He acts like an immortal but bleeds like a human.
You are reminded of this when you dig your fingernails into his back and bite down on his neck. When he gives you a sharp-toothed grin and returns the favour. When you pull the chain the holds his eyepatch in place hard enough to break, dropping it onto the floor, when the first wave of his true spiritual energy comes out and crashes over you. You gasp, sputter, and cling to him as he laughs. He can feel your shuddering, gasping breaths against his chest. Who is he to think he can do this to you? But it is impossible to pretend that you did anything to fight against what he is doing to you now.
Just like you can't deny that your mouth is watering as you push him down and mouth at the bandages around his waist. The whole thing falls apart with a tug at the waist - of course he's naked underneath. He's laughing at you this whole time, but loving it all the same. Your canines are sharp where you slide them against his erection. He curses and groans at the same time. If you hadn't taken the kanseikan out beforehand he would have broken them in your hair just then.
His cock burns your throat when you swollow it, eyes closed and fingernails digging into his thighs. You draw it out and in again and his muscles are tense with stillness. His breath hisses between his teeth as you take pleasure from him. His spiritual energy ripples through you, gaining in pressure as he comes closer and closer.
You let him go before he comes, and even though he knows to expect no different it doesn't stop him from cursing you hoarsely as he comes down from the high. Your vision goes white as your head bounces off the floor with a sickening crack, the breath leaving your chest from the sudden flip. Before you can recover, his wet fingers - blood? sweat? spit? - are digging under layers of fabric and pressing you open. You choke weakly and struggle away from the sudden pain, but he holds you there, only driving you harder for having taken him so far. His tongue leaves a wet trail on your cheek and you shudder, delighting against yourself at his hot breath against your eyelashes. You both know you will come quickly under his fingers, if he wanted to end it that way.
But it seems as though that will not be enough, this time. His erection is dripping pre-cum on your stomach, making it twitch and your balls ache. Before him you wouldn't have acknowleged, even to yourself, such a feeling.
Your voice is hoarse when you curse at him: "Touch me."
And your back arches high when he curls his fingers, ragged nails scratching inside. He smiles and smiles, drawing them out so that you slump to the floor again, and then licks them clean. You don't want to think about what dirties them, but it turns you on all the same. Then he uses that same palm to encompass your erection, squeezing and pulling beyond the edge of pain. There is an endlessly deep void of pain beyond that edge, one that you have been exploring together for a while now with no chance of getting bored. Every pain is different from the next.
You jerk hopelessly against his hand, back and forth until your gasps become cries and your touches become blows. His eyes are bright with violence and anticipation. There is a smear of blood along his cheek that you long to lick off, so you do. He looks like he enjoys it. There will be no stopping now.
He releases your cock only for a moment, to flip you onto your stomach and spit on his hand. He allows himself the pleasure of working himself for a moment, groaning with pleasure, and then that hand is on your hip. The other stands like a pillar next to your ear, connecting the roof of him to the floor. When you feel his head press against you you twist your neck and bite down on the muscled arm there. It is needed to keep your screams to a bearable level as he pushes inside.
He holds you up and takes his time going in, verbally fucking you with whispers in your ear the whole while.
"You love it don'tcha, whore princess, gonna cum with my cock in your ass, scream for me scream for me yessss...!"
And you do, you do it all. You feel like a rag doll, barely holding yourself together as he tears you apart. His spirit pressure makes you dizzy, you're on the brink, scream for him, and fall fall fall. Yes.
You must have passed out because you wake up with his weight still on top of you, his heavy, lazy breaths pressing his chest against your back. He'll fall asleep like that soon if you don't get out from under him. You push him off to the side and gasp when he slides, limp, out of you. Blood trickles down your thigh and you close your eyes, breathing slowly through the pain. You'll have to heal it yourself when you wake up, to avoid infection, but there's no way you can do it now.
He grumbles something half-heard, already starting to drool as he falls asleep on your floor. There is very little will in you to get up into bed yourself at the moment, though you know you could if you really had to. So you settle for appropriating his arm as a pillow and draw your captain's cloak over you in a semblance of modesty.
And fall asleep.