Dimitraeus was boneless when the demon climbed in and straddled him over his waist. He cried out, only this time in pleasure when Kane pushed his fingers inside. He really was going to try his damnedest not to heal up so Kane could treat him like the filthy, loose whore he turned into around him. Then he was seated on his cock, and his head fell back onto that hot shoulder. "Seven hells," he keened, eyes rolling as pain and pleasure mixed with the promise. "I'm not sure I can do that," he said, voice slightly hoarse. When Kane resumed healing him, Dimitri let out more breathless cries. God he could barely move, which was embarrassing. Not asking permission, though Kane could definitely stop him, he moved to grab his arm and bite back down on his wrist.<br/><br/>He was definitely healing, hard and needy. Dimitri needed the blood, but also just wanted that connection. Tears streamed down his face, an equal mix of pain and pleasure. It felt surreal, but he tried not to go into subspace. It wouldn't do him any good to be a mindless tool at the party. Restless, he tried to move, but he was so exhausted. It was humiliating how little he could do right now. Unless Kane had stopped him, he'd take what he needed. "Move. Fucking move dammit." He was feisty, restless, but also tired and horny. Damn Lucifer picked a horrible time for a party. All he could do was rock his hips, full of Kane's cock. His walls clenched loosely around him and his own cock leaked. As he healed, the burned flesh sloughed off into the water. It wasn't pleasant smelling, but Kane's scent was more concrete and overpowering.