Darling & Commander

The Nymph: 22

Gallaleigha POV:

I do not have time to act before Brock crashes us into the wall, breathing so heavily I can almost taste the mint he had been chewing on our journey to the village. The acerbic aftershave still feebly smellable and stimulating the rush of dopamine I feel when his exposed chest collides with mine. His eyes hold a darkness that is not the demeanor of a ruthless general, they hold the obscurity of a beautiful man who hides from the spotlight.

"I need you." Brock growls, his grip tautening around my midriff as he sucked a moan out of me from along my ears. "Speak now, darling. Tell me to cease my actions right now, for I do not hold any promise to finding the ability to pause if I taste your saccharine lips."

I gasped while his fervent fingers in dire straits crawl up my stripped, glossy, slippery skin of my collarbone. They reach farther and farther until he groans when I careen into his desperate touch.

"Oh, commander." I whimper out. "Please... I have waited too long for you... for you to stop now.."

My faltering, quaking gasps seem to suffice and compensate enough for him, and suddenly his robust and brawny hand cups my face with the most intense expression I have yet to see from him. Not intense as the metaphorical veil he hides behind, but intense in such a way that I have never seen him want anything more.

"M-"

Brock's lips meet mine, courteous and mannerly initially, mouths closed, merely lips upon lips, but soon the ardor triggers something within our entwined souls. I grapple and clutch his brawny frame, clawing urgently to keep my knees from buckling together. His lips move in unhurried, considering movements as he is taking his time with me. But now it is I that cannot so much as glance in his direction without my heart missing at least minutes worth of pulses.

"Oh, Galla, my sweet little darling nymph..." He laments into my lips, with his own, heated and amorous. "You gift me the most unhinged thoughts..."

"Then act on them..." I murmur, before adding, "Commander."

Brock's honor at last, has expired, and he comes undone. He takes every opportunity I whimper or whine to slither his tongue to tangle against my own. I could go into detail, spare everything, tell you each hitch in my breathing or little noise he makes. But I will not, as what we share extends beyond this physical contact. No, it is something deeper, and as he grips my body to lift me onto my bed, I can feel the passion and devotion. Each touch, each kiss bringing us closer to this blissful ecstasy.

And I believe, in my naive, inexperienced sense, that what I feel right now...

"I need to tell you something.." I mutter into his lips, chest heaving as I make out my words just scarcely.

"Can it not wait?" Brock shudders, trembling above me as he toys with the strap of my brassiere.

"I- if you would like me to delay..." My heart sinks moderately until he remorsefully bobs his head, cupping my face.

"My attention is yours, my darling." He nods, thumbing my pink cheeks as he heaves breaths in and out, the puffs faintly brushing against my face.

This man. My general, he brings me to tears every time. He will always listen and consider each word I have to say before letting me make the final decision- myself. He is in every way perfect in a way my former concubine had not been, and my heart will never find itself empty around him.

"I- I needed to ask you before we persist.." I croak, my cold blooded being unable to take the heat of his blistering torrid yearning. "What do you feel? What am I to a man such as yourself?"

Brock double takes, his eyes flickering for a moment before his expression mellows and he caresses my face with such tender fondness I may very well thaw and liquify in this position.

"When I see you... all phenomena no longer matters to me. For as long as I am able to remember, I do not recognize a time where my attention was focused on any woman who had achieved to content me the way you do. Not only intimately, moreover the feeling I procure when you are near. I have become an addict; dependent on the constant dopamine that floods my soul until the only way I can release it is through touching you." He kisses my face across my freckles over and over again between his sugary words. "You have become my drug, and I hold no intentions of ever summiting myself to sobriety ever again."

"Say... please say it, Brock. Blatant and clear, I do not want to be mislead once again." I tremor, his glassy eyes traversing over each and every crevasse that lies in my skin.

"Sweetest thing under the sun..." He plants one last kiss on my nose before smiling against my lips amiably. "I love you, Galla. Whether you belong to me or more conceivably, I belong to you, I do not- I cannot bring myself to care. I love you, I desire you,  and I have since the day that I met you. The woman whom is the epitome of beauty, the woman who has made me feel like I do not have to strive to be perfection around her, the woman who showed me her way of life knowing I could come with destruction for it. You recall the way I first looked at you, I am positive of it. I felt it in my own soul; you reminded me how to love. And I love you more than I have ever loved anything else in this entire universe. Utterly and completely trapped, you are my darling and I am your commander, and that is the way I crave it to be forevermore."

And yet again this magnificent man has brought me to tears. They trickle down my face, cascading across the tanned freckles, and diverse from before, Brock does not apologize. He simply kisses each of the rolling droplets, protectively stroking my head tenderly and twirling my hair between his fingers. I can tell he's mentally counting the seconds go by as I sob with shallow breaths. At last, since soothing me into primarily hiccupping, he collapses on the bed next to me, and I draw in a sharp breath.

Brock's ears and fingers are yet again purple, and he hides his hands in disgust at the sight.

So, so valuable. I cannot fathom why he does not see it.