Rude (Choose Your Own Adventure)

Chapter 37

Hannibal seems rather put out about your reference to strangled cats. To distract him, you stand in front of him and slowly unbutton your blouse. One button, then the next, until your top slips off your shoulders and pools around your waist.

He nods, slightly. 'And your bra.'

You unfasten your bra, never losing eye contact with him. When his gaze dips to look at your naked chest, you know that strangled cats are the furthest thing from his mind.

Hannibal sits in his leather armchair, near the fire. There is a decanter on the table at his elbow; he pours a measure of whiskey into a crystal glass, and takes a lingering sip.

'Your skirt, now,' he says. 'Take your time. We have all night.'

Slowly, piece by piece, you disrobe for him. His eyes follow every movement you make. At times, he issues orders in his exotic accent: More slowly. Turn around. Let me see you. Show me.

His control is complete. It makes your heart pound and your mouth dry.

Finally, you are naked before him. 'Come to me,' he says.

You stand in front of him. He passes you the glass of whiskey, warmed by the fire and his hands. 'Let me taste it from you,' he says.

You dribble the liquid down your body. Hannibal leans forward and licks it. He pulls you down on to him so that he can capture every last drop.

You take a sip and hold it in your mouth so that he can kiss you and drink it from you. You dip your fingers in the glass and drip the whiskey down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt and kissing the alcohol from his skin.

You feel drugged, and yet wonderful. He lifts you and positions you on top of him and surges inside you. It feels as though he penetrates you to the depths of your soul.

Afterwards, he lifts you and puts your limp and sated body into his bed. He removes the rest of his clothes and crawls in beside you, pulling your head to rest on his chest.

'I have so much to show you,' he murmurs, stroking your hair. 'So much for you to learn.'

As you drift into contented sleep, the thought occurs to you that this sounds as much like a threat as a promise. But you can't summon the energy, or the will, to care.

THE END...is it a happy one? You decide...