Page 83 of Journey to the Forbidden Zone

“Tell me,” she commanded, her voice a husky rasp. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you surrender. Tell me you need me to take you.”

The words were a gauntlet thrown. A demand for total capitulation. Carmen stared into those demanding, green irises, panting, her body screaming. The need was too great. The release too tantalizing. The scent, the heat, the sheer rightness of Mila’s dominance overwhelmed her.

“Yes,” Carmen gasped. “God, yes. Take it. Take me. Please.”

The ‘please’ wasn’t polite. It was a ragged sob of pure need. Mila’s answering smile was fierce, triumphant.

“Good girl,” she said.

The praise, the condescension, sent another jolt of electric submission through Carmen. Mila’s hands moved to Carmen’s pants, fingers deftly unfastening the clasp. The sound of thezipper was obscenely loud in the confined space. Mila hooked her thumbs in the waistband and slowly—torturously slowly—dragged both pants and underwear down over Carmen’s hips, letting them pool at her ankles.

Carmen stood there, naked except for her bunched-up sports bra and her boots, exposed in the harsh work-lights of Engineering. Mila’s gaze traveled down Carmen’s body

“Look at you,” Mila murmured. “So fucking perfect. And so very wet.” Her hand slid between Carmen’s thighs, fingers stroking through slick folds. Carmen gasped, her hips bucking into the touch. “All this for me?”

“Yes,” Carmen whimpered. “Yes, for you.”

Mila’s fingers explored with deliberate leisure – stroking, circling, teasing. She found Carmen’s clit, rubbing slow circles that made her legs tremble. Then her fingers moved lower, circling the entrance but not penetrating, just applying delicious, torturous pressure.

“Please,” Carmen begged, her voice breaking. “Please, Mila….”

“Please what?” Mila’s voice was dark honey, commanding. “Tell me exactly what you need, Carmen. Use your words.”

“Touch me,” Carmen gasped. “Fuck me. Please, I need … I need you inside me.”

Mila’s smile was wicked.

“Such a desperate little thing.” One finger pressed inside, just barely, then withdrew. Carmen whimpered her frustrated need. “So used to being in control. So used to getting what you want.” Another shallow thrust, another withdrawal. “But not anymore.”

“Mila, please!”

“No.” Mila’s free hand came up, gripping Carmen’s jaw, forcing her to meet those blazing green eyes. “You don’t get to rush this. You don’t get to demand. You surrender. Completely. You take what I give you, when I give it to you. Understand?”

Carmen’s breath came in ragged pants. Every nerve in her body was screaming for more, for release, but Mila held all the power. And God help her, Carmen wanted it that way.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I understand.”

“Good.” Mila released her jaw, her hand sliding back down Carmen’s body. “Now turn around. Hands on the bulkhead.”

Carmen obeyed, turning to face the metal wall, placing her palms flat against the cool surface. Her heart hammered. Behind her, she heard Mila’s approving hum.

“Spread your legs,” Mila commanded. “Wider.”

Carmen shifted her stance, spreading her thighs, feeling exposed, vulnerable. Her pants were still trapped around her ankles. She had to push her ass out, arch her back.

Present like a cat.

Mila’s hands slid over Carmen’s thick cheeks, squeezing, kneading. Then one hand slid between her legs from behind, cupping her sex. Carmen moaned, pressing further back into the touch.

Mila’s fingers stroked through her folds again, gathering wetness, spreading it. Then finally, one finger pushed inside. Carmen cried out, her head falling forward, her forehead pressing against the cold metal. Even just one finger felt like relief, like finally being given what she’d been begging for.

“Damn, you’re tight,” Mila growled. Her finger moved, slow and deep, curling to find that spot inside that made Carmen see stars. “And so fucking wet. Listen to yourself.”

The obscene sounds of Mila’s finger moving in Carmen’s slick heat filled the space between them. Carmen’s face burned with shame and arousal. She’d never been so exposed, so thoroughly claimed.

Mila’s free hand came up, sliding up Carmen’s spine to tangle in her hair. She pulled, arching Carmen’s back further, forcing her to lift her head.

“I want to hear you,” Mila said. “Don’t you dare hold back. Let me hear what I do to you.”