Page 25 of Bought By Santa

Mimicking my words, she retorts, “Yes, that’s so.”

I let out a cruel laugh while I tangle my fingers in her long, blonde hair. Then I force her down on her knees, ignoring herwhimpers and hisses of pain. “I was going to make you come so hard,” I growl.

She rolls her eyes. “That’s what they all say,” she smarts.

As much as her bravado and spirit turn me on, it also pisses me right off. I’m tempted to make her come just to prove how easily I can do it. The only reason I don’t is that after throwing that shit in my face, she has to earn the right.

“Stay on your knees,” I rasp while stroking my hard cock. “Since there’s no point in fucking you yet, you can swallow my cum. Open your mouth and stick your tongue out.”

The Breeder

Anger and humiliation flash in my eyes as I do as he says. He tightens his grip on his cock and starts stroking himself faster. I close my eyes, refusing to look at him.

“Look at me, Carolina,” he commands in a deep, gravelly tone. When I shake my head, he pulls at my hair until I can’t take the pain anymore, and I finally open my eyes. “If I tell you to do something, you fucking do it.”

Without warning, he shoves his cock into my mouth, and I try my best not to gag at the sudden intrusion. I move my hands to his thighs to steady myself, but he uses his free hand to slap them away.

He pumps into my mouth with wild abandon, and I can tell he’s close to coming. I want to weep with joy as the taste of his pre-cum spreads in my mouth. It’s a hell of a lot better than the disgusting taste of my period.

Ugh, gross!

“Make me come,” he growls, thrusting deeper into my throat.

My eyes water and I feel like retching, but I do as he says. He grunts and groans above me, his movements becoming more erratic by the second. I try not to think about what’s happening and focus on just making him come quickly.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally releases into my mouth with a loud moan.

He pulls out and looks at me like I’m a bug under his shoe. Then he pushes me away from him. “Clean yourself up, you’re getting blood everywhere,” he sneers before striding out of the bathroom without another word.

I collapse onto the floor, tears streaming down my cheeks as I try to catch my breath. How did things get so out of control? How did I end up in this situation? I know the answer—desperation. Desperation for money.

The money isn’t even to live an extravagant life, it’s so Willow and I can both survive. And now here I am, selling my body to a man who doesn’t see me as anything other than a vessel for his child.

But despite everything that’s happened today, there’s still a part of me that refuses to give in completely. He might be renting my womb, but no matter what he’s saying, he doesn’t own my pleasure or my actions.

I might have agreed to lie on my back and spread my legs for him whenever he wants me to, but that’s it. He doesn’t get to make me come or dictate how I act.

Maybe I should have insisted on a legal contract between us. Then again, can you even get contracts for this shit? Wecould probably find one for surrogates and amend it to fit our situation.

Chapter 10

The Breeder

After the bathroom fiasco, I barely see Nicklas for the next week. He only comes into the bedroom when it’s time for bed, which is always absurdly late, and then he’s gone before I wake up. We don’t talk or touch, or anything. We just sleep in the same bed as the strangers we are.

Wait, that’s not true. He did tell me that because of my lies, he wouldn’t let me speak to Willow, or even let me leave the confines of the bed and bathroom. Since he refused to answerany of my questions, I can only imagine that by lies he meant my fake moans.

The truth is that I did it because I thought it was what he wanted. Every guy I’ve ever been with has only cared about their own pleasure while making it clear they expected me to be deep in the throes of passion while they fumbled to find my clit.

Nicklas was nothing like that, though. His fingers were steady, and he knew exactly what he was doing. My moans were authentic. I wasn’t faking them—exaggerating, sure. But I didn’t outright fake anything.

Now, the fucker is punishing me for doing what I thought he wanted, what has always been expected of me. I want to scream and cry from the unfairness of it all. And maybe I would if it wasn’t because I’m doing my best not to let him see how much it’s getting to me that I can’t speak to Willow.

I’m pulled from my thoughts as the subtle click of the lock sounds too loud in the otherwise quiet room. I’m on my feet before I even register moving, the soft whisper of silk against my thighs as I pad across the room toward the sound. My heart races, not with fear, but with an aching hope that it’s him.

Maybe I’ll even apologize just to end this solitude hell.

But it’s just the silent housekeeper with her tray of food and stoic face, pushing through the doorway. The disappointment is a physical pang, and I swallow it down, trying to engage with the only other human I’ve seen in days.

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