Page 90 of Bought By Santa

I chuckle to myself when I finally find her; she’s lying naked on the marital bed, an ethereal figure bathed in the dim light. My breath catches; she’s so vulnerable, so beautiful it hurts to look at her. Her blonde hair fans out across the pillow like a halo, her soft curves illuminated by the moonlight seeping through the windows.

I can’t move, can’t think. All I can do is watch her sleep, feel the possessive pull tighten around my soul. My gaze roams over her, protective instincts warring with a darker, more obsessive yearning.

Fuck, I’m torn between the urge to shield her from the world and the desire to claim every inch of her. “Mine,” I whisper to the silence, a vow that is both promise and curse.

A curse because I suspect her sister is dead because of me, because I forced her into my life. Even as I think that, I regret nothing. Does that make me a cold asshole? Maybe. A ruthless knight, definitely. But I’m her Knight, and I proudly carry the scars on my chest to prove it.

Carolina stirs, a soft sigh escaping her lips, and I realize this moment is a crossroads between madness and salvation. I’ll choose her every time, even if it means painting New York red with vengeance. Because she’s the beacon guiding me through the darkness, the reason my world still has any light left in it.

“Nick?” Her voice is a whisper in the dark, laden with need. She’s awake now, gaze heavy-lidded but focused on me with an intensity that burns through my resolve.

“Go back to sleep,” I say, attempting to maintain control over my urges, but my tone is laced with the dangerous edge of a man on the brink. “I’m here.”

“Make me feel, Nick. Please.” Her plea scrapes against my restraint. Her tone is pure desperation; raw and painful.

I close the distance between us in two strides, my hands framing her face. “You want to drown out the pain?” I ask, searching her eyes for any sign of hesitation.

“I need you to make me feel,” she repeats, and I’m undone.

As quickly as possible, I get rid of my clothes before joining her on the bed. She pulls me down to her, and our lips meet in a collision of shared agony and yearning.

Her fingers trail fire across my inked skin, drawing me further into the depths where only she and I exist. I groan as she begins stroking my rigid cock, pumping it hard and fast. “Carolina!”

“Touch me,” she begs. “Please, Nick. I need… I need to feel something.”

Deepening the kiss, I push my hand between her legs, cupping her cunt. She isn’t wet yet, which tells me more than anything just how fucked her mind must be. I roll her clit slowly with two fingers, and I can feel the exact moment she becomes turned on.

Throwing her head back, she moans loudly, her hips chasing my hand as I pull back. “Don’t stop,” she pouts.

“Never,” I vow as I kiss my way down her body, lavishing each tit in nips, licks, and bites before I continue my journey south.

I don’t stop until I’m inhaling her arousal and her small landing strip grazes my nose. Her breath hitches in anticipation. I want to take my time with her, to make this about more than just the physical. My hellcat wants tofeel,and I want her to feel meeverywhere.

As I bury my head in her cunt, sucking her clit between my teeth, I feel the tension in her body, the way she’s holding on to something, and I know it’s more than just grief. It’s everything—everything she’s been through, everything she’s feeling or stopping herself from feeling.

She lifts her hips, urging me on, but I’m going to do this at my pace. So I place my hand on her pubic bone, pressing down so she can’t move. “Feel me,” I rasp. “Feel what I do toyou.” I inhale deeply, taking in the faint scent of her, something uniquely hers, something that always drives me wild.

I flatten my tongue, eagerly licking the length of her cunt, tasting her cream. Then harden my tongue, focusing on her needy nub while pushing two fingers into her slick channel, moving them in and out so slowly I know it’s driving her insane.

“Nick!” she complains, her fingers tangling in my hair, and I can feel the shift in her, the way she’s letting go, giving herself over to the moment.

I focus on her entirely; the way she tastes, the way she moves, and every little sound she makes. I want her to let go of the dark thoughts in her head, even if it’s just for a little while.

“Come for me, Hellcat,” I rasp, moving my fingers in and out of her faster, adding more pressure to her bud.

Her feet dig into the mattress beneath us, and she tightens her hold on my hair, pulling me closer to her opening. “More,” she demands. “I need… I need… Oh, fuck! Nick!”

I continue to lick and finger her through her orgasm, curling my fingers inside her so I hit the spot that has her mewling incoherently. I don’t stop until her trembles and moans lessen, and then I greedily thrust my tongue into her opening so I can drink her nectar.

“Fuck,” I curse as I rut into the mattress like a feral animal. I can feel the wet stain underneath me, but I don’t fucking care. Not when I have my mouth on her sex and my tongue inside her cunt.

As she pants, trying to get her breathing under control, I lick her pretty cunt one more time before I make my way up her body, biting each of her nipples before I lie down next to her and claim her lips.

I fucking love knowing she’s tasting herself, so I stroke her tongue harder, faster. The kiss is scorching. Grabbing her thigh,I throw it over my hip, angling myself so the tip of my cock rubs between her drenched folds.

“Are you ready for me?” I groan.

“Yes!” she moans. “Fill me with your big cock, Nick.”

---