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Copyright 2001, by Hannah

Disclaimer:    The characters of Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling were created by Thomas Harris.  They are used herein without permission, but in the spirit of admiration and respect.  No infringement of copyright is intended, and no profit, of any kind, is made by the creator, maintainer or contributors to this site.

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PART 1 of 6

"Perhaps you should dress for dinner, Clarice."

She moved closer to him and ran a hand up along his arm to settle at his shoulder.

"My appetites were running in a different vein, but if you insist..." she trailed off.

Lecter's arm encircled her waist and he drew her against him. His gaze locked with her own and his mouth brushed hers as he whispered, "Rest assured, My Dear, I intend to satisfy all of your appetites this evening." His tongue slipped out to run across her lips, the breath rushing out of her with an audible gasp, and then he was gone.

"I think the green tonight, Clarice," he said over his shoulder as he walked out of the room. She was left staring after him with an exasperated sigh.

When she came down to the sitting room just under an hour later, she was wearing a lovely gown... in a deep shade of red. He looked up as she entered, annoyance flashing in his eyes. When he spoke, however, his tone was pointedly neutral.

"I see you've decided to disregard my sartorial advice, My Dear."

"Somehow I was more in the mood for red this evening." She smiled sweetly. If he was feeling playful tonight, she certainly didn't want to disappoint him.

"Mmm..." Lecter stood and came toward her, holding her eyes as he closed the distance between them. His gaze swept over her, appraising, and he circled her slowly as he considered.

"I must admit, it is quite flattering."

His mouth at her ear. His voice a soft caress as his hands rested on her shoulders for a brief moment before trailing down along bare arms. He was impossibly close, but still his body came just short of touching hers.

She felt his mouth at the back of her neck, sharp teeth nipping at her skin. She whispered his name.

His hands moved to her waist and lingered there as his tongue traveled lazily up to her ear. The heat from his body tempted her, and she tried to press back into him, but he held her away. Clarice offered a frustrated groan but complied, and then his strong hands caressed her sides, moving up to cup her breasts through the crimson silk. She felt his breath hot on the side of her neck and then a light touch along the neckline of her gown. A soft sigh escaped her and she allowed her eyes to close.

"It's a shame, really."

His tone was enough to cause her eyes to snap open again even without the warning inherent in the comment.

"What is?" she asked warily.

She heard the fabric rip a moment before his voice reached her.

"It is a lovely gown, Clarice... and such a pity that you will be unable to wear it this evening. It appears to have a rather obvious tear in the bodice." Without warning, he pulled her back against him, fondling her exposed breast. "The effect is undeniably appealing..." A pause while his teeth captured her earlobe. "... but hardly appropriate for public display."

After another nibble at her ear, he stepped back. She spun around to face him, noting the smug satisfaction in his dark eyes. Anger and arousal battled for the upper hand for several long moments before she could manage to speak.

"Perhaps I should have opted for the green after all," she offered finally. There was a distinct edge to her voice, but she knew well enough not to antagonize him beyond the limits of his patience.

"Perhaps," he agreed. "Why don't you take a moment to change, My Dear?"

She nodded curtly and turned to leave the room.


"Yes?" A hand on the door frame, looking back over her shoulder.

"Do hurry, Love. We wouldn't want to lose our reservation."


Part 1 of 6

1 of 6 l 2 of 6 l 3 of 6 l 4 of 6 l 5 of 6 l 6 of 6

Copyright 2001, by Hannah

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Site Copyright 2001 by Loving Lecter - The Fan Fiction Site.

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No infringement of rights is intended and no profit, of any kind, is made.