bonsoir

He can round to the front of your body, sink to his knees and pull down his boxers from your hips until they pool at your ankles and brush against his knees that are stationed in worship there. He can lick at you hungrily, eyes skirted by his sleep-mussed bangs, as his tongue parts your folds and his lips seal around your clit and suck hungrily, with need, and he can allow himself to drunkenly stare up at his salvation. Like if he doesn’t have a strong drink of you this morning then he’ll die by noon or, worse, his mind will fall into a torturous crevice where his pure empathy will weep as the shadowed monsters bring a smile to his face. The heady scent of you can fill his head like a drug, warm and fleshy and sweet, but he’s there, too. Sweat, musk, come, all unmistakably male, all unmistakably him. The storm in his bedsheets that’s followed him since he became a man finally isn’t alone. He can grip the backs of your thighs to make sure you don’t squirm away as he takes your cunt for a ride on his tongue. 

He gives you the pairs of boxers that are tattered; he has to save the intact ones for work. Shot elastic in the waistband and fraying hems to blown out crotches and asses — What can he say? Bending over and squatting down a million times at work to look under cars, to clear fences and fallen trees with his muscular ass was bound to wear the fabric thin. You don’t mind, they’re the softest and the most comfortable to sleep in, anyway; the ones that have shared the most life with him.

In the mornings, Will will stare at the curve of your ass through the tear as you sleep on your stomach and he’ll squeeze along the length of his cock that woke up hard. He’ll force down a groan when he sits up, seeing the hair peppering your mound and where your skin transitions to something softer, more vulnerable. Raw slick against plush velvet. Where the threads that once held him together have found a new purpose. 

He’ll roll you over by your hips, onto your back. He’ll lean over you, kissing you just enough to wake you up. His hands will be busy fighting with his own pajama pants, tearing them down and kicking them away to the edge of the bed, before he’ll descend down your body.

He’ll splay his hands on your inner thighs and spread you open, your wet already glistening for him — as it always is. He’ll angle his mouth just right and drip his spit onto your pussy, watching it run down through your folds. He’ll eat your cunt, his chin will roll through your cheeks in time with his tongue along your entrance and rub your tender skin raw with his stubble. As you seep into his mouth, your heart hammering harder against your lungs with each second closer to your climax, you’ll finally break when you hear his grateful moans, feel them vibrate against your opening — and when you arch your back and tug on his hair to keep him there, right there, you’ll tumble straight into another orgasm at the sight of Will humping the mattress. 

He’ll get up on his knees, bunch his boxers in his hands, pull them taut at your hips and use them as handles to spear your pussy over and over onto his cock. He’ll be quick to get rough, always is because it just feels so fucking good to be with you. He wrestles with enough tumultuous emotions; he feels safe giving into this one, knows that he’ll only get closer to himself the deeper into your maze he goes. He'll rake in breaths that scrape against his voice box, that make his chest tremble as sweat bleeds through his shirt and outlines the quivering muscles beneath. 

He’ll roll his head back, eyes fluttering closed before he lolls forward and his hair, fringed with sweat, falls into his eyes. His gaze will be tired, half asleep and the other half drunk on pleasure, but it’ll find yours with a near glower. It’ll make you feel like you shouldn’t be whimpering, like he’ll punish you for it, but you can’t keep quiet even if you wanted to. Will pulls the most ragged, desperate sounds from you, things you’ve never heard out of your mouth before and that sound foreign to your own ears. It’s raw, sounds that should only come out when you’re on the brink of your life fighting pain — but Will is searing; your sounds are beyond fire, only smoke left in thin whistles, but he blows them away with one quick breath. Snuffed. 

His hips will not have let up since he sheathed himself inside, pounding away at your plushness and making your cunt clench around him — you're so close. One of his hands will come to paw at your breast, splay across the soft mound before dragging his fingers inward. His shorn nails will prick at your hard nipple, make you gasp, and he’ll adapt; he’ll curl three of his fingers into his palm, holding the pert bud between his thumb and the second knuckle of his forefinger, and pluck at you until you sing for him. 

When you come, he’ll pin your neck to the bed with his hand wrapped around your throat. He won’t squeeze but rather hold you still; he’s not going to let you get away from this, even with your screaming and the pained, pinched look to your sweaty brow and your thighs that can’t make up their mind on how to get him away; do you clam up, or do you kick him away? Either way, he’ll just push his cock deeper inside. You invite him both ways, either squeezing him close or opening yourself up more for him. It feels like one of those wooden snake toys you had when you were a kid; your spine will arch off the bed then the pleasure will trill down your vertebrae like dominoes. It’ll snap into place at your neck, glittering behind your eyes, and your abdomen will convulse with the aftershocks. 

His climax will follow not long after. He’ll pull out, your cunt will emit a wet sound of loss. He won’t have to tug on his cock, it’ll suffer phantom jerks and spurt with come all on its own. It’ll drip onto the boxers he’s laid claim to you, darkening the blue plaid in spots at the waistband. The rest will spill across your belly, dancing with your erratic breaths as you chase to catch it. 

Will will let go of you, reluctantly, to bend down and lick his spend up. He’ll gather one pool of his cum, his tongue brushing through those invisible hairs that cover your body like he’s parting reeds to a warm lake that he’s about to take a naked lap in under the summer sun, both blistering heat and sobering sunshine. You’ll pet through his hair as he swallows the first taste of himself down, his ragged breath telling you how much he likes it. 

He’ll gather more and crawl back up to you. He’ll kiss you first, closed lips in a tender press to yours. You’ll part for him to share, with your tongue resting gently against the curve of your bottom lip. He’ll stamp the tip of his tongue to yours and the salty, musky taste of him will flood your senses. He’ll give a gentle flick of his tongue, spreading his seed along your palette. It’ll be sticky and messy, strings of his come and both your saliva will be suspended in a web, connecting you deeper than when he was inside you. He’ll seal his lips around your tongue, stealing his taste back, before he’ll give his best effort of reaching the back of your throat. He’ll shove his tongue in your mouth, plunging you in ecstasy all over again and chasing the mixture of your tastes up until its final moments before you swallow it down, nestling it for safe keeping in your stomach. 

If they ever split you apart, like the victims in Will’s pictures, you want them to find a part of him everywhere inside you. His come in your stomach, bruises from where the tip of his cock got too greedy in its kisses against your cervix, memories of him etched in the grooves of your brain. Would he like to finger your brain, could only he feel the memories he implanted there? 

You’ll wrap your arms around his neck and he’ll take you with him, sitting in his lap. You could never give him enough kisses, there’s not enough breath you could take in to sustain you for as long as you want to keep your lips on his. 

He’ll knock his forehead against yours, nuzzling there while he looks into your eyes. The sunshine will glitter in gentle rainbows through the curtains, through the raindrops left on the windows from the storm last night, across his face. His blue eyes will look like the surface of water on a bright summer day, like the lake he wanted to dive in to you. 

He’ll be called away too soon. His phone vibrating on the nightstand and receiver crackling to life on his uniform, it’ll all be over too soon.

It’s hard not to think of the people, the beings in person suits, that he comes across every day and not fear them as obstacles to the little sanctuary you’ve found in each other. But you’ve learned a long time ago to stop worrying about building walls that are susceptible to being climbed by those clever enough. It’s easier to anticipate what your enemies want when they’re knocking at your front door after you’ve let them sit at your dinner table. 

Hannibal had always possessed a peculiar understanding of affection.

For him, affection was observation. Fascination. 

Possession.

And, eventually, pursuit.

It had begun innocently enough.

You enjoyed running.

Not on treadmills or city sidewalks, but through forest trails. The woods offered freedom and silence. A place where the restless energy beneath your skin could finally dissolve into movement.

That was where you first met him.

A man who looked impossibly out of place among the trees.

While you stood catching your breath at a fork in the trail, he had emerged from the trees in a pristine coat.

You remembered staring at him.

“I hunt,” he had told you when you asked what brought him so far into the forest.

You had laughed gently at that.

“I run.” you had answered him.

Something had shifted between the two of you then.

A spark of curiosity that didn’t leave you for a while.

Weeks later he found you again.

Then again.

Until eventually there was dinner.

Then another.

Then countless evenings spent beneath warm lighting and expensive wine, listening to that velvet voice discuss art, philosophy, music.

And somehow, without realizing it, you had wandered willingly into the beautiful trap Hannibal built around himself.

A trap lined with silk.

And tonight, as the moon hung pale above the forest, you found yourself once again playing your role.

His little rabbit.

The forest stretched endlessly in every direction.

Somewhere nearby an owl called.

Then silence.

Then the distant sound of your footsteps.

Hannibal moved carefully through the darkness.

His polished boots barely disturbed the leaves beneath them, he did not rush.

To anyone watching, he might have seemed leisurely.

Yet there was something unmistakably predatory in the way he walked.

The moonlight caught briefly on his face as he tilted his head.

Listening, waiting, carefully.

Then he heard it.

The snap of a twig.

A hurried footfall.

A breath.

A smile tugged gently at the corner of his mouth.

"There you are."

His voice drifted softly between the trees.

"Oh, bunny."

The sound sent a thrill through you.

You were already running before his words fully formed.

The narrow trail vanished beneath your feet as you darted deeper into the woods.

Leaves scattered.

Branches clawed at your sleeves.

The cold night air burned your lungs.

Your heartbeat hammered so loudly you were certain it could be heard from miles away.

Left.

Right.

Forward.

Every direction looked identical.

The forest had become a maze.

You stumbled over an exposed root and barely caught yourself before falling.

A curse escaped your lips.

Keep moving.

Keep moving.

You pushed onward.

Behind you, nothing.

No footsteps.

No voice.

That made uncertainty gnaw at you.

Where was he?

How close had he gotten?

You veered off the trail entirely, pushing through dense patches of bush.

Thin branches snagged your hair.

Leaves tangled in the fabric of your dress.

Your breathing grew ragged.

Finally, spotting a massive oak, you ducked behind it.

Your back pressed against rough bark.

Your hands covered your mouth.

Listen.

Nothing.

Only wind.

Only the frantic pounding of your own heart.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

Maybe you had lost him.

Maybe…

Crunch.

Your eyes snapped open.

A footstep.

Not far away.

Another.

Slow.

Measured.

Coming closer.

Hannibal emerged from the darkness, calmly stepping ahead as moonlight cast a pale shine across him.

A shiver raced down your spine.

You held your breath.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Then his head turned.

Directly toward your hiding place.

The smile that followed was subtle.

Almost affectionate.

“I can hear your heart.” he spoke, voice carrying easily.

“And you’re breathing much too quickly.”

You didn’t wait.

The moment he stepped closer, you burst from behind the tree.

You sprinted.

Branches whipped across your arms.

The forest became a blur of shadows and silver light.

Behind you came a low chuckle.

Warm.

Amused.

Dangerous.

The sound only drove you faster.

You darted between two fallen trees.

For a brief moment you dared glance behind you.

A mistake.

Because Hannibal was closer now.

Much closer.

Despite your best efforts to run, he seemingly kept pace without struggle.

As though he had known exactly where you would go.

As though every turn you made was merely another step in a route he had already mapped out.

Your pulse thundered.

You swerved left.

Then right.

Then doubled back through a patch of dense undergrowth.

Surely that would slow him.

Surely…

A branch snapped somewhere behind you.

Followed by another.

The forest stretched endlessly ahead.

Every attempt you made to lose him only sharpened his focus.

His will to catch his prey.

“Where do you think you’re going, my little rabbit?” he called.

His voice carried easily between the trees.

You didn’t answer.

Your legs burned.

Every step sent fresh aches through your feet as you pushed yourself harder. 

You took a sharp right turn.

Then another.

Certain you were finally putting distance between the two of you.

But moments later you froze.

The massive oak.

You knew that tree.

You had passed it minutes ago.

A chill crawled down your spine.

No.

No, that wasn’t possible.

You spun around and ran again.

Faster.

Desperation pushed you onward until the trees suddenly thinned.

You stumbled through a wall of bushes and emerged into a small clearing bathed in pale moonlight.

The grass shimmered with dew.

Mist hovered low above the ground.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you stopped.

Your chest rose and fell violently.

Your lungs screamed for air.

Sweat clung to your skin despite the cold night.

For several precious seconds, there was nothing.

No footsteps.

No voice.

No sign of him.

Then he emerged from between the trees again.

His coat was immaculate despite the chase.

But his expression mirrored something wild that you held as well.

A faint smile tugged at his lips.

“You’ve led me on quite the chase, little bunny.”

His voice was warm, almost conversational.

“But it appears you’ve finally exhausted yourself.”

He approached slowly.

The wet grass barely stirred beneath his shoes.

Moonlight caught in his eyes as he studied you.

Your tangled hair.

Your flushed cheeks.

The rise and fall of your chest.

The evidence of just how hard you had fought to stay free.

Something about that seemed to please him.

You swallowed another breath and straightened.

“You haven’t caught me yet.” you managed between breaths.

Before he could respond, you lunged sideways.

One final burst of energy.

For a brief second, it almost worked.

Then Hannibal moved.

His hand closed around your arm with startling speed.

Firm.

Certain.

You stumbled as he pulled you back.

As though he had anticipated the attempt from the moment the thought crossed your mind.

A soft chuckle escaped him.

“My little rabbit.”

The words carried equal parts amusement and admiration.

“Still trying.”

You twisted against his hold.

Refusing to surrender.

But your body had reached its limits.

Your legs trembled beneath you.

Your lungs still burned.

Every muscle protested.

But…, you slipped free from his grasp.

You couldn’t tell if he let you or if you managed to.

Victory lasted less than a second as your foot caught in wet grass.

The world tilted.

Then suddenly you were falling.

The damp earth met you hard.

Cold grass flattened beneath you as you landed, leaves clinging to your clothes.

Hannibal laughed, the sound low and genuine.

He stepped forward until his shadow swallowed yours.

Towering above you in the moonlight.

“It seems,” he said softly, “the game is coming to an end.”

You stared up at him for only a moment before scrambling backward.

You planted a hand against the ground and pushed yourself upright.

Every part of your body protested.

One moment you were forcing your exhausted legs forward, determined to disappear into the forest once more.

The next, a strong arm wrapped around your waist.

A startled gasp escaped you as the world tilted.

Wet grass rushed up to meet you again.

The impact knocked the breath from your lungs.

Leaves scattered around you as you landed on the forest floor once more.

You panted, trying to twist away.

Your body refused to cooperate.

Every muscle ached.

Your lungs still burned from the chase.

Yet instinct drove you to struggle anyway.

To keep moving.

To keep running.

Hannibal knelt above you before gently but firmly preventing your escape.

His hands settled on your hips, holding you in place.

“You really do love running.” he mused.

Admiring.

As though your determination fascinated him.

You pushed against him again.

Another futile attempt.

The forest spun slightly around you from exhaustion.

A low chuckle escaped him.

His dark eyes studied you carefully.

Only your breathing filled the silence.

Rapid.

Uneven.

His gaze moved across your face.

Taking everything in.

The dirt smudged along your cheek.

The stubborn determination still shining in your eyes despite your obvious exhaustion.

You swallowed hard, chest rising and falling as you finally met his eyes.

Hannibal’s expression softened slightly as he watched you settle.

A small smile touched his lips.

"Good little bunny."

You breathed heavily under him, staring up with wild eyes.

“Beautiful and exhausted.” he murmured, watching you with a satisfied smile, his gaze roving over your disheveled state.

His hands shifted, still holding you in place.

Thumb tracing slow circles against the soft skin of your hip.

With a last attempt you struggled and squirmed under him but the growing heat between your thighs made it hard to think about running when there was something completely different on your mind now.

He leaned forward, one hand lifting to brush tangled locks of hair from your face. 

His eyes were dark. 

Predatory.

“You're trembling.” he hummed.

“Is it the exhaustion? Or the thrill of the chase?”

You stayed quiet, eyes focusing in on him now as he pinned you down.

His gaze roved over you once more.

The rise and fall of your chest, the flush on your cheeks, the slight catch in your breathing.

“No fight left in you, little rabbit?” he mocked gently, his fingers continuing to trace small circles on your hip. 

You couldn’t help but gently arch into his touch.

He noticed the subtle movement, and a small smirk curved his lips.

“Such a sweet little bunny.”

He shifted slightly, his body pressing closer against yours, trapping you beneath him completely.

“Is that why you’ve gone so quiet? Are you finally surrendering to the inevitable?”

You couldn't help the embarrassment rise hot in your cheeks.

Flushing your skin as you looked away slightly, your nose twitching as you let out a sharp breath.

“Hanni…”

The sound of your nickname on your lips made that smirk deepen.

“Yes, darling?” he replied, his tone teasingly innocent.

“You suddenly seem a bit...flushed.”

You let your head sink back into the high grass, dew wet against your skin as his hand moved under your dress and up your stomach.

A soft whine escaped you, you wriggled and squirmed beneath him, “Hm– please…”

“Please what?” he purred, his tone dripping with mock concern.

“Use your words, little rabbit.”

His hand continued its slow glide up the soft skin of your stomach, his touch leaving a trail of heat.

“Please– take your prey–” you let out.

He knew he had you now, his little prey finally caught.

“So eager all of a sudden, darling?” he teased.

His hand brushed over the swell of your breast, your breath hitching in your throat.

You nodded, eagerly, making it clear that this was what you wanted.

“Such an impatient little rabbit…” he murmured.

“You truly want me to take you right here in this cold forest, don’t you, love?”

You nodded again.

Hannibal sat up gently, giving you a subtle tap.

You sat up, hand gently traveling up his clothed chest.

He responded with a kiss, finally, his hand shifting to the back of your head to pull you closer. 

His other arm snaked around your waist, holding you tight against him.

His tongue slipped past your lips, tangling with yours in a possessive, hungry kiss.

You almost moaned into it, that’s how hot the knot in your stomach already was.

You were almost drunk on the adrenaline and want. 

Slowly he let off you and within moments he was hovering above you, standing at his full height as you cowered meekly in the damp dirt. 

Your eyes traveled up to him, half lidded with want as you already nuzzled your head against his clothed crotch.

He grunted softly at the sensation, his hand moving to thread through your hair.

“Eager little bunny.” he mused, his voice thick with arousal.

You made quick work of his button, unzipping the fly of his pants before your eyes looked up asking for permission as you still nuzzled your head against his leg.

His gaze darkened, his fingers tightening in your hair as he looked down at you with a predatory expression.

“Go ahead, darling.”

He watched you carefully as your fingers worked, his body tense with anticipation.

“Show me how much you want it.”

You freed his length from his slacks, your mouth eagerly falling open, lips pressing against his flushed tip.

Your tongue darted out to lick over his tip.

Hannibal let out a sharp intake of breath, your tongue teasing him in such a sinful way.

Your eyes never wavered from his, filled with a wanton desire.

Eagerly you lapped at his tip before letting your jaw fall slack.

His length passed your lips into your warm mouth, you let him sink deep until he hit the back of your throat.

Hannibal's breath caught in his chest, a low groan escaping him as you did so.

He stroked your hair in an almost gentle gesture, his eyes never leaving yours.

“That’s it, darling.” he breathed, his free hand reaching down to grip your chin, his thumb tracing over your lips as they stretched around his length.

Spit drooled at the side of your mouth as you let him sit in your throat, your tongue licking at the underside of his cock, flicking over a thick vein.

He grunted, the noise half growl, half groan, as you looked up at him, your eyes watery from the strain.

“You look so perfect like this.” he said gruffly.

You tried to really let him rest there for longer but you had to pull your head back before you began to gag on his length. You sucked in a sharp breath as his tip rested in the front of your mouth now.

Your hand came up to wrap around the base of his length, a string spit connecting your lip and his tip as you pulled him free.

He hissed at the sensation, but the visual aspect of you on your knees for him almost brought him just as much pleasure.

You let his length sink into your mouth again, your nose almost brushing his pelvis. 

He growled softly, his hand tightening in your hair, guiding you back just enough to let you breathe before you almost sputtered and gagged around his cock again.

He could feel the tension in your body, the way your fingers tightened on his hip.

“Is that what you want, darling? To make me happy?” he groaned.

You almost moaned around his length at the words coming from his lips. 

His hand gently guided you now, up and down his length as you let him enjoy your mouth like he pleased.

Your eyes began to water slightly at the sheer lack of air and force of his thrusts.

He watched as you gagged around his length, your eyes tearing up, your body shaking. 

But you loved it, you loved being on your knees for him, even as you struggled to breathe.

He ran a gentle hand through your hair, withdrawing for a moment, letting you gasp for air.

You sucked in a cruel breath of air, sputtering and almost coughing on saliva as he already pushed your head back down before you even had the chance to catch your breath.

Your eyes rolled back just a bit, wetness and heat in your stomach growing hotter at the sheer dominance he had over you. 

“I’m close, love,”he told you, his voice low and rough. “Can you take it? Can you be a good bunny and take it for me?”

You let out a whiny sound around his length, drool collecting at the corner of your mouth as you let him thrust into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat each time.

He let out a low, ragged growl as he watched the drool run down your chin, your neck, the sight and sensations almost driving him mad.

“Just a little more.” he reassured you.

Your head felt dizzy, the world spinning around you.

You looked up at him as he suddenly pushed himself deep into your mouth.

With a groan he released himself into your mouth, the sticky warmth filling your mouth.

He looked down at you, his eyes dark, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as he watched you swallow his release.

You pulled back enough to catch your breath, his now twitching length resting against your lips for a moment until you pulled back completely. 

Your tongue gathered the rest of drool and fluids from your lips, swallowing before your eyes caught his again, clearly drunk on pleasing him.

The sight of you like that, so eager to please, stirred something animalistic in him, something needy and greedy.

“Come here.” he hummed, his voice a low command. 

He crouched down, reaching for you and gently pulling you to him.

You immediately did as you were told, basically launching at him, pushing at his coat, hands grabbing greedily at him as you couldn’t help but let your lips lock with his.

He groaned against your lips, tasting himself on your tongue as you kissed him hungrily, your hands roving over his body.

He nipped at your bottom lip lightly, “Greedy little thing..”

You felt him give you an almost patronising pat. You knew what that meant.

You whined, gently flipping over, stomach now in the tall wet grass as you lifted your ass and hips towards him, back arched in near perfection.

He chuckled again, the sound low and rumbling in his chest as you presented yourself to him in such a perfect way. 

Oh, he loved when you were like this, needy and desperate for him.

His hands roamed your thighs, tracing at the lace with a large wet stain, your heat eager underneath it.

Your hand aimlessly held onto nothing but the dirt and grass in front of you, the uncertainty of not seeing what he was doing there behind you only made you feel more in heat.

His hands continued to roam, slowly, teasingly, tracing patterns on your bare thighs.

Your hips ground back at him into nothing until his fingertip danced along your lace covered slit, you let out a needy sound at that, a whiny moan.

“So desperate, darling.” he teased. 

His finger continued to tease, tracing over your wet lace, feeling you writhe and squirm beneath him.

“Such a needy little thing, my bunny.”

You let the sounds just tumble from your lips now, your eyes falling shut.

His finger easily hooked into your panties, pulling aside the lace to expose your glistening cunt. 

A gasp left your lips as his fingers pushed into you, two at once, making you squirm. 

“Fuck–” you let out immediately, hips rocking back against his fingers like in mindless heat.

He chuckled lowly as he felt you gasp and squirm against his fingers.

He could feel how wet you were, how much you needed this, how much you wanted him.

“Needy little thing.” he teased again.

He increased the pace of his fingers, the movement steady and rhythmical.

“You are mine, aren’t you? My lovely bunny to do with what I please.”

You nodded and moaned, your cunt drooling with slick a his fingers pumped into you. “I’m all yours..”

He groaned as he heard the words leave your mouth, his fingers pumping into you at a steady pace. 

“That’s right.” he growled. “Mine to hunt, mine to catch, mine to have.”

You let out a whiny moan as his fingers thrust into you, curling to hit the spot that made you see stars.

His fingers continued their pace, his thumb flicking over your clit as he felt how swollen and sensitive it was.

“Oh, love.” he murmured, his voice rough.

“You’re so sensitive. I could easily make you come just like this, with just my fingers. But I don’t think I want to give you that release just yet. No. I like hearing you whine and beg for it, my little bunny. I like seeing how desperate you get for me.”

He chuckled darkly as he withdrew his fingers, watching as you let out a pathetic whine, lifting your head off the ground.

There was a slight smudge of dirt on your flushed cheek, as you let out a whiny, “Please– Hanni–”

He leaned in close, gently running his thumb over the smudge of dirt on your cheek. 

“Please what, love? Tell me what you want.”

Your heat twitched and clenched uselessly around nothing as you let out another whimper, 

“Please– ah– please fuck me…”

He growled softly at your words, “Is that what you want, my little bunny? To take care of that heat, that ache between your thighs?”

You nodded, hips wiggling a bit in the air as your back arched even more.

He chuckled softly, his hands moving to your hips, holding you in place.

You must have looked pathetic, back arched with your ass up, face half in the dirt and wet grass, your dress half shoved up your body.

“Please– Hannibal, please I need you, please– please–” your words became increasingly more needy and whiny.

He let out a low, growled laugh. 

You felt his hand on your ass as he ran his hot tip through your folds, making you squirm even more.

“Please– fuck me– fuck me until I... I can't think of anything... please…” you whined.

He groaned at your words, hearing the desperation in your voice, the needy pleading, the want in your tone.

“You beg so perfectly for me.” he praised you.

At that you felt the delicious pain of the head of his cock nudging into your slick entrance, he wasn't even fully inside and you already let out a whimpering moan, backing your hips into his, causing him to slide inside much quicker.

He groaned in response, feeling your body move against his, desperate for more. 

“Is that what you wanted, my little bunny? Is that what you need?” he growled.

You nodded, head resting against your arm on the floor to not completely drag yourself through the mud. 

Your hips connected with his and he filled you up to the hilt.

“That feels good, doesn't it, bunny?” he murmured, his voice low and rough. 

“Yes– yes yes” you let out in between breathy moans as he began to thrust into you, with the urgency of someone in heat. 

He groaned at how easily he could slide in and out of you, how desperate your body was for him.

Hannibal fucked into you with enough force to make your head spin with dizziness, your eyes fell shut as the only thing you felt, was his cock stretching your walls.

Your heat clamped down on him, walls fluttering around his cock. 

You felt too good, the heat pooling in her stomach felt like it was going to overflow any moment now.

He groaned as you tightened around him, the sensation almost too much to bear. 

He could sense how close you were, your heat and need for him almost overwhelming.

You couldn’t help the moans now senselessly tumbling from your lips, eyes heavy lidded as you tried to focus on anything but the burning knot of heat in your stomach.

Your hips pushed back to meet his with each of his thrusts. His cock buried deep inside you, hitting your cervix with every thrust. 

You let out a few mumbled moans and pleas, urging Hannibal to thrust into you hard enough you were sure he was internally bruising you.

Suddenly your release wrecked through you as you were reduced to a moaning mess, walls fluttering around him. You were dripping with slick at that point, the knot in your stomach snapping undone.

“Such a good little bunny,” he groaned, voice filled with a mix of praise and possessive pride.

You let out overstimulated moans and mewls as he kept fucking into you, kept shoving his cock into your spasming pussy and making your head feel hot with heat as he chased his own orgasm.

“You've made a lovely mess, haven't you, little bunny?” he panted, voice low and rough with approval.

You let him fuck you, use you even after you came as his thrusts made overstimulation blank out your mind. 

Your moans dissolved into muffled whines and whimpers, your pussy leaking.

“Come on, sweet thing. Let me hear your pretty little noises.” 

You let out a soft, “Hanni– 's too much…” between breathy moans. 

You felt his cock twitch inside you, with no care for the overstimulation that seemingly made your head spin.

“You're doing so well,” he encouraged you, hand pressing firm against your hips.

You nodded, you wanted to make him feel good after all. 

Soft moans kept tumbling from your lips, your heat clenching hard around him until he finally shoved his hips into you in one solid motion and buried himself deep inside you.

He groaned in satisfaction as he spent himself inside you, his hand tightening on your hip as he held you securely against him. 

You felt your legs trembling, your heat dripping with slick and other fluids. 

He withdrew from you slowly, taking in the sight of you, trembling and spent. 

His hand came up to run through your hair, a soft gesture of affection.

“Look at you… You're a mess, my little bunny. But you're a beautiful mess.” he hummed.

You slowly sat up halfway, trembling all over as the sudden heat left you and you were reminded that you are in fact on the cold forest floor with Hannibal. 

You leaned into him immediately seeking his warmth and comfort.

He chuckled softly and wrapped an arm around you.

After, quite formally tucking himself back in, despite his now quite disheveled appearance. He picked you up, supporting your weight as if you weighed nothing at all. 

His gaze scanned over you, taking in your mud-streaked body and the glistening wetness between your thighs.

You couldn't help but smile a bit, head nuzzling against his chest.

His hand came up to stroke your hair, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You did very good, my little bunny,” he praised, his voice low and dark with approval. 

“You were so good for me. You gave me everything I wanted, took everything I gave you.”

You leaned up to press a soft kiss to his lips, cuddling into him as he held you.

He returned your kiss, his hand running through your hair affectionately.

“As much as I'd love to stay here with you like this, we should probably head back soon. We don't want you catching a cold, or getting... any dirtier.”

You nodded, holding onto him as he began stepping over branches and leaves back to the path to his house, “I love you, Hannibal…” you murmured against his neck.

He tightened his grip on you, holding you closer.

“I love you too, my little bunny.”

─── ꒰ 🌲 ꒱ ───

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