CarnalTakeover Read Online Free PDF

against corporate interests that wanted to rape
the land. It was another to be blind to the energy needs of the country. If the
fuel could come from here, with little impact on the environment, that was a
win-win for everyone. Besides, he hadn’t offered them charity, just a chance to
make life easier, the same as his parents had done for him. His father,
especially, had warned Daniel about caving to desire, letting it become the
most important thing in his world. The good feelings would last a moment, while
the complications they produced might linger for a lifetime.
    Or for the length of this project.
    He huffed out a sigh, not wanting to consider how
uncomfortable it would be to see Alexandra every day once he’d watched her go
at it with Nat, Red, and Junior. God, Junior most of all. When it came to
women, that kid had nads where his brains should be. Fucking was all Junior
could think of. He didn’t care about Alexandra except as a warm body with a
cunt and boobs.
    Was that what she wanted from a guy? Pure sex with a lot of
kink?
    She’d claimed to be into everything. Daniel wondered who’d
initiated her into the lifestyle and figured it was an executive during one of
her corporate jobs. Most likely an attorney in a five-thousand-dollar suit who
couldn’t wait to teach her what really went on in those impressive high-rises.
    Daniel frowned at the thought and dismissed it, remembering
his own initiation during college, with a woman in his apartment building.
    Several years older than him, she’d relished discipline. He
discovered how awesome it was to be fully in charge, the ground rules of their
relationship all laid out. Nothing messy. No shitty surprises. A blueprint for
how he wanted to lead his life, keeping a tight rein on his feelings that could
trap or wound him, destroying his future. Once he’d established his career, he
traveled too much to settle down, spending months away from a home base. Hell,
he didn’t even have a permanent residence anymore.
    And he liked that just fine.
    The same as he did BDSM role playing, the erotic games,
calling the shots.
    With the right woman.
    He leaned against his car door and pictured Alexandra
stripped to skin while he remained dressed. Her face lowered in submission,
hair free and flowing over her shoulders, down her back, candlelight bringing
out the reddish highlights in those silken waves. He considered what they’d
smell like. Shampoo? Perfume? Something light and sweet or dark and sultry?
    His cock thickened. His thoughts grew dangerous.
    He imagined her hands manacled and lifted above her head,
the chains secured to hooks in the ceiling. There’d be no slack in the irons,
the links so taut she’d have to stand on her toes, tightening her calves to
maintain balance. Shackles would circle her ankles, those restraints held to
bolts in the floor, perfectly spaced so she’d have no choice except to part her
legs widely. She’d be exposed, completely vulnerable. Her buttocks tensed as
she prepared for the punishment to come.
    He’d make her wait for it, silence filling the minutes, time
crawling by at an agonizingly slow pace while he regarded her inability to get
away from him. Her lack of protection from every fucking thing he intended to
do. A faint sheen of perspiration would coat her skin while her breasts would
quiver with each of her ragged breaths. Her nipples would be oh so firm, a rosy
color rather than a light pink, her bush darker than her other hair, her cunt
slick with her excitement, moist with expectation.
    He’d be impatient as hell to plow into her, but wouldn’t.
Not just yet, recalling how she’d mentioned punishment at the pizza place.
Whatever rocked his world, she’d said. He’d warned her about not knowing what
she was getting herself into. She hadn’t listened. Bad, bad girl. He’d
have to show her.
    Slowly, he’d pull his belt from his jeans’ loops, the rasp
of leather against cloth exciting and intimidating her even more.