With her wings mantled over him as they are, he does not feel trapped; he feels safe, secure in this place, with her doing these things to him. Safe, even as he feels the threat of being driven towards madness by her overwhelming power and energy tugging at the edge of his mind and soul.

(He doesn't even care. He knows he should care, but he doesn't.)

He reaches a hand from the tangle of blankets to thread his fingertips into her hair, grip loose, simply seeking to deepen their connection as she pleasures him. Her Karma under his fingers, her heartbeat rhythm flowing through his own veins.