Page 50 of Bought By Santa

I obey without hesitation, slipping into the steaming bath. The water embraces me, warm and comforting, and I sink deeper, letting it lap at my collarbones. Nicklas watches me for a moment with those intense eyes before joining me in the tub, the water displacing around his powerful form.

He’s close now, so close that I can see the flecks of gold in his dark irises. Without a word, he takes a soft sponge and begins to wash me. His touch is gentle yet possessive, reminding me of who I belong to.

“Lean back,” Nicklas murmurs, guiding my body against his. He massages shampoo into my hair, his fingers skillful and tender. The scent of jasmine fills the air, and I close my eyes, giving myself over to the sensations—the heat of the water, the glide of his hands, the steady beat of his heart against my back.

While I let him wash my hair, I feel something inside me shift and bloom. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once. He rinses my hair, the water caressing my scalp in rivulets.

“You’ll learn to trust me,” he says suddenly.

“Maybe,” I allow, not mentioning that I did trust him when I let him fuck me in the swing.

“Good,” he says, satisfaction lacing his voice. “Because every part of you is mine, Carolina. To protect, to pleasure, to impregnate.”

After we’re done, and we’ve dried each other off, he asks me to wait while he goes to get something from the bedroom. While he’s gone, I do my best to shut my brain off, which is harder than it sounds. But right now, I don’t want to think. I just want to feel—to be present in the moment.

When he returns, he’s holding a small velvet box. “Will you wear this?” he asks as he opens it to reveal a beautiful diamond ring.

“Nick is that—”

“There’s a party coming up, and I want you to wear this.” His gruff tone betrays the urgency he feels.

“Why?” I ask. My heart is hammering in my chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Because I asked nicely,” he smirks. “Do you accept the ring?”

I don’t know why I end up agreeing, but with a nod and a whispered, “Yes,” I do. My lips part as he slides the ring onto my finger where it fits perfectly—like it was made for me.

Chapter 18

The Santa

The chill of the December air is nothing compared to the icy command that accompanies my entrance into the lavish Christmas party. The scent of pine and the soft tinkle of crystal are mere backdrops to the electric hum of New York’s elite acknowledging my presence. I scan the room, a predator among sheep.

“Nicklas Knight,” someone murmurs with a mix of reverence and fear. They know who I am, what I represent—the unyielding force of the Knight family.

I’m barely aware of the decorations, the garlands heavy with shimmering baubles and the grand tree towering toward the frescoed ceiling. My focus narrows on Carolina as she clings to my arm, still not at ease around other people. But as mine, she’ll have to get used to it sooner or later.

The deep red dress she’s wearing tonight, hugging her figure, flowing down to the floor and swooshing softly around her feet with each graceful step. The front is cut daringly low, held together by nothing more than a simple gold clasp that matches the glint of her jewelry, teasing the edge of elegance and allure.

But it’s the back of the dress that truly captivates me. It dips dangerously low, skimming just above her waist, leaving her back bare and smooth. The way the fabric clings, then cascades, is both classy and undeniably sexy. It’s a dress that demands attention, a perfect blend of sophistication and seduction, and on her, it’s nothing short of stunning.

My hellcat, my kitten, as graceful as any feline.

Every man’s gaze she attracts feels like a challenge to me, and the possessive beast within stirs, never asleep for long. Carolina looks up at me, her red lips curving in a knowing smile, a silent affirmation that she’s here for me—only for me.

Servers appear, one holding a tray with sparkling drinks, another two carrying hors d’oeuvres like stuffed mushrooms, smoked salmon, baked brie bites, feta and watermelon, mini crab cakes, and a lot of other small bites I can’t name.

I take a glass of champagne for myself. “Do you have any water?” I ask, nodding toward Carolina.

“Come on,” she whines, batting her lashes as she looks up at me. “Can’t I even have one glass of champagne tonight?”

Bending down, I claim her lips in a slow, deep kiss. “One,” I rasp when I pull back. “But only one.”

The smile she gives me is totally worth it, and it makes me want to beat my chest with my fists for being the reason it’s splitting her lips.

Since I lost my temper with her a couple of days ago, I’ve done everything in my power to make her smile—which is one of the reasons we’re here tonight. Among the guests is an esteemed doctor I want to introduce Carolina to.

We mingle for a bit, talking to people I don’t care about. Carolina seems interested, and she even lights up as she shakes the hand of a few celebrities. None of them impress me, but as long as she keeps smiling, I’ll put up with it.

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