Page 49 of Bought By Santa

Once we’re both standing, he takes my hand and leads me over to the sex swing, his eyes darken with desire as he looks between me and it. “Are you up for it?” I’m surprised he asks.

“I-I think so.”

He helps me into it, apologizing again when I hiss out a breath as I sit down on the leather strap. When I reach for the handles above me, he stops me. “No, I want you to lie back.”

My eyes widen, and I gulp, not reveling the idea of putting any trust in him or his ability to keep me from falling. “Can’t I just—”

“No!” he growls. “I want you vulnerable and spread out for me.”

With a sigh, I tighten my hold on his forearms, slowly leaning back until the second leather strap stops me. My breath comes out in quick puffs, sweat beads on my forehead, and a sliver of fear runs down my spine.

“Mhmm, Carolina,” he groans, his eyes glued to my pussy. My legs are resting on his shoulders, giving him easy access. “So fucking pretty.”

I preen under his heated gaze and words. My back arches on its own, drawing his dark eyes to my peaked nipples. “Touch me,” I beg, suddenly needing his hands on me.

When he moves, stepping closer, I dig my nails into his forearms, scared I’m going to fall down. “I’ve got you,” he assures me, and I see the truth in his dark orbs—Nicklas won’t let me fall, and if I do, he’ll either catch me or plunge with me. “Hold on tight, Hellcat. I’m going to raise you. But you’re not going anywhere. Trust me.”

I try to relax as he reaches up, pushing a button on the chain holding the swing. Even though he’s told me what’s coming, I scream in surprise when the chain tightens, pulling me up until my pussy is level with Nicklas’ hard cock.

“Are you wet?” he asks, already rubbing the tip of his dick against my drenched opening.

I’m not just wet, I’m soaked—in a place that’s far beyond turned on. I’m freaking needy; needy for him, for the pleasure he’s promising me.

As he finally pushes inside me, I cry out, the sensation so intense while I’m balanced above the ground. His hands move to my hips, grasping them firmly. Instead of thrusting, he pulls me toward him, sheathing his hardness inside me.

“Fuck!” he growls.

“Nicklas,” I moan. “Oh my God!”

The more we move, the more I relax, almost forgetting that I’m hanging up here. All I can focus on is the glorious feeling of his cock inside me, stretching. He continues to talk dirty to me, telling me how much he loves the feel of my cunt, the way I squeeze him. Each word makes me feel bolder, and… treasured.

No longer scared to fall, I let my hands fall from his arms so they dangle at my sides. His approving groan is the perfect reward. He picks up the pace, moving me faster and harder, our skin making slapping sounds every time we connect.

“Ahh, fuck. I’m not going to last much longer.” He furrows his brows like he’s trying to stop himself from coming.

I squeeze my inner muscles around him. “Come,” I demand. “Fill me with your cum. Fuck your heir into me.”

Giving up on moving me, he palms my tits as he impales me harder. Each thrust pushing me closer to the edge of oblivion. The swing moves with us, a pendulum of carnal rhythm, each sway amplifying the sensations until I’m lost in a sea of ecstasy.

“Your wish is my command,” Nicklas growls, kneading my breasts deliciously hard.

“Nicklas!” I cry out as waves of pleasure crash over me, his name a sacred incantation that binds us together.

“Mine,” he declares, his own release chasing mine, a testament to the depth of his possessiveness.

In the stillness that follows, the only sound is our labored breathing. We bask in the afterglow, skin glistening and hearts racing. Lying in the cradle of the swing, I’m held aloft not just by its sturdy straps but by the strength of what grows between us—something fierce and tender, something that might just be love.

When my body begins to feel uncomfortable, and I need to move, Nicklas lowers the swing but orders me to put my legs in the air. I do as he says, watching as he goes to get the plug. As soon as it’s back inside me, he helps me up. My legs feel like jelly, and he helps steady me. Then he retrieves his shirt and boxer briefs, handing me both to put on.

“I don’t want to risk anyone seeing what’s mine.”

While I put it on, I eye him. “I don’t want anyone seeing what’s mine either,” I clarify, pointedly staring at his naked chest. He might be wearing pants, but his upper body is just as enticing as his lower one.

He grins as he shrugs his suit jacket on. “This will have to do.”

Together, we walk back to our bedroom, and I let him guide me into the bathroom where he begins to fill the massive cornerbathtub. Thanks to the multiple taps, it doesn’t take long before it’s half filled. We undress each other, and I find that I like doing that to him. It’s like opening a present.

“Get in,” he commands, his voice low and husky, the dark allure that he exudes wrapping around me like a silken shroud.

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