The tone and timbre of Hannibal's voice resonates through Will's entire being, bringing back memories of recent moments shared in Hannibal's office, the discussions they've had about Will's becoming, the low and visceral admissions Will made about his true nature. And while in the moment Will had allowed those things to surface as a means to an end, he hadn't invented them, hadn't been falsifying the guttural reaction he'd had to Hannibal's encouraging replies. Some of those words had been haunting Will for weeks, sinking more and more deeply into his psyche, allowing for the eventual rewiring that lead them to this moment, to Will craving this life so deeply that the last tethers of his morality had broken loose, leaving him broken open for Hannibal's ministrations.
Will manages to silence a cry when Hannibal pulls his fingers free, squeezing his eyes shut at the sensation of being stretched and empty, suddenly cold and gaping. He knows what's coming before he feels Hannibal's hard grip on his hip, before the slick, blunt head of Hannibal's cock bumps against him, and he's stretched enough that it sinks just a bit even before Hannibal presses against him.
The first few pushes are careful, the very subtle feeling of shallow penetration, like a tease. It makes Will feel a little strange, the same sort of anticipation before a not quite pleasant medical procedure widening in him, causing a hollow feeling in Will's belly, an ache in his jaw. But it doesn't last long, Hannibal's fingers digging into Will's flesh hard enough to leave bruises as he tenses and pushes all the way inside without a single additional moment of caution.
This is painful, enough so that Will is unable to fight his instinct to retreat, his spine caving as his body tries to get away from the stinging hurt raiding out from the point of penetration. Will grits his teeth, cutting off the injured whine he's making, the sound like a wounded animal. He pushes up on his arms just slightly so he can move his head, press his crown against the duvet and breathe, his body shaking hard as the intensity of the pain fades out until it's just a steady throb around the girth of Hannibal's dick inside him.
Taking a shuddering breath, Will shifts his perception, imagines what it must look like from Hannibal's vantage point, Will's hole tight and clinging around the width of the base of Hannibal's cock. It's dirty, pornographic, and it makes Will groan, his inner muscles fluttering, squeezing, feeling every inch of Hannibal inside him. He swears roughly, and a fierce wave of pleasure rolls through him, making him moan wetly, tides undeniably turned.
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Will manages to silence a cry when Hannibal pulls his fingers free, squeezing his eyes shut at the sensation of being stretched and empty, suddenly cold and gaping. He knows what's coming before he feels Hannibal's hard grip on his hip, before the slick, blunt head of Hannibal's cock bumps against him, and he's stretched enough that it sinks just a bit even before Hannibal presses against him.
The first few pushes are careful, the very subtle feeling of shallow penetration, like a tease. It makes Will feel a little strange, the same sort of anticipation before a not quite pleasant medical procedure widening in him, causing a hollow feeling in Will's belly, an ache in his jaw. But it doesn't last long, Hannibal's fingers digging into Will's flesh hard enough to leave bruises as he tenses and pushes all the way inside without a single additional moment of caution.
This is painful, enough so that Will is unable to fight his instinct to retreat, his spine caving as his body tries to get away from the stinging hurt raiding out from the point of penetration. Will grits his teeth, cutting off the injured whine he's making, the sound like a wounded animal. He pushes up on his arms just slightly so he can move his head, press his crown against the duvet and breathe, his body shaking hard as the intensity of the pain fades out until it's just a steady throb around the girth of Hannibal's dick inside him.
Taking a shuddering breath, Will shifts his perception, imagines what it must look like from Hannibal's vantage point, Will's hole tight and clinging around the width of the base of Hannibal's cock. It's dirty, pornographic, and it makes Will groan, his inner muscles fluttering, squeezing, feeling every inch of Hannibal inside him. He swears roughly, and a fierce wave of pleasure rolls through him, making him moan wetly, tides undeniably turned.