Bought By Santa (Seasonal Obsessions #1)

Chapter 21

The Breeder

A s I enter the office, I find him sitting at his desk, his hands interlaced behind his head. He’s smirking like me being here is amusing to him, and for some reason, that rubs me the wrong way. “Took you long enough to make up your mind,” he drawls, pointing at his laptop that’s facing him.

I walk around the desk and look at the screen, which shows the place where I just stood while knocking. “You watched me?” I ask, incredulously. “So you knew it was me. Why didn’t you say I could come in?”

Shrugging, he replies, “I shouldn’t have to. You’re going to be my wife, Kitten. Everything I own is yours, including my heart.”

“But what does that mean?” I ask. “If you think that means I’ll allow your dad to stick his fingers inside my vagina you better think again.” For good measure, I slam Sienna’s diary down on the desk.

Arching an eyebrow, he looks up at me with anger twisting his normally handsome features. “What did you just say?” His tone is low, dangerously so.

Instead of letting him intimidate me, I start rambling about the diary entries I’ve just read, repeating that I refuse to let Caspian or anyone else touch me. “And you can forget about selling me. I might be yours, Nicklas, but that’s it. I’m not a toy you can share around, and I’m definitely not entertainment for the entire family.”

The more I talk, the more worked up I get. As I continue to rant, my tone grows louder until I’m shouting at him. I know it’s not actually him I’m upset with, yet I can’t make myself stop. I have all these confusing feelings warring inside me, making it impossible to sort through anything. So instead of even trying, I just lash out.

“Are you done?” he asks when I pause to take a deep breath.

“Done?” I scream. “I’ll show you fucking done.”

I grab the nearest object—a heavy paperweight—and hurl it across the room. It shatters against the wall, pieces scattering across the floor, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink. Unable to stop, I reach for anything within my grasp—books, pens, a glass that explodes into shards when it hits the ground.

Each crash echoes my own breaking heart. “Why won’t you say something?!” I’m shrieking now, the words raw and ragged. My hands are trembling, tugging at my hair as if I can tear the pain out of my skull.

But he just sits there, behind his desk, his face a mask of stone. The silence between us is unbearable, choking me, and all I want is for him to react, to show me something—anything—that he feels this too. That he can see how desperately I need him to put me back together.

“Please, Nicklas,” I whisper, my voice hoarse and broken. “Please, just… say something. Do something. I need you. I need you to care.” I collapse onto the floor, my strength leaving me as the sobs take over, shaking me to my core.

My knees barely hit the floor before he’s out of his chair, looming over me. Grabbing my arm, he pulls me onto my feet and quickly pushes me up against the wall. “Now you’re done,” he rasps, his eyes no longer uncaring. “You can accuse me of many things, and you’ll probably be right. But the one thing you don’t get to question is how much I care for you, Hellcat. I’ve told you that you’re mine. I’ve told the world that you’re mine. I’ve put a damn ring on your finger. What more can I do?”

“Tell me you won’t let your dad—”

“Stop!” he roars. Anger rolls off him in palpable waves, but I refuse to cower. “I refuse to believe you actually want an answer to that.”

“Why?” I scream back.

Lifting his hand, he wraps it around my throat and squeezes. “Do you know what I did after you fell asleep last night? I killed the sorry son of a bitch who touched you at the party. That’s two men I’ve killed for you, Kitten. And you know what? I’ll kill two a day, every hour, every fucking minute if that’s what it takes for you to finally understand that you. Are. Mine!”

The way my breath hitches has nothing to do with his hold on me, and everything to do with the dark and alluring words he speaks. “You killed for me again?” I ask, licking my lips.

He nods. “And I’ll continue to do it. But the one thing I won’t fucking tolerate, is you basically asking if I’m going to allow my dad to touch you in any way. Ask me again, and I’ll take it out on your ass.”

I whimper—honest to God whimper.

A dark chuckle leaves him. “Maybe you want me to?”

Do I? I don’t know, maybe… but no. That’s not why I came in here. Shaking my head, I say, “Your mom’s—”

“I know what it says,” he growls. “I’ve read that damn thing end to end a thousand times. I know what happened to her. But that’s her story and not yours.”

Nodding, I do my best to process his words. “So none of it—”

Again, he interrupts me. “You’re misunderstanding me, Kitten. Most of the things that happened to her after being bought by Dad will also happen to you. But I can guarantee you that one of them won’t be me sharing you. Not with my dad, not with any-fucking-one.” He adds pressure to my throat, making it so I can barely breathe. “Nod if you understand.”

I eagerly nod, and as he slams his lips against mine, I pour all my fears, my insecurities, and everything in between into the kiss. I nip at his lips, breaking the bottom one. But I don’t care, not even when he does the same to me and our blood mingles in both our mouths.

While we kiss, I claw at his clothes, eager to get them off. Not just because I’m so incredibly turned on and wet, but mostly because I want to feel him—need it, need him.

Nick’s the one to break the kiss. We’re both panting like we’ve run a marathon when he rests his forehead against mine, squeezing his eyes closed. “You know what I am,” he rasps.

The air in Nicklas’ office is thick with tension, a living entity that wraps around me like a vise. I stand before him, my heart thundering, demanding the truth about the blood that stains his hands and the dark empire he commands.

“Tell me everything,” I say, my voice steady despite the tremor of nerves beneath my skin.

With a heavy sigh, he carries me over to the desk and sits me down on it. Then he sits back in his chair, the movement predatory, deliberate. His dark eyes lock on mine, revealing nothing and everything all at once.

“You want to know about the Knight family?” His question isn’t really a question; it’s an opening gambit.

“Yes.” I swallow hard, bracing myself.

He slides the chair closer, and I fight the urge to retreat. This is Nicklas in his element—raw power, barely leashed. “We are the unseen hand that guides the underworld. Our reach extends far beyond what you can imagine, Carolina.”

“Human trafficking,” I say, remembering the scribbled words from Sienna’s diary and the ones Arthur spoke at dinner. “You buy people.” My words hang between us, heavy with implication.

“Once, yes. The world changes, and we adapt. Now, our endeavors are… different. Actually, there’s still one place…” Trailing off, he shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. But our goal has always remained the same—to maintain control, to ensure our dominance.”

“And the killings?” I press on, my pulse racing.

He chuckles. “Are you put off by them or intrigued?” He reaches out, his fingers brushing against my cheek.

I should recoil, but instead, I lean into his touch. A part of me revels in the danger he represents, drawn to the darkness like a moth to flame. It’s a revelation that sends a shiver down my spine—not of fear, but of something far more complicated.

“Not put off. I’m… intrigued,” I admit, licking my lips. “Especially not the ones you’ve done for me. It’s… I think I like it.” If he’s going to be completely honest, it’s only fair I am as well. And as messed up as it is, that’s how it makes me feel.

“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for the Knight legacy; for our future.” His voice drops, a husky whisper that sends heat pooling low in my belly. “For you.”

I look up into his face, seeing the raw honesty there. “And if I asked you to stop? To walk away from it all?”

“You wouldn’t.”

“But what if I did,” I insist. I don’t know what drives me to ask again. Maybe it’s because of the words I read in Sienna’s diary, a hidden need for more reassurance that her story won’t be mine. “What if I asked you to stay home from a business thingy. Would you do it? Stay with me, I mean.”

“I already have,” he replies. “I’ve missed a lot of business to be with you. Ask me if I fucking care.”

“Do you care?”

He lets out a mirthless and gruff laugh. “I should. The Knight family is supposed to come first. But I…”

As he seemingly struggles to find his words, I finish the sentence for him. “But you don’t.”

“I don’t,” he agrees. Then he sighs. “You need to understand that I can never let go completely. It’s not just business. It’s who we are—who I am. I am the Knight family, just as it is me.”

Morality is a pesky thing, and right now, I’m torn between the morality I should feel, and the complete lack of it. I look at the man before me—a man willing to spill blood for power, yet who holds me as if I’m the most precious thing in his world.

“You’re right,” I confess. “I won’t ask you to stop.”

“Does this not scare you?” His question is soft, almost vulnerable.

“Should it?” I counter, a hint of my own bravado creeping into my voice.

“Most would run from this truth.”

“I’m not most people,” I reply, and it’s true. The darkness doesn’t repel me; it beckons, promising a depth of passion and devotion I’ve never known.

“Then let us be unapologetic in who we are,” he says, closing the distance between us. His lips capture mine in a kiss that seals our fates, binding us tighter than any vow.

In this moment, I realize the gravity of our connection. With every brush of his lips, every whispered promise, I’m falling deeper into a world where morals are painted in shades of gray, if not black—a world where I belong, entwined with the enigmatic and dangerous Nicklas Knight.

He ends the kiss too fast for my liking, and I whine at the loss of his lips on mine. He stands before me, a dark god in his tailored suit, which looks good although I tore at it not too long ago. His eyes are blazing with intent, the hunger in his gaze is almost palpable and it sends shivers cascading down my spine.

“Take your dress off,” he growls, his voice low and rough.

When I got back from taking Will to see Dr. Hargrove, I changed into a sexy, black dress, which now proves to have been a great idea. Without looking away, I slide the straps down my shoulders, licking my lips as I stand up as well. I pull the dress down until it pools at my feet.

My nipples are already hard, and he quickly pinches them, making me moan and arch my back as I unclasp my bra and discard it. I’m now standing in front of him, completely naked. His strong hands grip my hips, easily lifting me back onto the desk before spreading my legs apart as he leans in close.

His mouth hovering over mine, close enough I could stick my tongue out and lick the seams of his lips, still it feels too far away. The anticipation is maddening, but I don’t have to wait long. He captures my lips in a searing kiss, demanding and possessive, and I melt into him, lost in the heat of our connection.

“Nick,” I moan against his lips, “I need you.”

“Every inch of you is perfection,” he murmurs, trailing kisses down my neck and across my collarbone. At the same time, he reaches down and quickly removes the plug he still insists I wear.

Then he kneels before me, his head level with my core. My breaths come in short gasps as his tongue darts out, teasing at the sensitive flesh there. A moan escapes my lips, and he looks up at me, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“Tell me what you want, Kitten,” he commands, his voice laced with desire.

“Eat me out,” I demand, the words tumbling from my lips in reckless abandon.

Without hesitation, he obliges, his mouth expertly working over me, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him close, desperate for more.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he groans, his tongue dipping deeper, exploring every fold and crevice.

I lean back so I’m resting on my elbows, loving the way he looks up at me from between my legs. The look in his eyes is that of a man who’s doing something he loves, and fuck if that isn’t hot.

“Nicklas!” I gasp, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. “I’m so close.”

He hoists my legs over his shoulders, adjusting his position so my ass is lifted off the desk. Then he pushes two fingers inside me, making me see stars with each pump. My orgasm is so close, I just need a bit more and then…

“W-what… why?” I cry when he retrieves his fingers. I’m immediately missing them inside me.

Then I feel them at my puckered opening, and this time I don’t try to stop him. Not because of what happened last time, but because I get it. He wants to claim me everywhere, fill every hole I have—and I want the same.

“Relax for me, Kitten,” he groans as he pushes his finger inside me.

I’m trying, I really am. But the intrusion feels so foreign it’s damn near impossible when my body wants to clench automatically. “I’m trying.” There’s absolutely no enjoyment to be found in what he’s doing, and I have to stop myself from moving away from his probing fingers. “It hurts,” I hiss.

“Get on your hands and knees on the table,” he commands, and I quickly do as he says, eager to stop the failed experiment.

Once I’m on all fours, he runs his hands from my shoulders to my ass cheeks, gently squeezing them. They’re still sore from three days ago. Suddenly, his tongue is between my legs, lapping at my opening.

“Oh God!” I cry, arching my back, eager for more. I try to look at him over my shoulder, but I can’t see him.

He continues to fuck my pussy with his tongue, and it doesn’t take long before I’m shaking, barely able to keep myself upright.

“Come for me, Hellcat. Let go,” he urges, his fingers joining his mouth in their relentless pursuit of my pleasure.

And then, I’m breaking apart, my body convulsing in bliss as I shatter beneath his touch. But Nicklas isn’t done with me yet. While I’m coming down from my high, I feel his tongue licking from my drenched channel all the way back to my tight opening.

“Nicklas!” I gasp, embarrassed to have his tongue right there.

Undeterred, he licks the rim before hardening his tongue and working it inside my ass just as he slides two fingers into my weeping pussy. I’m on sensation overload, my brain shutting down as all I can do is feel what he’s doing to me. And damn, it’s so… filthily perfect.

I arch my back, eager to get him deeper, in both holes. When he removes his tongue from my ass and replaces it with a single digit there’s no pain. Only a burning, uncontrollable need for more; more of him, more of the pleasure coiling deep in my stomach.

“That’s it,” he praises. “The sight of my fingers disappearing into your tight ass is pure perfection.”

If this is what perfection feels like, I’m going to strive for it every single day for the rest of my life. I want to tell him how good it feels, but I can’t make any words come out of my mouth, only garbled, nonsensical words that are really more like animalistic noises.

Nick picks up his pace, making the coil inside me intensify. It feels like it’s growing, and I feel an overwhelming need to pee. “Wait… stop… I need to…”

Instead of stopping, he fucks me harder, adding a third finger to my pussy, and a second finger to my ass. This time the burn is exactly what I need to take me over the edge again. I cry out his name, mewl, and scream as my entire body tenses.

Then it releases, and I can’t stop myself, I let go and liquid sprays from me like never before. What I thought was a need to pee wasn’t that, it was something else entirely.

“Fuck!”

I’m barely aware of Nick removing his fingers from my openings, inelegantly shoving my legs wider as he… wait, what is he doing? I feel his lips close around my entire sex. Oh… he’s drinking me down.

“Give me more,” he demands, like I have any control over it.

I’ve never done that before, so I don’t know if there’s any way for me to control it. I still give it a try, pushing to see if more comes out, and it does. His appreciative groans and moans go straight to my pussy, making more wetness seep out of me. It’s like a delicious and intense circle that just keeps looping.

“No more,” I cry when it’s finally too much. “P-please.”

Even though I can’t see or feel it, I just know he’s smirking. “Are you sure?” he rasps, sliding out from under me.

I awkwardly move around so I’m on my back, my legs dangling over the edge of the desk. I look up at him, loving how dark and intense his eyes are. It makes me feel like he’s all-seeing, which I’ve come to learn I love when it comes to me.

“Why? What do you have in mind?” I ask playfully, palming my breasts as I pointedly stare at the crotch of his suit pants. Even though the fabric is dark, there’s no mistaking the wet patch. “Did you come in your pants?”

“No,” he rasps. “But it was close. Christ, Kitten, when you squirted…” Trailing off, he closes his eyes, a rumble sounding from deep in his throat as though the mere mention is bringing out his feral side. “But I’ll always save my cum for your pretty cunt. You know that.”

I watch mesmerized as he quickly undresses. When he removes his pants, his cock springs free; it’s so huge. Every time I look at it, I marvel at the fact that it fits inside me. It should be an impossibility, but luckily it’s not.

“Get that inside me,” I moan, pointing right at his rigid member, resisting the urge to lick my lips as it bounces with every step he takes closer to me. “Now.”

Positioning himself between my spread legs, he leans down, placing his lips close to my ear. “Tell me what you want,” he growls, his words vibrating against me.

“I want you to fill me with your cum. All of it. Shoot your load deep in my pussy,” I gasp, lost in the whirlwind of sensation of his hardness pressing insistently against my core.

“Turn around,” he orders, his voice thick with lust. “Brace yourself on the desk.”

I obey, my mind cloudy with need. He positions himself behind me, his hardness pressing against my entrance. With one swift thrust, he fills me completely, eliciting a cry from my lips.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he grunts, setting a punishing rhythm. Each stroke drives us further into a frenzy of passion and possession.

“Please, Nick, I need your cum inside me,” I plead, my nails digging into the wood of the desk.

“Anything for you,” he promises, his movements growing more frantic as we chase release together. “Come for me, now. Milk the cum from my balls with your cunt.”

“Nicklas!” I scream as another orgasm rips through me, my walls clenching around him.

“Carolina!” he roars, his release hot and potent within me, marking me as his own.

We stay like that for a few moments, panting; the air charged with the intensity of our union. Slowly, he pulls away, turning me to face him, his eyes softening.

“Nothing has ever felt so right,” he confesses, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face.

“Me too,” I breathe out, still reeling from the depth of our connection.

Later, alone in the bathroom, I hold my breath as I wait for the result of the pregnancy test. The familiar single line appears, and my heart sinks. Negative, again.

“Damn it,” I curse under my breath, fighting back tears.

Frustration and determination mingle within me. This isn’t the end. I will bear Nicklas Knight’s child, no matter what it takes. I glance at my reflection in the mirror—a woman transformed by a love as dark as coal, and a burning purpose.

If the Christmas deadline is non-negotiable, I’m running out of time. So far, I’ve been too scared to ask in case the answer is ‘yes’. Eight days left, is that even enough time? Wouldn’t the test already show I’m pregnant if… I shouldn’t be thinking like this.

“Next time,” I promise myself. “Next time, it’ll be positive.”

As I exit the bathroom, I find Nicklas sitting on the bed. He’s redressed in a clean suit, looking like he’s about to… “Are you going out?” I ask, incredulity lilting my words.

“No, I’m not going anywhere. But there’s some business I have to take care of. People will be coming over.”

I put some extra sway in my step, deliberately trying to entice him. “Does that mean I have to go asleep alone?” I pout.

The time we’ve spent together is so short, yet I find that I’ve become addicted to this man. There’s no other word for it. When we’re not together, I miss him. And when we are, I crave him in ways I never knew existed. It’s like his soul is now interwoven with mine in a tapestry that can’t be undone.

“I’m afraid so, Kitten,” he says, sounding like he isn’t any happier about it than I am. “It shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours.”

“Fine,” I sigh, crawling into bed and under the sheets. “Where will you be?” When he looks confused at my question, I clarify. “I mean, what room? I don’t like not knowing where you are.”

The grin splitting his lips is almost boyish, as though it pleases him immensely to hear. “We’ll be in the meeting room. The one next to—”

“I know where it is.”

After kissing me goodnight, promising to not be more than two hours, he leaves me.