snorts. "Bizarre. When Endarkened die, there's nothing left of us afterward—nothing less than total destruction will take us out in the first place."

"I don't want you to die."

"Me neither." Snuggle.

Snuggle.

Thoughtfully: "Well, if you accidentally fuck me to death here, you can probably eventually find a cleric who you can bribe slash intimidate slash whatever into bringing me back."

...he laughs. "Oh, I'll definitely do that, then."

"Definitely find a cleric, or definitely fuck me to death since that won't actually destroy my reusability?"