Bought By Santa (Seasonal Obsessions #1)

Chapter 36

The Santa

I ’m standing in the middle of the penthouse, the soft glow of Christmas lights painting Carolina’s face with a golden hue. It’s a rare sight—her guard down, breathing slow and easy as snowflakes dance beyond the windowpane. Our world, filled with danger and demands, fades away. Right now, it’s just us and the silent whisper of our shared solitude.

This is exactly what I wanted to achieve when I arranged for the tree and the decorations to be done while she was sleeping. What can I say, like my namesake Saint Nick, I had my elf do all the heavy lifting.

Totally worth it.

“Merry Christmas, Carolina,” I rasp, brushing fabric and hair out of the way so I can kiss her bare shoulder.

My hellcat looks amazing as she stands in front of the Christmas tree, wearing a silky, deep red robe that clings to her curves, barely tied at the waist. The fabric flows around her like liquid, highlighting every movement, every step whispering against the floor.

Underneath, I catch glimpses of matching lace—a delicate bralette and matching shorts that tease more than they reveal. It’s sexy, effortlessly so, but there’s a comfort to it too, a casual confidence that only she can pull off.

“Nick, it’s beautiful,” she says, her voice a tender melody wrapped in the crackling fire’s warmth. “Did you do all this last night?”

I throw my head back and laugh. “No, my elves did.” Her answering laugh makes my heart skip a beat. “Time for presents,” I announce.

Her eyes sparkle with a childlike curiosity that tugs at something deep inside me. I retrieve the small box from under the tree—a tree I had adorned with crimson and gold baubles.

“You didn’t have to—”

“Open it.” My voice comes out rougher than I intend, but anticipation coils in my gut.

She takes the box, fingers trembling slightly, betraying the bravado she wears like armor. The lid comes off, and her gasp fills the room. Inside lies a delicate necklace, the pendant a miniature snowflake wrought from diamonds and dark metal. Inside is a picture of a smiling Willow and the sister that loved her more than her own life.

“Nick…” My name quivers in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. “It’s perfect.”

“Put it on,” I command softly, stepping closer to clasp it around her neck. The cool metal rests against her warm skin. Her breath hitches, and I feel the tremor run through her body as my fingers brush her nape.

“Thank you,” she whispers, eyes glistening. “It’s really perfect.”

“Only the best for my goddess.” The words slip out before I can stop them, but they’re true. I’ve given her a kingdom of shadows, and now I crown her sovereign of our dark domain.

“Nicklas Knight, you are full of surprises.” Her laugh is a melody that dances with the flickering firelight.

The warmth from the fireplace licks at my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat that flares within me as Carolina reaches for two inconspicuous boxes wrapped in red and gold. Her hands, delicate yet capable, pass them to me with a shy smile that belies the audacity of her actions this past month.

“Your turn,” she says, her voice a sultry whisper carrying the weight of secrets. Come to think of it, she’s used that tone ever since her shower yesterday morning.

I take the first gift, the size and heft not revealing much. The paper crinkles under my fingers as I peel it away, anticipation coiling in my gut. It’s not like me to be nervous—Knight men don’t do nerves—but with Carolina, everything is different.

The lid pops off, and there… “Is that lube?” I ask on a choked laugh.

She nods proudly. “Yep.”

I playfully waggle my eyebrows. “So I’m getting your ass for Christmas, is that it?”

Still beaming, she hands me the other box. “Open this one.”

It’s the same kind of box, just smaller. As I remove the lid, I’m taken aback. On a bed of crinkled paper lies—a plastic stick, its digital screen screaming one word at me: Pregnant. My heart doesn’t just skip; it ceases for a fraction of a second. A positive pregnancy test. My heir. Our child.

“Carolina…” The name escapes me, a breathless sound of wonder and disbelief.

She bites her lip, watching me with eyes wide, brimming with unshed tears. “I think… I think it’s a girl.”

A girl. A daughter. A tiny life formed from the most volatile parts of us both. Every Knight family superstition about heirs rushes through my mind, but they’re silenced by the thunderous beat of my own heart. A daughter— my daughter.

“If it’s a girl, I’d like to name her Willow,” she croaks.

I can’t think of anything more fitting than naming our girl after the sister she sacrificed everything for. Carolina’s love for her runs deep, and now she wants to give our daughter a piece of that devotion, an anchor in this stormy life we lead.

“Willow,” I repeat, tasting the name on my tongue. It fits. It’s perfect. A flood of emotion washes over me, and for a moment, I’m adrift in it, lost in the vibrant blue depths of Carolina’s gaze.

“Is that okay?” Uncertainty creeps into her tone, and it grounds me, pulls me back to shore.

“Of course it is.” I reach for her, my movements decisive, my touch firm yet reverent. “This is the best damn Christmas gift I could have ever received.”

Her laugh is watery, joy mingling with relief. Then, I pull her close, our bodies flush against each other, the reality of the gift nestled securely between us.

I’m a man who’s walked through life with iron in my soul and steel on my tongue. But today, the sight of my hellcat and that small piece of plastic shatters every ounce of armor I’ve ever worn. Her eyes snap up to mine, ocean-deep and spilling over with tears. I drop to one knee, the lush carpet cushioning the impact.

“Carolina Sterling,” I say, and everything else falls away. It’s just her and me, and the promise of a little girl named Willow. “You’ve stormed into my life like a hurricane, tearing down walls I didn’t even know I had.”

Her hand flies to her mouth, a dam trying to hold back a flood. I reach out, taking her other hand in mine, feeling the tremor that runs through her delicate fingers.

“Today, you’ve given me more than I ever thought I needed. You’ve given me a future, a family.” My throat tightens around the words. “Marry me, Carolina. Not because of obligation or power. Not because I say so…” That makes her snort. “…but because you’ve stolen my dark heart and made it yours. Because I love you, now and forevermore.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath, and I watch as a single tear escapes, tracking down her cheek like the first snowflake of winter—delicate, pure, transformative. “Are you really asking me?” she chokes out.

“I am,” I confirm. It takes everything in me to allow her the option to say no. Ah, who am I kidding, that’s never an option.

“Yes, Nicklas, I will marry you.”

The proposal may be traditional, but what comes next isn’t. We’re not a couple forged in the softness of whispers; we blaze in the darkness, igniting with each touch, each word.

I yank on her hand, pulling her down to me, and when her legs give out, I cradle her, gently laying her down on the floor. “Thank fuck for that,” I growl before fusing our lips together in a deep, hungry kiss.

While our tongues dance, my hands roam over her curves, staking my claim. She eagerly spreads her legs, making room for me as my hand dives beneath the waistband of her shorts and cups her cunt. “Always so ready for me,” I rasp when I find her already wet.

As I take my time undressing her, she pushes my briefs down, squeezing my rock hard cock. “I want you,” she moans when I’ve removed all her clothes and I slide two fingers into her tight channel. “But I—”

“What do you want, Hellcat?” I groan, thrusting into her hand.

She bites on her bottom lip. “Now that I’m pregnant, I want you to fuck my ass.”

“Oh, I think that can be arranged,” I growl, my cock twitching in her grip at the mere thought. I’ve wanted to claim her delicious ass since the night I met her. “Turn around.”

She obeys, getting on all fours, arching her back and presenting herself to me, and the sight nearly brings me to my knees. I run my hands along her spine, down to the dip of her lower back. She shivers, her breath hitching as I roughly spread her cheeks and press one finger against her asshole.

“You want me here?” I ask, my voice thick with want.

“Y-yes,” she moans, pressing back against my finger, seeking more.

With a chuckle, I reach for the lube she so generously gave me, lathering two fingers and her puckered opening in it. Then I begin to slowly work my fingers into her opening. It takes some coaxing before she relaxes enough for my first knuckles to slip through the ring.

“Fuck!” she cries, her breathing labored, and I know she isn’t enjoying it yet.

“You’re doing so good,” I praise. “Just a bit mo—”

“Just do it,” she hisses. “Shove your fingers all the way inside me.”

Despite her words, I take my time. I lean forward and bite her soft ass cheek, eliciting a deep moan from her that makes it easy to get to my second knuckles.

“Almost there,” I soothe, slapping her ass so it jiggles.

“It… it… I don’t know if it hurts or not. I can’t tell anymore,” she whines.

Using my free hand, I pinch her clit, rolling it until she’s moaning for more, even moving back toward me, taking my fingers all the way inside her ass.

I give her a few moments to get used to the intrusion, and then I begin to pump my digits in and out. Her breathing intensifies, but before long, she arches her back and moans loudly. “You like that?” I rasp. “Because I love the way my fingers look in your ass.”

Adding a third finger makes her buck and keen, and my fourth finger has her lowering to her elbows while wagging her ass.

“Oh my God!” she cries, her ass contracting around me.

Letting go of her clit, I push three fingers into her cunt, fucking both of her holes in perfect tandem.

With every thrust of my fingers, I map out her pleasure, and it feels like I’m re-learning the language of her body. With the double penetration, she quickly comes undone, and it only takes a few more pumps before she’s screaming out her climax.

“Fuck! Yes! Just like that! I… I… Fuck, Nick, I’m coming.”

“Are you ready for my cock?” I ask. She’s still shuddering from her orgasm.

“Yes. I want your cock filling my ass,” she cries.

I grab the lube and squirt a generous amount over my length. Then I grip her hips, pulling her closer. “You’re mine,” I rasp, unable to keep the tremble from my voice. “Look at me.” She complies, her gaze locking with mine over her shoulder as I press the tip of my hardness against her entrance.

With excruciating patience, I ease forward, giving her time to adjust to the fullness, the stretch, the intensity of our connection. She’s tight, heat engulfing me, and it takes everything not to lose myself in the sensation.

“Oh… this is so…” Her voice shakes, and I still, letting her acclimate.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” I soothe, brushing a kiss on her shoulder. “Breathe with me.”

We inhale together, and as she exhales, I push in further, both of us gasping at the depth. The possessive edge claws at me, wanting to mark every inch of her as mine.

“It feels so good,” Carolina confesses, her words laced with a raw honesty that clutches at my heart.

I set a slow rhythm that soon has her moaning my name like a sacred chant. The sound of it is sweeter than any Christmas carol, more intoxicating than the finest whiskey.

“Harder,” she begs, and I comply, the pace building, her body meeting each of my thrusts.

“Fuck, Carolina, your ass feels incredible,” I groan. As I begin to fuck her harder, she sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. I raise my hand, gently tugging at the skin until she lets go. “If you want your lip bitten, I’ll do it.” The words come out as a possessive growl, which I guess she likes with the way her ass tightens around me.

I continue to fuck her while leaning in so I can claim her lips, doing exactly that; biting down on her lip, and when the skin breaks, I lap the blood up before snaking my tongue around hers so she can taste her essence in my mouth.

I’m so lost in her that I can barely stand it. Every sense is filled with her, and I know it won’t take long before I erupt. I move one hand to her clit, furiously rubbing it until she clenches harder around me.

“Yes! Yes! Ye—” Her words break off into a crescendo of pleasure, her climax triggering my own.

I groan her name like a benediction, pouring my hot jizz into her tight ass. As her hole contracts around my cock, I keep coming, and keep coming. I shudder and roar her name, still fucking her with all my might.

Once I’m completely spent, I collapse onto the floor, pulling her into my arms and throwing her leg over my hip.

It’s early evening when we finally finish our Christmas meal, both of us high on the day and everything it brought with it.

“I don’t think I can squeeze down another bite,” Carolina sighs, patting her belly.

A knock echoes through the penthouse, interrupting us. “Finally,” I sigh. When I notice her worried expression, I clarify, “It’s just Arthur.”

After I fucked her the second or third time, I finally got around to explaining that Arthur was the one who set the deadline for the conception, and that whether I contacted him or not, he’d probably stop by for an update.

“Right, right. I forgot,” she mumbles, her hands shaking slightly.

I get up and stride over to Carolina, positioning myself at her back with one hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be fine,” I say reassuringly. “It’s just a formality.”

Feet scuffle along the floor at the elevator entry as Marco lets Arthur in, and then the door opens to reveal the King, his imposing frame filling the doorway. His piercing blue eyes scanning the room—assessing, always assessing.

“Arthur.” My voice is steady, masking the undercurrent of tension that prickles at the back of my neck. “Good to see you.”

“Nicklas,” he greets, stepping inside with a nod. His gaze lands on Carolina, dipping to where her hands are steepled together around her stomach. “Carolina.” He inclines his head with a respect that’s hard won in our world.

“Good evening, Arthur,” she replies, her tone matching his formality.

I offer him a glass of whiskey, which he happily accepts. “We have news,” I say when I’m back behind my kitten.

“Well?”

“Carolina’s pregnant,” I announce, my chest swelling with pride even as I watch for his reaction.

“Indeed?” Arthur’s eyebrow arches slightly. He sips the whiskey, his gaze never leaving mine. “Congratulations are in order, then. To both of you.”

“Thank you,” Carolina murmurs, clutching the fabric of her sweater.

“The timing couldn’t be more perfect,” Arthur continues, setting down his glass with deliberate care, “especially now that Knights seem to be dropping like flies.” He winks playfully at Carolina.

“Yes, what a shame,” she deadpans.

I wasn’t sure how Arthur was going to react to the news of Dad’s death, but he couldn’t seem less interested if he tried. “Well, thanks for the update, Nicklas,” Arthur says. “We’ll talk again I’m sure. But seeing as you have things under control on your side of the pond, I don’t see any reason to stay longer.”

“Great,” I confirm, watching as he drinks the last of the whiskey.

“You have my permission and approval to marry Carolina.” He throws it out so casually I’m not sure I heard him correctly.

“I passed the test,” she says, straightening her back. “Are you now saying that didn’t mean anything?”

Arthur smirks. “Not at all. When I arrived in late November, I couldn’t care less who my cousin ended up with, if any. But you’ve impressed me, which is why you get my approval. Do with it what you please.”

With those words, he spins on his heel, heading toward the door.

He pauses briefly, looking at me over his shoulder. “Don’t forget about the Hunter.”

“How could I forget,” I grunt, not too happy about the deal Arthur apparently has with the nameless killer for hire.

Arthur chuckles. “Just don’t get in his way. He has free access to New York City in February.”

Then the King leaves the same way he came in.

My hellcat looks up at me, confusion written all over her features. “Was the test for nothing or not?” she asks, annoyance creeping into her tone.

I bend down and place a kiss on her cheek. “Not at all. The test technically just gave you permission, but not his… approval.” That word sounds all wrong because, honestly, who cares? “But since he’s the King, his approval is supposed to carry some weight.”

Snorting, she gets out of the chair. “He might be our King,” she says, winding her arms around my neck. “But you’re my dark Knight. Now and forevermore.”