She was making clawing streaks across the velvet of the cliché chaise lounger, finger tips leaving contrasting smooth and rough tracks as she arched her back. A low groan started in the back of Bedelia's throat, ending in a short gasp.
Hannibal's hands dug into her hips leaving bruises shaped like finger prints on her pale, unsuntouched skin. He gripped her way she'd grabbed his tie moments earlier, dragging him in, a spilled glass of wine temporarily forgotten.
They had argued, the week before, a rarity between them. Then, he'd hosted a party. She'd attended it, another rarity. There had been several lingering, almost predatory glances and inhibitions lowered by alcohol for both. Soon the other guests had left, Bedelia strolled the perimeter of his office- a room that was supposed to be neutral territory. But nothing was neutral when it came to them.
"Fuck me," she'd whispered, lips hovering so close to his that he could taste the wine on her breath, "Hard."
"As you wish," he replied.
His hands circled her waist, pressing her flush to him. Bedelia tilted her head back, making him work for that first kiss. But it was not the delicate affair that poets put pen to paper about, for Bedelia had sharp teeth behind her soft lips and that small, hungry ember vexation still burned in Hannibal's gut, left over from their unresolved argument.
Their hands made quick work of each other's clothes, only stripping as much as necessary. As Bedelia wobbled in her heels, Hannibal took control of the situation, turning her to face the higher end of the lounger and guiding her to bend over it.
She braced herself, hair spilling forward as she felt him ready himself at her entrance. With a single fluid movement he filled her. He didn't wait, thrusting with all the energy and might that she'd requested.
One hand moved from her hips around between her legs to roll her most sensitive bundle of nerves under his fingertips. Bedelia moaned, head now back, and could feel herself tremble with the beginnings of an orgasm.
She pushed back Hannibal rocked forward, meeting him half way as she tried to grind against his hand. It was an angle she was unaccustomed to, primal and animalistic.
White hot heat exploded behind her eyelids as she came with a cry of pleasure that surprised her. Hannibal gripped her waist tighter and it was just moments later that he came as well.
It was a year and a half before they spoke of it again- and it was only watching an Italian sunset that they did- but Bedelia found she couldn't look directly at that velvet lounger without blushing. And Hannibal, in his particular fashion, always suggested she sit there when she visited his office.