Page 37 of Bought By Santa

He fucking did what? “What are you talking about?” I argue. My voice doesn’t falter, which is good. I don’t want him to know how much his words are affecting me.

“That got your attention, hmm, Kitten?” He smirks knowingly. “When you decided to use my toothbrush to get yourself off, I had someone watching you—”

“Oh, my God!” I cry out. I’m so goddamn stupid. I knew there was a chance Nicklas was watching, but I don’t think I ever thought anyone else might be.

“No reason to be embarrassed,” Nicklas coos. Fucking coos. “He’s dead now.”

My breath hitches as I realize that must be the pained scream I heard. Jesus, a man’s dead because of me. Because of… fuck. Why did I ever think I could go toe-to-toe with a man I saw murder another in cold blood? I need to stop antagonizing him and just get this month over with.

“Talk about overreacting,” I force myself to say. I take a deep breath, willing my body to stop shaking. At least while I’m in the same room as Nicklas. “I have no interest in anyone else. In fact, fucking somebody who isn’t you is the farthest thing on my mind.” My tone is monotone like I’m reading a script.

“So why fight the exclusivity?” he asks, his tone sharp like he doesn’t believe me.

Lord, he’s being dense. “Because the same rules aren’t laid out for you. I’m not okay with the double standard. Especially not when you’re fucking me bare,” I retort, almost screaming again.

His lips twitch into an almost smile. “So you want the same rules for me as I’ve laid out for you?”

“Yes!”

When his smile grows into a full-blown smirk I feel like I just got played, and his words prove me right. “Alright, once again, I’ll give you exactly what you ask for. Equality, Kitten. So if I don’t knock you up, you can pay me two million for the orgasms.”

Oh, fuck. He’s right, I hadn’t completely thought this through at all. I know he sees it as his words register on my face. “You manipulative fucker,” I hiss, my voice strangled. It’s true what he says, he’s giving me exactly what I’m asking for. And in the process, he’s twisting it like an evil Genie. While still somehow managing to make it so it’s no less than what I’ve demanded.

Even though I feel like crying and kicking like a petulant child, I unlock the phone in my hand. My hand shakes as I sign digitally. With each stroke of my name, I feel the walls closing in around me. It feels like a sentence, a binding that tightens around my very soul.

“All done,” I sneer, angry I got played by… well, by myself.

My signature on the page feels like defeat, a heavy weight anchoring me to this new, terrifying reality. My mind races, frantic for an escape that doesn’t exist. I’m caught in Nicklas Knight’s web, and every fiber of my being rebels against it.

Unable to help myself, I add, “Happy now?” The words are venomous, spat out as I glare at him with all the hatred I can muster. But he just watches me, dark eyes glinting with a cold satisfaction that chills me to the bone.

“Ecstatic,” Nicklas replies, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. His voice is low and smooth, like the purr of a lion that has cornered its prey. It sends shivers down my spine, but not the good kind.

I need to get out of here, away from his predatory gaze. I whirl around and stride toward the door, desperate to reclaim even a shred of control over my life. But before I can reach the sanctuary of solitude, his hand wraps around my arm, ironclad and unyielding.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The question is rhetorical; we both know I’m not going anywhere he doesn’t want me to.

“Let go of me, Nicklas,” I snarl, trying to wrench my arm free, but his grip only tightens, pulling me back until I’m flush against his solid chest. Heat radiates through the layers of our clothes, a stark contrast to the ice in his voice.

“First things first, Carolina.” His breath fans hotly against my ear, causing an involuntary shudder to travel through me. “Since I don’t plan on relying on the stork to find me, it’s time to get down to business.”

Without warning, he pushes me forward and bends me over the table, the polished wood cool beneath my palms. The forcefulness of his movements leaves me breathless, heart hammering in my chest. His body hovers over mine, a cage of muscle and power trapping me in place.

“Time to earn your money,” he growls, and the raw possessiveness in his tone terrifies and thrills me all at once.

“Is this what gets you off? Power?” I spit the words out, trying to keep the tremor from my voice. Anger swirls within me, a tempest that threatens to consume us both.

“Power,” he confirms, his voice a rough whisper that reverberates through the room. “And you, my little hellcat.” As if to punctuate his words, he grinds against me, letting me feel his hard length. The clothes between us don’t do a damn thing, and the movement makes my clit tingle and my nipples pucker.

The acknowledgment sends a jolt through me, unwanted arousal blooming deep in my belly. I hate that he affects me, hate that my body betrays me in his presence. But I refuse to let him see it, to give him the satisfaction of knowing he can elicit such a response from me.

“Go to hell,” I manage through gritted teeth, though my resolve falters with each thrust of his hips against my ass.

His laughter is dark, rich, and utterly maddening. “Oh, my sweet kitten, we’re already there. And you’re mine to burn with.”

My heart pounds in my chest as he roughly tears through the fabric of my pants, the sound of ripping material echoing through the room. I thrash against him, my mind screaming rebellion, but my body betrays me with its trembling.

“Stop!” I snarl, even as his fingers trail with maddening precision over my skin, igniting a fire that threatens to consume me from the inside out. His touch is skilled, too knowing, finding that ache within me and coaxing it to a fever pitch.

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