Page 48 of Bought By Santa

I wait with bated breath, telling myself to prepare for more pain, but it never comes. It’s confusing when he chuckles and pulls me flush against him, his erection nestled in the crevice of my ass. “I love when you fight me, Hellcat. But there’s a time and place. And this isn’t it.”

This isn’t a fucking game, it’s my life. I’m not defying him for his entertainment, just as I didn’t sign the contract for his pleasure. I signed to give myself and Willow a future, and I fight him when I’m unable to bow to his will. It’s all about survival for me.

“What does it matter?” I huff, surprised to find I’m gradually relaxing more and more the longer we lie here. “You take what you want, do what you want, no matter what I say or do.”

He’s quiet for so long, I don’t think he’s going to answer me. “It’s a good question,” he finally says, sounding like he’s giving some serious thought to the answer. “I don’t know why, Carolina. Only that it’s important to me.”

I don’t know what to make from his words, but I find myself looking for a hidden meaning. Maybe it’s because he’s a man who always has to take what he wants. Could that be why he wants me to give it to him freely?

“Ask me,” I croak, my voice hoarse from all the screaming.

“What?”

“Ask me for what you want,” I say, my voice steadier now.

A squeal leaves me when he moves, grabbing my hips and positioning me on top of him. I wince, leaning forward as much as possible as to spare my ass cheeks. My long, blonde hair falls in a curtain around us as I bend my neck and look down at him.

“Why do you want me to ask you for what I already own?” he rasps.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Because you want me to give it to you. But I can’t give you anything you demand, that’s still you taking. So if you don’t want that, you need to ask for it.”

When he lifts his hand, I can’t help flinching, and his eyes darken, anger pooling in their depths. “I’m not going to hurt you like that again, Carolina. Never,” he vows. “I’m so sorry.”

Refusing to say it’s okay when it’s not, I bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to tremble. But it’s hard, and I don’t just mean his cock between my legs. The intensity and anger rolling off him is enough to drown me, fighting it feels like fighting the pull of a current.

He rears up, wrapping his arms around my back, resting his forehead against mine. “I mean it,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry.”

I get the feeling he hasn’t apologized to many people in his life, and it makes me feel special to know I’m one of the few. “Okay,” I say, still mindful not to say the action was okay.

He sighs deeply, still not looking away from me. “I still want to fuck you.” His length twitches between us, punctuating the words, and my pussy answers with a flutter.

Whether my head is in the game or not, there’s no denying my body wants this. Badly. “Me too,” I sigh. Admitting that feels wrong, like I’m fucked up for wanting him after what he did to me. “But I don’t want you to hurt me again.”

Maybe it’s stupid of me to say that since it got me in trouble the last time I did, but if he hurts me again, I’ll know his apology means nothing, and that his words aren’t to be trusted. Not that I should trust him, regardless.

He stretches so his forehead is no longer level with mine, and then he freaking licks the sweat from my forehead and eyebrows. What the hell! “I’ll always want to hurt you, and I know you can take it, Hellcat. But no, I won’t let my temper get the better of me again.”

With boldness I don’t know where it comes from, I push him down so he’s lying flat on his back. Gyrating my hips, I drag my drenched slit along his thick, throbbing shaft. “I said no,” I hiss. “No more pain.”

“And I told you not to deny me,” he growls.

I open my mouth, ready to argue more, but he rears back up, capturing my lips in a scorching kiss. His tongue wrestles mine into submission as he licks at every corner of my mouth. My hands are on his shoulders, and when he cups my sore ass too hard, I hiss while instinctively digging my nails into his skin.

He growls, kissing me harder, and I moan into his mouth, the burn on my backside morphing into a level of pleasure I didn’t even know existed. It hurts, yes, very much so. But each painful throb makes my inner walls contract. We’re caught in a viciouscircle, one where more pain means more pleasure, and more pleasure means more pain.

“Nick—” Another moan cuts me off.

“I need to be inside you,” he rasps.

“Yes,” I agree. Then I reach for his length, wanting to put him inside me, but he stops me.

“Not on the bed.”

I lean back, blinking in confusion. “But this is the bed where we’re meant to conceive your heir,” I say, dumbfounded.

He doesn’t question how I know that, probably figures it’s from the diary. Or maybe he has read it and knows for certain. “There’s something else I want to try today,” he says.

Carefully, I climb off him, doing my best to jostle my ass as little as possible. I’ve never noticed how much you use it or move it until trying to avoid it, which is basically impossible.

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