Again, we got some MA action here! So be cautious, don't be an asshole if you aren't into that. When you see it's starting to happen, skip over it.
"Wow… nice house." It's all I can manage to say. It truly is a wonderful, it's almost overbearing. The walls are grey with overlaying red curtains to offset the darkness. The walls are coated in artwork from all corners of the world and sculptures of beautiful magnitude. I notice a lack of pictures of people, however. No family photos from what I can tell.
"Thank you. To be honest, I've always preferred my office." He holds a hand against my back as I slip off my shoes.
"Yeah, Will told me about the old timey book balcony you have."
"Did he? You'll have to come and visit, see it for yourself. I know you'll appreciate it." His smile is small, more focused on leading me into the dining room.
It's overwhelming. The table is far too long for two, even if we sat across from each other, I'd feel intimidated by unused space. The table is lined with a white cloth and silver candlesticks, holding white candles waiting to be lit. Crystal white dishes sit across from each other just beside the head of the table. I take a deep breath… man, he likes to hold dinner parties. I really need to show him a night in, Celest style.
"Too much?" He asks, pulling out my chair.
"A little." I chuckle, gulping as I sit. This man makes me nervous. To be honest, I'm still a tad freaked out. No one normal has a nose like his and his demeanor… while charming, there's something off putting about his façade.
"I'll be back in a moment, I simply have to plate." He leaves, giving me time to look around. It's so clean, the moonlight cascading in from the back, glass doors making each surface glow and shine. The feel the chill from beyond them, rubbing my one arm. Hopefully this is a light meal…
"Here," Hannibal walks back in with a plate in each hand ", the appetizer is cretons de chez-vous."
"What's that?" I scoff, observing the dish. Three pieces of… toasted baguette? It's covered with a humus looking thing, topped with some shredded cabbage or something.
"It's my take on a classic dish. A toasted baguette, topped with ground pork, finished with lettuce lightly dabbed with a vinaigrette sauce." He reams off the list as he pours his infamous self-brewed n' bottled beer.
I give a nod, looking down. Am I supposed to pick this up? Is that rude? Fuck, I should have talked to Will about this. I take a sip of the beer to fill the moment. Holy fuck, it's like paradise was turned into a liquid that was blessed by unicorns frolicking in a field of human equality and sexy love. I almost forget the awkward situation at hand, this beer is so good. I set the glass down, thinking about how I'd rather have that for dinner.
"It's finger food." Hannibal smiles. Well hot damn… those are undistinguished words from a distinguished mouth. But it's nice to know, none the less. I pick up one of the small pieces, taking a small nibble. The colour of the meat was deceiving; it's wonderful. The texture and the flavors dance a seductive salsa on my tongue. It's fuckin' rad, to say the least.
But there's something off about it. It doesn't quite taste like the pork I've had in all my years of life. I'm not sure if it's bad or not. I take another bite, weighing it on my tongue.
"Everything up to taste, darling?" Darling? Now that just sounds weird…
"Yeah, it's great."
We finish the weird tasting dish and move onto the main course. It's a rack of lamb… uhg, even I have standards. But shit, I'll try anything twice, and it does look real good. I cut into it and give it a tentative taste. Again, it's damn good, but there's just something off about it. Not in a way where it tastes bad or undercooked. Just… off.
"You've been making odd facial expressions all night. Is the food alright?" Hannibal looks up at me, chewing a small piece of lamb.
"Uh, yeah. It's just," I can't bear to tell him it tastes weird, he's prided on his cooking so high ", so fancy. I'm not a fancy woman."
"What kind of woman are you?" He grins, cocking his head.
"Come over and I'll show you. Only one rule; sweat pants are a must."
"I'll have to go out and buy sweatpants."
"Buy a muscle shirt too. You'll look real good." I wink, continuing to eat. I don't hear anything form his side of the table. He's stopped eating? I look up, just to see him staring at me.
"What?" I laugh, tucking some hair behind my ear.
"We've spent plenty of time together, but I know nothing of you. I don't know what Celest Falton is about." Hannibal eyes me, eyes lifting occasionally.
"What's to know?"
"Everything you'll tell me." He watches me like a hawk watching its prey, attentive and hungry. I might as well, what's to lose?
"Well, I was born and raised here. Father was never around, Mom raised me on her own. I started dancing when I was seven and never gave it up. I was a lesbian from age ten to twenty until, one day, a man seemingly appeared out of nowhere and I fell in love with him. While he destroyed my heart like a fucking asshole, he helped me find myself. Now I just identify as sexual, it's more accurate that way."
"A lesbian for ten years, then a sudden change?" He perks up like a puppy. I swear, I'm psychiatrist fodder.
"Anything's possible. It was weird, but you gotta go with the flow. It happened, so it happened, you know? Anyway, in high school, I took lots of art and the only creative writing class given. I took a few law classes too, just to get some information. After that, I took one year at college. Did a women's studies class, fictional writing course, and a sexual education course. I graduated, bought the house I live in now, paid off my student debts, my mortgage, and everything else. I do better than just surviving in life because I'm doing what I love. That's basically it." I put the lamb in my mouth, giving a shrug as I chew.
"You skipped over your elementary school years."
"The point?" I say after I swallow, cutting another piece.
"You skipped over eight or nine years of your life. The period in which we grow and discover ourselves as human beings in a very specific way."
"Well, they weren't fun for me." This isn't something I want to address. Not today, or tomorrow, or even years from now.
"Why not?"
I look at him, my face stoic. This isn't something I wanted to talk about, not now… not ever.
"A few years in elementary school were hell."
"You can tell me anything, you know."
"No, I don't." I finish the last bite, putting my utensils down. I give him a stare that makes him shift, leaning back in his chair. Then he gives a gentle smirk. That fucker, he's enjoying this.
"I didn't mean to prod. I hope you trust me well enough with your story one day." Thank fuck, he dropped it. Hannibal stands, kissing my forehead before leaving with the plates.
"I was going to do desert, but I thought that might be too much." He says as I enter the kitchen, watching him flawlessly move around.
"Probably would be," I laugh, patting my stomach dramatically ", it was wonderful. Do you need any help." I offer, standing in front of the sink. Hannibal's arms wrap around me, his lips touching my neck in a gentle kiss.
"I'll do them later." He turns me around, lifting me up. I wrap my legs around his waist with a laugh, elbows resting on his shoulders.
"You're strong for your age." I tease, earning a stern look.
"How old do you think I am?" He gives a smirk, walking past his living room to the stairs.
"You're direct, aren't you?" I chuckle, excitement soaring through my veins.
"Apparently, when you're my age, you have to be." He kisses between my collar bones, stepping through the open doorway to his bedroom. It's dark, yet comforting, the curtains just slightly open to let the moonlight in.
He sets me down on the bed, eyeing me with a strong hunger. He pushes my legs apart, looking down at me with roaming eyes. He lets his hands wander down my arms and up my clothed torso. He pulls my blouse out from my skirt, slowly undoing each button with skilled fingers. Hannibal pulls me up by the fabric, sliding it off my flesh, my white bra exposed to him. Pushing me back down, he continues his exploration, lightly tickling my flesh as he runs his fingertips down my torso.
He toys with my hem of my skirt, dropping his head to kiss above my breasts. I groan for him, pushing my hips up against him; incentive to remove the skirt. Painfully slow, he pushes it down, silky fabric hitting the floor. I feel exposed, horrifically, bringing my own hands to the lapels of his jacket. I push it away, letting it join the floor with my blouse. He didn't seem to mind, giving me a smile as I pull at his tie. I kiss him, soft and shy, pushing him away by the shoulders. I yank the tie off, undoing the buttons on his vest, then his shirt. It's a shame he hides his body under the three piece suits, his chest toned and chiseled. His hand moves to pull my bra strap down, but I grab it, kissing each fingertip as if to bless it before he moves on. It's possibly one of the most erotic things I've experienced. The way we locked eyes in that moment sent shivers down my spine.
I'm stuck in that moment as he moves on, hands lifting me slightly to undo the confining material. He pulls it away, eyeing me over. I can tell he wants to touch me, let himself indulge in me, but he keeps hold. He lets his hands hall to my underwear, pulling it off in one swift movement. He drops to his knees, pulling me close to him, my knees over his shoulders. Hannibal takes my hands, kissing the inside of my thighs. I moan, letting my eyes flutter shut.
I feel his breath against me, my stomach flipping in anticipation. I dig my heels into his back, arching my body. I feel hot, suspending in a moment where everything is too warm for my flesh. Then I feel his tongue circle me; I gasp. It only takes a moment of his tongue lapping me up to realize he's a master of the art. I let myself fall into a fit of loud moans, eyes peering down to watch him. He's entranced, eyes closed and head bobbing gently with each flick of the tongue. I grip his hands tighter, feeling him speed up his movements. His tongue enters me, and then draws back, lips encasing my clit. He sucks, slowly, letting me feel each and every throb that shoots through my body.
I can barely form his name, but I know he can sense I'm close. My breath turns heavy and I pull his hands up to my chest. Hannibal's hands grip my breasts, his mouth working furious wonders on me. My moans, loud and frequent, turn incoherent. I start to throb, hips pushing up against my will. My hands fly above my head, gripping onto the feather down comforter. Hannibal keeps working his magic, slowing down at a steady rate until he climbs back up my body in a trail of kisses. I grip his belt, shaking hands fighting to get it off. Finally, I push them down with his underwear, pulling him close against me.
"I need you." I manage to whisper, kissing along his jaw.
He grips my hips, pushing inside me without warning. I give a squeal with a smile. The feeling of being so full, the feeling of him thrusting into me... it's almost too much. I grab his shoulders, raking my nails down his back. I hear Hannibal hiss, kissing me with tremendous force. The hip motions go faster, he's not going to last much longer and neither am I. I move my hips with his, his soft groans of pleasure in my ear egging me on. I pull my lips form his, whispering into his ear to give into me. His hips meet my own, his arms wrapping under me to pull me close.
"You're wonderful, my dear." His voice is low and enchanting. I give a chuckle, kissing his neck.
"I've been told." I grin, kissing his lips once more.
I should write a non shitty version of Fifty Shades of Grey and get fucking rich, I tell you.
xoxoPN