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Clarice wets her dry lips a second before a groan escapes her, her back arches against his chest and off the bed. He has dangerous teeth nipping at her throat and the slight pressure he puts has her crying out. Her walls contract against his erection, her legs tighten their grip on his hips. Her nails sink on the flesh of his back, which earns her a grunt a bite. She smirks.
Her hands run through his back and she savors every thrust of his as he chases his own release. She kisses his cheek, his jaw, scraps his chin with her own teeth, then licks the area as if soothing him.
When Hannibal finally comes inside her, she's still beaming, drawing circles in his back. He tries to move, but she doesn't allow it.
"My dear, I want to check the time," he says.
Her digits run all the way up to the back of his head, she plays with strands of his hair. "Why hurry, Doctor? Any appointments I have forgotten about?" her gaze wanders over his features, his body. She's satisfied he still hasn't slipped out of her.
"We need to eat," he replies. He studies her face and her beam widens.
"Planning on making me toast with jelly?" she doesn't resist the urge to nibble at his chin again.
The tension leaves his shoulders. He allows a little of his weight to fall on her, aware of the amorous mood she's in. "I'm certain the servants have come up with a more nutritious meal, Clarice."
She kisses him near his earlobe. "I'm more interested in the meal trapped between my thighs."
"Feeling amorous, darling? Funny, I expected you to be sore given the activities of last night," he observes.
Clarice nibbles at his ear. "I am definitely sore, Hannibal, it doesn't mean I mind it, though. In fact, I have plans not to leave the bed."
"Must I remind of the importance of nourishment, my little Starling?"
The Lecter Countess rolls her eyes, she eases the hold of her legs around him. She whines when he slips out of her body.
Hannibal sits up on the bed, tips his head at her. "We have no plans for the day," he comments, "Perhaps, after breakfast, I could gather my supplies and draw you a sketch, then we can indulge in lazier activities you might have in mind."
Her blue orbs regard him and she relaxes back against the bed. "Go, Doctor. Get us breakfast," she pauses, watches as he stands, she takes a moment to appreciate the curve of his buttocks. "Do come back fast, though. It's unusually cold for this time of year and I'd love to steal your warmth. And put your robe on, at least, no need to give Graça a heart attack with you walking around like this. Some snacks I don't intend to share."
He shot her a glance.
Clarice snickered. "What? Can't be considered a snack? I'd certainly eat you."
Something flashes in his maroon eyes, but he doesn't say anything. There's a hint of a smile on his lips as he raises his head a little and makes his way to the bathroom to get his robe. She watches him, beaming to herself.