It's on Him
Not only that, but it was exactly as he had said: there was no survival here, only pleasure. I had had sex with other immortals before but not in some time.
I had forgotten what it was like to not have someone else's thoughts in my head, to simply luxuriate in my own sensations.
We moved with a practiced rhythm, like our bodies did this together all the time. Those controlled strokes grew more savage, less precise. Harder and fiercer he brought himself into me, like he was going to go through the floor.
Someone was making a lot of noise, and I realized distantly that it was me. I was sort of losing track of what was around me, of coherent thought.
There was only my body's response, the building force that consumed me and set me on fire and still made me demand more. I longed for completion and urged him on, bringing my body up to meet his and clenching the muscles around him.