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He leaned in to her again and she wrenched her head away, locking her mouth against his abuse, her hands shoving at his chest. He reared back from her in fury, a warning blazing in his eyes. He never spoke during a hunt fuck; but she suddenly knew what he wanted. He wanted her pain and fear, that much was obvious, but underneath all that, he needed her willful submission.
He increased the pressure on her jaw again and this time, she opened for him, her tongue sliding out from behind the safety of her teeth. His head dipped towards her mouth again and he captured her tongue between his teeth, drawing it further out of her mouth and holding it there, clamped between his jaws.
Clarice made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. Her mind flashed back to the prison nurse Hannibal had killed. He had taken out her tongue with nothing more than his teeth. This time her terror was genuine. He wouldn’t…..would he? She trembled beneath his body, dragging shallow, hiccupy breaths through her open mouth, but she didn’t fight him for control. He bit down incrementally, his eyes boring into hers from inches above her face. She dropped her hands from his chest to lay at her sides on the bed. Finally satisfied with her offering, Hannibal released the meat of her tongue from his grasp.
She gasped in relief, but he refused to allow her time to recover, his hands and mouth shifting immediately to her breasts. He fondled her brutally through the thin silk of her nightgown. He closed his lips viciously over one nipple through the fabric, worrying her breast with his teeth. He pulled back to yank the fabric from her breast and attacked her nipple again. The agony was so acute and immediate that she cried out in earnest. His was so severe; she was afraid he would actually bite the tiny bud off. Her hands shoved through his hair reflexively, wildly trying to pull him off her. He growled against her breast, his hands sliding down to tighten on her sides painfully, just below her ribcage. Her body bucked against him, instinctively trying to double over, but his weight kept her on the bed.
"Please, Hannibal!" she begged, tugging hard on his hair.
He finally liberated her nipple from the prison of his teeth, widening his jaw to settle more of the rounded globe in his mouth. He bit down again, leaving a harsh imprint of his teeth ringing her breast. He tore at her until he pierced her skin triumphantly. He raised himself off her, settling his weight back on his knees. She looked down her body to find that he had bled her, a ring of tiny crimson droplets surrounded one areola. She raised her eyes to his face to find Hannibal drawing his tongue across the smear of blood on his lower lip, eyes closed, rapturous. His entire body shuddered and his eyes burst open. His rough hands grasped at the silk of her gown and rent it. It gave up with a tremulous whisper, shredding in his big hands. He flung the pieces from her body, leaving her naked beneath his blistering gaze.
He reached down, forcing two fingers roughly inside her. She knew she was moist and ready for him; somehow the fear and pain he wroght did nothing to chill the heat in her core. He wouldn’t want her wet, but there was nothing he could do about it now; she had made herself come earlier, once in the bath, and again just before falling asleep.
He snarled, his teeth white in the darkness of their room. He used his hands on her hips to flip her swiftly onto her stomach. Without pause, his hands grasped her hips, bruising the thin skin over her hipbones. He dragged her ass forcefully to the height of his cock. She struggled to maintain her pose at the angle he set for her, balancing her weight on her forearms, but he shoved her forward, her chest flattening out across the mattress, her head tilted to the side, neck at a pinioned at a painful degree.
He spread her legs forcibly, fisting his erection in his hand and shoved into her with one powerful thrust, seating himself deeply within her warm sheath. She exhaled a strangled groan at the fullness of him, amplified even more by her position and the sharp incline at which he immediately began to thrust. He plunged into her relentlessly, taking long, fast, deep strokes that had her panting against the sheets, her breath puffing out in gasps as he used her to fulfill his own vicious need.
She felt him stiffen inside her and she was sure he was close. She clenched her muscles, her delicate walls ripping around him to encourage his release. Abruptly, he pulled out of her and her world spun. With dizzying speed, she found herself facing him again. He spread her thighs wider and plunged into her again. Two strokes in, his hand shot out to wrap around her throat. Clarice’s eyes bulged in shock as his grip tightened, nearly cutting off her air supply. Desperately, she sucked in trickles of oxygen as he plunged relentlessly into her core. His face was madness, his hair drenched with sweat, his eyes gone dark and vacant. He squeezed her throat tighter as he climbed the ledge of his climax until she could no longer breathe at all. Her hands flew to her neck, clawing desperately at his hand. Tiny black dots appeared on the periphery of her vision as the world darkened around her.
Her body bucked against his involuntarily as her sight dimmed, faded and fuzzy. Hannibal fucked her into the bed with his hand choking off the last of her air; he made a savage sound as he orgasmed inside her.
He collapsed on top of her, his grip slack at the base of her neck. Clarice gasped for air beneath him; the weight of his body crushing her, combined with the lack of oxygen, left her dizzy and lightheaded.
Tears were streaming down her face and she was sobbing beneath him when he finally roused himself to look at her. His eyes were glassy and unfocused; it was almost as if he didn’t really see her, or couldn’t comprehend why she was there. She had no illusions of aftercare from him when he was in that state. Her chest heaved with trembling shudders as she fought the constricting phantom grip of fear that she could still feel encircling her throat. He didn’t move to comfort her as she wept out all the grief and suffering she felt, and she didn’t expect him to. She was bewildered by the uncharacteristic tenderness when Hannibal drew her into his arms as he rolled onto his side, burying his face in the back of her neck.
Clarice curved her body into his, as she drew her thoughts around her like a shroud, the occasional shivering gasp sneaking through as her breathing returned to normal. Her need to please him was something she didn’t understand. Loving him was confusing and terrifying, elating and impassioned. He made her feel things that she didn’t even know she was capable of. And she had never questioned it; questioned how right he felt to her. It felt…...inexplicable to her; she couldn’t fathom attempting to define or quantify the depths of this mysterious thing between them. She buried her mind in the the puzzle of their impossible life together. She gradually became aware of Hannibal’s steady heartbeat against her back. The last of her tears slowly subsided as she was lulled by his deep, even breathing. She eventually relaxed into the tremulous veil of sleep, her thoughts quieting into calmness as his seed trickled unhurriedly down her thighs.
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