She has a very active imagination and he's been feeding it sexy gore for a while.

 The things she whispers into his ear are not optimized for encouraging self-control.

"Battles like that are so rough, aren't they? Appealing, yes, but... there's a crudeness to the wounds inflicted when all you want is to see them dead, isn't there? Not at all the same as opening someone up, carefully, as an artist, unfurling red as a scarlet rose."

"What an image," he says, gently wrapping his arms around her. "I'm not often so delicate about these things, but I can see the appeal."

"Well," she murmurs, turning so her lips almost brush his, "I'm not a swan. You'd need to be a bit delicate in any case."

"True. One of these days I should really build a better version of the swan spell..."

And then she kisses him. 

It's not quite the same as last time. For one thing, she's less tired.

Oh, excellent.

Good. Because she doesn't seem particularly inclined towards stopping.

"You are delightful," he murmurs between kisses.

"Mmhm. I know. Likewise," she murmurs in return.

He laughs softly and kisses her again.

"I'm so very glad I met you." Kiss.

Kiss. Positive nonverbal noises.

Ooh. Those are some good noises. He approves very much of those noises.

He can have some more of them, then.

Mmmmm.

"Is delicacy your preference, then?" he wonders. "Do you want to be made into art?"

"It's what came to mind. That doesn't mean it's the only thing I'd like."

Kiss. "I am very interested in what you'd like."

"I've never been able to safely experiment with broken bones before."

"Sounds like fun."

Ooh that face. "It does." Squirming can get added to her nonverbal-enthusiasm-expression repertoire.

He appreciates the squirming. He appreciates it so much.

"I should read you poetry more often." Kiss. "The effects are very enjoyable."

"Mm, it was the way you read it."

He kisses her again, and quotes, "A fountain, a river, a storm, so ran the blood on the battlefield—"

Squirm. Giggle.

Smile. Kiss.

Kiss. Slightly more aimed squirm.