Page 43 of Bought By Santa

“It seems there’s a tradition for buying women,” Arthur observes. “As far as I can see, there’s no issue with Carolina’s presence, or how she came to be here.”

Now that the King has spoken, no one says anything to contradict him.

The food and wine still have Jack’s undivided attention, and even Dad has turned away from the conversation. Deciding to follow suit, I begin to eat, but I almost immediately notice that Carolina hasn’t taken as much as a single bite.

I put down my own cutlery and grab her fork, stabbing a cut piece of meat from my plate that I lift to her mouth. She wordlessly arches an eyebrow, but parts her lips, accepting the food. “Good, isn’t it?”

She nods, and hums around the next bite I serve her; more meat with some potatoes and green vegetables. “Yes, thank you,” she murmurs.

While I continue feeding the both of us, I don’t pay attention to anyone else, or the conversation that sounds in the background. My sole focus is on the beautiful woman next to me, making sure she gets enough to eat.

Once our plates are empty, and everyone has had enough, the servers appear, clearing out the table before carrying in the dessert. Unlike the main course, the chocolate torte is plated.

The silver dessert spoon glimmers in my hand. Her breath catches when I lean in, my lips brushing her earlobe. “Open up,” I command softly, offering her a bite of the decadent dessert.

She complies, her eyes locked with mine, vividly blue and brimming with a wildness that speaks to my very soul. As she savors the rich flavor, I let my free hand drop beneath the table, settling on her bare thigh again.

“Nicklas,” she murmurs, a tremor in her voice as my fingers inch higher, higher, and higher. I don’t stop until I feel the heat from her cunt and the plug connecting with me.

With deft fingers, I remove the plug from her pussy, loving that I can feel wetness literally gush from her opening. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like torte?” I deadpan, feeling the heat of her as I stroke her gently.

Carolina squirms under my touch, but it’s pure pleasure that lights her gaze—a flame that reflects my own burning desire. I love how she responds to me; it’s a heady power knowing I can unravel her so completely.

We’re playing a dangerous game, one wrong move away from exposing our intimacy to prying eyes. But risk is part of the thrill—in business, in life, in this moment. Every gentle caress sends a message to her, to them, to the very air we breathe—I am hers, and she is irrevocably mine.

Her breathing quickens, her chest rising and falling in an erratic rhythm as I slide my fingers in and out of her tight, slick cunt. The tight coil of her arousal winds tighter, squeezing my digits as I delve deeper.

“Nicklas…” Carolina gasps, barely audible.

I cast a warning glance at her, my movements relentless. I won’t stop until she comes all over my fingers. And then, oh then, I’ll wipe it on the torte and feed it to her right in front of my family. Luckily, they’re all engrossed in their own conversations, too busy to pay us any attention.

As I coax her toward climax, I watch her struggle to maintain her façade of indifference. She bites her lip; her knuckles white where they clutch at the tablecloth. And then, with a shudderingbreath, she surrenders, her body quaking silently as waves of pleasure crash over her.

I remove my fingers and push the plug back inside her. Then, just as I promised myself, I smear her cream on the remaining torte. Before feeding her any, I take a bite myself. “Mhmm,” I groan. “Delicious.” Carolina’s cheeks are flushed with the aftermath of her release. My possessive gaze lingers on her, drinking in her vulnerability, her strength, her undeniable beauty.

She parts her lips, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. “You didn’t just do that,” she whispers. Then she straightens her back, meeting my gaze. “D-did it taste good?”

A wicked smile takes over my lips. “Oh, Hellcat,” I rasp, moving closer to her as I position more torte on the fork and push it into her mouth. “You have no idea.”

My cock is painfully hard, and I can’t fucking wait for this evening to be over so I can bury myself inside her, feel her weeping sex tighten when she comes around me. I’m pulled from my thoughts when her hand cups my length, stroking it.

“Let me help you with that,” she purrs, looking up at me with a smile that’s pure lust.

I wrap my fingers around her wrist, squeezing until she whimpers in pain, betrayal replacing her smile. “If I’m not coming inside you, I’m not coming,” I insist, almost unkindly. “All my jizz is for your cunt.”

“You’re attending on behalf of the family, right?” Dad’s voice is loud enough to garner my attention.

“Of course I am,” I reply smoothly, absentmindedly kissing the palm of Carolina’s hand.

I don’t need to ask him to repeat the question to know what he’s talking about. As the head of the Knight family, there are events to attend, and December is one of the busiest months forkeeping up appearances, for mingling, and for making people forget all the bad shit we’re involved in.

“Good,” Dad says. His cold gaze flicks from me to Carolina and back to me again. “You shouldn’t let anyone distract you from your duties. Especially not a woman.” I frown, not liking the thinly veiled threat in his tone.

Chapter 16

The Breeder

Iam freaking bored out of my mind.

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