Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lola
I bite my lip, unsure of what to say or how to process everything that just went down.
I was so sure everyone was going to ostracize me, at least while Hannibal wasn’t looking, but it wasn’t like that at all.
Okay, it was awkward in the beginning.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, and it put me on edge.
People were quiet around me, but I didn’t feel the same waves of hostility I usually did.
Instead, there was an odd sense of guilt in the air, and for once, it wasn’t mine.
When Razzle approached, I thought things were going to take a turn for the worse.
But Elmo was right there, making it clear to everyone whose back he has.
To say I was shocked dumb would be an understatement.
Hannibal’s reaction was less surprising, at least to me.
I know what kind of man he is, and despite our relationship not being a conventional one, the man is protective of me to a fault.
Hannibal makes me feel owned in a way that would have feminists around the world screaming.
Perhaps the most surprising thing is how much I like it.
Yeah, that might make me a fool, but I can’t find it in me to care.
If anything positive has come out of the last few years, it’s that I’ve become the queen of silver linings.
I look at him as he closes the door and tosses his keys on the side table I moved near the door for just that purpose.
“What’s that look for?” I startle, realizing I’m not being as discreet as I hoped.
“I’m just trying to work everything out.”
“What’s there to work out?” he questions, stalking toward me.
I back up out of instinct, my back colliding with the wall.
When I notice where I am, my heart skips a beat as memories assault me.
Hannibal presses me to the wall and starts kissing my neck, oblivious to there being anything wrong.
I try to open my mouth to tell him to stop, but I can’t get any air in my lungs.
Suddenly, it’s Driller’s hands pawing at me, and his mouth on my neck, and I’m waiting for the blow to my stomach…
but it never comes. I make a high-pitched keening noise, sounding like a wounded animal.
Hannibal yanks his head back, looking at my face.
Whatever he sees has him cursing up a storm as he swoops down, picks me up, and carries me over to the sofa.
He sits down with me in his lap and cups my face with his hands.
“Breathe for me, Lola,” he orders.
I try, I really do, but there just doesn’t seem to be any air in my lungs.
With my eyes filled with panic, I grab his cut and begin to ask him silently to help me.
Leaning forward, he puts his lips to mine and blows air into my mouth.
The move shocks me so much I take a startled breath.
“That’s it, doll. Now take another one.”
I do as he asks and suck in a lungful of air before slowly blowing it back out.
I keep doing it until I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out anymore.
All the while, Hannibal strokes his hand over my stomach, murmuring words of comfort to my son.
“Mama’s okay, Bubba. She’s got you and me to?—”
I lean forward and kiss him, stealing the words from the man who is quickly stealing my heart.
“Thank you.” I breathe against his mouth, tasting the salt of my tears.
“Doll,” he growls, the sound making my nipples pebble.
He’s hard beneath me, and a part of me knows it’s because of my tears.
As much as he doesn’t like me hurting, he can’t help that he gets off on it.
As fucked-up as I am, can I hold his quirks against him, when he doesn’t blink when my issues spill over?
“I want you to fuck me.”
He wraps his hand in my hair and yanks my head back, licking the trail of tears from my cheek.
“Be very sure, Lola. I won’t be gentle, and if you’re feeling fragile?—
“I want you to break me, Hannibal.
”
With a snarl, he has me up and off his lap as he rips my clothes to shreds.
Standing before him naked, I feel vulnerable and anxious, but I’m not afraid.
Maybe everything I went through with Driller was fate’s way of making me strong or readying me for Hannibal.
I know how to dance with monsters.
I’ve learned the steps and remember the tune as I slip into the role required of me.
Only this time it’s on my terms.
“So pretty,” Hannibal speaks, his voice as cold as frost as his monster slips the reins and takes over.
He takes his scalpel from his cut and drags the flat edge of it across my skin.
“I’ve pictured laying in a pool of blood while I fuck you. Your eyes are glazed over, staring sightlessly at the ceiling as I move inside you.”
I swallow hard, my blood rushing through my veins as the urge to flee takes hold.
I fist my hands and hold my ground.
He’s testing me, seeing how far he can push before I break.
“Does it have to be my blood?”
He grins.
The smile is off though, making him look manic.
“Not if you have another victim in mind. Tell me, doll, whose blood you would bathe in, and I’ll make it happen.”
I don’t know if he’s serious.
If I’m being truthful with myself, I’m inclined to think he is.
I only want one person’s blood enough to give Hannibal free rein.
“Driller. I’d let you fuck me in a pool of Driller’s blood.”
“Hmm…” he murmurs, laying the scalpel on the cushion beside me.
He reaches into his cut, pulling out a knife with a black handle.
He moves behind me and drags the tip of the blade down my spine.
I freeze, trying to regulate my breathing, but it comes out in soft pants.
If fear had a smell, the room would be flooded with it.
“Will you let me fuck you with this knife, pretty doll?”
I squeeze my eyes shut as the blade travels over the curve of my ass.
“Open your legs,” he whispers in my ear, a sound full of menace, promising nothing but pain.
And still, I do as he asks.
I must be as sick in the head as he is.
I hear him moving before I feel his warm breath blow over my ass, and I realize he’s on the coffee table between my legs.
“Bend over, elbows on the sofa cushions.”
Slowly, I obey, the position putting my ass in his face.
He takes a deep breath before he groans.
I won’t be able to hold this position for long, but for now, I’m stable enough if he decides to fuck me.
It’s not his dick I feel at the entrance of my slick pussy.
It’s something hard and cold.
I freeze, fear rendering me immobile even as I feel my arousal drip down my thighs.
“Such a pretty canvas. I’m going to fuck you with the hilt because you’ve been a good girl. But cross me, and I’ll cut you to ribbons, little girl.”
“I won’t cross you. We’re a team.”
He pauses for a moment.
It gives me a burst of courage, knowing he’s as affected by me as I am by him, and neither of us has any idea what to do with it.
“After I fuck you, I’m going to draw pretty patterns on your skin. Maybe I’ll even carve my name,” he taunts as the knife handle slowly slips inside me.
I send up a silent prayer of thanks that he’s using his hunting knife and not the scalpel.
I lose my train of thought when he starts stroking my clit with the other hand.
“You like that? You like being my little fuck doll? You’ll do anything I say, won’t you?”
I whimper when he pulls the knife out to the tip before thrusting back inside me again.
The sound spurs him on, making his thrusts harder and faster.
He takes turns stroking, pinching, and slapping my clit until I’m sobbing with need and begging him for relief.
“Please, Hannibal. Please, I need to come,” I cry, tears soaking the cushion beneath me.
“And what will you give me?”
“Anything!” I howl.
“Then come, doll. Come and let me collect my prize.”
He pinches my clit hard, making me scream as I come.
My legs buckle, but he moves with me, still fucking me with the handle as he lowers me to the floor.
Once I’m spent, he pulls the knife free before dragging the tip up my back.
I feel the sharp pinch of pain, and I know he’s broken the skin.
I hiss, but I don’t fight him, letting him have his moment before his tongue is sliding over the cuts he just made, drinking me down like the freaking psycho he is.
“You taste so fucking good,” he groans.
I hear a thread of warmth in his voice once more, as the monster slowly retreats.
“Turn around for me, doll.”
I turn slowly and sit on my ass with my back to the sofa.
He takes in my expression, his eyes roving over every inch of my face as he reads me.
“Okay?”
I don’t have any words, so I nod.
“Good. Because now it’s my turn. You said I could have anything I wanted.”
He stands and strips out of his clothes, taking everything off, only to slip his cut back on again once he’s naked.
“You’re going to lean your head back and take your president’s cock down your throat. I’m going to fuck it until I come, so you better hope I come before you pass out. But don’t worry, I know how to revive you if I need to.”
I blink, wondering if I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.
He doesn’t give me time to back out, though.
He steps over me, straddling my body as he leans over.
“Lean back, open your mouth, and let me in.” His voice is sharp, his command unyielding.
“Yes, Mr. President.”
His lips twitch for the briefest second before I open my mouth and take him in.
He doesn’t ease me into it.
He just glides his cock in as far as it will go and stares into my eyes.
“Relax your throat and let me in.”
I try.
It’s not the easiest thing in the world to do when you’re pregnant and your gag reflex is not what it used to be.
He thrusts forward, filling my throat and making me gag.
Tears drip down my face as he holds himself still.
I’m on the verge of panic when he pulls back.
I cough, sucking in deep breaths, wiping my face with the back of my hand before he’s ready once more.
“Take a deep breath.”
I nod and do just that before opening my mouth.
He doesn’t waste time.
He shoves his cock as far down my throat as he can before grabbing handfuls of my hair to anchor me in place.
He starts rapidly thrusting, my body nothing more than a vessel to get him off.
“So fucking good,” he snarls as I grip his legs, my nails biting into his skin as I become lightheaded.
He gives me a moment’s reprieve before he’s fucking my mouth and throat again.
Just when I think I can’t take anymore, he thrusts forward, his groin almost flush with my face as I feel him throb.
“Fuck yes. That’s it, doll. Just like that.”
I shake, needing to breathe, but he holds me tighter until I go limp in his arms. He pulls his cock out as I gasp for air and finishes on my chest.
When I finally have my breathing under control, I look up at him through damp lashes.
I must look like a fucking wreck.
He’s sitting on the coffee table, watching me with a blank expression, but I can detect a hint of wariness.
I bite my lip before I grin.
And then before I know it, I’m laughing—great belly laughs that make my boobs jiggle and my boy twist in annoyance.
“You okay?”
I nod, still laughing, but eventually I get my shit together.
“Do I get a sticker?”
“Huh?” He looks bemused as he reaches down and eases me to my feet.
“I faced the monster and survived. I want a damn sticker.”
It’s his turn to laugh as he buries his face in my neck.
I feel his whole body relax as we stand there, soaking each other in.
It isn’t until I start shivering that he pulls back.
“Let’s get you in the shower and cleaned up.”
I lean on him when he wraps his arm around me and guides me upstairs.
I don’t think about that damn spot in the hallway as we pass it.
All I think about is how oddly sated I feel.
He runs the shower for me, and after stripping out of his cut, he ushers me in and climbs in behind me.
He washes every inch of my body before moving on to my hair.
By the time he’s finished, I’m half asleep and feeling boneless.
Wrapping me in a towel, he dries me off before walking me to the bed.
I climb in while he heads back downstairs naked to make sure the house is locked up.
I murmur his name when he climbs in next to me and wraps his arms around my body, one hand cupping my breast, the other holding my stomach.
If he answers, I don’t hear him.
I don’t hear anything until the phone rings hours later, jarring me awake.
I squint my eyes at the clock and see that it’s seven a.m., not nearly as early as it feels.
“Okay, thanks for letting me know. We’ll be ready.” He ends the call before leaning forward, his forearms on his thighs as he hangs his head.
Immediately alert, I sit up and move behind him, sliding my hand over his shoulder.
“Hannibal?”
His hand covers mine as he speaks.
“That was the nurse. Melissa died an hour ago.”