Carter: A Mafia Billionaire Romance

by Shanna Handel

  I feel hot, sweaty. Lightheaded. The tension at the base of my cock is almost unbearable. The feeling moves upward. My cock is throbbing, ready to burst. I grab her ass harder, squeeze her flesh and tell her, “Give it to me, baby girl.” My mouth goes to her neck. Sucking and biting. One hand leaves her ass. Finds her hair. I give it one... more... tug.

  “Carter! Oh, holy mother of mercy. Carter!”

  Her pussy is impossibly tight. My breath catches in my throat.

  For one long moment—physically, mentally, and emotionally—pleasure is all that there is.

  Finally letting go of all the tension, fear. Releasing myself into her.

  This is what she does to me.

  She collapses against me, her face resting on my shoulder. Her hair still damp.

  I kiss her cheek.

  I tell her she’s my everything.

  This time tomorrow, she will be my wife.

  * * *

  Sasha

  What was I thinking? That leaving Carter was the right thing? That he wouldn’t come after me?

  We were meant to be together.

  Forever.

  I’m wearing the dress that proves it.

  I stand, gazing at my reflection in the mirror. My beautiful mother is behind me, her hand sits on my shoulder. There are happy tears in her eyes.

  The white silk is almost creamy to the touch. I brush my hands down, smoothing the wrinkleless gown.

  It’s perfect.

  And he bought it for me.

  It fits me like a glove. I look like a Greek goddess.

  I almost want to cry when I think of the tennis dress I’d bought to be married in. Thank goodness he saved me from that.

  We will be wed on the beach.

  The aquamarine water, clear almost to the sandy bottom, will be our décor.

  We will be surrounded by our family. My parents will get to hear us exchange vows. Luckily for their broken English, Bronson gave us the go ahead, and we’ll be able to unify our wedding and Bachman ceremony as one, as they’ll have no idea what’s going on.

  I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact that he’s done all of this for me. Organized the flights. The ceremony. The reception. It was all his big plan—he was going to take me on a trip and surprise me with this wedding.

  I just happened to get here a few days early.

  At least that’s what Carter tells me before he kisses me when I apologize for the hundredth time.

  We will be wed. Then we will have a short honeymoon and I’ll finally get to experience the family’s island for myself. Then we will go home.

  Where I will be properly punished for my little escapade.

  Now I walk down the makeshift aisle to him. My father’s arm linked with mine. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of my groom... He looks striking in the tux he’d worn here to rescue me from myself. His golden hair is slicked back, his beautiful green eyes smile down upon me.

  “You look stunning, my bride,” he whispers to me. The smile that stretches on his face is one of pride and love. Our hands interlock as the sun sets behind us. Our family dabs at their happy tears, their hair ruffling in the breeze against their sun-kissed faces.

  The string quartet that has been playing quietly in the background stops. There is no sound save for the gentle crash of the waves upon the shore. The time has come for our vows. The ones I was so looking forward to.

  The ones I thought I’d lost my chance to say.

  My voice trembles as I repeat after Rockland, our acting officiant. “Carter Bachman, I promise to love and care for you and I will try in every way to be worthy of your love. I will always be honest with you, kind, patient, and forgiving. But most of all, I promise to be a true and loyal wife, accepting of your guidance and your protection. I love you.” When he slips the ring onto my finger, tingles dance down my arm. The platinum circle signifying eternity, a never-ending union of our two souls. The metal feels heavy, grounding on my finger. With shaky hands, I slide a wider matching band onto his strong finger.

  Now it’s time for me to become an official member of the family.

  The sun is setting over the ocean. The sky becomes dusky. The family each has an unlit candle in their hand.

  John approaches us. He hands a red leather Bachman’s jewelry box to Carter. Carter speaks, his gaze fixed on mine. “All Bachman women wear this necklace. It is a symbol of our creed, the way we live our lives, the eternal care of a man for a woman. For as long as the stars have lit the sky, men have cared for and loved the woman they have pledged their lives to. And women have loved and obeyed those men, accepting them as the headship of their family. Choosing to give the gift of their submission to these men—men who would lay down their lives for the ones they love. The sword is our symbol—the length we are willing to go to, the sacrifice we would willingly make.”

  Carter takes the necklace from the box. I get a glimpse of it and my breath catches in my throat.

  It’s gorgeous. The prettiest one I’ve seen. In a platinum setting, the sword is made of dazzling black diamonds.

  He steps around me. His body brushes up against my back. He brings the chain around my neck. The little charm sits heavy against my chest. His fingers are at the back of my neck, clasping the delicate necklace into place. His hands rest on my shoulders. “Sasha, I freely give you this symbol, and pledge my very life to you. Do you accept?”

  “I do.”

  I throw my arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. His hands press into my lower back, strong and warm.

  When my eyes open, I find each Bachman holding an unlit candle. Carter turns to John, taking his candle, and lighting John’s. John lights Mary’s, and the gesture continues down the line until there are dozens of twinkling lights dotting the beach.

  Rockland continues overseeing the ceremony. He stands tall and proud, his linen suit jacket fluttering in the wind. He holds a candle in his own hand, holding it high as he speaks. “Fire, also as timeless as the Earth, symbolizes the Bachman family’s pledge to one another. To guide, care for, and protect one another above all others. Bachmans, do you accept the union of Sasha and Carter?”

  We do, the hushed voices reply.

  The sound is beautiful. My heart wells.

  “And Bachmans, do you pledge to care for and protect Sasha and Carter, as you would your own blood?” he asks.

  We do.

  “And how long will you hold these two in your care?”

  Forever.

  I stare up at Carter, his face shining back at me. A smile stretches across my face as joy fills me. Forever isn’t long enough.

  Rockland turns to me. He leans over me, kissing me softly on the cheek, his beard tickling my skin. He whispers to me, “Welcome to the Bachman family, Sasha. Give ‘em hell.”

  The quiet reverence of the evening is broken with rowdy cheers.

  Carter gives me one long kiss, then releases me to my parents. They hug me and kiss me and whisper words of adoration in their native tongue. Then I’m passed from person to person, my new family welcoming me.

  Bringing me into their fold.

  Forever.

  Chapter Nine

  Carter

  Plugged, paddled, and pantied.

  Then displayed in the window. Hands behind her head. The reddened curves of her ass peeking out beneath her white, frilly naughty girl panties. She’s so tanned from our honeymoon, I can’t wait to see the innocent white against her sun-browned skin for all the Village to see.

  My rule is this: If you misbehave and the Village suffers for it, you pay the appropriate price.

  To me. And to them.

  Everyone was worried sick when she’d run away. It only took me a few hours to track down her exact location, but still. Very, very naughty.

  And she will pay the price. And the Village will know that she’s been thoroughly punished.

  We’ve returned from the honeymoon. Glorious days of sun and sand and sex. Nights filled with dining, drinkin
g, dancing, and... fucking.

  And not a single punishment. She knew what she had coming and was perfectly behaved. Except in the bedroom—oh, and on a boat, in the ocean, and behind a coat check closet—there she was a very naughty girl. And it was delicious.

  But we are back to our real lives.

  The stunt she pulled—I still see red when I think about returning from the mission that night and walking into our house to find her gone.

  But first, I’ll let her get acquainted with her new kitten. I may be a dominant man, but I’m not a monster.

  I carry her over the threshold, first time as man and wife. Her eyes shine and sparkle as she gazes up at me, her arms wrapped around my neck. We kiss. Then I set her down on her feet. Her pleated white skirt flounces, then settles into place as she lands on her light pink satin shoes. She’s wearing a coral-colored button-down shirt that’s knotted at the waist, showing just a hint of her tanned midriff. Her long ponytail swings as she rushes around downstairs, peeking around corners for her kitten.

  She’s adorable. I love her in the clothing I’ve picked out for her. No more black. No more thongs. And save the spandex for the gym.

  She’s so much softer, sweeter since we’ve changed our lifestyle. Following my lead seems to take a weight from her shoulders—like she’s finally realized she just doesn’t need to be so damn tough all the time.

  I love it.

  Pride wells in my chest as she smiles and kisses me. “Where do you think he’s hiding?” she asks. She claps her hand and I catch a flash of her wedding band. It makes me happy.

  Before I can answer, we hear a tiny meow from the second floor. She spins on her heel and as she does, her skirts and ponytail swish and move with her.

  She flits up the stairs. I’m coming up behind her and I get just a glimpse of her panties as she goes.

  Yellow with colorful hearts.

  And I know she’s got on the yellow bra to match. I’m the one that snapped the clasp this morning.

  The color looks beautiful against her skin.

  She ducks around the corner to the living room. No kitty. She crosses the hall into my office. “There you are! Oh, aren’t you just the sweetest thing!” I walk into the room and she has the gray tabby pressed against her cheek. She looks up at me with utter adoration. And says, “My hero.”

  “I couldn’t leave him behind.” She’s happy and I can hear the kitten purring from where I stand in the doorway.

  She’s so beautiful, it pains me to look at her. There’s a welling in my chest and—damn it, I swear there are tears prickling at my eyes.

  My wife.

  The little kitty squirms from her arms, leaps down onto the floor, and darts away. She goes to follow him, but I grab her arm. “Not so fast,” I say. We need to christen this house.

  Her eyes widen. “What is it?”

  I nod to the massive oak desk that sits in the center of my office. “I’m going to have you. Over that desk. Right now.”

  “But we’ve only just gotten home and—”

  One of my hands lifts the hem of her skirt. The other lays a sharp smack on her heart-covered panties. “Now.”

  She blushes and turns, her skirt flouncing, her hand rubbing at her bottom.

  She’s behind the desk. I’m standing before it, watching.

  She takes her time. She locks her gaze on mine. Slowly, ever so slowly, she crawls her upper body across the desk. Her top puckers, giving me a peek at her breasts in the yellow bra. My sword hangs from her neck, claiming her as mine. Her eyes are sultry and she licks her lips.

  Naughty kitten.

  I come around behind her. The muscles in her shoulders tense at my nearness. A shiver runs down her spine. I drop down into my large cushy office chair—the one on four wheels.

  This is going to be fun.

  Using the lever on the side, I adjust the seat so that my cock should line up perfectly with her sweet little cunt.

  She’s already breathing heavy, just knowing what I’m about to do to her.

  But let’s make this a little more interesting. I open the drawer to the left of her, the wood just brushing up against the fabric of her skirt as I do.

  I find what I’m looking for.

  My wooden straight edge.

  What better way to warm up those little heart panties than a ruler?

  She looks to her right. She sees what I hold. She shoots me a doe-eyed look and bites her lip.

  But she doesn’t protest. If I had to guess, I’d say those little hearts were pretty damp right about now.

  * * *

  Sasha

  My palms are sweaty against the desk. Who the hell has a ruler anymore? Though the second I saw it, I felt a gush.

  Now he’s up from his chair. He flips my skirt up over my back. His fingers are in the waistband of my panties. He snaps the elastic but leaves them in place.

  His hand pats my bottom. Goosebumps rise on my flesh. “Pretty panties,” he says, making me blush hotter than I already am.

  I shift my weight to my other foot. I say, “You should like them—you picked them out after all. If you ask me I think I look better in black—”

  Snap! The ruler comes down across my ass, leaving a stinging line. It makes my pussy clench. He says, “No one asked you.”

  I want to roll my eyes. But inside I’m smiling.

  I adore the fact that he’s taken to picking out all my clothes—right down to my underthings. I love the way his eyes light up when I walk into the room wearing his latest purchase. Feeling feminine and soft.

  I never knew what to wear anyway. The girls always joked my uniform was black spandex.

  I forget the stinging in my ass, because now, he’s behind me, pressing up against my legs. His big hand reaches around and slides down my button-down shirt. It’s hanging and gaping the way I’m laid over the desk and he has easy access to my breasts. He takes one in his hand and squeezes. His fingers dip into the cup of the fabric. He takes my nipple in between his fingers and pinches, hard.

  Just as I’m about to protest, the ruler comes down with a sharp whack. The stinging sends me up on the tips of my ballet-slippered feet.

  “Am I... are you... is this my punishment?” I squeak. If it is, it hurts so good. My pussy is throbbing and wet. I want him between my legs, rubbing all the tension away with his cock.

  He laughs.

  His hand finds my other breast... my other nipple. He pinches that one, too, making a matching pulsation of pain and desire. The ruler comes down again, and I squeal. He says, “Punishment? I’m just having fun.”

  I swallow hard. Twice.

  He cups my breast and squeezes it until I’m whimpering. He says, “Do you really think you’d be getting away with your escapade with a few little smacks of a ruler on a panty-covered bottom?”

  He’s behind me, leaning over my back, his chest brushing me as his mouth finds my ear. His voice is thick with desire, domination as he says, “No, my dear girl. Your punishment will be much, much worse than that.” His hand reaches down, around my side, finding my waist. Dipping into the front of my panties. Parting my slick folds and rubbing my swollen bud.

  Warm, wet release begins to melt in my core.

  I spread my legs. My head lolls back. My eyes closing.

  He leaves my clit. Disappointment fills me.

  He’s tugging at my panties, pulling them down. Over my hips, over my bottom. Leaving them stretched out around my thighs. The tight elastic digs into my flesh.

  His hand is back. I give a sigh of relief to feel him on my begging, aching sex. A big finger slides within my pussy.

  I’m panting, my fingertips clenching at the desk. There’s nothing to grab. I release a moan of pent-up frustration as his finger thrusts within me.

  Once. Only once.

  Then it’s gone.

  And I know exactly where it’s heading.

  I try to stay quiet but despite my best efforts, a mewing noise escapes my lips.

  One
gentle push and he’s in my ass.

  Plunging and stretching.

  Milking the shame from me. Drawing the flush from my cheeks to between my legs.

  My head bows, my fingers stretching out and spreading against the smooth wood as I focus on his words.

  I feel his unshaven stubble brush against my cheek. His breath is hot in my ear. He says, “Baby girl, it’s my job to make sure that you understand something. You are never,” the intruder pushes further in and I gasp, “ever,” another shove and he’s impossibly far inside, “to leave me again.”

  Now his finger is deep within my bottom. He curves the rest of his hand so that it is cupping what he can grab of my ass. Squeezing possessively as I rise further on my toes. My hipbones press against the hard edge of the desk.

  “Yes, sir! I promise it won’t happen again.”

  “I know. Because I’m going to punish you until you know you’re mine. Forever.”

  My knees are shaky as he pulls my panties down my legs and drops them onto the floor. “But now, I’m going to take you over my desk. So every time I sit down to do my work, I’ll think of my wife’s sweet little cunny.”

  Before I can speak, I feel him duck down behind me. I peek over my shoulder and find him kneeling on the floor. I turn back around and squeeze my eyes shut as I feel his fingers parting my ass.

  His face is suddenly behind, buried between my legs, his hot breath caressing my sex. Then his mouth is sucking on my pussy. Hot and wet. I cry out and spread my legs further. Press my chest down harder onto the desk, stretching my upper body out as far as possible. I stand higher on my toes, giving him easier access to pleasure me.

  I think I’m going to come.

  I whine as his mouth caresses my pussy from behind. His tongue is darting within me. His hands are clutching my ass cheeks, holding them apart. He’s licking and sucking, and my mind goes blank. I can think of nothing but the bruising of my flesh where’s he’s grabbing me and his hot, wet mouth on me.

  I feel the orgasm beginning in my core. Tightening—

  He’s gone.

  I cry out in protest. I hear the squeak of the wheels of his desk chair. He drops down into the seat.