There was pain, when Crowley thrust into him without giving him time to prepare for the assault. The pain was bearable, and only wrenched a cry from his throat before his body was pushing back, giving as good as he took. He knew he needed to keep up, or risk serious injury. Crowley was one of the few who could hurt him, if he let his guard down.
He rocked back, muscles squeezing to give Crowley some resistance. He grunted and growled, hands clawing at his lover's shoulders and back. He was mindless, caught in the dance of pleasure and pain, and yet somehow focused on the task of keeping Crowley grounded.