This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction plus English isn't my native language, so please be gentle. Reviews are much appreciated. I own nothing except for the story. The characters of Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling belong to the creative genius-Thomas Harris.
When his mouth closed around her nipple, her mind exploded with sensation. Her fingers interlocked at the back of his head and she pressed his face more firmly to her breast. With his left hand, Dr. Lecter freed her other breast through the neckline of her dress and started kneading it.
''Oh God. Yes.''
Her head fell back and her eyes rolled upwards. He came face-to-face with her and kissed her hard. Repressed desire was finally given a free reign. When his tongue demanded entry into her mouth, she willingly yielded. His tongue was everywhere-swiping across her lips, teeth and palate, colliding with her tongue while his hands continued to fondle her boobs. She moaned into his mouth when he pinched the nipple of her left breast, the pain giving an edge to the pleasure coursing through her body. Leaving her mouth, he suckled at the nipple, nipping at it then running his tongue over the areola. His right hand was working at her other breast the whole time.
He nuzzled the inside curves of her full breasts and planted hot wet kisses in the valley, tasting the beads of sweat that had formed there. Clarice tried to reach under his shirt through the collar but couldn't. It was too tight. She caressed his back through his shirt but it wasn't good enough.
Dr. Lecter looked up, clearly amused by the frustration evident in her voice. She could see the fire dancing in his maroon eyes. Superstitious people, on looking into his eyes, believed that he was the devil reincarnated. Clarice wasn't superstitious. She had always had an eerie attraction toward his eyes. She had been drawn to them the first time she saw him in his cell, so long ago. He stood up, graceful even in his passion, taking her with him. Slowly, very slowly he started unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes never leaving hers. Already frustrated by the lack of contact with his skin, she slapped his hands away and tore open his shirt, exposing his well-muscled chest and flat belly. His left nipple was scarred. She kissed him there softly, then trailed open mouthed kisses on his chest, down his abdomen. On her knees now, she opened the button of his black trouser and slowly zipped it down. Looking up into those mesmerizing eyes, full of lust and brimming with passion, she pulled down his pants and boxers, his erection springing free- a sign of his lack of self-control, and Clarice reveled in it. The fact that she had made him so hard sent a jolt of electricity through her spine. Always looking into his eyes, she coiled her fingers around his penis and started stroking it-up and down, up and down.
Beads of pre-cum appeared on the glans from the stimulation, his scent intoxicating to her.
''I want to taste you, '' she suddenly said and without waiting for his reply, flicked her tongue on his crown, making him shiver. His hands fell on her head, resting there, never guiding her. When she closed her lips on his glans and sucked, it took everything in him to be still and not thrust into her mouth violently.
Encouraged by the reaction her movements elicited, she became more vigorous. When he couldn't take the torture anymore, he pulled at her hair, freeing him from that delicious mouth and bent down, kissing her- tasting the amalgam of her saliva and his essence.
He quickly freed himself from the remaining clothes, then picked her up over his shoulder and almost ran into the dining room. The dining table, where they had devoured Paul Krendler's brain not more than two hours ago, seemed appropriate- the height perfect. He stood Clarice near the edge and pushed down her dress, the neckline ripped due to exertion. Taking a step back, he admired her naked form. His gaze on her face, moving over her breasts with swollen coral tips, over her taut belly, over a thin covering of dark pubic hair and finally over her long shaved legs- she must have shaved them today before the dinner. Looking deep into her eyes, he whispered, ''You rival Venus, Clarice.'' The compliment made her blush.
Lifting her, he sat her on the edge of the table. Opening her legs, he bent down and gazed at the soft pink flesh there, waiting to be devoured. Clarice's breath was slow and heavy with anticipation. When he kissed her inner thigh, she reclined back till her head hit the table. He bit the flesh of her other thigh, enjoying her moans. Then he turned his attention to her sex, kissing softly, never lingering, never using his tongue, driving her mad. Not getting what she wanted, she inclined her head to meet his eyes and whimpered, ''Hannibal…..please.''
He decided to put her out of her misery. He swiped his tongue on her clit, tasting her.
Out of reflex, her thighs closed around his head. He pushed them apart and continued licking her juices-sweet and salty on his tongue. He spread her folds with two fingers and pushed his tongue into her vagina, fucking her with his tongue. With his other hand, he squeezed her left breast. Her moans were music to his ears. He knew she was near. Instead of pushing her off the edge, he withdrew his tongue, smirking when she groaned. She glared at him. ''Hey, no teasing.''
Without breaking eye contact, he pushed one finger inside her. The anger on her face vanished, replaced by an expression of pure ecstasy. Her breathing grew ragged and her eyelids drooped as he started finger-fucking her. When he inserted a second finger, all conscious thoughts escaped her mind.
The rhythm he set was fast, his fingers moving in and out of her wet pussy. She was close once again and this time, Hannibal had every intention to push her off the edge. He nibbled at her swollen bud providing the final push and she came so hard that her whole body shook, his name echoing off the walls of the big house.
When she finally came back to her senses, Hannibal got up and kissed her. She could taste herself on his mouth. ''Now Hannibal. Now please. I need to feel you inside me.''
He penetrated her slowly, stretching her to her limits. She was so wet...wet for him, tight and hot. It felt so good that he had to pause and divert his attention elsewhere- focusing on the painting on the wall. The pause provided her ample time to adjust herself around him. He was too big for her but the pleasure overrode the pain. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he started a slow, sensual rhythm. She knew he was holding back, fearing that he might hurt her. Clarice didn't like this restraint on his passion. She wanted him completely unbridled.
''Harder Hannibal. Don't hold back. Fuck me hard.''
Her words were all the encouragement he needed. His strokes increased exponentially in length and speed. He pulled out completely and pushed all the way in at ferocious speed. She cried in pleasure everytime his length hit her cervix. He looked at her. She was a sight to behold- leaning back, with her elbows supporting the slope, breasts swaying with the movements, face contorted with pain and pleasure, eyes closed.
''Open your eyes, Clarice,'' he said, panting. She did and watched him pounding into her, again and again, like a savage beast.
When he pinched her nipples, she came hard, her walls tightening around him. He pushed to the hilt one final time, emptying himself inside her.
When he pulled out of her, his seed flowed out of her pussy. He sagged on the table beside her, his arm around her waist. It took a few moments for him to regain his composure and when he looked at her, she was smiling.
''I will never forget the moment I saw Hannibal Lecter lose control,'' she said in a hoarse voice.
Smiling back, he kissed her softly. ''Did I hurt you?''
He got up and lifting her in bridal fashion, carried her to his room. Clarice Starling saw Hannibal Lecter lose control many, many times that night.