Kisses for the Billionaire: Final Kiss by M. G. Morgan Page A

his shirt, each one he opened revealing a little more of his tanned muscled chest.
    He moved to the cuffs of his shirt, each movement deliberate and slow, as though he was teasing me. How could he possibly know just how much I wanted and needed him? Was it written all over my face?
    He removed the cufflinks and the sleeves hung loose over his wrists, brushing the tops of his strong hands, hands I knew intimately.
    The thought of him touching me, brushing the places beneath my clothes that only he could sent a trickle of moisture straight to my core and my body tightened in anticipation.
    “Strip,” he said, his voice soft and yet utterly commanding.
    My body froze, my mind struggling to comprehend the nature of what he was asking of me.
    Why wasn’t he touching me? Stripping the clothes from my body the way he usually liked to?
    “David, I…”
    “I said strip, I won’t ask you again,” his voice brooked no argument and a fine tremble started up in my limbs. My heart began hammering in my chest as I lifted my arms above my head and slowly shrugged out of my jumper.
    I stood before him in a camisole and my soft satin trousers, my fingers playing along the edge of my clothes as I watched him.
    He crooked one eyebrow in my direction, the hunger in his eyes causing me to bite down on my lip hard enough to practically draw blood. Gripping the top of my trousers I pushed them down over my thighs, cringing as I spotted the purple and yellow bruising that covered my legs and hips.
    Without meeting his gaze again, I stripped the camisole top from my body and let it drop to the floor with the rest of my clothes.
    Raising my gaze to his a shiver of desire set my core alight as I caught sight of him drinking my body in. He trailed his gaze down over every inch of exposed skin before finally lifting his smouldering gaze to mine once more.
    “Everything,” he said, that one word causing my belly to clench and tighten.
    I knew what was coming, I knew what he would do to me, the way he would take me. I wanted to throw myself on the floor before him, beg for him to take me out of my misery and give me that which I so desperately wanted and needed.
    Reaching behind my back, I quickly unclasped my bra, my breasts shifting against the lace fabric as I dropped it and automatically used my arms to shield the heavy fleshy globes. It was a pointless action, David had seen every inch of me a million times before. Worshiped every inch of me a million times before, he loved every part of me that made me who I was.
    I was far from perfect, stretch marks and large round soft belly. My arms weren’t firm and my thighs rubbed when I walked but he adored me. In his eyes I was a goddess and it was intoxicating.
    Hooking my fingers into the top of my knickers I wriggled out of them, David’s low guttural groan giving me the extra boost of confidence I needed. Without thinking, I spun away from him, hiding my body from his view as I bent over and stepped out of the scrap of lace I’d called a knickers.
    I knew what his view would be. I was exposing myself to him, letting him see me at my most vulnerable and I wanted him to take the bait.
    “Sweet Christ, Carrie,” his voice was half strangled.
    I glanced back at him, just in time to see him cross the floor to where I stood. He grabbed my shoulders and spun me around to face him once more. The expression in his eyes was the same look the fox might give to the rabbit just before he devoured it. And in that moment I couldn’t have been happier to be the rabbit.
    His hands slid down over my arms to my wrists, grabbing them he jerked them up in front of me, forcing my breasts to spill over the edges of my arms. There was a slight tremor in his hands as he pulled the handcuffs from his pocket and quickly snapped them on over my wrists before I could protest.
    “David, what are you…” I didn’t get the chance to finish my sentence as he pulled me towards the bed and lifted me up onto the edge of