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Title: Slave To Love
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Author's Note: One-shot.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Hannibal Lecter or Will Graham, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.
***"Come here, William. Let me look at you."
Hannibal smiled as Will approached him, blushing. This little idea was one of the better ones he'd had, to his way of thinking; he could tell that Will was embarrassed, but that would soon wear off as he got used to the sensual feel of what he was wearing.
Will stood before him, naked except for a black satin garter belt that held up sheer black stockings. Hannibal couldn't help but wonder if the silken fabric that now covered Will's smooth, waxed legs was a soft as the pale flesh that it was stretched over.
More than likely not. Nothing was as soft as Will's skin.
To Hannibal, he looked unbearably lovely; it was hard to stop himself from reaching out and pulling Will into an embrace, then lying him down on the nearby couch and taking him, not gently, but roughly, expressing his fierce desire in the most primal way.
But he wouldn't do that. Not tonight. He would let the desire build for both of them, and then he would take Will gently but firmly.
>i>If</i> he could hold himself back, that was. Hannibal was beginning to doubt his ability to hold back when Will looked so deliciously decadent. He hadn't expected that little costume to have such an arousing effect on him.
He would have to exercise control. A lot of it.
Tonight, Will was his slave. A slave to desire, a slave to love. Of course, he was always that -- but the way he was dressed -- or, rather, barely dressed -- was a testament to how far Will was willing to go to show Hannibal how much in thrall he was.
Hannibal had to appreciate that. For a man like Will, even though he was a submissive at heart, this kind of subservience didn't come easily.
WIll wasn't a naturally subservient man, though he was a submissive personality. He'd simply had to find the right man to bow his head to; Hannibal knew that he was that man. No one else would have been able to get this kind of reaction from Will.
Will was his slave, yes, but Will was also his lover. There was a fine line between the two, and Hannibal was good at keeping them balanced. He knew just when to treat Will as more o a slave, and when to make him a lover in every sense of the word.
He wanted Will now more than he had ever wanted him before. There was something about the way his lover looked at the moment that inflamed him.
Hannibal raised a hand to draw Will nearer; the young man stepped toward him, hesitantly at first, then with a more firm and sure step, until he stood directly in front of where Hannibal was seated in his chair. Will stood directly between Hannibal and the desk.
"Turn around, Will." Hannibal's voice as low, sultry.
His voice was as much of a caress as the touch of his hands would be in mere seconds. That voice would make Will obey as nothing else could.
His boyfriend obediently turned around; Hannibal reached out a hand to cup one smooth, firm buttock. He marveled at how soft Will's skin was, and how perfectly his hand seemed to fit around Will's flesh. It was as though this body had been made to fit his specifications.
Will was perfect. He had been born to be with Hannibal, born to belong to him. There was no other reason for why they fit like hand in glove -- in so many ways.
"Lean over the desk and spread your legs, Will." Hannibal's voice was still soft, almost a purr. The words didn't sound at all like a command -- though they definitely were.
Will did as he was told, and Hannibal's breath hitched in his throat. How could anyone be so beautiful, so utterly desirable? And as well as that, Will was utterly biddable -- at least for him. He was completely open and amenable to anything Hannibal wished of him.
He was a slave to love. A slave to desire. A slave to their bond. And Hannibal couldn't help but appreciate that fact. His boy was indeed well-trained.
Or perhaps Will simply loved him enough to do these things for him.
Hannibal stood up, loosening his belt and then unzipping his trousers. He knew that Will anticipated what was about to happen, could see it in the trembling of the slender body spread out before him. He would give Will all that he expected, all that he wanted.
He groaned at the feel of being gripped by such intense heat as he slid into that slender, willing body. His own desire rose, almost engulfing him.
But no, he couldn't let that desire take over. he couldn't become a slave to that desire, a slave to his own need -- or even his love for Will. No, he had to hold back, to retain control, to make sure that they were both satiated before he could let go.
But it was so hard to do, even as he thrust hard and deep into the body under him. It was hard to rein in those desires, to remind himself that he had to control their pleasure, when he wanted to make himself a slave to all that he wanted and needed.
Somehow, he would manage to do so. He would keep himself from losing control, no matter how hard it might be to do with this veritable feast spread before him.
He reached for Will's hands, holding him down even as he thrust harder and deeper into him. He could feel Will writhing under him, hear the soft moans that contained his name; all of it only inflamed his desire, made his body thrust even harder and more passionately.
All too soon, it was over, his release coursing through him.
Back down to earth from the rarefied air of the heavens that he and Will had just touched, landing lightly and gracefully on his feet, with only his rapid breathing and the pounding of his heart, as well as the pleasure still coursing through him, to let him know what heights they'd achieved.
Will's body in his arms, his rapid heartbeat matching Hannibal's own, the sound of his ragged breathing music to the ears.
Ah, and the feel of those silk stockings against his legs, knowing that the silken flesh they encased was even sweeter and more enticing. He wanted to feel that flesh beneath his hands, beneath his mouth, to taste Will to the fullest.
But that was something that needed to be done with care.
It was something that needed to be done in his bedroom, in the comfortable space of his large bed. Time to adjourn their intimate activities to that space, then. As pleasant as it had been to have Will here, he felt the need for something more at the moment.
He needed Will to be his slave, even if only for the evening. A slave to love, a slave who he could take again and again, a slave to his every wish. His wish would be Will's command --and all of those wishes would be obeyed, and even joyfully participated in.
This evening was far from over. In fact, it was only beginning.
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