Page 82 of Journey to the Forbidden Zone

Her hand shifted. She released Carmen’s shoulder and slid it softly, deliciously up the side of her neck. Her touch was firm, possessive, grounding in the chaos.

“I want it, too,” Mila purred. “I want you underneath me. I want you in my power.”

She dragged her fingers across Carmen’s cheek, let Carmen feel her claws, until her index finger came to rest under her trembling, lower lip.

“I want to give you what you need,” she murmured, her voice a low thrum that resonated in Carmen’s bones. Her thumb stroked the pulse point hammering wildly beneath Carmen’s skin. “You’re so strong, so accomplished. I admire you so much, Carmen Díaz. I’ve never met anyone like you.

“But there’s a hole inside you. And you keep it open, empty. Deliberately. I want to fill it, Carmen. I want to be the thing you’re missing, the thing you so desperately need.

“Tell me to do it. Tell me to take you. Surrender to me.”

Unable to resist, she met Mila’s intense gaze. The green was deep, fathomless, promising oblivion. Promising peace. The fear, the responsibility, the desperate need to be the unwavering captain – it could all dissolve under the heat of Mila’s touch and the unbearable sweetness of her scent.

“I …” she gasped, her body straining toward Mila’s. “… can’t.”

For a moment, they stood frozen, staring into each other’s eyes, desire a thick blanket wrapped around them. Then Mila stroked her cheek.

“You’re right,” she said. “You don’t know how. You need to be shown.”

Mila knotted her fingers in Carmen’s hair and yanked her head back. Carmen barely had a moment to gasp before Mila’s lips were on her neck, her tongue licking, her teeth biting.

And Carmen submitted. It wasn’t like the first kiss in the access tube. Not hesitant, not shocked. It was desperate, hungry.

Mila’s free hand slid up Carmen’s back, under her grease-stained tank top, digging into the muscles with possessive strength. The feel of those cool, smooth claws against her bare skin sent shivers of pure, electric pleasure down Carmen’s spine.

Carmen melted into the embrace, a moan torn from her throat. Her hands flew to the base of Mila’s skull, pulling her closer, offering her throat as if Mila were a predator who would devour her.

But Carmen was the one with the hunger.

Mila yanked Carmen’s head away, drawing the tiniest drop of blood with a tooth. She turned Carmen’s head savagely, forced her to meet her stare.

“You’re not in charge here, Little Girl,” she snarled. “You can fight me if you want, but understand this: you’re mine. I’ll decide what you get, what you need.”

And then Mila’s mouth was on hers, tongue seeking, exploring, claiming Carmen’s mouth with a confident dominance that made Carmen’s knees weak. Her claws traced fiery paths up Carmen’s spine, then slid down again, over the curve of her hips, gripping possessively. The thick fabric of Carmen’s pants felt like nothing against the heat of Mila’s touch.

Mila’s lips left hers, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw, down the sensitive column of her throat. Her teeth scraped, her tongue soothed, marking Carmen’s skin. Carmen’s head fell back, a whimper escaping her. Her fingers dug into the flesh beneath Mila’s fur, feeling the solid muscle underneath, the alien strength.

One of Mila’s hands slid to the hem of Carmen’s tank top, claws hooking under the fabric.

“This comes off,” she commanded. “Now.”

Carmen lifted her arms obediently, and Mila stripped the grease-stained top over her head in one swift motion, tossing it aside.

The cool air of Engineering hit Carmen’s overheated skin, raising goosebumps across her soft-brown breasts, her belly. She stood there in her sports bra and pants, exposed, vulnerable.

Mila’s gaze raked over her, possessive and hungry.

“Beautiful,” she murmured.

Her hands came up to cup Carmen’s breasts through the thin fabric, thumbs brushing over hardened nipples. Carmen gasped, arching into the touch.

“So responsive,” Mila purred. She pulled the sports bra up, freeing Carmen’s breasts, and took a nipple into her mouth. The sensation was overwhelming – hot, wet, the slight scrape of teeth, the rasp of Mila’s tongue. Carmen cried out, her hands flying to Mila’s head, holding her there. Mila sucked hard, then bit down gently, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to Carmen’s core. She moved to the other breast, lavishing the same attention, while her hands roamed Carmen’s body – possessive, claiming, exploring every curve.

“Mila,” Carmen moaned.

It was a plea. A surrender. An affirmation. A sound she’d never made before – raw, needy, completely submissive.

Mila lifted her head, her eyes blazing with desire, pupils blown wide with predatory intent.