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He heard the front door slam shut, it was the first indication he had that something was wrong.
Hannibal raised his eyes from the old book he had been so focused on reading, he waited patiently; the sound of stomping steps rushing upstairs making him certain he'd have the answer to his questions soon enough.
"Hannibal?" his name was called out and a weak frown appeared on his features, he laid the book aside.
"In the study, my dear," he replied, then heard his lover halt before she came in his direction.
Clarice Starling, former FBI Agent, had her cheeks red and her eyes spoke of violence. He could almost hear her thumping hard and the boiling of her fury. Still, he didn't miss how her pupils widened at the sight of him, how her eyes took him in entirely. And her scent, there was no denying her scent.
"Clarice?" he prompted.
She dropped her purse, allowed it to fall to the ground, fought her coat off, and grabbed at her skirts, pulling them up and out of the way. She tore at her underwear and threw it aside before she straddled him. Her gaze searching his features for an instant before her hands flew to undo the buttons of his shirt. She growled. "You've got too many clothes on." Her skilled hands went for his pants, undoing his belt fast.
"Clarice, if we could discuss the situation,..." he began.
She slipped her hand inside his pants, cupped his prick over his underwear, and gave him a devious wide smile. "You want the situation?" she questioned leaning forward to brush their lips together. "I want your cock inside me." She proceeded, hastily, pulling his slacks out of the way, threatening to tear at his underwear if it didn't get out of the way fast enough. Starling caught his member, then finally slowed down, she started with gentle strokes.
Starling kissed him, deeply, and Lecter was happy to respond to her, pulling her closer by the back of her neck. She bit his lip more than once, nibbling at times, which made him break the kiss to observe her.
"I believe there's something to be discussed here," he said.
"We can discuss it later," she said, shifting on his lap, stroking him harder. Her lust-filled gaze wandering through him.
"I'd like to know what made you this agitated, dear," he said, careful not to fuel her ire nor to make her think he was rejecting her.
"People have said things," she dismissed, seeking his lips once more, her free hand undoing his buttons until she could run her hand through his chest. She hissed in pleasure and he saw her undo the buttons of her own dress, anxious, desperate for more contact.
"What things?" he insisted.
She growled. "Hannibal, please, can't we leave this for now? I really want to—"
The good doctor got her hand away from his penis, then drew her closer and aligned himself to her opening, rubbing slow and tortuously against her entrance. She whined. "Talk to me, Clarice."
The former agent rubbed against him like a cat and he indulged her by releasing her hips long enough so he could reveal her chest beneath the upper half of the dress, then play a bit with her bra straps. "There was this tabloid when I stopped for cheese on the way home..." she began.
"Yes?" he lowered a strap.
"It said," she swallowed, "it was talking about Will Graham," he sensed anger on her tone and heard her accent come back. He made a point to reach behind her, free her from the bra. She helped him get her rid of it. Hannibal focused on how her face contorted in pleasure as he massaged one of her breasts. She was trying to sink on his lap, but he wouldn't let her.
"What about Will Graham?" he held no love for the man, the mere mention of his name making his voice harder.
Clarice shifted, determined. She met his eyes, serious. "This man kept saying you and Graham had been sexually involved. He told a whole story about the two of you being lovers. I wished I had his brains for dinner."
He tensed, but she leaned him, kissed the length of his neck, teeth grazing at his flesh more than once, and he released, allowing her to lower herself. Starling moaned as he slid into her, filling her to the brim, stretching her. Her nails raked at his chest and she smiled before kissing him all over. "Did you believe it?"
She threw her head back in a laugh. She met his eyes, her own darkened. Clarice moved on his lap, once, twice, riding him slowly. "Darling, I'm afraid you wouldn't care for me if I was a man." She moved again, savoring the thrust before she spoke again. "I know how much you hate Will Graham, the only part of him you could fuck was his mind."
She went for his mouth once more, kissed him deeply, holding on to him tight. Her hips mimicking the movements of her tongue. She mewled when his hands tugged at her dress, he might just tear it and she couldn't bring herself to care. Between kisses, he managed to cup her breast, slow her thrusts down, he teased a nipple between his digits, and felt her tighten her walls around him on purpose.
Hannibal broke a kiss. "Why would you be disturbed by Will Graham?"
Clarice bit at his throat. "They said I'd be dead by now, you'd have killed me and would be on your way to Will Graham's house, to fuck his brains out."
Lecter studied her, his own anger growing in his chest. "Who you said wrote this again?"
"A Brian something," she dismissed, kissing him, moving again against him. She nibbled at his ear. "We can send him a nasty gift later, for now, I'd like to do something else."
Starling smiled when his hands went to her hips, helping her when her movements got harder.
"Graham will have to go through me to have any piece of you," she hissed. "I'm too happy where I am," she gave a particularly hard thrust after the comment. She stopped then, capturing his attention. "Hannibal Lecter, what would you say if I asked you to marry me?"
He met her eyes, kissed her hard. "Is my pretty Starling having doubts about my fidelity?"
She snickered. "I'd have your balls for breakfast if I ever thought you'd cheat on me. No," she said, "I want to bed you as my husband, it isn't as if we haven't been living like it already." Their lips touched once more. "Well, Hannibal, may I have you as my husband?"
His grip on her hips was made hard. "Wrap your legs around me," he said before standing, she complied fast, holding on to him.
"Where are we going?"
"Bed," he said, "a celebration is in order and my fiancée deserves much more than a quick fumbling in our study."
The future Lecter Countess kissed him hard, a wide smile on her lips.