Free Predator's Salvation by Gracie C. McKeever

lying. He had enjoyed everything they had shared so far and just did not want to admit it. For good measure, she leaned in and stroked her tongue from the side of his neck to his ear, felt him tremble beneath her. “Are you absolutely certain of that?”
    In response, he renewed his efforts to throw her, and shouted at the top of his lungs for help.
    LaMia held him fast, thong soaked thoroughly now from his thrashing. If someone were to blow on her pussy just the right way right then, she was sure she would have come.
    She covered his mouth with her free hand. “Your screams are useless. No one can hear 38
    Predator’s Salvation
    you up here, so stop. ” She removed her hand and something in her voice must have reached him, for he grew still and stared at her. “I am going to collar you and bind you, since you cannot be trusted not to escape.”
    He scowled. “Collar?”
    “So you have no objections against me binding you then?”
    “Hell yes, I do! I don’t want either.”
    “You forget, you have no choice.” She might as well have told him to try and throw her for he kicked his legs out and bucked his hips with renewed vigor.
    “Do you have any idea how much you entice me, Mateo? How much you are exciting me right now? Smell…” She slid her free hand into her pants and dipped a finger into her soaked cunt before bringing out her hand and thrusting her scented finger under his nose.
    His nostrils flared and he shuddered.
    LaMia knew he reacted out of lust and not revulsion though she was sure he would deny this. She could smell his arousal, his clean heady musk wafting up to envelop her keen senses.
    She glanced down at his sculpted face, insides melting at the hungry look in his eyes, the conflicting silent plea for her not to do anything about what she saw.
    She leaned in to kiss each eyelid, his long curly lashes tickling her lips as he fluttered his eyes closed. She moved down his face, gently kissing his nose and cheeks as she willed the T-shirt off his body and made it disappear.
    “How’d you—?”
    “Be still.” She made her own bustier disappear and covered his body with hers, reveling in the hard, broad width of his chest and all that glorious warm caramel skin finally touching her aching bare breasts as she rubbed herself against him. She groaned.
    He writhed beneath her and sunk his teeth into his lower lip. “Don’t”
    “Still giving orders?”
    He glared up at her, and growled.
    “Do you want me?”
    “No,” he said but pitched his hips into her nonetheless, moaning low in his throat.
    “You want me.” She released his hands and he immediately planted them on her hips and flipped her beneath him to reverse their positions.
    She stared up at him, wary and nervous but no longer wanting to fight with him. She just wanted to be who and what she was, needed and longed for him to take her body and give her his willingly.
    She hoped she had not made a grave error in judgment by releasing him.
    “Yes,” he whispered and lowered his head to kiss her.
    She was momentarily confused as to whether he was answering her last unspoken thought or her last statement, until the piquant taste of him shattered all coherent thought. His 39
    Gracie C. McKeever
    lips inflamed her entire body, sent hot sparks shooting straight to her center, and more cream flowed out of her cunt and into her thong.
    Mateo slid his lips from her mouth and she immediately mourned the loss before he trailed his tongue along the smooth column of her throat, nipping and sucking his way down to her breasts. He paused with his mouth hovering over one hard, erect nipple and looked at her.
    “And you want me, too.”
    She said nothing, silently slid her hands up to his head and buried her fingers in his light-brown hair, the full tendrils like silk in her hands as she arched her body towards him, drawn to his heat, drawn to the erection that grew and throbbed behind the zipper of his jeans.
    She did not care why he now acquiesced