Hannibal can see, can feel, the tension of Will's body as his lover fights the urge to thrust, as he clings desperately to the last remaining shreds of his self-control. It's beautiful in a tragic sort of way. For so long Will has been fighting for those scraps of conventional morality, while Hannibal has been slowly and methodically stripping them away, until only the raw truth of Will's authentic self remains. How long he has desired Will goes hand in hand with how long he has been sculpting him in his own image. Paradoxical, then, that as the desire has deepened, he has come to appreciate, indeed to love, those parts of Will that were different.
"From the beginning I have found you attractive," he murmurs, breath hot on Will's erection. He wraps a hand loosely around it and begins a torturous stroke. "A feeling that has only deepened in the time of our acquaintance." His eyes on Will, he teasingly brushes his lips against the head of Will's cock. "That attraction bloomed into sexual desire later. When you sent the orderly to kill me."
The thought makes Hannibal's own cock ache, and he closes his eyes for just a moment, drawing a slow breath, before again opening them to catch Will's, pupils wide with hunger, so like a shark.
"As I stood there," he says, his voice deepened by his arousal, "my arms bound and my neck noosed, so close to my own demise and at your command, I thought of you. Of how I would fuck you. Would kill you. Would consume you. Had I not been rescued, had I met my death at the end of that rope, your rope, my last conscious thought would have been of you, and my last sensation would have been climax."
Eyes still locked on Will's, he lowers his head again, this time taking Will deep into his mouth. It would be so easy to bite, to castrate Will here and now with his teeth, to then bite into the femoral artery and watch his lover bleed out. That thought found expression as he slowly pulling back, his potentially violent teeth gently scraping Will's sensitive skin.
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"From the beginning I have found you attractive," he murmurs, breath hot on Will's erection. He wraps a hand loosely around it and begins a torturous stroke. "A feeling that has only deepened in the time of our acquaintance." His eyes on Will, he teasingly brushes his lips against the head of Will's cock. "That attraction bloomed into sexual desire later. When you sent the orderly to kill me."
The thought makes Hannibal's own cock ache, and he closes his eyes for just a moment, drawing a slow breath, before again opening them to catch Will's, pupils wide with hunger, so like a shark.
"As I stood there," he says, his voice deepened by his arousal, "my arms bound and my neck noosed, so close to my own demise and at your command, I thought of you. Of how I would fuck you. Would kill you. Would consume you. Had I not been rescued, had I met my death at the end of that rope, your rope, my last conscious thought would have been of you, and my last sensation would have been climax."
Eyes still locked on Will's, he lowers his head again, this time taking Will deep into his mouth. It would be so easy to bite, to castrate Will here and now with his teeth, to then bite into the femoral artery and watch his lover bleed out. That thought found expression as he slowly pulling back, his potentially violent teeth gently scraping Will's sensitive skin.