Corporal And Captain Ch 01

"Champaign?" Rorke asked, as they sat down at the restaurant. He had been all smiles since the news. And affectionate enough at home that they almost hadn't made their reservation.

"I probably shouldn't," she reminded him patiently.

"Oh. Right." He remembered, "Hmm. Sparkling water?"

"Sounds great."

He nodded, and ordered when the waiter came back. That done, he settled into his chair, and leaned forward a little, wanting, even in a small way, to be closer to her. Brooke held up her water glass. "Here's to the next little one being just as brilliant as the last."

He laughed and clinked glasses, "I can't do better than that."

"No kidding. She's going to be hell as a teenager."

He took a drink, and set it down, "Oh. I hadn't thought about that. You're right."

"Oh that's comforting," she said playfully. "Thanks Rorke."

He blushed a little and shrugged, "Maybe we'll get lucky, and she'll be one of those teens who just really cares about social causes?"

"That doesn't sound comforting. Wasn't your sister like that?"

"Arguably, I was too."

"True. Wouldn't want that." Brooke nudged him under the table.

He grinned, "I think it's safe to say, whatever happens, she'll care a lot. I guess we'll just need to help her learn to handle that. Hey, do you still have that maternity uniform?"

"No. They pass it around," Brooke said, disgusted.

"Oh... you look so good in uniform."

"Not that one. No one looks good in that one."

"We'll figure something out." he said, with a bit of a grin. "Nine months is a long time to go without seeing you in uniform."

"It's a long time to go without a proper one. It makes you feel like a whale."

He gave her a sympathetic smile across the table, his thumb tracing her knuckle lovingly,

"Maybe. I thought you looked beautiful."

"You see something a little different."

"I do." he agreed, "And that doesn't change how you feel; I get that. But I wanted you to know."

"Thanks Rorke," she said sincerely. "You've always seen the best in me. "

He smiled softly, "I've only ever seen what was already there."

"You're too corny, you know that? "

His smile deepened, not denying it in the slightest "Am I?"

"Just a bit. "

"You have your moments too. Maybe I'm rubbing off on you."

"Oh you think so? "

"Maybe." he said, "Like I say, you have your moments"

"And we're sticking together this time around."

"We were the first time too," she reminded him.

"Physically." he clarified, "We were apart a lot, the first time."

"We were."

"And honestly, communicating through coded messages just isn't the same." he joked

"I don't know if i ever understood those totally."

He laughed, some of his easy smile coming back, "It's hard to be romantic when you're limited to phrases like, 'the dog is in the doghouse.'"

"I assumed that one was about sex," she smirked.

He shrugged, failing to look innocent, "Could be. I don't really recall."

"You seemed to a moment ago."

"Maybe I'll recall later tonight?" He said, mischief in his eyes

She laughed into her glass as he smiled at her across the table, savouring her laugh, and how it came more frequently of late. He reached a hand across the table, offering it to her. She took it without looking around to see who was watching, her body relaxed. He smiled softly, in a way that she knew was utterly comfortable, his hand melting into hers. His eyes were gentle and loving, effortlessly vulnerable with her.

"Let's hope I figure it out then."

"Maybe it involves a collar?" he guessed, playfully.

"On you, I hope," she said, imagining her wardrobe options for later.

"If that's where you want it." he said, approving of the look in her eye. "I think you have a better idea for you."

"Oh do you?"

"I know that look." He grinned, his eyes devouring the strong line up the side of her neck just as skillfully as his lips, no-doubt, would later.

"I like reminding you of who's in charge."

"Yes, Captain." He said, adoringly.

She leaned forward, challenging. "Is that the last title I held,

Corporal

?"

"No, Captain." He said with mock apology, savouring her strength, "How shall I redeem myself?"

"Later," she promised, turning back to her menu as the waiter returned, mock innocence.

***

The actions were familiar, but the tone was different. A four star restaurant instead of a dive. Love renewed and strengthened-- tried and tested-- instead of the first sparks of attraction. Hard-won peace instead of the exhilaration of a fight. The slow chase to the front door. The stolen meeting of their eyes. Her awareness at the fact that he couldn't keep his eyes off her as she walked. Her hand refusing to cooperate as she tried to work her keys, hot lips on the back of her neck.

Brooke let for a painfully soft moan that only made Rorke want her more, her demeanor breaking even before they were fully alone. She could feel his breath through his teeth, against her ear. His own response to her call, barely restrained.

Finally the key slipped into the lock and she made a sound of relief, pushing it open with one hand before turning to face him and crashing their lips together. His hands were in her hair as he responded, so eager for her that he forgot the door. Brooke, however, didn't. With the old habit of security and precaution, she kicked it shut with too much force, the door quaking in its frame. He seemed to that was funny. She could feel his smile against her lips as he traced his fingertips down the sides of her dress. She caught his shirt tail in her hands and pulled it forcibly off.

"What? "

"We're always breaking things." Rorke gasped in-between moments of her.

"I didn't break anything," Brooke said with a daring smile. "Not yet anyway. "

"The night is young."

"So it is. "

He pulled her closer, his lips being drawn along the strong lines in her neck. His fingertips teased the dress higher, as his lips arrived at her ear. "What do you want to break, Captain?"

She smirked at the game, biting his earlobe roughly with her teeth. "I'm going to make you cum so hard you break, " she promised, dangerously erotic. In response, he pressed her against the wall, his breath a low growl from arousal.

"I want to serve under you until I'm dry."

"Then get on your knees," she ordered.

"Yes, ma'am."

He drew the order out as he obeyed, lingering first on her collarbone and then in her cleavage as he worked his way south. At last, he was on his knees before her, his worship of her evident in his eyes. The top of his freshly shined shoes made a high squeak against the floor.

She sighed at the sight of him, fingers grasping into his short hair as she guided his lips along the hem of her dress. He was more than eager as he followed her lead, but forced himself to tease up her dress slowly. His stubble played against her thighs as he pressed his lips against her panties, drinking deep of the scent of her arousal.

She shivered with pleasure and pulled away from his touch, leaving him on his knees before her, just out of reach, dress hitched up so just a hint of her lacy panties showed. He adjusted his tie-- more of a twitch than anything else-- as he looked up at her, his desire unmasked.

"

Anything

." Rorke begged, "Anything you want, Captain. But I need to taste you."

Brooke smirked but didn't say anything, instead reaching down for the hem of her dress. She tugged up the left side slightly, then the right, rocking her hips back and forth as she pulled it over her head, letting it drop at her feet. He devoured every inch of her with his eyes.

"I'll pass laws to build statues in worship of you," he promised. "

Please

."

She took a step back, her tip of her heel catching ever so slightly on the dress. Without looking away from him, she unclasped the bracelet she'd been wearing and dropped that too, taking a second step back towards their bedroom.

She could see his eagerness to follow. To touch. To smell. To taste. She raised her hand to her ear, taking off her left earring with care.

"Follow me.

Slowly

. On your knees, " she ordered, before turning her back to him and walking away.

"Yes, Captain." Rorke replied, though he couldn't be sure she even heard him before she was gone. It took him a moment to comply, almost hypnotized by the slow movement of her ass ahead of him. Slowly, he placed one hand in front of another to follow. But he never looked down, not wanting to miss a heartbeat of this sweet torture.

She turned a corner and he lost sight of her. But relief came in the form of bits of her outfit, one at a time, littering the floor. He found himself mentally undressing her. He came upon her other earring, then her bra, her necklace. His heart raced at the sight of her familiar black lace panties hanging from the doorknob of their bedroom. He stopped for a moment as he caught the scent of her the black lace, their scent touching something animal in his mind. It took him effort to pull himself out of the moment. Long enough that he wasn't sure what to expect in the bedroom.

She was sprawled across their bed like a goddess, wearing only her thigh-high stockings and black heels. Her arms laid against the sheets over her head, like she was halfway through a morning stretch. One leg posed on the mattress, to draw his eye down the line of her body.

The vision of Brooke struck him such that he forgot to keep breathing. His mind slowed, absorbing every detail: the alluring indentation her stockings made against her thighs, the way the muscles of her legs perked in heels, the curve of her strong arms above her head and how their posture drew her breasts gently upwards, the sprawl of her dark hair against the soft sheets, the curve of her neck, the faint scent of her shampoo and

her

. The effect all of her was having on him, his pulse. How nude he felt, even fully clothed, before her like this.

"I belong to you," he said in supplication and eagerness, "Let me bury myself between your legs forever. Let me be under you, and feel your stockings against my hips as you ride me. Let me kiss your shoulder blades and bite at your neck as I serve you from behind. Let me do anything. But

please

, let me touch you."

She turned her head to look at him, gesturing with a curled finger for him to come closer, eyes alight at his words. He felt the eyes of her divinity on him as he met her eyes and crawled to her.

"Let me suck your nipples and masturbate you, without you ever having to lift a finger. Let me feel your legs crossed behind me, holding my body as I fuck you. Let me force you against the edge of the bed, and fuck you, mewling, in your ass."

Brooke took his chin in her hand thoughtfully, considering his desperate requests like she hadn't decided just how she would torture him yet. Eventually her smile set and she pulled him into a soft kiss, making him quiver.

"Start at the beginning, " she ordered in a calm, even voice that made him want to see her fall apart all the more. "

In order

. Is that understood?"

He was practically vibrating with anticipation, his lips desperately trying to catch hers. But he was unwilling to disobey the implicit command of how she held his chin just at bay.

"At the beginning." Rorke echoed, words feverish.

"Between my legs, " she reminded him, like he was a fresh private who needed the lesson repeated. "That was what you wanted, wasn't it?" She kissed him again, deeply, letting him figure out what he was to do in his own time.

"It's everything I want." He said eagerly, as he pulled himself up onto the bed, chasing the goddesses' kiss. She let him continue to kiss her until his hand started to wander down her body.

"Corporal," she scolded. "At. The. Beginning. "

"Captain." Rorke replied automatically.

Refocusing on the task felt like refocusing the whole of his being, but he began to work his way down her body again. His lips again focusing on her collarbone, and then the space where her dress has shown off her cleavage. Echoing, and despite overwhelming urge, never deviating.

He could feel her tension relax as he worked his way down, pausing at her stomach-- at the thought of her carrying his child. The kiss there was less about arousal, and more about love. To her, it like the way he kissed Rebecca's head, when they were reading together before bed. Her fingers caught on his hair, lovingly, until the urgency of her arousal made her push him lower.

Rorke's stubble played against her abdomen as he obeyed, drawing energy from her, and he took a moment to stroke her breasts as he continued ever southward. She let out a desperate sigh as he found his goal, feeling herself relax and tense up all at once. He took his time, lips giving soft, teasing touches, never yet focusing on any part of her for long.

Her leg twitched and he had to smile at the unguarded reaction. Her mouth was open ever so slightly, her breathing audible. He took it as encouragement, rewarding her honestly by drawing his lips slowly up her own. She was soft and warm and perfect. Something about it reminded him of other stolen nights, a hidden moment when the world thought they were enemies.

He ached for her, even as she was writhing under his attentions. All he could taste and smell and feel was her. His lover. His partner. The mother of his child-- children, now. He stopped teasing, wanting to give her what she wanted, just as she'd given him everything he'd ever wanted. When his lips closed around her clit, her sigh was heartbreakingly sincere, her head thrown back against the bed.

"Oh god. Right there," she moaned.

She could feel his grin against her body, loving her reaction to what he was doing. If it didn't feel so good, she would have stopped to chastise him. Instead, he focused in on the spot with hot lips and an eager tongue.

Her thighs flexed, almost trapping him before she forced them back open, craving more. Her hands went to her own hair, tugging lightly as she worked her fingers through it. Rorke shifted on the bed, her reaction making him all the more eager to please her. His finger teased at her opening now, even as he alternatingly sucked and licked. She bucked into him, demanding the added sensation.

Smiling against Brooke's clit, he slipped his middle finger into her, arching it up to give a tentative stroke of her front wall. She moaned, hard enough that if she'd realized, she would have been embarrassed.

"More," she ordered, sounding hungry, but more together given the situation than he would have guessed. Practice, he guessed, from the few times he'd been stuck under her desk, between her legs when someone arrived in her office.

He pulled back, but only to slip another finger inside of her. The two went to work in earnest now, stroking the formation at the front of her body. He took the chance to apply pressure with his lips against and around her clit, intensifying the sensation as he played with her nub with his tongue.

Now

she was losing control.

He could see it in the way she moved and the sounds she made. They'd barely started and she was already so close.

He alternated which finger was stroking, so she never got a break from the sensation. She could feel her clit engulfed in the warmth of his mouth, his tongue less gentle with her now as he urged her on.

Brooke let out the beginning of a scream, covering it with her fist, biting into the skin in an attempt to stay quiet. Her nails scratched down her body, red lines down her breasts and stomach, the slight pain making everything more sensitive as she came. Encouraged, his hot mouth and eager fingers pushed into her without pause as she crested the wave. Knowing nobody was home, and not caring what the neighbours thought of them tonight-- of all nights-- he never gave an inch as he pushed her body to it's limits.

The sound broke out through her clenched hand and she turned her head, screaming into the pillow. It did little to mask the sound as she rode out the feeling, bucking against his face. It was music to him. He struggled to keep up the play, waiting until he knew, full and well, that he had squeezed the

every last drop

of pleasure from her before finally letting her rest.

She collapsed, taking gasping breaths as she pulled him up towards her, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades. He knew those nails would leave marks, and he would wear them like a badge. His lips met hers tenderly, almost inquisitively, asking without words if she wanted more now or rest first. Her kiss was sloppy and calm.

"Good soldier, " Brooke rewarded him when they broke apart, running a hand down his cheek affectionately. He smiled in reply, leaning into her affectionate hand.

"I'm happy to be of service, ma'am."

Her thumb ran along his lips, gathering her own juices before bring it to her lips, sucking them in and rolling her tongue over them. She held his gaze before pulling them out slowly, with an audible pop. He watched with obvious excitement.

"You are

so

hot," he said, his voice in reverence.

She smirked and wet her bottom lip before pulling him into another kiss, languishing slow. His kiss was harder. He tried to calm it for her, to keep a pace, but she could sense and feel all his unused energy, bubbling just under the surface.

She rolled him onto his back without breaking the kiss.

"Do you remember what's next?"

"Serving under you." Rorke supplied. The words had to be forced out of him, such was his excitement.

"Exactly right, " Brooke agreed, pleased.

He felt air momentary forced out of him, as she took a firm grip firm on his tie and tugged it to the side to restrict his breathing. He pulled himself up just a little, the lack of air, and trusting her with his tie doing nothing to calm him.

"What do you want me to do?"

"

You

don't do anything. You're my toy to play with now."

Rorke shivered, wanting to touch her so badly. He had been

so

good. His clothes felt like they were his enemy, an obstacle between him and her. But he didn't want to break the role, so instead, he clutched at the sheets.

"I'm your toy."

Brooke smiled confidently, leaning down to run her tongue up his neck from the loop of the tie to just behind his ear. He turned his head as she did, giving her better access. She could feel the breath in his throat shuddering, under her tongue.

"Please..." he gasped.

"Please what? " she asked torturous, nibbling on his ear.

"Please. Let me feel you." His words came clumsily, having trouble finding the words with her at his ear. She leaned back on her heels, slowly undoing his tie.

Brooke considered her options before deciding with confidence. "You may touch my shoes."

He groaned, wanting so much more, but obliged. His fingers crawled the bed, in search of her feet. Her heels pressed to his sides, one digging into his leg slightly. She pulled the tie off, rolling it, one hand over the other until it came free and she let it fall from her fingers to land at the side of the bed. Rorke's fingers embraced her heels, tracing the delicate, tantalizing strap along the front, and imagining his was tracing the equally tantalizing curve of her spine.

She was already undoing his dress shirt, but stopped after three buttons, running her hands through a dusting of chest hair. He groaned, arching up into her fingers, desperate for the touch. His fingers pinched the tips of her heels, imagining her nipples under his fingers.

She kissed his bare chest gingerly, her fingers undoing one after another as her lips danced lower. Brooke didn't bother to untuck his shirt, instead turning her attention to his thick cock, tight against his dress pants. She could feel the shuddering breath she was inspiring under her lips. His fingers could just reach one of her heels now, and it traced the arc, imagining the warmth where her legs met.