Demon attacks are rare.
Of course, a single traveler or a small group of them is so fantastically unsafe from such that no one in their right mind would do that in the first place, but large caravans are usually perfectly safe.
Shrug. "I might like somewhere softer to sleep but it's not really that big a deal."
"Oh, plenty." Kiss. "I like the spikes thing. And the fire thing. And that trick with my lungs, that's pretty amazing."
He kisses her some more, and takes one of her hands and sticks it down his pants where his cock is in the process of hardening. It doesn't normally have spikes, but...
"Mmmmm." She kisses him. She strokes his cock. If her hand gets a little fucked up in the process, so much the better.
When he is fully hard he pulls her hand out, kisses the bleeding palm, licks it lightly with saliva that stings like fuck in the wounds, and then pulls his pants down and sinks into her.
He starts moving in and out in slow, shallow thrusts that fail to qualify as "gentle" only because of the barbs.
"You inspire me," he murmurs.
He fucks her and kisses her and trails lines of fire up and down her arms and pulls the tongue version of the lung trick.
"Beautiful," he murmurs idly after he has finished and disengaged, tracing a claw down one of the burns so lightly it barely hurts.
"I should really figure out what to do next," he muses. "But lying here with you sounds so much more appealing..."
"When and how to get you out. Whether and how to do anything about the--general problem. Possibly mercy-killing some of the other prisoners," he adds somberly.