Bought By Santa (Seasonal Obsessions #1)

Chapter 25

The Breeder

W hat? That’s definitely not the reaction I expected.

“Your pleasure is mine to give,” he says, his tone possessive. And then he’s moving onto the bed, positioning himself between my thighs. “Do you want to be filled with more than just toys?”

“Yes!” It’s a shout, a confirmation, a surrender.

One hand grabs my hips while the other dives between my legs, quickly removing the vibrator. The head of his erection nudges at my entrance, and I’m unable not to rub myself against him. If it wasn’t for both his hands that are now keeping me steady by holding my hips in a bruising grip, I’m sure I’d fall.

Then he enters me; one powerful thrust that fills me to a point of exquisite fullness. We move together. “Oh my God!” I cry, feeling so… everything. I’m feeling everything. From the clamps that tug at my nipples with every motion, to his huge cock bottoming out inside me.

“Mine,” he growls, each stroke a claim. “Say it, Carolina. Say you’re mine.”

“Yours,” I pant, the world narrowing down to just him, just this moment. “Oh God, Nicklas, yours.”

“Yes, you fucking are.”

Thrust!

“Mine to breed.”

Thrust!

“Mine to use.”

Thrust!

“Mine to fucking love.”

Thrust!

His voice is a melody of darkness and desire, and I cling to it, letting it carry me through the waves of pleasure that crash over me. “Please,” I whimper, so close to the edge, to the precipice of release.

“Come for me, Carolina. Now,” he commands, and I shatter, my climax ripping through me with the force of a winter storm, leaving nothing untouched.

“Nicklas!” I scream his name.

My vision distorts, black circles dancing at the edge as my entire body seizes, clenching so hard tears form behind my closed lids. It feels like I’m floating, like I’m… fuck, I can’t stop coming. My orgasm keeps going as he thrusts into me over and over, guttural and feral growls falling from his lips.

I try to reach for him, needing to touch him. But of course, I can’t. The damn ropes that I loved not too long ago are now a hindrance, keeping me from what I want. “P-please free my hands,” I beg.

“Give me… fuck. Your cunt is gripping me so tightly,” he groans.

When I open my eyes again, I look into his, and they’re almost completely black. All I see in them is the depth of his feelings for me, and my own reflected back at me. It’s so beautiful I choke up.

Still with his cock inside me, Nick shuffles me to the side. Then he reaches above me, his hand disappearing under the pillow. I’m just about to ask what he’s looking for but then I see it, the blade he must have hidden there before I got up.

I try not to wince as he cuts the ropes away, but his movements are jerky and rushed. More than once, he knicks my skin. I want to ask him if he couldn’t just pull one of the ropes to free all the knots, but the look on his face is so intense I decide it doesn’t matter.

Once the ropes are gone, he removes the nipple clamps, making me cry out in pain as the blood finally rushes back. “Ouch!” I never thought that would be the part to hurt.

“Are you comfortable?” His dark voice reminds me my arms are free, and I hurriedly reach for him. My fingers trail over his face, like I’m blind and need to memorize his features with my hands.

Everything feels more potent as I skim over his eyebrows, down his cheeks, over his scar, and lastly, I touch his soft lips. “Kiss me,” I demand huskily.

Not needing to be told twice, he bends and claims my lips in a soul-deep kiss; one that makes my toes curl with every swipe of his tongue. While we kiss, he moves me to my back, and I eagerly wind my arms around his neck, clinging to him.

When he tries to pull away, I dig my nails into his neck in disapproval. I feel possessed, like if he lets go, I’ll stop breathing. I know it’s not rational by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s how I feel. And I’m not ready to stop breathing yet.

Nick starts to fuck me again, with slow and long strokes. Each time he bottoms out inside me, he hits that glorious spot that both makes my breathing falter and quicken all at the same time.

Every minute with him is filled with contradictions, but I embrace each and every one. If I could, I’d climb inside him and stay there forever.

“Carolina,” he rumbles when I finally let him break the kiss. “I love you so fucking much.”

“And I love you, Nicklas Knight,” I whisper, worried he’s going to interrupt me again. When he doesn’t, I repeat the words louder. “I love you, Nicklas. You’re my everything.”

“Forevermore,” he vows.

“Forevermore!”

I blink when he lifts the knife, letting it dance across my skin before he brings it to the spot just above his heart. “You’ll always be a part of me,” he growls.

“What are you—” I cut myself off. My eyes widen and my nostrils flare as he digs the tip into his flesh, my initials taking shape with every precise movement. It’s both terrifying and exhilarating to watch him mark himself for me. “Nick…” I start, breathless, not sure whether to plead or praise. But the sight of my name etched into his flesh steals the words right out of my mouth.

“Carolina,” he says, catching my gaze with unwavering determination. “You’re mine, forevermore. And now, anyone who sees this will know it.”

“Why would anyone see you shirtless?” I hiss, not happy by that prospect.

Even with blood dripping from his cuts, he laughs. “Good point.”

I rear up and cup his face, angling it so he has no choice but to meet my gaze. “No one is going to see that. Swear it.”

“I promise,” he rasps. “No one but you. Not if I can help it.”

As much as I want to hear him correct the last part, I appreciate that he isn’t lying to me. The truth is that there’s no way to tell if anyone will ever see it, so, yeah, his words are more than good enough.

Breaking our eye contact, I lower my mouth to his cut, my mouth sealing over the C and the K and my tongue swiping across the open wounds. His cock jerks inside me, reminding me it’s still there, as hot and hard as ever.

Carolina Knight—it might not technically be my initials yet, but they will be soon enough.

“Fuck!” he groans as he moves his hand to the back of my head, holding me to him. “Drink my blood, Hellcat.”

And dammit, I do. Well, I don’t exactly drink it, I lick it. Then I lift my head, claiming his lips so he can taste his blood as well.

“Say it again,” he commands as he begins to fuck me again.

I don’t need him to clarify; I know what he wants to hear. “I love you, Nicklas.” My voice is a whisper, but it feels like a shout in the silence that follows.

“Fuck,” he growls, sealing the declaration with a kiss that’s all-consuming, devouring any lingering doubts. Our connection deepens with the mingling taste of blood and passion—a bond forged in our dark desire for each other.

Nick pushes me back down, throwing my legs over his shoulders as he fucks me in hard, punishing pumps. Oh God, he’s so deep like this, hitting the perfect spot inside me. It doesn’t take long until I’m shaking with another orgasm.

“Yes. Nick… fuck! Yes! Yes!” I scream as he follows, his own release hot and deep within me.

We collapse in a tangle of limbs and ropes, breathing hard. In the aftermath, our eyes lock, and I see it—the trust, the connection that’s grown stronger with every shared secret, every explored kink.

The ring of his phone shatters the moment, a sharp intrusion. Nick pulls away, his dark eyes clouding over with anger at being disturbed. He snatches up the device from the floor, his body tensing as he listens to the urgent voice on the other end.

“Are you sure? He’s dead?” he asks. His face paling beneath the harsh lighting of the room. His fingers dig into the phone, knuckles white, a stark contrast to the usual confidence that radiates off him like heat from a flame.

I try to listen, but I can’t hear anything but his voice. “Nick, what’s wrong?” My voice is barely above a whisper, but it cuts through the tension, reaching for him.

“I’m on my way,” he snaps before ending the call.

He doesn’t look at me as he reaches for his clothes, quickly dressing. “What happened?” I ask, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Jack’s been hurt,” he snaps, and the words are a physical blow, knocking the air from my lungs. “There was… it turned bad. I have to go to him.”

I nod, understanding the gravity of a Knight wounded. No, it’s more than that. Jack’s his brother. “Is he…” I can’t finish the question.

“Alive, yes. But it’s serious. I need to fix this.” His voice is ice over steel, the domineering man I know reasserting himself over the worry that had cracked his facade.

“Okay.” It’s all I can manage, a simple acknowledgment of the storm about to break over us. There’s no room for hesitation, not when family, when blood, is on the line. Especially for a man like Nicklas, who’d burn the world down before he’d let harm come to those he claims as his own.

I quickly get off the bed, wrapping the sheet around my naked body. Then I run back to the bedroom, grabbing the closest clothes I find in the closet. It’s a dark gray and sleeveless pantsuit. Although I’d love a shower, there’s no time. So I settle for washing my face and squirting toothpaste into my mouth with one hand, while getting dressed with the other.

As I look for a hair tie in one of the bathroom drawers, I come across the pregnancy tests and spare plugs. For a second I consider grabbing one of the plugs to keep Nick’s seed inside me, but then I decide against it. For one, by now, most have probably already seeped out. And for two, I don’t want the day his brother got put in the hospital to be the day we conceive.

Besides, not wearing one since he fucked me on the table in his meeting room last night has felt almost freeing.

After gathering my hair on top of my head in a messy bun, I find a pair of ankle boots. I’m in the middle of zipping them up when Nick joins me. “You’re not coming,” he growls.

“The hell?” I exclaim, shaking my head. “I’m coming, Nick. I want to be there for you.”

“It’s not safe,” he insists, the dominant edge we both crave slipping into his tone despite the situation. But this time, it doesn’t stir desire; it stirs defiance.

“Neither was letting you buy me, but I did it—and I’d do it again,” I counter, my voice stronger than I feel. His touch has awakened parts of me I didn’t know existed, and now I can’t just turn off the intensity of what pulses between us.

“Damn it, Carolina,” he growls, pacing away. Each step he takes is filled with a predator’s grace, but also with a desperation I can’t bear to ignore.

“Nicklas,” I say, following him. “You carved my name into your skin. You bound me to you. Now let me prove that I’m worthy of that. I can handle anything if it means supporting you.”

He stops, the tension rolling off him in waves. I see it then—the way he struggles to balance his need to protect me with the respect he has for the woman I am becoming, the woman he is shaping me into.

“Please.” My plea is quiet but fervent.

“Fuck,” he swears again, pinching the bridge of his nose. He turns back to me, the decision clear in his eyes even before he speaks. His hands are surprisingly gentle as they cup my face, a stark contrast to the possessive, all-consuming lover from moments ago. “We’ll go together. But you stay close to me, understand? If anything happens—”

“Nothing will,” I interrupt with a conviction I partially borrow from him. “Because together, we’re unstoppable.”

As we prepare to leave, I am aware of every inch of my body, each place he’s touched still tingling with remembrance. It’s a reminder that no matter what the outside world throws at us, inside, we’ve created something untouchable.