Bought By Santa (Seasonal Obsessions #1)

Chapter 23

The Santa

“ C an we stay here?” she asks, tilting her head up to look at me.

I blink, not sure if I heard her right. “You… you want to stay in here?” I ask, dumbfounded.

Blood stains the floor, a mosaic of violence that’s become as familiar to me as the tailored suits on my back. The room reeks of iron—the aftermath of asserting dominance within the Knight empire. I watch Carolina survey the scene, her gaze unwavering. She doesn’t shy away from the gore; instead, she moves closer to me.

“I… that…” Pausing, she swallows thickly. “… are you hurt?” Her voice is steady, cutting through the silence.

I look down at my hands, smeared with blood—not mine. “I’m fine,” I assure her, my tone leaving no space for further inquiry. But in this moment, something shifts inside me. Her concern, so raw and genuine, cracks the armor I’ve worn since I was thirteen.

“Sit with me,” I command more softly than I intend, gesturing to the chairs that aren’t splattered with reminders of today’s necessity.

As we sit, I begin to unravel the threads of our existence here. “The men who just left… they’re the pillars of our organization here in New York. Each one sworn to me, bound by blood or loyalty.” My eyes flicker to hers, ensuring she understands the gravity.

“Keep talking,” Carolina says, fingering the bow on her midnight blue robe without breaking eye contact.

“I—” My throat is dry, and all I want to do is to rip her clothes off. She looks entirely too sexy, and I both loathe and love that everyone saw her looking so sinful.

Carolina stands, pulling at the bow, shrugging the robe off to reveal the black lace underneath it—her nightgown, stopping just above her mid-thigh. The lace hugs her body, showcasing every curve with seductive precision.

Her long, blonde hair is ruffled, probably from sleep. She isn’t wearing any traces of makeup, which, to me, that just makes her even more flawless as she stands in front of me. Her tongue darts out, and my cock hardens as I watch her lick her lips.

“Hellcat,” I rasp, but she shakes her head.

“I said, keep talking, Nick.”

“What do you want to know?”

Tilting her head to the side, she taps her long, slender index finger against her cheek. “Who were those men? I mean, I’ve seen your dad…” She shudders as she mentions him. “… Jack, and Marco before. But the others?”

I explain the other three to her. “Dominic, the one with the eyepatch, is the leader of the East Side operations. He mostly deals in weapons and drugs. Lee, the one with the pink tie, is… well, he built his business by whoring himself out. He gathered secrets, and once he had enough to force his way to the top, that’s exactly what he did.”

“Wow.”

“Sergei is complicated,” I say, continuing my explanation. “We should be natural born enemies, but he’s come to earn my respect. I know he’s loyal.”

She nods slowly, and there’s a shrewdness in her eyes, as though she’s mentally creating files for each man, cataloging the info I’m giving her. “And you trust each of these men?”

“I do,” I confirm.

“Should I?”

I can honestly say I never considered her asking that. “Do you want to?” I ask, unsure what I can say.

She hums softly. “I don’t know. But if you trust them, it seems I should as well.”

Although she makes an excellent point, I can’t bring myself to say yes. When she burst in here, they were all respectful, sure. And yes, I trust them with my life, but I’m not sure I’ll ever fully trust anyone else with hers.

I can’t help but admire her boldness. In a room that has witnessed brutality, she stands completely undaunted, acting like we’re discussing the season or where to go for dinner.

“Okay then,” she says, nodding sharply. “For you, Nick, I’ll try.”

Before I can argue that I won’t ask that of her, she pulls her nightgown over her head, showing me her gloriously naked body.

When I reach for my belt, she tuts as she moves closer. Once we’re so close I can feel the swell of her tits against my chest, she pulls my shirt free from my pants. “I want to undress you tonight.”

I watch her, the way she moves with a purpose, stripping away the layers of my power suit. My blood-stained hands rest at my sides; I’m transfixed by the sheer force that is Carolina Sterling. Her fingers work deftly on the buttons of my shirt, revealing inked skin beneath.

As soon as I’m naked, she slaps her hand against the table. “Lie down,” she commands, and there’s an authority in her tone, a fire in her eyes that matches the heat coursing through me. I do as I’m told, lying back on the cold, hard table where not too long ago decisions about life and death were made.

She climbs atop me, bare and unyielding. She rests on her knees first, smirking as she moves one hand between her legs to remove the plug. As soon as she has it between her fingers, she rubs it against my lips. I eagerly snake my tongue around it, loving the way she tastes.

“Mhmm,” I groan,

Then she wraps her fingers around the base of my erect cock, angling it so she can lower herself onto it. “Tell me,” she pants as she slowly takes me into her body, “about your empire.”

“Our empire,” I correct her. “It’s all ours, Hellcat.”

“Ours,” she moans, throwing her head back as she takes more of me inside her. “What’s my role in all of this?”

I groan, feeling her warm center press down onto me. “You’re becoming the heart of it all.”

“Your heart?” she asks, her body beginning to move in a rhythm that has my words catching in my throat.

“God, yes,” I confess. The sensation of her riding me blends with the gravity of our conversation. “You’ve become my weakness, and yet, you’re also my greatest strength.”

I’m caught between awe and arousal as Carolina moves above me, her body a living flame that sears my skin. Each time I reach for her, she slaps my hands away, a silent command that stokes the fire within me. It’s not just about pleasure; it’s about power—the power she’s claiming over both our bodies.

“No,” she orders with each slap, her voice a whip that keeps me in line. “You’ve had the power for too long. Now it’s my turn.”

And I obey, because to see Carolina like this—unleashed, unfettered—is worth any restraint. I’m raw under her touch, under the demand in her eyes. She is the hurricane, and I am willingly caught in her storm.

Her movements intensify, and she leans forward, lips grazing my ear. “And what of your trust, Nicklas? Do you trust me?”

“Implicitly,” I choke out, every bounce tightening the bond between us, forging it in passion and whispered truths.

With a fluid motion, she reaches for my knife on the table, its blade glinting ominously in the dim light. She positions it right against my neck, the cool metal a stark contrast to the warmth of her skin. It’s a test, a challenge.

“Even with this?” she questions, pressing ever so slightly, her inner muscles clenching around me.

“Especially with that,” I reply, my voice steady despite the danger. The knife doesn’t waver; neither does her gaze. It’s a dance with death, a testament to the trust that’s grown between us.

“Good,” she murmurs. “Because I need to know that when I bear your children, when I carry on the Knight legacy, it’s with a man who trusts me as much as I risk for him.”

“There’s no one else I’d want to be the mother of my heirs. No one else I’d share this darkness with—” She silences me with a kiss, deep and claiming.

“Nick,” she gasps, the knife still poised as a reminder of the balance between life and death we constantly tread. “I will give you everything.”

“And I’ll cherish it all,” I swear, feeling the pressure build within me. Every stroke, every touch is a step closer to creating something eternal.

She removes the knife from my throat, throwing it over her shoulder. Our bodies move together, she rides me with a fervor that speaks of more than just lust—it’s a merging of souls, an understanding that stretches beyond the physical.

The sight of her, head thrown back in abandon, bathed in the dim light filtering through the blinds, imprints itself into my mind. I’ll remember this: the fierce woman who rides me, determined and yet tender, like she’s carving out her place in my world—one thrust at a time.

“You can touch me now,” she moans, holding up her tits like a delectable offering to me. Wasting no time, I reach for them, pinching and rolling her beaded nipples between my fingers. Her moans intensify, as does every movement of her hips. “I’m so close!”

She’s not the only one. My nuts tighten just as warmth spreads at my lower back. “Carolina,” I groan, unable to hold back as she climaxes, her cunt squeezing my cock hard, like it’s trying to pull the jizz from my balls.

We’re both panting, breathing so heavily it’s all that can be heard as she collapses onto me. Her cheek presses to my chest. As I look down, I smile when I see the self-satisfied smirk curling her lips upward.

That wasn’t just sex, that was a queen claiming her king—her Knight.

Her fingers trace patterns on my forearm, grounding me in the present. The touch is delicate but firm, just like her.

We lie there until our breathing returns to normal, our hearts no longer galloping. Then she pushes herself up, her long blonde locks falling around her face like a curtain. “That was really something,” she says with a wide smile.

Reaching up, I grab her hair, twisting it around my hand. I pull so she’s forced to bend her neck. “I hope you enjoyed the control, Hellcat, because you’re the only one I’ve ever given it to.”

There’s a softness in her eyes that tells me she knows just how much she means to me. It’s one thing to say I’ll burn the world down for her, another to let her rule it in my place.

“What comes next?”

Her question hangs in the air, a specter that’s haunted me since I took over the family business. The Knight legacy isn’t just about power; it’s about survival, continuation. A chill runs down my spine as I look into her eyes, seeing the same determination that drew me to her in the first place.

“Before anything else, there’s something you need to know.” My voice is steady, but inside, I’m a cacophony of nerves. “You’ll have to complete a test.”

“Test?” Her brow furrows, a mixture of confusion and defiance sparking in her gaze. “What kind of test?”

“A test of loyalty, strength, and resolve,” I say, each word measured, heavy with unspoken implications. “That will determine if you’re ready to stand by my side as my wife.”

“Stand by your side, or stand behind you?” There’s a challenge in her tone, one I both respect and desire.

“Beside me,” I affirm, locking my jaw to keep my emotions in check. “Always beside me.”

Her hand pauses on my skin, and I can feel her processing this new reality. She doesn’t move away, doesn’t cower. Instead, she leans closer, closing the distance between us, her breath warm against my ear.

“Then I’ll pass it with flying colors,” she vows, her voice laced with a fiery conviction that sets my blood aflame. “For us. For our future.”