Surrender

A new fanfic, inspired by LecterGrrl's story Obsession. Told from the POV of Clarice Starling. Rated NC-17.

Disclaimer: The characters of Clarice Starling and Dr. Hannibal Lecter are the exclusive property of Thomas Harris.

Dr. Lecter, where have you gone?

Are you enjoying your freedom, away from the cages and restraints that boxed you in, so long ago? Are you enjoying the fresh air, the sightseeing, the new life you now call your own?

And do you think about me...

Do you think about the day I first came to talk to you in Baltimore...the day you began opening my eyes to the person I really am? Do you think about how you avenged me after Miggs threw come on my face?

Oh, yes, I know why you did it...

Do you think about the Hester Mofet riddle, about how I found Benjamin Raspail? Do you think about Jack Crawford's Plum Island con, the one we both fell for?

Do you think about Dr. Chilton at all...do you think about how terribly he treated us? All he wanted to do was fuck me...his treatment of you was far more degrading. And although I said nothing at the time, it broke my heart.

It still does.

Do you think about the day you left...the day you began your life anew? Do you think about me, Dr. Lecter...

Do you think about us?

I haven't stopped thinking about you since that first day. I haven't stopped dreaming about you since that first day. I haven't stopped yearning for you since that first day.

I can feel the surge of electricity when I think about your voice...edgy at times, but controlled. As soft and tender as the caress of lovers. Even now, I can still hear your voice...

I can feel the deepest of warmths when I think about your eyes...the beautiful, sensual pools of blue and violet, with little red pinpoints of light when they sparkle. I can still feel your eyes in my mind, and I hope I can enjoy looking into them again...

I can feel my body turn into fire when I think about your touch...how your finger brushed, ever so softly, against my hand, awakening me in a way no other man ever could. Awakening me in a way no other man ever will.

The lambs have stopped screaming, but I haven't...

And it's not from having nightmares...

Every night, I see you. Every day, I see you. I don't know where you are, but I see you. Most of all, Dr. Lecter, I can feel you.

I can feel your eyes washing over me, holding my gaze as if you were holding me in your arms.

I can feel your hands fully, can feel them touching me, caressing me, causing me to teeter over the edge.

I can feel your lips, I can feel you kissing me...kissing me all over. I can feel your tongue force its way into my mouth with sexual hunger, I can feel your mouth opening and crushing hard against mine...I can feel your kisses move downward, passing hotly over my neck...my shoulders...my breasts...further down.

Down there...

When you begin kissing me in my most secret of places, that's when I start screaming...screaming with the unholiest pleasure I've ever felt, my body moving with your mouth.

I can feel your body as you hold me, cradle me, caress me, in the sleepscapes of our passion.

I can feel you inside me, giving me what others have only dreamed about...

I can feel you making love to me, when I lie down to sleep and when I wake up, and I don't want you to stop.

I can hear myself screaming your name when I feel my orgasms, and they feel so good...

I can hear you screaming my name as your orgasm explodes deep inside me, I can feel you so very deep inside me, and it feels so good...

I can feel your arms around me when we collapse, tired, sweaty, and satisfied.

I can feel your heart beating when I lay against your chest...I can smell your sweet scent, also. Is it the cologne you wear, or is it your natural man-musk that fills my nostrils and smells so good...

I can feel you holding me as we drift off to sleep...

Dr. Lecter...Hannibal...where have you gone?

Do you have any idea what you've done, how you've helped me change?

I don't wear cheap shoes anymore. I'm not using L'Air du Temps or Avyan skin cream anymore. I'm not a "hustling rube" anymore.

I'm not at all sane anymore, either, if you can call the girl who was, at one time, "one generation removed from poor white trash" sane.

Where are you, Hannibal?

Do you realize what's happening to me? I'm not sure I do myself...but I'm not going to grieve.

All I know is, with every single breath I take, I desire you. I want you. I hunger for you.

I love you.

It's taken me seven years to come to this point...I doubt it took you that long. But I'm not lying, Hannibal...nor do I plan to ever again.

I love you.

Wherever you are, I love you.

THE END.

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