“Miss Mills.”
I felt a hand on my shoulder. Cold. Small. It wasn’t his hand because his hands had moved to my ass in the dream, clenching and squeezing as he drove deep, pinning me to the wall.
I startled awake and tugged my arm away from the clammy touch of a stranger. Blinking a few times, I realized the woman before me was Warden Morda. It was not the man in the dream. Oh, God, it had been a dream.
I gasped and tried to catch my breath as I stared at her.
She was reality. Warden Morda was with me in this room. I wasn’t being fucked by a dominant male with a huge cock and the words of a demanding lover. She had the expression of a constipated cat and it was perhaps the look on my face that had her taking a step back. How dare she interrupt that dream? The best sex I’d ever had didn’t even come close. Holy hell, that was a hot dream. I’d never had head banging, slammed up against the wall kind of sex before, but I wanted it now. My inner walls clenched, remembering what that cock felt like. My fingers itched to grab his shoulders again. I wanted to lock my ankles about his waist, dig my heels into his ass.
This was insane, a sex dream. Now, here. God, it was almost mortifying if it hadn’t been so real. No, it was mortifying because I was supposed to be processed for the coalition front lines, not a job as a porn star. I assumed the processing meant a medical check, birth control implant, perhaps some mental health assessment. I’d been in the military before, but not in space. How different could it be? What kind of processing did the coalition have to force me into a dream porno? Was it because I was a woman? Did they want to ensure I wouldn’t jump a fellow soldier? That was ridiculous, but what else could be the reason for that steamy hot dream?
“What?” I barked, still angry at being wrenched away from such pleasure, embarrassed she caught me when I was so emotionally vulnerable.
She flinched, clearly unaccustomed to the rough edges of new recruits. Odd, since she dealt with them on a daily basis. She had said she was new in her role here at the processing center, but how new was undetermined. Just my luck, this was probably her first day.
“I’m sorry to have disturbed you.” Her voice was meek. She reminded me of a mouse. Drab brown hair, straight and long. No makeup, her uniform making her appear sallow. “Your testing is complete.”
Frowning, I glanced down at myself. I felt like I was at the doctor’s office with the hospital-style gown with a red logo repeated in a pattern on the scratchy material. The chair was like one at the dentist’s, but the wrist restraints were an unwelcome touch. I yanked on them, testing their strength, but they would not yield. I was trapped. Not a feeling I enjoyed, at all. It made me think of the dream where he’d pinned my hands over my head, but that, that I’d enjoyed. A lot. Except he’d made me tell him I wanted to submit, to give control to him. It made no sense because I hated giving control to anyone. I drove when I went out with friends. I organized the birthday parties. I used to buy the groceries for my family. I had a father and three brothers, all bossy. While they’d raised me to be just as bossy as they were, they never allowed me to tell them what to do. They pestered me, teased me, scared away any guy even remotely interested in me. They’d gone off to the military and I’d followed. I craved control as much as they did.
Now, with these damn restraints, I felt trapped. Pinned down with no escape. I glared at the warden.
Her shoulders went slack, shrinking her size another inch or two.
“My testing is over? Aren’t you interested in my accuracy with firearms? Hand-to-hand combat? Piloting skills?”
She licked her lips and cleared her throat. “Your… um… skills are impressive, I’m sure, but unless they were a part of the testing you just finished, then… no.”
My skills in battle were plenty, for I had years of experience, probably more than most coalition recruits. My understanding was that all tests were conducted via simulations like the one I’d just endured, which was odd, but perhaps faster than soldiers proving their worth on the firing range or in an actual aircraft. Was the sex dream some kind of new test? I wasn’t a nympho, but I also wouldn’t turn down a hot guy if the right one came along. But I knew there was a difference between the bedroom and the battlefield. Why would they care what my sexual proclivities were? Did they think a human woman would be unable to resist a smoking hot alien? Hell, I’d been around hot alpha males most of my life. Resistance was not a problem.
Or were they trying to prove there was something wrong with me that I had conjured up a woman being dominated and pinned against a wall by an eager and well-endowed guy? He hadn’t been forceful. I hadn’t feared him. I’d longed for him. I’d begged for him. There had been no explosions, unless you considered the fact that I’d almost come when he’d bottomed out deep inside me. I clenched my core muscles down again, the vividness of the dream causing me to long for the heat of the huge man’s seed filling me.