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Starling woke up feeling strong arms wrapped around her chest and for a split second her heart skipped a beat. Dread almost made her stomach turn. Her phone rang off the hook. Hannibal, who had snuggled up close to her, moved a little and stroked her arm reassuringly. He seemed to have felt her breath catch. Carefully she released herself from his embrace, threw back the covers and straightened up. The fact that she was stark naked didn't bother her. The man she had given herself to completely yesterday knew and admired every millimetre of her body anyway.
"I have to take this," she said, grabbed the phone and disappeared into the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror and immediately felt transported back to the previous day. Even now, she could feel his lips and the imprints of his teeth, his feverish kisses and the untamed passion in his eyes tracing all over her skin. His lust had burned into her like a brand of fire, scorching her to the core.
"Starling, this is Crawford. Can you hear me?"
When the voice on the other end of the line rang out, Starling almost dropped the phone. She cleared her throat, trying with difficulty to swallow the lump stuck in there. It felt wrong to be standing undressed in a bathroom on the phone to her former superior, who, according to rumours, had had his eye on her at the time. With her hand trembling, she wrapped a towel around herself.
“Good morning”, she breathed out, risking an eye outside the door and meeting Hannibal’s attentive glance. He was still laying in bed watching her.
“Are you alright, Starling? I’m asking because I’m afraid you’re not. Is he still there? Does he hold you captive?” Crawford said in a rush, his voice shaking. He was worried. Worried about her. “I know you are mad, Starling. I know. But I still care about you and if you’re in a bad position I would like to know. More precisely, I’d like to help. Is Lecter still in your house? Answer me now, Starling.”
She took a deep breath. “What the hell are you talking about? I have not seen Lecter in years. He didn’t come after me months after his escape. Why would he change his mind now?”
“Please, for your own good, don’t fall for his tricks. He loves to play with your mind, Starling. I know he’s with you. Someone told me.”
“Ever considered that mysterious ‘someone’ is trying to drag my name through the mud once again? Let me guess, it’s Krendler who spread rumours about me, isn’t it? Krendler who showed up at my doorstep yesterday to harass me.”
Silence cut her like a knife. Immediately she knew that she had hit a nerve. Good.
“Krendler did what?” Crawford asked, bewildered. “Look, all I want is to help you. Krendler is not my friend either, but what he told me yesterday sounded conclusive. It’s Lecter after all.”
“Clarice, who’s calling you?”, Hannibal murmured, his brow furrowed. She put her index finger to her lips to tell him to shut up. So far, her performance was pretty much credible, and she couldn't let him ruin that with a fatal mistake.
“Why would you protect him, Starling? This isn’t you. Whatever he promised to you is a cold-blooded lie. Don't give him the pleasure of becoming his next victim. That is exactly what he wants to achieve”, Jack Crawford tried to appeal urgently to her mind. With his next words, his voice became softer, almost affectionate. He chose his words wisely. “I can’t let that happen. You know I just can’t.”
Then the connection was cancelled. Starling knew what that meant. Crawford would call in a few people from the FBI and make his way to her as quickly as possible.
“Old Jacky-Boy, isn’t it?”, Hannibal guessed with a smirk. “He found out about me.”
“He’s convinced you’re with me. Someone told him, most definitely it was Krendler personally.” She dropped the towel and put on her underwear, her hands wildly trembling. Arousing commotion was the last thing she intended to do after being kicked out from the Bureau and now those people who despised her almost as much as she despised them were after her. Apparently, Starling was doomed to attract thunderstorms. She sighed deeply.
“Get dressed”, she said, “We’ve got to figure something out before they arrive here finding us together.”
“I should have eaten this fucker before he got us into trouble.” Lecter pulled on his shirt and trousers. She expected to find a hint of sarcasm on his features but all she saw was deadly seriousness.
“Do you regret what happened yesterday? Now that you have to face what comes along with being with me. My feisty Clarice…Do you wish it never happened?”
“We’re in a hurry, Hannibal. Our time’s limited. Can we skip this conversation for later?” Starling gave him a quick glance to make sure he wasn’t misinterpreting her words. He barely showed a reaction. She rummaged a cap from the chest of drawers, a long scarf and a pair of sunglasses and handed the camouflage clothing over to him. When they left the house, she had to make sure he couldn't be recognised. A few accessories should suffice for the short walk to her car. All she did was pull the hood of her oversized jumper down over her face.
She energetically grabbed his hand, interlaced her fingers and snatched the car keys. “Let’s get out of here.”
Hannibal gave her a sorrowful smile. “This could be your moment to shine, Clarice. If you handed me in, would they have you back, the FBI, you think? You could tell them you were in my power. You had no choice but submit to me. But what if I actually turned myself in to you?”
“As an act of courtesy, you mean?”
“An act of love.” He didn’t blink. “Love is a powerful thing. A special woman once told me.”
Starling grabbed for the door handle, not wasting a second of their life time. “And thus I will not let them catch us, got me? I’ve made a decision. I chose danger.”
With his hand in hers, she hurried down the stairs of her porch, opened the driver’s door of her Mustang and started the roaring engine of the car within the blink of an eye. At that moment, she saw a whole patrol of police cars approaching in her rear-view mirror. Hannibal leaned back in his seat, eyes closed, a sharp breath followed by one another. She pressed down on the accelerator and pulled to the right, directly in front of a small lorry that had to swerve not to crash into her vehicle. She heard him honking. A light on the dashboard caught her attention. The petrol tank was half empty.
"That too," she groaned and shifted into the next higher gear with a jerk. Hannibal put his hand reassuringly on her lap, his eyes focused on the road. They turned onto a motorway. Another glance into the side view mirrors to check on her chasers. Starling swallowed. They were right behind her.
“What do you want me to do, Hannibal?”, she whispered with a dry throat. Her pulse was racing. It didn't matter which direction they headed in, how long the gas continued to drive the car, they were already caught in the trap.
“I want you to choose happiness, Clarice. Whatever it takes for you to embrace it, I shall let it happen.”
“I don’t leave you behind, if that is what you are suggesting”, she spit out harshly.
“What makes you happy, Clarice?” Hannibal refused to look at her but steered his gaze outside the front windscreen in order to catch a favourable exit for them to submerge in a busy town.
“I am in the process of finding out.”
“If you handed me in, you think you will be haunted by sleepless nights again?” Hannibal took off the sun glasses and looked out of the window, the first rays of the dawning sun mirroring in his pupils. “Our love is a tragedy, Clarice, a minefield so to speak. How long can you bear it before you perish?”
“Please, don’t”, she gasped, trying harder to focus on the street. The police cars were flanking her right and left. She overtook a caravan that had slowed her down and accelerated the car again. Hannibal was confusing her. Hadn't it been him who had almost begged her to flee with him? So why did he suddenly tell her that she would be better off if she handed him over to the FBI?
“Watch out, Clarice”, he said calmly as a van pulled into her lane without paying attention to her. She already stood on the breaks, but it was too late. Uncontrolled, the Mustang collided with the transporter and both vehicles hit the skids. Shards of glass hurled towards them, the wind whipped them in the face and the car began to spin. Hannibal grabbed reflexively for the steering wheel when she did let go of it, but he couldn’t prevent the car from crashing into the guard rail. Starling smelled the metallic taste of blood on her lips, then she was covered in blackness.
Hours later, Starling was wearing a mask that provided her with oxygen and was supplied with fluids via an infusion. Monitors were lit up next to her, documenting her heart rate, blood pressure and pulse rate. The room was bare, a bouquet of flowers with white irises stood on the table opposite her bed. She had been taken to hospital.
To her right stood a doctor, maybe fortyish, filling out some form pinned to a clipboard. Her name badge read Dr Ilsa Jenkins.
"She's awake," she said in an unmistakable smoker's voice, leaning slightly over Starling who felt wretched and incapable to move.
"How are you feeling, Ms. Starling?" Dr Jenkins forced an encouraging smile, revealing gaps in her teeth and a crooked jaw. Furthermore, Starling noticed that she had two different eye colors which was a very rare thing. "You've endured a mild concussion, but under the circumstances, you're lucky not to have broken a single bone in your body. You've only suffered a few cuts and bruises, which we'll be monitoring over the next few days. Our nurses will keep an eye on you. If you need anything, press the bell at your bedside. Supper’s at five.”
Starling was unable to answer. In trance, she touched the plaster with the cannula on her forearm. The doctor left her to herself in this insanely bleak room.
All at once, she heard footsteps approaching her and a few moments later, none less than Crawford walked in. At a certain distance from her bed, he paused and examined her closely, as if he was really noticing her for the first time. Goddamn, she felt not only uncomfortable but also terrible being seen by him like this. She was a wreck, a pale version of her former self. Awkwardly, she tried to remove the oxygen mask. Only after two failed attempts did she succeed with trembling hands.
“Oh Starling”, he said shaking his head in disbelieve, “how did you end up here?”
“Where is he?”, Starling croaked.
“Funny, I wanted to ask you the same thing.” Crawford closed the gap between them with one large step towards her and leaned on the railing of the hospital bed, hands folded together. He still wore the ring of his deceased wife Bella, may god rest her soul. “When our emergency services arrived at the scene of the accident, there was already no trace of him. A few miles further on, a dazed woman was found who told us that a madman had stolen her car. It sounds suspiciously like Lecter. He didn’t mention a destination by any chance, did he?"
Starling remained silent, trying to put the lost pieces together to figure out what Hannibal was up to. There had to be a plausible reason why he had left her behind and fled alone. If he had managed to escape, it meant that he had not been injured in the collision with the crash barrier.
“If you know anything, Starling, even the smallest detail, you'd do better to let me know. Can't you see you've lost? You were nothing but a means to an end. He saved his own ass.” Crawford’s eyes flashed with anger. He straightened up again and took a deep breath, as if he had to control himself to restrain his temper instead of directing it at her. His jaw tightened. “All he feels is wrath and hatred. He isn’t capable of love.”
Starling stared at the ceiling. Stared. And stared. She knew that Crawford's protective instincts for her stemmed from more than paternal affection or a sense of duty to sharpen her view of life with all its sunny and shady sides. It’s not all roses, who could tell better than her. But with all due respect, Crawford only knew his people superficially. He didn't know who he was dealing with at Starling. He didn't even begin to know.
“I would like a moment to myself”, she insisted. Crawford's eyes travelled over her body, taking in all her wounds and bruises. He stroked his clean-shaven chin, then he headed outside with a sigh, abandoning the idea of discussing with her.
It felt like the span of hours but was only a few minutes later when the last person she wanted here appeared in her room coming closer than ever. Of course, Krendler had caught up on the latest news about her and had to disrespect her order to stay the hell away from her.
“I gotta admit, I’m somewhat impressed, Starling”, he winked maliciously, “I knew you were one in a billion, but a monster fucker? The extraordinary, infamous agent hooks up with one of the most wanted serial killers in the world. That’s crazy shit. Guess what? You’re going to be the new star of the Tatler as your name will shine at the headline of various newspapers. Opposites attract would be a nice appetizer, don’t you think? Or maybe you both are not so different after all...?”
“You have no idea...”, she began coughing, but he stubbornly cut her off, a corner of his cynical mouth lifted. A challenging look stole into his widely open amber eyes.
“Of what? I'm dying to find out all your dirty secrets. Between you and me, I always took him as a gay rat. But I would never have dreamed that he could have the hots for women half his age. Spill the tea, what was it like being fucked by him? Did he manage to satisfy you?” His lips set in a hard line. “It is pointless to try to deny it, little Starling. I watched you make out. It was entertaining in a way. In hindsight, you must have regretted refusing the condoms, right? But an old guy like him reaches the limits of what's possible at some point anyway.”
Krendler’s hand found its way to her knee. He began to stroke her, first on the same spot, then his hand slid up the inside of her thigh. Starling could no longer breathe. Her body trembled, paralyzed with fear and her throat grew ever tighter and tighter. She felt numb.
“He touched you right there”, Krendler cooed, his gaze eyes fixed on hers. “And then he took you with his hand.”
With that, he slipped his fingers under her patient gown past the hem of her panties.
“Doesn't it make you wet when you think about how he buried himself inside you, Starling?”
Starling whimpered. All she wanted to do was to kick, to scream, to do something, but her muscles were limp and her body would not obey her. A salty tear ran down her cheek.
“I bet I could make you come for me faster”, he breathed out with a devilish grin, lust sparkling in his dark eyes. Driven by pure greed, his fingers paced her brutally. The vile bliss mirrored on his face was maniac.
“What the actual...What is going on here?” Within a few seconds, Crawford appeared in the doorframe again, glimpsing from Krendler’s hand to Starling’s face and back and he seemed to have understood the subject right away. He roughly pushed Krendler aside. “Don't you ever dare touch her again!”
Starling’s blood was boiling. Her body shook in fear.
“Come on”, Krendler hissed scornfully, adjusting the collar of his Jacket. His nostrils flared. “This slut literally had a sociopath between her legs. She mustn’t have high standards when it comes to who gets to have her.”
“It’s none of your business whom she meets with in her private life. Make sure you get out of here right now before I get carried away!”
Krendler’s face contorted into a grimace with anger, but he did not offer any resistance. As soon as he had disappeared out of the door, Crawford turned to her with a serious expression.
"Did he hurt you?"
Without saying a word, Starling shook her head, even though it wasn't true. Deep inside her, this wanker had broken something that no one could ever repair. She didn't want to see anyone but Hannibal, who whispered soothing words to her and was able to ground her in her worst state of fear.
"If there's anything I can do for you, let me know." Crawford gave her a curt nod, then seemed to realise that all she needed him to do was leave her alone. Without making any noise, he closed the door behind him. Starling shut her eyes close, still tasting salty tears on her trembling lips. Memories came flooding back to her like a bullet fire. The crash barrier that was hurtling inexorably towards her. The shards of glass that dug deep into her skin. A high-pitched scream that she couldn't recognise. Along with the hard collision, Hannibal's face was the last thing she saw before the world was plunged into all-consuming darkness. And yet, inexplicably, she was unable to remember his features.
Did he talk about that very subject in the car? He would leave her behind so that she had what he called a ‘future’? But what future awaited her now that the only person in the FBI who had always believed in her was seeing her with entirely different eyes? From one day to the next, she had lost her job at the bureau and instead the man she owed her situation to was making career leaps and was the new face in the media. If only the people – and especially his wife – truly knew who he was deep down, he would disappear into thin air in no time. Assuming that Hannibal would be after him for what he had done to Starling, it wasn’t even far-fetched that Krendler would be gone without a trace one day. Certainly, she didn’t approve her enemy being eaten, but after what happened today, she wouldn’t mourn him either. Since Hannibal was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, she couldn’t predict what he was up to. Making sure that she had a future ahead of her inevitably involved him resuming his old habits. And what was the result of all this? The FBI would eventually hire her again to use her as bait for him. They would be played off against each other until he was safely back in custody and Dr Chilton could feast on tormenting him with gospel program again. If the price she had to pay for her future was to be used as some sort of human trap, she wasn’t willing to do it. Hannibal himself had opened her eyes and made her realise that she was destined for more. The man everyone entitled “the monster” had been the one to heal her in a way no one else could’ve managed when she was suffocating from her childhood memories.
She rolled onto her side and drew her legs up to her upper body for protection. Then she let her gaze wander thoughtlessly. She knew that she would not fall asleep without being haunted by the same dream as then. And as for the next morning, she would wake up drenched in cold sweat and wouldn't be able to get the screams out of her head. In a way, she felt responsible for Hannibal. In a way, he was like that lamb she tried so desperately to rescue as a ten-years old and now that she hadn’t the faintest idea where he was hiding, the burden caught up with her again. The carousel of thoughts that she couldn't escape gave her a hell of a headache.
As night fell, pale moonlight shone through the curtain of her window and bathed the room in a silvery glow. Filled with emptiness, her gaze fixed on the starless night sky. Her eyelids gradually became heavy, but she was unable to give in to fatigue. As soon as her eyes closed, she saw the terrible images of the accident before her and was shaken awake by them.
“My brave girl”, a familiar voice purred next to her ear almost scaring her to death. She hadn’t noticed someone approaching her. Shivering, she drew in a sharp breath. As she turned on her back, her eyes met with Hannibal’s. Their hands intertwined so desperately that for a split second all the scalding pain was forgotten. There was a deep cut across his left eye, but otherwise he appeared to be unharmed at first glance.
When she asked how he had managed to get in, he replied that he had sent the night shift into a short sleep. She raised a brow questioningly, whereupon he reassured her that every single nurse was unharmed. He had merely used an acid that induced unconsciousness for a few minutes.
“I’m sorry you believed you could fix me, Clarice”, he buzzed in a smoky voice, his hand moved up her chin so that they were looking directly at each other. “Some animals can’t be tamed.”
“You don’t need to be fixed”, she responded, giving him a wistful smile. Hearing him say such a thing nearly broke her heart into a thousand pieces. “People just need to start seeing you for the person you really are deep down. I was lost until I found myself in you.”
"That's the crux of the matter. Most people only see the surfaces and are content to judge people by them. When you came to me in the dungeon to discuss the 'Buffalo Bill' case, you surprised me with your perspicacity. You were the first one who didn't treat me like an animal in a zoo. You didn't feed me crumbs, you fed me a whole meal.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You made me believe in genuineness again.” Tenderly, his fingers traced the curve of her lower lip as if in a trance. A vein popped out in his neck and he swallowed. His metallic, rough voice sent a shiver down her spine as if she had heard it for the first time. “You set me free.”
“The reason why I left without you is simple, love. I had to see our mission through to the end”, he shed a light on his disappearance. “There’s a motel two hours from here where I put us up for three nights under a false identity. We’re just a couple passing through West Virginia.”
“Why did you let them bring me here? You could’ve stitched my wounds”, Starling said motionlessly.
“It bought me some time. Given the precarious situation, I was forced to make a quick decision, Clarice. While they took care of you, I’ve made plans for our future. I can’t move on without you. Forgive me.”
"Where did you leave the bouquet of roses that was supposed to emphasise your apology?” Irony was mixed into Starling's undertone. She knew he wasn’t actually begging for apology, as he did not regret his actions in the faintest. Making sacrifices came along with being a mastermind. Hannibal was already busy disconnecting her from the monitors and staunching the haemorrhage caused by the detachment of the cannula.
“All good things to those who wait.” He put her arms around his neck and reached under the back of her knees to lift her up. Starling made an inarticulate sound as a rasping pain pulsed through her upper body. Hannibal whispered incomprehensible words to her, perhaps even in a foreign language she couldn't understand, and kissed her forehead to calm her. He checked the activity in the corridor, found that everything was quiet, and scurried around the next corner with Starling in his arms. Then he lurked briefly in the shadows, waited to see if there was a sound, then moved on without wasting any time. They took a back exit that was reserved for staff only. Footsteps could be heard in the stairwell, but the person was walking in the same direction as them. He hurried down the stairs at lightning speed, his breath coming fast. But his pulse seemed to be a constant 85.
Carefully, without hitting any part of her body on the edges of the car, Hannibal manoeuvred her into the passenger seat of the stolen Cadillac. It seemed the accident had left both visible and invisible scars on her body. The stuffy air in the car immediately took her back to the collision a few hours ago and she found herself struggling to breathe quietly. Hannibal noticed and didn't start the engine immediately, but stroked her arm to calm her down and give her a feeling of immunity. He was her safe-place. The nemesis she claimed to.
“Try to rest, Clarice. It’s midnight. Get some sleep”, he pleaded her, caressing her cheeks gently with his palms and wrapping her in his coat as if she was some sort of holy being. As they chased through the darkness together, space and time increasingly blurred into a viscous substance. Although Hannibal was supposed to be devoting his undivided attention to the road, Starling felt that he kept glaring over at her repeatedly. At some point, tiredness caught up with her and she probably owned it to none less than Hannibal that she was finally able to fall asleep. For the first time in ages, the lambs didn't dare to haunt her with their agonising screams. He was the wolf that chased the sheep away. As soon as he bared his teeth, they retreated into the barn.
When Hannibal and Starling entered their hotel room shortly before dawn the next day, he carefully lowered her to the floor. Her legs were still wobbly as hell, but with the help of his strong arm around her waist, she managed to keep her balance.
“I’m all right”, she insisted when he gave her a concerned sideways-glance.
“You think you have to pretend to be strong in front of me, don’t you? Life has taught you the hard way that you have to swallow your pain not to let the past catch up with you. But you don't have to, dear. You can be weak with me. I would never use a sign of weakness against you but help you process it, Clarice. You and I, together we can be so much. We can be unstoppable.” With that, he led her to the bathroom. Evidently, he hadn't missed the opportunity to choose a motel with lavish facilities. In addition to a shower with milky, opaque glass, the room was equipped with a bathtub and two washbasins as well as a toilet and mirrors. Overall, the whole suit exuded an unmistakable retro 70s flair which was certainly very much to his taste. He brought his lips close to the sensitive spot behind her ear, tracing her shoulders with his palms from behind.
“Take a bath. Wash away all the memories. It’s about time for a turn.”
He was right. This was their sanctuary and from now, no one could drive them apart ever again. They were meant to be, maybe ever since their first encounter down in the dungeon when he tried to destroy her and she urged to come back to him.
She pulled the patient's shirt over her head and let the panties fall to the floor. Feeling her skin crawl, she was aware he had his eyes fixed on her exposed body. Within one heartbeat, she could hear his breaths going unsteadily.
“What? Did my little striptease leave you speechless?”, she asked provokingly over her shoulder, knowing fully well that she was teasing a particular nerve in him. Grinning devilishly as if he was scheming, he was already pouring water into the bathtub. Steam rose from the hot foam. He checked the water temperature with his hand.
“How hot would you like it, dear?”
“I want to get scalded”, she replied, slowly climbing into the bathtub and covered herself with the foam of the hot bath water. Needless to say, she was well aware that her words were ambiguous. His hand which regulated the heat of the water to perfection explored her clean-shaven leg now.
“Look, I get why you won’t take it as an compliment but I’m tempted”, he murmured, piercing her mind, body and soul, “to devour you whole. All you need to do is beg me and surrender.”
Starlings erect buds were proof enough of the pleasure his words had given her. The fiery longing in his crimson red eyes wakened her desire for his touch all the more. His lips parted slightly.
“Join me”, she demanded grabbing his hand savagely. In sight of what might happen next, she was unrestrained and did not feel a hint of shame about it. “Please.”
After what Krendler had done to her the previous day, she desperately needed Hannibal to erase her memories of the assault she endured. Either he helped her forget about that man-whore once and for all or she had to find another outlet for her built-up rage. Weighing up both option, it seemed more rational and mature not to give in to the urge of harming those who had harmed her. At the end of the day, she was better than that. So she took her lover’s hand and led him to where she wanted him without breaking eye-contact.
“Are you sure you don’t want to get some rest first, Clarice?”
Confessedly, he wasn’t all wrong. Starling felt tired and exhausted to the extent that every single bone in her body ached for sleep. But her blurred mind did not.
“I know at least a hundred other ways to be comforted.”
Amazed even by her own strength, she pulled his head down towards her, and kissed him. She seemed to have won him over to her plans for he unzipped his trousers and got rid of his clothes.
She slid forward a little in the bathtub to make room for him behind her so that he could sit to the back area. Leaning against his firm, hairy chest, she enjoyed the warmth of his body against hers.
“Know what would be the cherry on top? A Secco.”
“No alcohol for you now, Clarice. It’s not compatible with the medication you were given in the hospital.”
“For god’s sake, who cares?” she sighed, rolling her pale blue eyes.
“I do”, he countered with his metallic voice, probing her thighs with his palms. Her breath hitched when his thumb began to massage her gently by drawing circles on her skin, coming ever closer to the cascading spot between her legs. With her eyes closed in pleasure, she waited for his fingers to bury inside her, but he did not. He was just teasing her. Immediately, she perceived his swollen shaft pressing against her butt and tormented him writhing her hips.
“Besides, I can think of more delicate things to taste”, he breathed out heavily. “Things such as you.”
“Stop talking dirty to me if you don’t want to lay me down. It turns me on”, was all she hissed in return. His amused laughter cut her to the heart. It was the most beautiful, melodious sound she ever happened to hear. With that the realization that never in her life she had heard him laugh hit her like a thunderstroke. More than anything else she wanted to capture those frequencies on a tape recorder so that she could replay this warm, sincere laughter over and over again.
“Oh, little lion.”
With his fingertips, he explored her stomach, taking his time and playing with the foam until he finally let his hand travel higher to her breasts. Gasping, Starling let her head sink against his shoulders and her muscles tightened. A coiling flame rioted in her abdomen.
“Tell me how much you want me to please you”, he growled and froze for a brief moment, “and I might consider do as you wish.”
“Watch me begging you excites you, doesn’t it?” She arched her back to incite his hands to move. Her cheeks were burning. While it brought him the uttermost satisfaction to see her craving for his touch, she felt like a stupid teenager who was overwhelmed by her hormones. Deep down, she was afraid, he enjoyed fooling with her and be that as it may, she found a liking in his games, too. Sometimes he was a pain in the ass, yet if he made an effort, he could be a fairly good gentleman. “Alright, hear me out. You wanted me to relax and switch off my head. Fine, then do your bit.”
“Smart girl”, he grinned, “Never would you let yourself down to beg me. No, rather instruct me what to do. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.”
With that being said, his fingers began to pace her, sliding in and out her swollen flesh in a merciless rhythm. With his other hand, he kneaded her breasts as he left marks on her skin with his teeth. Starling bit her lower lip so hard she tasted blood. Aligning herself to the tempo he had set, she pushed against his thrusts, her hips jolting. She practically rode his hand as he gently stroked her inner walls. Inch by inch, he penetrated her deeper and deeper. She was ready for him to take another finger to fuck her harder. A wave of passion crashed over her and made her cry out his name. The water sloshed over the edges of the bathtub.
“Give in to me, Clarice”, he moaned hoarsely. “Like that, my god, yes. Like that.”
He made her feel like a literal goddess, like the most precious thing he’d ever been given. If he were a believer, she’d bet he really just thanked god for having her.
The way he gasped her name had always struck a very special chord in her and softened her. But to hear him moan it made Starling lose her composure just the more.
“You’re holding back, dear. Don't. I want all of you. I want you wet, I want you predatory. I want you shameless. Just be your true self.”
He devotedly continued to tease her pulsating center. Her hands desperately seeked for something to hold on to for the climax she desired with every fiber of her body was so close. In ecstasy, she threw her head back and let out a high-pitched hum. One last time, his thumb dipped into her to the ignited spot between her legs, then her whole body tensed and she was consumed with burning heat, having entered the doorstep to hell.
His hand remained inside her for a few more seconds, then he brought it to his mouth and parted his lips to lick his fingertips sensually.
"Most of it has been washed away by the water," Hannibal admitted groaning, "but the light honey note is unmistakable."
At the beginning of her escapades, Starling had been ashamed when he had tasted her. For some reason, she was not anymore. It took her some time to process the excess of soothing sensations that had just washed over her.
“Are you feeling comforted now, Agent?” His sordid whisper sent a shiver down her spine. All she could do was nodding.
“You’ve been up all night to make plans for our future and yet, here I am, thinking solely about my own pleasure. Is that what they call a slut?”, Starling sighed, suddenly feeling ashamed of her behaviour. A flush crept up her face.
“I call it a ‘treat’, love. It’s one of my first principles of life not to care about what opinion others hold upon me. In fact, I have a soft spot for women that take what they want.”
“So you are telling me that you don’t resent me for I didn’t return the favour? Like, in the sense of not at all?” Starling raised an eyebrow in disbelief. After all, she had clearly felt that he had become hard and swollen. His chin brushed her cheek delicately. The first stubble along his jawline was slowly growing back.
“If I were upset, I think you would know”, he negated calmly.
“You were never towards me”, she held against it and added, “not that I’m complaining.”
“If you feel like meeting halfway to ease your conscience, I would like to go to bed now. Let's catch up on some sleep. I am somewhat tired by now, indeed.”
Starling had not the slightest objection to this. The water had become cold anyway. They left wet tracks on the laminate floor as they scurried over to the bedroom. Both of them refrained from putting their clothes on, instead they moved close together under the blanket to keep each other warm. Hannibal pulled Starling into a tight and yet gentle embrace. She was lying directly under his chest so that she could hear his heartbeat. With her eyes shut close, she breathed a tender kiss on his forearm that was slung around her chest.
“Sweet dreams, Clarice”, he muttered, his voice rough with fatigue.
“Good night, Hannibal.” She hesitated for the fraction of a second, instantly hoping he had not fallen asleep already. There was still something she had to tell him, something that had been on her mind for far too long. She had just never found the courage to say the words. “I love you.”