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Carter: A Mafia Billionaire Romance by Shanna Handel – Extended Preview

I want to kiss him, but I sense he’s picking the time. So I don’t. I step into the foyer. I’m overwhelmed by the familiar fragrance. There’s the black and white photos of us. The wind whipping our hair around our faces, the beaches of Greece behind us. A selfie of the two of us on the Ferris wheel, a dot of melted chocolate on my cheek. The two of us picnicking with John and Mary, my quilt spread out on the ground beneath us.

I’m home.

To hell with waiting for him to kiss me. I turn around. I throw my arms around Carter. I jump, wrapping my legs around his waist. Clinging to him tightly. His hands go beneath my legs, grasping my bottom. I give him one long look then my mouth meets his.

It’s our first kiss since we broke up.

It’s as electrified as our first ever kiss was. As my mouth caresses his, I remember that night, my back pressed up against the sign of the pub we’d been drinking at. Carter kissing me, slipping his hands beneath my short skirt. As he does now.

The delicious tingles of passion rush down my spine. Dance through my limbs. My head feels floaty. My skin sensitive to his every touch.

He ends the kiss too soon. He pulls away. I’m left wanting, my tender lips parted.

His gaze locks on mine. “We have some things to discuss. I think it’s time we had a little chat.” His hand squeezes my ass beneath my skirt.

I’m still dizzy from the kiss. My stomach clenches. I remember the brown leather strap. I want to be the submissive girl of his dreams. But sweat is suddenly forming beneath my arms. My tummy is queasy. “I…I, ah—” I look at him.

Now he’s supporting me with only one strong arm beneath my bottom. His other hand strokes my hair back from my forehead. “Come, on, baby girl.” He kisses my forehead. His voice, his soft kiss are soothing.

I’m still unsure.

Before I can protest, he’s carrying me up the stairs. He’s shifted me to his hip and I laugh, despite my nerves. I look like a little girl being carried. It reminds me of just how ridiculously strong he is. My arms lock around his neck. I can feel the tug and pull of the round muscles in his shoulders as they work.

We reach the top stair of the third floor. He isn’t even out of breath.

He carries me over the open threshold of the master.

Our room.

I gulp. All the nerves are back, and I’m not sure I can go through with this.

Gently, he puts me down. My feet press into the floor. I shift my weight. “Carter—”

His hands are at the collar of his shirt. His eyes remain on me as he unbuttons it slowly. He slides the fabric over his shoulders, it falls to the floor. The smooth skin of his bare chest is exposed, muscles rippling.

He’s huge.

I look from his bulging biceps to the strap on the dresser. It’s there, tormenting me. My stomach ties in complicated knots. The strap lies next to something new. Something that wasn’t there before.

A wooden paddle.

Sweat forms at my brow. My knees feel weak. As if they will no longer hold my weight.

His arms are crossed, accentuating his muscles. His jeans hang from his trim waist, just low enough I can see the tops of his hipbones. The sight of them has my pussy dampening my panties despite my nerves.

“Shall we get down to business?” he asks.

“Carter, I—” I begin to back away from him, shaking my head. My hands go before me, forming two stop signals.

He gazes over me, sizing me up. He seems to be laughing at an inside joke. I’m quivering inside, hoping he’s going to call the whole thing off. Instead, he gives himself a decisive nod. He says, “I thought so.”

“Thought what?” I ask, still inching away.

“I knew I’d have to do this—”

In the blur of one expert movement he’s suddenly seated on the bed.

And I’m pinned over his lap.

My shirt has ridden up and the bare skin of his stomach is hot against my exposed side. His arm locks around my waist as he pulls me harder against him. Further into him. Our skin pressing together. Heat and angst rush through me as I squirm against him. I’m pushing my chest up from the bed. Kicking my legs in protest. Crying out no, and trying to get away.

He’s a human vise.

He parts his thighs and my kicking legs lose their support. The back half of my body is sliding off him, toward the floor. His position shifts beneath me. Rapidly, I’m bent over his muscular left thigh. His right leg has come behind me and locked in both of my legs. I’m no longer able to kick or move from the waist down.

I’m trapped.

My breath comes quicker—I’m panicking. Next mode of defense if I can’t kick—my right arm. I’m shouting that I’m not ready for this. I’m waving it behind me as best I can to prevent the spanking I know I have coming.

Unexpectedly, and with what feels like only his thumb and index finger, he has my weapon pinned to my back. My left arm is useless in my defense and I put in under my head, burying my face into it.

I’ve given up the fight.

Because I know what’s next. Him spanking my bottom like a naughty little girl. My face is already flushed from shame.

All through my fight, he remained silent. Now, with my body under his complete control, he says, “You done with your temper tantrum, baby girl? I know you’re strong, but know this… I’m stronger. A hell of a lot stronger.” My face burns. All those hours of pump, planks, and kickboxing, and he’s right…I’m like a kitten trapped in the lap of a lion.

His fingers tighten around my wrist. “Feisty. I like it. Let’s see how feisty you are after you’ve been thoroughly punished. First, I will spank you—”

The first spank lands. Hard. I suck a breath in between my teeth, taking in the sting. We’ve barely begun and already I feel my pussy getting wet. I try to squirm. I want to get away. To get closer. To alleviate the pressure, the tension he is putting into my body. Another spank lands. He continues, saying, “Then I will paddle you.”

My pussy stops misbehaving, my hips stop wiggling. I lie on the bed, frozen in fear. My stomach turns—being paddled? The new implement on the dresser—it looked so much more wicked than the strap. I squeak, “You never said anything about the paddle!”

“You not only have a leather strap, now, but also a personalized wooden paddle. Which I think you need a taste of, tonight.” His hand brushes over my skin. He says, “Then you will give me the corner time you owe me.”

Standing in the window for all to see. The thought makes me cringe. Makes my core throb. His hand stroking my ass feels delightful but all I can think about is the humiliation he’s outlined. I say, “Carter, I don’t think we need to do all that—”

He laughs. His hand comes down on my right cheek, my left cheek. I wince as each spank falls. My bottom is already starting to hurt. I beg, “Can we maybe ease into the lifestyle? You know… take it slow. Shouldn’t we take it slow?”

He spanks me. Harder than before. Punishing me for asking such a question. He speaks with total domination. “We took it slow. For the whole year we were engaged. Time to fast track this baby.” He’s pulling at my skirt. My face burns as I feel my ass exposed in my thong. I’ve got to start wearing more protective underwear. I feel him tugging at the fabric of my skirt at my waist.

I try to peer over my shoulder to see what he’s doing but his arm and shoulder are blocking my view. “What are you doing back there?” I ask.

He says, “I’m tucking your skirt into your waistband.”

“So it doesn’t get in your way?” I mumble miserably, dropping my head back down onto my arm.

He says, “No. So the Village can see your punished bottom from the front window.” He gives my bare ass a hearty slap.

My breath stops. The blush in my face drains. My skin feels all prickly, ice forms in my stomach.

We’ve all seen Tess Bachman, Brett’s wife, standing in the window with her red ass on display. But I thought it was because she got off on it. A sex thing. The idea is making me nauseous, but underneath that roil is my overactive pussy, traitorously melting and confusing the hell out of me.

There is no way Carter will make me stand, exposed and chastised in front of the entire Village. My punished ass on display for their visual enjoyment. Right? But I can already hear their whispered murmurs. It’s about damn time. Good to see Carter did a thorough job taming his brat.

I manage to squeak out, “You… you aren’t actually… serious, are you?”

“I’m afraid so, baby girl. It’s what you have coming.”

“When you said corner time, I thought you meant with all my clothes on.” My bottom lip is trembling. My knees feel weak. I want him to say he’s joking. To pull me up into his lap and hug me and tell me I’m forgiven. It’s all over.

Then take me out to lunch.

He’s not going to.

He’s finished his business with my skirt. Now, he’s at my waist, pulling on my thong.

“We can leave that. Can’t we?” I beg. It’s not much material but it’s something.

“No, we cannot.” He pulls it over my thighs, down my legs. The panties puddle around my feet.

His palm slides over my bottom. Goosebumps raise on my flesh. Unexpectedly, his fingers are between my legs.

Thank the gods! This is out of the blue. This is heaven!

I relax, lying on the bed and closing my eyes. My mouth hangs open as I sigh. I part my thighs, giving him easier access. His fingers are exploring me and I’m melting. The tension begins to ease, giving way to warm waves of pleasure. His finger enters me and I squeal.

“Somebody’s little cunny’s all wet.”

My God, the way he talks. I’m all cream and bonelessness and turning to a puddle of jelly over his hard lap. My mind screams, fuck me now!

His finger slides further inside me. My pussy clenches around it. He pumps his digit once. The pleasure is turning to a demanding desire. I groan, grinding against him, looking for relief.

I get none.

His finger withdraws and instead, I get a sharp slap on my ass that makes me whine.

Then I freeze.

His fingers are back between my legs. But they are headed somewhere they should not be. His finger is pressing against my asshole.

No. Fucking. Way.

My head flies over my shoulder. “No way! Uh-uh. You know I’m not a backdoor girl, Carter. You get out of there… now!”

His finger plunges into my ass.

Tears fill my eyes. I’m gasping for breath.

The shock of having him enter an unmentionable, off-limits area of my body has my face burning, my mind spiraling.

I’m trying to breathe, to come back down to Earth, but his finger is huge in there. I’m stretching and burning.

And my pussy is absolutely throbbing.

I’m lucid again and fury builds within me.

I’m going to kill him.

If I can get up off his lap and get his finger out of my ass first. Which makes me suddenly realize what he’s wanted me to realize this entire time.

He’s in complete control of me. And will be from now on.

I’ll settle down. Play nice. First things first. Get his finger out of me.

He moves within me and a whimper escapes my lips. Surprisingly, the stretching and burning is turning to this warm pulsing pleasure. I feel possessed by him, owned by him. The baffling sensation is making me impossibly wet.

But it’s so wrong.

I have to put a stop to this chaos he’s evoked in me. I say, “Carter. I see what’s going on here. And I understand.”

“Tell me, Sasha. What’s going on here?” His finger pumps in and out of my ass. I want to shriek. I want to hump something, anything. I’m so filled with shame at his intrusion and my pleasure I want to shut my eyes so tight I disappear. I hold my breath, count to five.

Then I say, “You want me to know you are in control. You want my submission. And you have it.” His finger stops moving—I’ve nailed it. Relief begins to well in my chest.

His finger remains very still inside of me as he speaks. “Such pretty words, Sasha. That’s a beautiful sentiment, thank you.”

I’ve done it. I’ve unlocked his code and now he’ll take his finger out.

Instead, his other finger travels across the cleft of my pussy collecting juices. Brutally pressing against my aching clit, then vanishes. My mind goes blank. The second finger is nearing the first. It’s making its way to my taut entrance. I gasp in pain as he presses it past my unwilling ring of muscles, to meet the other.

Two big fingers pump within me. I feel as though my delicate flesh will tear. Tears prick in my eyes.

But my discomfort is nothing compared to that evoked when he speaks again. “What I’m actually doing is getting your little bottom hole ready for my cock.”

My mind screams, no! A queer, white-hot heat flushes through me. He’s mentioned the unthinkable. A place I swore I would never go.

He knows I’m not into that. He knows he’s not allowed in there.

At least, he wasn’t. Not when I was running the show.

The stretching muscles in my bottom tell me the rules are changing.

Why is my pussy getting so out of control? Clenching and gushing like she’s agreeing with him. Yes please, Big Carter! Take me up the ass with your massive cock!


I don’t have more time to dwell on my confusion because now, the fingers are slowly sliding out from me. My face burns blazing hot at the thought of where they’ve been. They’re gone and my asshole relaxes with relief. Though now, it feels curiously empty. My pussy twinges.

My mind is fucked.

I don’t have time to process my body’s reaction to what’s just happened to me because, suddenly, there’s a smooth, heavy weight resting over the center of the globes of my ass.

The paddle.

I gulp. My ass cheeks clench beneath it. Anticipating my desire to flee returning, his leg tightens around mine.

He says, “Me taking your ass, we’ll save for another day. Today, let’s focus on these gorgeous curves.” A chill runs down my spine as I try to gather my nerves. He says, “Ready?”

How can anyone be ready for being paddled for the first time? I take a deep breath, my expanded ribcage pressing against his thighs. I bite my lip. He’s freed my arm. My hand goes to my hair, tugging it. He taps the wood against my ass. He’s waiting for a response. I give him a tentative nod.

He demands, “Words, Sasha.”

“Yes, sir,” I say.

“Better. Good girl.”

I hold my breath. I feel him raise the paddle above my ass. I clench. It comes down with a soft thwack. It’s a dull pain, pleasant almost. He’s going easy on me. I can breathe again.

His hand gently brushes over my ass. “You okay, baby?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He brings the paddle down again, a little harder. It stings. The burn after the sting is… nice. Warm. Then he starts talking and I realize, it’s not pain he want to inflict.

It’s shame.

He wants me to feel naughty. Punished. “You were a bad, bad girl. Being sassy. Using your little cunny to get your way. But those days are over. Aren’t they? I’m in charge now. And you’re going to find yourself over my lap. A lot.” The paddle comes down again, harder. It stings. “Let’s get your bottom nice and pink so all the Village can see it. And they’ll know Sasha isn’t in charge at One Nineteen anymore.”

The paddle comes down with a crack, right across the center of my ass.

“Yeow!” I cry out. I squirm. “Yes, sir.”

“Who’s in charge, baby girl?” The paddle comes down. Same spot. Now he wants me to feel the pain. I’m wincing.

My eyes shut tightly, trying to block out the spreading ache. “You are, sir.”

“Good girl.” Then the paddle’s coming down and I’m gasping. He waits before he lifts it again—letting the full brunt of the swat sink in. I want to rub my ass. My toes curl into the carpet. It comes down again and I cry out, I’m sorry, so sorry. It comes crashing down once more and just when I feel I can take no more, I feel him put the paddle down beside him on the bed. His hand is brushing over my stinging ass.

Relief washes over me. A smile almost crosses over my flushed face. It quickly disappears as he says, “Let’s get you in your window.”

My stomach is in knots.

I knew he wasn’t bluffing all along, but now that it’s really happening, my knees are so weak, I can barely get to my feet. “Are—are we sure about this,” I stammer.

He takes my hand. I’m standing here, bare-legged, my skirt hanging down in the front, covering me, but tucked up in the back, exposing my swollen ass. I let him guide me to the front of our bedroom. Where the big picture windows face the street.

We pause in front of the spotless glass. I see Fifth Street. I catch a glimpse of our reflection. My hair is tousled, my eyes wide, my face blushing. Behind me, his muscles are rippling. His jaw is set. His hands are heavy on my shoulders and he’s turning me.

I’m standing, my ass to the window. I have no idea who can see me. Or what they will say, who they will tell. I can only imagine there will be quite a few Bachmans chatting over dinner tonight. Did you see Sasha today? Naughty girl. Carter finally took her in hand and spanked that bottom. Did you see how red it was? She won’t be sitting down comfortably any time soon.

My face burns as hot as my paddled ass.

Carter is watching the whole thing. He stands before me, enjoying the look on my face. His arms cross over his chest as he admires me.

I shift my weight to my other foot. I clasp my hands in front of me. I give him a pout. It has no effect.

“Hands behind your head,” he says with a tilt of his chin.

His crossed arms push his biceps up, showing them off. Shirtless with jeans—my favorite look for my CrossFit man. The way he’s so sure of himself, so in control. And punishing me so sternly, and yet… so softly. My core is throbbing for him.

I have to have him. Now.

I’m risking my ass, but let me try one of my old tricks.

Judging by the size of the bulge I can see in his jeans, he might not be opposed.

I lock my eyes with his. Slowly I raise my arms, stretching them above my head, letting my shirt rise above my midriff, the thin material straining across my breasts. I tilt my head to the side, jutting out my chin. I part my lips, just a touch… run the tip of my tongue over my bottom lip.


Two seconds later, he’s grabbing my waist. I’m out of the window and being carried to the bed. His face is etched with a carnal desire that makes an almost fearful thrill run through me. He’s a beast.

He throws me onto the bed, flat on my back. Then he grabs my hips and flips me over, dragging me back toward the edge. I’m bent over the bed. Ass perched and exposed. Breasts, arms, face, all pressed into the covers. I arch my back and stick my ass up in the air.

I’m so ready for this.

I spread my legs. Parting my wet cunny. Giving him a show.

I hear him groan. Hear his jeans hit the floor. His fingertips are digging into my hips again. He pulls me toward him. Our hot flesh meets.

His hard cock brushes against the inside of my thigh as it makes its way to the entrance of my pussy. The head of his cock is against me. Pressing. Stretching. Burning. He thrusts inside of me. The full length, all at once. It fills me and I feel pain, but it’s a delicious pain that strikes me at my core.

My fingers clutch at the covers and I moan with delight. He pulls out and I whimper for more. His fingers bruise my flesh and he thrusts again.

It feels fucking amazing.

I’m going to come too soon; I’m so worked up from his control over me, his words, his paddle… his finger. Him putting me in the window for all the Village to see. I rise on tiptoe, push my upper body further into the mattress, and press my ass back toward him, taking in every inch of him.

His grip on my hips is too tight. He’s in complete control. He pushes me forward, away from him. Then he brings me back, slamming me into his cock.

I scream his name. My pussy is throbbing and clenching. I’m pressing my face into the covers.

I’m going to come. Bright lights flash behind my tightly closed lids. Heat washes over me. I start to sweat, pant. He fucks me again, even harder. The tension builds. The walls of my pussy contract. I’m impossibly tight and he’s too big. It’s too much. I cry out as within me I feel an explosive burst. I’m trembling. I’m whimpering and weak.

He doesn’t stop.

My nipples are sore in the fabric of my bra, so tight from the orgasm. My pussy feels sore. My ass still throbbing. My bottom hole clenching at the memory of his earlier invasion. Sensation overwhelms me. I want to claw him off me, to make all the tension stop. I lay, submissive, crying out into the blankets.

And he’s just finding his rhythm. Back and forth. In and out. Harder than ever. It’s a punishing fuck, but a second wave begins to build in my core. Stronger than the first—stronger than anything I’ve felt. I’m whimpering, whining his name into my blanket.

He’s merciless.

I don’t think I can take it. I stretch up on tiptoe, I try to crawl away from him. He grabs my hips tighter. I’ll find bruises in the shapes of his fingertips tomorrow.

I want to cry. But there’s that wave again. Just building, building, building within me. I can’t breathe, can’t think. All I feel is his cock banging against my G-spot, pummeling it into ecstasy. My core tightens until I think I’ll implode.

My mind is panicked, electrified. He’s completely dominating me, going outside my comfort zone, and I’ve never felt an orgasm building like it is now.

Everything within me is wound as tightly as it will go. I feel the building climax through my breasts, my core, down in the bottom of my knotted stomach. He gives one final thrust. I begin to come in a burst of hot, white light. My eyes shoot open, my mouth hangs down, a soundless scream leaves me as I shudder repeatedly. I feel his cock pulsing, releasing his hot seed inside of me. It spills out, running down the inside of my thighs as I release the last remaining ounce of tension in my muscles. I lie trembling on the bed.

He falls beside me, giving my ass a slap.

I don’t even flinch. I’m spent.

I’ve never been this done in before.

His lips find mine. He kisses me and I kiss him back. I’m hungering for his love.

Tonight, he’s tapped into something deep within me. I’ve given myself to him fully for what feels like the first time. Now I feel as though I understand the beauty of submission.

I curl up against his chest and fall asleep to the sound of his soft murmurs; telling me how much he loves me, how beautiful I am. Calling me his baby, his baby girl.

I’m finally, truly home.

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