He turned abruptly and came after me again, a silent shadow, white teeth gleaming in a wicked grin, his feral eyes dancing with the joy of the hunt. I screamed as he pounced and darted to my left. He was big but I was quicker. I feinted and darted, his hands gliding over me, missing me, and grasping air. Touch then go. Pounce and evade. Fleeing, chasing. Dangerous foreplay that somehow felt natural to the cat within me, a wild courtship that heated me to liquid softness so that my musky scent wafted behind me, an invisible trail to tease his nostrils, driving him even more aggressively forward.

I feinted to the right. He grabbed my arm and I turned and raked him with my nails. I snarled, teeth snapping at his hand and he released me and I was free once more, laughter trailing tantalizingly behind me. I faked left, darted right, and glanced back to see him right behind me, eyes intent, a great silent stalking shadow.

He leaped and tackled me. His massive weight hit me hard, rolling us both to the ground. I scrambled to my knees and tried to crawl out from underneath him, my heart pounding, my eyes gleaming with excitement, but he captured me, one hand clamping my waist with an iron grip. One twist and my hair was wrapped tightly around his right hand, trapping me, holding me still with rough firmness. His teeth sank into the back of my neck, not breaking skin, but almost. The delicious promise was there in the edge of his sharp teeth, the threatening pressure, the warning growl, the forceful shake. All of it came together like proper ingredients thrown serendipitously together.

Submission clicked in me like a switch thrown and I stilled, shuddering, no longer wanting to run from him. Purring, I arched up and pressed back against those delicious teeth, my hands braced on the ground. His restraining hand relaxed, opened, and left my waist. A flat palm smoothed down my buttocks. I pushed my eager bottom back against him with an inviting wriggle.