Page 81 of Bought By Santa

Arthur steps forward, his gaze still sharp, appraising. “Well done,” he says, and I can hear the approval in his voice.

Caspian doesn’t offer me any words, he just sneers at me like I’m offending him by merely being in the same vicinity as him.

Well, fuck him.

I turn my attention back to Nick, tears flowing down my face, distorting my vision. “Nick,” I whisper, the gun falling from my hand.

Within seconds, he’s on me, his lips crashing into mine, his arms holding me so tight I can barely breathe. “I knew you could do it, Hellcat,” he groans against my lips.

Tears keep falling as we kiss, and I delve my hands under his shirt, needing to touch him with no barriers.

The Santa

My heart thumps with an intensity that belies my outwardcalm. The air is laced with tension, heavy with the scent of Carolina’s fear and the lingering echoes of relief. I watch her—my everything—with a hunger that tightens every muscle in my body.

“Get out,” I growl to the remaining men scattered around the perimeter. They hesitate, their eyes darting between me and Carolina, but one sharp look from me has them scurrying away like cockroaches under a spotlight.

As soon as the last man exits, the steel door slamming shut with finality, I pull Carolina closer against me. Her small frame trembles, her tears hot against my skin, but she clings to me, her lips desperately seeking mine.

“Nick,” she sobs into my mouth, her hands fisting in my jacket. “I was afraid I’d—”

“Shh,” I command, silencing her with another crushing kiss. My hands roam over her curves, gripping her ass, pulling her even closer. I can feel the pounding of her heart against my chest, a frantic beat that mirrors my own.

“It was just a test,” I murmur between kisses, nipping at her lower lip. “I was never in any real danger. Arthur would have stopped you if you chose wrong.”

Truthfully, I’m not sure what would have happened if she didn’t pass the test. I never asked because I never wanted to hear the answer. Knowing my dad, he’d find a way to twist it into some kind of sadistic lesson; possibly killing the both of us just for the hell of it.

But she doesn’t seem to hear me, lost in the swell of emotions, her body arching into my touch. I press her against the cold wall, my movement so forceful she lets out a small‘oomph’. She’s gasping, her breath coming in short bursts that fan across my face, her scent intoxicating—a mix of vanilla and something uniquely Carolina.

“Nick,” she whispers, her voice laced with desire and relief. “Please.”

I don’t need any further encouragement. I’m already consumed by the need to claim her, to erase the terror that had clouded her eyes just moments before. My name on her lips is both a plea and a benediction, fueling my desire to protect, possess, and cherish.

“Carolina,” I say, my tone rough with emotion. “You’re mine, all mine.” The words are more than a statement—they’re a vow, a promise entwined with a primal claim. It’s not just her body I crave—it’s her soul, her future.

“Always,” she breathes out, her eyes locked onto mine, a mirror reflecting back all the dark, tumultuous passion that courses through my veins.

“Say it again,” I demand, my voice thick with possession.

“I’m yours forevermore, Nick,” she repeats, her voice breaking on my name.

I watch, every muscle in my body tensed with desire, as Carolina leans back against the cold, unforgiving wall, her breaths coming in short, rapid bursts. The need for her burns through my veins like a wildfire. “Let me see you,” I growl, my voice laced with an urgency that reverberates off the walls. I reach for her pantsuit, clawing at the fabric until it tears down the middle.

With a final tug, the pantsuit falls to a puddle at her feet, revealing the soft curves of her body, the delicate skin I’m desperate to taste. My hands are on her before I realize I’ve moved, dropping to my knees as if in worship.

As I press my mouth to her slick cunt, she moans my name. “Nick!” Her voice is filled with need. My tongue delves into her channel, I savor her like the rarest delicacy, eliciting gasps and whimpers that feed the fire inside me.

“You’re perfect,” I say against her flesh, my voice vibrating through her. “So damn perfect for me.”

She writhes above me, her hands fisting in my hair, guiding me, urging me deeper, harder. And when she comes apart, screaming my name, it’s more than just pleasure—it’s affirmation, it’s possession, it’s everything.

“Fuck! I’m coming! I’m coming!” Her cry is a beacon, pulling me back to my feet, my own need a living thing inside me.

I don’t give her time to come down from her high before I command, “Take off my clothes.” My voice is rough with lust and love. And she does, with jerky, eager movements, stripping me of my barriers until there’s nothing left between us but raw desire.

Her breath hitches, her eyes wide and wild with lust as I grab her hips and lift her up. She immediately wraps her long legs around me, moaning as I push her back against the unyielding wall. She’s a tempest, a force that could either save or destroy me.

She rolls her hips, rubbing her wet slit along my hard shaft. “I need you inside me,” she begs. I thrust inside her, eliciting a keening moan from her lips. “Yes, yes, God, yes!”

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