A/N: I don't own Hannibal. Yadda, Yadda, Yadda. Tell me what you think of this story. As always, if you have a prompt or an idea for something you'd like for me to write, send me a message on here or my tumblr: ShadequeenScully. Warnings for explicit sex with no plot
Beg
Hannibal steps onto the cobblestoned street with ease, his leather workbag swaying slightly with each calculated step. It is nearly 5:15, and she should be arriving soon.
This has been their routine for roughly 7 months. Only at night and weekends would they join each other. He spots her legs first from across the courtyard and wonders how they hadn't been caught yet. Those legs were unmistakable. She was seated, legs crossed, on a small bench. Pensive. When she senses his presence, she begins to cross the distance between them
She walks, calculated, across the street and he can't help but notice her beauty. Bedelia was a woman who insisted on taking care of her appearance, her leopard- printed coat and black leather bag speaking for themselves. While he has eased into pants, sweaters and leather jackets, she will not go without her poised outfits. They will catch him because of self-congratulation; she will be caught by self-indulgence. It is a trait he admires in her.
Bedelia meets him in the middle of the busy courtyard, and links her arm with Hannibal's as they make their journey home, easing into the comfort of each other's presence.
"You have been here for some time," He observes, smiling as her fingers tighten around his jacket when a young woman's eyes linger on Hannibal for too long. While he wanted to protect, she wanted to possess. He remembered her words when he asked her to join him in his escape.
"I will not, unless I can have all of you."
"I need your assistance tonight," she spoke smoothly. They walk a few more steps, a silence falling between them, before he questions her. "It is of no consequence," she replies smooth as water, and he can tell that she's hiding from him.
He pauses in the street, "I needn't remind you of your stipulations" he says, pulling her roughly and quickly into a small alleyway, eliciting a sigh from her plump lips.
"Honesty is my only stipulation, Hannibal"
Bedelia's eyes are downcast for a moment before they meet his in the darkness of the alley. Her usually clear eyes are now clouded with lust and an impish smile forms on her lips. "A man was asking questions about you," she whispers into his collar, her breath hot on his neck. "And you know how they like to beg me," Bedelia murmurs, slowly unzipping his leather jacket, before pulling at the cinch of her own. His eyebrows rise momentarily, and his slacks become tight around his groin. Since her attack, she had only asked for physical pleasure a handful of times, and never this blatantly.
Her hands slide under his jacket and to his shoulders. "I can't wait any longer," she whines pressing her back roughly against the old brick walls and pulling him with her, her breath heavy with desire. He kisses her gently at first, before she forcefully kisses him back, sliding her tongue into his mouth and biting his lips. Hannibal takes the lead and moves his right hand under her black dress, lifting the material as he runs his fingers up her creamy thighs. His left hand is firmly pressed against her breast, rubbing her nipple roughly through the fabric.
He feels raunchy, and crude, but when his fingers reach her curls, realizing that she has no underwear on for him to push aside, Hannibal feels a weakening in his knees. He never realized that begging had this effect on her. She's soaking with her own desire and her clitoris a terribly swollen.
"You've been trying all day," he whispers, as he rubs her enlarged clit, her tiny hands digging into his muscled back with a whimper when he withdraws his fingers. He can't resist her any longer.
She's suddenly lifted and filled when he pushes himself into her, Bedelia's left leg wrapped around his middle while her right is barely touching the ground in her six inch heels.
"He died," she pants "before" she keens "I could finish."
His left hand cups her ass firmly keeping her in place as he pumps into her, his steady rhythm making her cheeks flush.
"F-faster," she commands in a demanding voice that nearly does him in. She didn't want the slow passion of their previous nights, not that an alleyway would denote the romanticism she previously sought. Her eyes are salacious and carnal as she murmurs "Ha-Harder," between Hannibal begins pumping into her, Bedelia's hips bucking with each thrust, her hands knotted in his hair as he fucks her with all he has.
She throws her head back, blonde hair spilling over her shoulders. Her voice cracks when she moans loudly, her blue eyes rolling back into her head as she orgasms. Her walls spasm around him and his penis is rock hard inside her. He can feel every muscle in her calf extend, and he knows she must be arching her foot. Her soleus and Achilles are tight beneath his hand and the motion of Bedelia curling her dainty toes is almost enough to throw him over.
"Finish," she gasps, coming down from her orgasm and he pushes into her three more times before releasing with a grunt, his hot semen spilling into her and dripping on her thighs.
The sun has completely set when they've finished and the street lamps have ignited, bathing the streets in a soft glow. Bedelia wobbles slightly in her heels when she takes her first steps, but he has a hand around her tiny waist, possessively, as they enter back onto the main street.
Hannibal hopes that she'll need his 'assistance' once they get back to their shared home.
And if not, he could always beg.