Page 102 of Bought By Santa

It’s the same kind of box, just smaller. As I remove the lid, I’m taken aback. On a bed of crinkled paper lies—a plastic stick,its digital screen screaming one word at me: Pregnant. My heart doesn’t just skip; it ceases for a fraction of a second. A positive pregnancy test. My heir. Our child.

“Carolina…” The name escapes me, a breathless sound of wonder and disbelief.

She bites her lip, watching me with eyes wide, brimming with unshed tears. “I think… I think it’s a girl.”

A girl. A daughter. A tiny life formed from the most volatile parts of us both. Every Knight family superstition about heirs rushes through my mind, but they’re silenced by the thunderous beat of my own heart. A daughter—mydaughter.

“If it’s a girl, I’d like to name her Willow,” she croaks.

I can’t think of anything more fitting than naming our girl after the sister she sacrificed everything for. Carolina’s love for her runs deep, and now she wants to give our daughter a piece of that devotion, an anchor in this stormy life we lead.

“Willow,” I repeat, tasting the name on my tongue. It fits. It’s perfect. A flood of emotion washes over me, and for a moment, I’m adrift in it, lost in the vibrant blue depths of Carolina’s gaze.

“Is that okay?” Uncertainty creeps into her tone, and it grounds me, pulls me back to shore.

“Of course it is.” I reach for her, my movements decisive, my touch firm yet reverent. “This is the best damn Christmas gift I could have ever received.”

Her laugh is watery, joy mingling with relief. Then, I pull her close, our bodies flush against each other, the reality of the gift nestled securely between us.

I’m a man who’s walked through life with iron in my soul and steel on my tongue. But today, the sight of my hellcat and that small piece of plastic shatters every ounce of armor I’ve ever worn. Her eyes snap up to mine, ocean-deep and spilling over with tears. I drop to one knee, the lush carpet cushioning the impact.

“Carolina Sterling,” I say, and everything else falls away. It’s just her and me, and the promise of a little girl named Willow. “You’ve stormed into my life like a hurricane, tearing down walls I didn’t even know I had.”

Her hand flies to her mouth, a dam trying to hold back a flood. I reach out, taking her other hand in mine, feeling the tremor that runs through her delicate fingers.

“Today, you’ve given me more than I ever thought I needed. You’ve given me a future, a family.” My throat tightens around the words. “Marry me, Carolina. Not because of obligation or power. Not because I say so…” That makes her snort. “…but because you’ve stolen my dark heart and made it yours. Because I love you, now and forevermore.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath, and I watch as a single tear escapes, tracking down her cheek like the first snowflake of winter—delicate, pure, transformative. “Are you really asking me?” she chokes out.

“I am,” I confirm. It takes everything in me to allow her the option to say no. Ah, who am I kidding, that’s never an option.

“Yes, Nicklas, I will marry you.”

The proposal may be traditional, but what comes next isn’t. We’re not a couple forged in the softness of whispers; we blaze in the darkness, igniting with each touch, each word.

I yank on her hand, pulling her down to me, and when her legs give out, I cradle her, gently laying her down on the floor. “Thank fuck for that,” I growl before fusing our lips together in a deep, hungry kiss.

While our tongues dance, my hands roam over her curves, staking my claim. She eagerly spreads her legs, making room for me as my hand dives beneath the waistband of her shorts and cups her cunt. “Always so ready for me,” I rasp when I find her already wet.

As I take my time undressing her, she pushes my briefs down, squeezing my rock hard cock. “I want you,” she moans when I’ve removed all her clothes and I slide two fingers into her tight channel. “But I—”

“What do you want, Hellcat?” I groan, thrusting into her hand.

She bites on her bottom lip. “Now that I’m pregnant, I want you to fuck my ass.”

“Oh, I think that can be arranged,” I growl, my cock twitching in her grip at the mere thought. I’ve wanted to claim her delicious ass since the night I met her. “Turn around.”

She obeys, getting on all fours, arching her back and presenting herself to me, and the sight nearly brings me to my knees. I run my hands along her spine, down to the dip of her lower back. She shivers, her breath hitching as I roughly spread her cheeks and press one finger against her asshole.

“You want me here?” I ask, my voice thick with want.

“Y-yes,” she moans, pressing back against my finger, seeking more.

With a chuckle, I reach for the lube she so generously gave me, lathering two fingers and her puckered opening in it. Then I begin to slowly work my fingers into her opening. It takes some coaxing before she relaxes enough for my first knuckles to slip through the ring.

“Fuck!” she cries, her breathing labored, and I know she isn’t enjoying it yet.

“You’re doing so good,” I praise. “Just a bit mo—”

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