Page 52 of Bought By Santa

“He touched what’smine.” I can’t keep the snarl from my lips, even as I feel her gentle squeeze, a silent plea for restraint.

“Please,” she whispers, leaning in, her breath warm against my neck, her scent enveloping me. It’s the only thing that reels me back from the edge, reminding me of what I stand to lose if I give in to the darkness that always lurks just beneath the surface.

“Fine,” I relent, the word more a growl than anything else. But I don’t take my eyes off the man who dared to lay a finger onher. He knows now, unequivocally, that Carolina is untouchable—except by me.

My blood’s still boiling, the noise of the party fading into a dull, inconsequential roar. With one nod directed at the corner, I seal the man’s fate. Marco slips out of the shadows from where he’s been guarding us. He quickly spots the man who touched Carolina.

“Let’s have a chat,” he growls, steering the man away with an iron grip.

There’s a ripple of silence as they pass, and eyes dart away, refusing to meet mine. Everyone here knows better than to interfere with Knight business.

“Hey,” Carolina murmurs, pausing until I give her all my attention. Her eyes lock onto mine, fierce and fiery. “I’m okay, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Damn right you’re not,” I growl, still too angry to fully appreciate the magnitude of her words.

“Come with me,” she says, tugging at my hand, leading me away from the crowd that’s too afraid to speak, too enthralled to look away.

I let her pull me to a secluded corner, the shadows embracing us like the darkness in my own soul. My chest heaves with each ragged breath, the urge to unleash violence still coursing through my veins.

“Nicklas,” she whispers, pressing close. Her touch is supposed to be soothing, but it ignites another kind of fire within me.

“You should keep your distance,” I warn, trying to steady myself, but she’s undeterred.

With a boldness that both infuriates and arouses me, she slides my hand under the hem of her skirt, guiding it until I can feel the cool metal plug nestled inside her. “Feel that?” she murmurs, her breath hot against my ear. “I’m yours. Only yours.”

That single reminder is a fuse lit to dynamite—my possessiveness flares, transforming the anger into voracious desire. My thumb brushes against her, feeling her body’s response to the plug, to my touch. The soft sigh that escapes her lips is a melody to my savage need.

“Kitten,” I rasp, my other hand gripping her chin, pulling her gaze to mine. “You’re playing with fire.”

She smiles, a daring curve of her lips that tells me she wants to get burned. “Then let me feel the heat.”

It’s a challenge, a plea, and I’m powerless to resist. I’m Nicklas Knight—I take what I want, and right now, all I want is her. The world fades away as I claim her mouth. She tastes like sin and redemption, and I’m a man starved for both.

“Nick,” she gasps between kisses, “make me yours. Again and again.”

Fuck, I love the way she said that. “Trust me,” I growl, “by the end of tonight, there won’t be a soul alive who doesn’t know you belong to me.” And I seal that promise with another kiss that leaves us both breathless and wanting more. Always more.

She sighs. “I can’t wait until the end of the night.”

I can’t help but marvel at the brazenness of her as her deft fingers work my zipper with a sense of urgency that matches the frantic beating of my heart.

“I need this. We need this,” she whispers, her voice thick with desire.

The cool air hits my hard cock as she frees me from the constraints of my suit pants and boxer briefs. Her hand wraps around me, pumping once, twice—firm and sure. It’s an echo of how she grips my world: boldly and without reservation.

“Hellcat,” I warn, my voice a low rumble, “don’t waste what’s meant to be buried inside you.” My mind is awash with images of her swollen with my child, carrying the heir to the Knight legacy.

She drops to her knees, her eyes locked onto mine, filled with a hunger that mirrors my own. The sight of her, ready to worship me with her mouth, sends a surge of primal satisfaction through my veins. When her lips encircle the head of my cock, it’s all I can do not to lose myself completely.

“I won’t waste a single drop,” she mumbles against me, sending vibrations straight to my groin.

“Fuck,” I groan, one hand fisted in her golden hair, guiding her, though she needs no direction.

Her mouth works magic, her tongue swirling and teasing until the pressure builds into an undeniable force. I can feel every inch of myself pulsating for release, and when it comes, she takes it all, every drop, her throat contracting around me.

But we’re far from done. As she rises, her kiss is fierce, claiming, and I taste myself on her—marking territory in the most intimate of ways. With a slick transfer, she passes back the cum she’d gathered, and the act sears itself into my memory. A carnal communion; a seal of possession.

“Get under my dress,” she huskily commands, her voice laced with determination. “Push it back into me. I want every part of you.”

---