Page 82 of Bought By Santa

I fuck her against the wall, each movement a testament to our dark, powerful love, pain and pleasure indistinguishable, intermingled. “Mine,” I rasp into her ear, feeling her tighten around me, her nails digging into my shoulders, marking me as surely as I mark her with every thrust.

“Yours, always,” she responds, her voice a broken promise, a vow that I feel down to my marrow.

Her desperation fuels my own. The scent of her arousal is intoxicating, driving me further into the abyss of our shared hunger. I’m relentless, pushing us both toward oblivion. I slam my lips to hers, biting and licking. Our kiss isn’t sweet and playful; it’s dark and domineeringly perfect.

I can feel her climax building again, her body coiling tight like a spring. And when she shatters, screaming my name, I follow, pouring myself into her with possessive fervor. “Take all of me,” I groan as my cum shoots from my dick, painting her insides.

Chapter 28

The Breeder

It’s close to noon when Nick and I finally step into the privacy of our apartment. The door shuts with a soft click, and I lean back against it, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over me like a thick blanket.

“I need a goddamn shower,” he murmurs, and there’s no arguing with that voice—deep, commanding, yet laced with something softer when he speaks to me.

Not that I want to argue. After two days in the hospital, and then a test that threatened to shatter my mind, a shower sounds like heaven.

I’m still not sure how I feel about the test. Relief it really was just that, a test, and that nothing happened to Nick? Or unease at not knowing what would have happened if I’d chosen wrong. The question gnaws at me, begging to be voiced. But I refuse since nothing good can come from that.

Deep in my soul, I feel that this is one question I don’t want the answer to. No, it’s better to focus on the victory, and then somehow move on.

As soon as we enter the bathroom, Nick switches the shower on, activating all the showerheads so the room is filled with steam in seconds. The sound of water cascading is soothing. He undresses quickly, and I watch the way his sculpted ass flexes as he walks into the shower.

Taking my time, I braid my hair so it’s hanging down my back. Although it feels greasy and dry, I refuse to waste time washing it. Then I undress, but before joining him, I brush my teeth. Trying to ignore the drawer with the pregnancy tests is futile, it’s calling me like a beacon. Giving in, I take one out and pee on it. Then I wrap it up in toilet paper and place it on the counter before joining Nick.

Under the warm spray, his hands are gentle, not the rough touch of the Mafia boss who rules with an iron fist, but the tender care of a man who knows every curve and contour of my body. His fingers glide over my skin, tracing paths of cleanliness and comfort. Even though he touches me everywhere, his touch isn’t sexual. Not that my body understands that.

My nipples still pebble, wetness gathers in my core, and my breathing turns ragged. Just as I feel his erection digging into my stomach. We both ignore it, too content washing each other.

It might sound silly, but this is the most intimate we’ve been. Sure, this man has eaten both my pussy and ass, yet it’s nothing compared to the way his gaze bores into mine while he washes me between my folds.

Returning the gesture, my hands run across the expanse of his tattooed chest, pausing at the scar spelling out my future initials. It’s perfect.

“Thank you,” I whisper, the words almost lost in the sound of the water. It’s not just for this moment but for all the moments since he saw me in the alley when I stumbled upon him and Jack in the middle of an execution.

He nods, understanding, and pulls me close, his forehead resting against mine. We stand there, holding each other in the warmth and the mist, worlds away from the harsh realities that wait outside.

After the shower, I wrap myself in a towel and use my hand to wipe the mirror clear of steam. The pregnancy test sits on the counter, a silent sentinel of hope and disappointment. I peer down at it, heart hammering.

Negative. Again.

The single word echoes in my mind, a stark reminder of the timeline closing in on us. Five days left, five days to fulfill a contract I’m no longer sure I’m even still bound by. My dreams of a rich husband to provide for Willow and me have morphed into something deeper with Nick, something real.

“Carolina.” His voice breaks through my spiraling thoughts, pulling me back to the present. He’s watching me, those dark eyes seeing right through me. “It doesn’t matter,” he says firmly, stepping closer. His hand lifts, his finger tracing the initials carved into his chest. A permanent mark, a promise. “We’re forever, so we have all the time in the world.”

I don’t know if the first part of what he’s saying is true. Something tells me it isn’t, and that the deadline for conceivingis as important now as it was when we started. But I still appreciate that he’s doing his best to put me at ease.

My heart clenches, emotions swirling—a cocktail of love, disappointment, and desperation. Here’s a man who burns the world for me, who defies his own ruthless nature to give me tenderness.

“Forevermore,” I say.

“Exactly,” he agrees. “Now that you’ve passed your test, there’s no rush.”

Rationally, I know that we’re tethered by a connection that goes deeper than any contract and timeline. Yet, I’m still disappointed. I wanted to give him this; the one thing he’s asked me for. I reach out, touching the raised skin of my initials, feeling the heat of his blood beneath.

“It will happen,” I stubbornly say, lifting my chin. “I’ll give you an heir before Christmas.”

“I’m sure,” he rumbles, the protective edge in his voice wrapping around me like a warm embrace. “But for now, how about we get some rest?”

---