And she made him happy. In a way he'd never thought possible.
When he was with her, it seemed like something inside him wanted to fly. To laugh.
He was warm through and through.
"You know," she whispered. "I think I was wrong earlier. I think you have made me a nympho."
Zarek smiled at that and pulled his hand away from her so that he could open his fly and free himself from his pants. He shoved them down his legs, to his knees, but didn't want to dislodge her to remove them completely.
He raised her up and then set her down on him.
They moaned in unison.
It was so erotic to watch her naked above him while he was still mostly dressed. He lifted his hips from the floor, thrusting himself deep inside her warmth while he ran his hands over her bare breasts.
Astrid gasped at Zarek's hardness inside her. She'd pushed his shirt up so that his hard, muscled stomach was bare, but he was still fully clothed. His leather pants brushed against her thighs with every move he made.
His hands left her.
A few seconds later, she felt his soft fur parka against her bare skin as he draped it around her.
"I don't want you to get cold," he explained quietly.
She smiled at him, touched by his thoughtfulness. "How could I ever be cold with you inside me?"
He rose up then and wrapped his arms around her. His lips possessed hers with a fiery passion that left her breathless and weak.
Astrid cried out as she came in his arms.
Zarek waited until he'd wrung the last tremor of her orgasm from her before he sat up, still inside her and leaned her back against the floor.
Kissing her again, he quickened his thrusts, seeking his own peace.
And when he found it, he didn't close his eyes. He stared down at the woman who had given it to him.
She lay beneath him, breathing raggedly, her eyes unseeing, her touch enchanting.
He knew then there was nothing he wouldn't do for her. If she asked, he would walk through the fires of hell just to make her smile.
He cursed at the knowledge.
"Zarek?"
He ground his teeth as he pulled away from her. "What?"
She took his chin in her hand and turned his face toward hers, then she kissed him fiercely. "Don't you dare turn away from me."
He couldn't breathe as he felt her with every fiber of his being. Her bare bottom was wet against his groin, her skin cool against his.
But it was the warmth of her lips and breath that heated him.
The fire of her undaunted will. It burned through him, tearing away centuries of loneliness and pain.
" 'You know-my flower,'" he breathed. " 'I am responsible for her.' " He kissed her gently. " 'She doesn't even have four thorns to protect herself from harm.'"
Astrid listened as he quoted from The Little Prince. "Why do you love that book so?" she asked.
"Because I want to hear the bells when I look up at the sky. I want to laugh, but I don't know how."