18. Reuniting

‘Tell me again why we must attend this tedious country gathering,’ grumbled Mason, as the carriage bumped along the driveway leading up to Price Lodge.

‘Now, Mason,’ tutted Margot, smoothing out the folds of her cream muslin gown. ‘You know very well why. The Prices are intimate acquaintances of Alana’s family, and it was very good of them to invite us. If only Hannibal would stop frowning, I am sure we would all have a most enjoyable evening.’

‘I fail to understand why I am here at all,’ snapped Hannibal, a little more loudly than he had intended.

Mrs Cordell shot him a startled look, and Mr Cordell jerked awake with a muttered exclamation.

‘You are here to support me,’ replied Margot sweetly, although her eyes glittered with determination. ‘As you promised.’

As he had promised. But after three days and nights of agitation and sleeplessness, Hannibal was almightily tempted to say the devil with promises.

Three days. Of replaying over and over Will’s accusing words: ‘I am not some weak little Omegan doll to be soothed and pacified. I will not live my life being fed half truths and platitudes.’

Lingering hurt and anger mingled now with self-doubt. Had he really treated Will so? Margot had been blunt on the subject when she had finally prised from him the details of their last conversation.

‘You love fiercely, Hannibal, and you are used to protecting those you love. But marriage is about partnership. Will Graham is your equal, and if you wish to marry him then you must be prepared to share with him every aspect of your life, for good and ill.’

He was still mulling this over as they were shown through to the drawing room, where the carpet had been rolled back and a vigorous dance was taking place.

‘Welcome, welcome!’ Sir James was upon them in an instant, all smiles and vigorous handshakes. ‘Please, do partake of a cup of rum punch.’

‘Just one?’ muttered Mason.

But luckily, Sir James had moved on to greet the next batch of guests.

Hannibal had not taken many steps into the room before he sensed Will’s presence. The boy’s scent rose above all others, sweeter than ever; and forgetting instantly that he had vowed to ignore the Omega, should their paths happen to cross, he looked about him with a hunger he could not contain.

It was a large gathering, and typically raucous, a cacophony of lively chatter clashing with the vibrant notes of a Scotch reel. Hannibal scanned the line of dancers, and his breath caught as he spied Will, whirling and grinning, at the furthest end. He did not recognise the gentleman with whom Will was dancing, but his ire rose at once. Here he was, agonising still over the fractious manner of their parting, while it appeared that Will was entirely unaffected.

He debated whether to turn around and leave, promises be damned. But in the next moment, the reel ended, and the trio of musicians struck up the unmistakable strains of a waltz.

At once, a hushed murmur ran through the guests. Several of the older partners left the dance at once, some shooting disapproving looks at Sir James, who appeared to be enjoying the reactions to such a controversial choice. Their ranks were quickly filled by a merry group of younger people, and Hannibal smiled as he watched Margot approach Miss Graham, happiness radiating from both as they took their places in the set. But his smile faded when he saw that Will was still in the company of the attractive gentleman who had partnered him in the reel.

Will heaved an inward sigh as he contemplated yet another half hour of utter boredom. Why, he could not even recall the Alpha’s name, yet here he was stranded with the tedious man! It was all Beverly’s fault.

‘You simply must come, Will. For once I enter my confinement it will be impossible for me to attend such gatherings, and then I will hardly see you for the longest time!’

And so he had come, and been thoroughly miserable for the first hour. Until, exasperated beyond measure, Beverly had introduced him to Mr Whatever-his-name-was from such-and-such a place. Reluctant to socialise, yet living in fear of Hannibal’s imminent arrival and anxious to be occupied when it occurred, Will had accepted with reluctance the man’s mumbled invitation to dance, fixed a determined smile upon his face and entered the fray.

He was contemplating refusing the Alpha’s hand for this second dance when a very familiar scent pulled from him a tiny whimper; and in equal parts dread and delight, he looked around to find Hannibal stalking towards them, face grimly set.

Will adopted his most truculent air as Hannibal stopped in front of them, bowed peremptorily and, narrowed golden eyes fixed squarely on Will, said shortly, ‘I believe this is my dance.’

As annoyed as Will still was, this open show of possessiveness tugged at his heart, and he found himself throwing to his bemused former partner a half-hearted apology. Still, as the crestfallen man shuffled away, Will waited several more moments before accepting the hand of his infuriating Alpha with the tiniest of smirks.

Nevertheless, his first words as they joined the set were sharp and to the point.

‘You are an ass.’

Hannibal looked back at him with hauteur.

‘Because I claim the right to dance with you?’

His raised hand closed around Will’s, the other settling on his waist, and Will’s breath hitched as he was pulled closer. The sweet, plaintive melody of the Sussex Waltz filled the air, the world shrinking to just the two of them, and as they moved in time together he had to focus on breathing. Every brush of their thighs sparked through him, and his fingers tightened on Hannibal’s shoulder.

‘Because you are, as always, unconscionably high-handed.’

Hannibal regarded him broodingly. ‘I suppose that you require an apology.’

‘Not if you do not mean it,’ Will flashed back.

A crease appeared between Hannibal’s brows. ‘Never have I considered you weak. Or a doll. In fact, I have never known anyone less doll-like. Your hair is untameable, your complexion is not pale enough to be considered fashionable, and you roam habitually about the countryside half-dressed.’

Indignation rising, Will began to pull away, only for the air to leave his lungs in a great whoosh as Hannibal tugged him back and whispered against his temple, ‘You are, however, entirely beautiful, Will Graham. And I will not apologise for thinking that.’

Will missed a step, stumbled against the Alpha’s lean body and clutched on more tightly.

‘Do not say such things when I am endeavouring to concentrate,’ he hissed. ‘Besides, it is your insistence on keeping secrets that I chiefly object to. Manipulations, however benign, are manipulations still.’

‘A fair point.’

Will leaned back, eyeing Hannibal suspiciously.

‘Then you admit that you were in the wrong?’

A slight inclination of the head signalled assent. ‘Though my intentions were entirely honourable.’

‘I know that, Hannibal.’

‘Then we are friends again?’

Friends. Ignoring the ache in his chest, Will ventured a smile. Still...

‘No more secrets,’ he warned. ‘We have to be on equal terms, Hannibal.’

‘You have my word.’

There was no triumph in Hannibal’s voice, only a husky relief that Will felt as if it was his own.

‘Then yes, we are friends again.’

They danced on. But the longer they danced, the more that insidious ache grew. Was this, then, to be their end? Friendship with Hannibal Lecter was, admittedly, no small thing. But after all they had shared, could it ever be enough?

‘You dance with natural grace. Have ever I told you that?’

Will laughed a trifle breathlessly as he was swung into a series of turns.

‘I believe that the last time we talked of dancing, it was to declare that neither of us found it interesting.’

‘It was you who said that,’ Hannibal reminded him, a glint of humour in his eyes. ‘I merely agreed with you.’

‘A rare occasion.’

‘In the earliest days of our acquaintance, certainly. But I hope not now.’

A new hope trembled between them. Hannibal felt its tentative grasp as something infinitely precious; and when the gong sounded for dinner and couples began drifting from the floor, his hand lingered on Will’s waist.

‘We never did have our outing the other day. I should like to remedy that.’

Will’s expression was cautious but by no means discouraging.

‘What do you propose?’

‘What say you to an angling expedition?’

The raised brows which this statement prompted roused no little irritation, as did Will’s amused exclamation.

‘Angling? You?’

‘I have been known to indulge in the sport on occasion,’ replied Hannibal, adding dryly, ‘I do not keep the lakes at Ravenstag well stocked merely for show. And it is an opportune time for carp fishing, is not it?’

‘Well, yes.’

‘Then I shall call for you at first light tomorrow. If, that is, you have no other engagements.’

‘At first light? No, I have no other engagements.’

Will smiled properly then, a light-hearted grin that lit up his eyes and made Hannibal wish fervently that morning would arrive with all possible speed.

***

At dinner, to Hannibal’s gratification, they were seated directly opposite each other; and all through the soup course, which was conducted in relative silence, he took the opportunity to study covertly the face and form of his beloved. What made Will the more beautiful? he pondered. Those dark-fringed eyes of ever-changing shades of blue, or the intelligence that sparked therein? The sensuous bow of a mouth that no artifice of shade could ever hope to emulate, or the wry quirk that so often curved it? The coal-black sheen of thick curls that he had seen many a woman cast envious glances at, or their habitual careless rumpling?

It was a question that he could have dwelt happily on for hours, but inevitably the presence of other people soon proved irksomely distracting. After the soup dishes were cleared, Mr Franklyn leaned across the table to help himself to partridge and gestured at Will with his spoon.

‘Tell me, dear cousin, when will you be joining your uncle’s practice in London?’

It could have been Hannibal’s imagination, but he fancied that Will flicked a glance his way before turning his attention to his cousin.

‘Mr and Mrs Crawford will be spending Christmas with us at Wolf Manor, and I shall accompany them back to London afterwards.’

‘I imagine that you are looking forward to beginning work. It is a very good thing for a young man to have active employment.’ Mr Franklyn smiled benignly. ‘And, of course, being unencumbered by attachments, you shall be able to devote yourself wholeheartedly to your occupation.’

Clearly his aunt had wasted no time before deploying her envoy, thought Hannibal with grim amusement. Mrs Franklyn, seated on Will’s right, looked anything but amused.

‘My dear,’ she said, in tones which brooked no opposition, ‘I am sure you will agree that business hardly precludes matrimony!’

Mr Franklyn’s face was suddenly a picture of mortification. Perhaps, after all, his wife’s opinion was of at least equal import as that of his formidable patroness.

‘Oh, dearest, of course not! Cousin Will, I hope sincerely that I have not offended you.’

‘Not at all, Mr Franklyn. Please, do not give it another thought.’

Yet for all his words of reassurance, Will looked hardly less embarrassed; and although he darted a grateful sideways look at his friend, he thereafter kept his eyes fixed steadfastly on the contents of his plate.

***

‘Well, gentlemen,’ announced Lady Price, as at length the last of the dessert dishes was removed, ‘we shall leave you to your port.’

‘Ah, yes,’ beamed Mr Franklyn. ‘Although, of course, we shall not neglect you dear ladies for long.’

‘Oh, I daresay we shall bear the loss for an hour or so,’ remarked his wife, although she smiled at him fondly enough.

‘A few hands of vingt-un will help pass the time,’ added Margot mischievously.

This raised at last a smile from Will. ‘I think, on reflection, I prefer your choice of entertainment, Miss Verger.’

Hannibal stiffened. Of course, as an Omega, Will was free to choose - an enviable position, for sure - but if it meant that once again he was running away...

‘Although,’ continued Will, eyes sliding in Hannibal’s direction almost as if he had read his thoughts, ‘as I am in good company here as well, I think that I shall linger a while.’

***

Unfortunately, any enjoyment that Hannibal might have derived from this situation was quickly obliterated. For having made rather freely with the wine at dinner, Mason waited barely moments after the ladies had departed before launching into a tedious and ill-conceived diatribe against His Majesty’s armed forces.

‘Why they prefer to sit on their backsides and polish their brass buttons, rather than engaging with the enemy and wiping him out once and for all, I cannot fathom!’

‘By him, I presume you mean Bonaparte?’ clipped Will, rocking back in his chair and eyeing Mason with undisguised dislike.

Mason shrugged and beckoned for a refill.

‘To be sure, Bonaparte is the head of the snake; but a Frenchie is a Frenchie, whatever their position.’

‘Really, Mason,’ rapped out Hannibal. ‘You forget yourself. To generalise about an entire population is, to say the least, narrow-minded.’

Mason pooh-poohed the notion, downed his umpteenth glass and helped himself with an unsteady hand to yet another.

‘By all accounts,’ commented Sir James soberly, ‘the Russians have the French army on the run in any case.’

‘And we could have had some good, funny times helping them!’

At this, the faces of all those present wore expressions ranging from mild amusement – as in the case of Mr Graham – to the outright indignation of his son. And by the time the port supply was exhausted, so too was Hannibal’s patience.

‘Sir James, Mr Verger is unwell. I think it best that I escort him back to Muskrat Hall,’ he announced grimly, as Mason lolled, grinning, on his chair.

‘Yes, yes, of course.’ Sir James nodded vigorously. ‘That is much the best plan. I shall make your excuses to the ladies, and the rest of your party may borrow our carriage to return home.’

‘Most uncouth,’ sniffed Mr Franklyn.

And really, Hannibal could not but agree.

***

With the help of Will and Mr Graham, he manoeuvred Mason outside and into their carriage.

‘Thank you. I am grateful to you both.’ Pushing back the hair which flopped over his forehead, he cast a withering glance at the man now slumped snoring against the far window. ‘At least there is now an end to his rhetoric.’

‘Yes, but he may prove troublesome to move at the other end,’ observed Mr Graham. ‘Will, why do not you accompany Mr Lecter back to Muskrat Hall and lend a hand?’

‘Why, I –’

‘An excellent notion,’ interrupted Hannibal, lest the nonplussed boy should protest. ‘And you shall, of course, stay the night.’

‘You can walk home in the morning,’ pronounced Mr Graham cheerfully. ‘Or send for the carriage if the weather proves inclement.’

‘No need,’ Hannibal said smoothly. ‘We had, in any event, planned a fishing expedition for tomorrow. I can deliver Mr Graham home afterwards.’

‘Well, then. It seems that all is well in hand.’

There was a definite twinkle in Mr Graham’s eye as he patted his son’s shoulder and walked away.

‘So it does.’

Will’s expression was unreadable, and for an instant Hannibal feared that the stubborn Omega would simply walk away from this further example of his ‘high-handedness’. But after several moments of silent contemplation, Will climbed into the carriage. And releasing his breath, Hannibal quickly followed suit.

***

Of course, the plentiful supply of servants falling over themselves to help the ‘ailing’ Mr Verger to his room immediately made a complete nonsense of Will’s presence at Muskrat Hall. But what cared he for that when amber eyes caressed his face and the very air between them hummed with anticipation as they sat across from each other in the drawing room, sipping hot Negus?

‘I am sorry that I took you from your friends.’

‘Are you?’

Will offered a teasing smile and Hannibal’s eyes darkened.

‘In truth, no. But perhaps you are?’

Slowly, Will shook his head. ‘Besides, you did not take me anywhere. I came because I chose to.’

‘And for that I am very grateful.’

Then why are you still sitting so far away?

‘Hannibal.’ Will could hear the ache in his own voice, but desperation had finally overridden pride. ‘Come here. Please.’

His voice cracked on the final word and instantly Hannibal was on his feet. Crossing with swift steps, he knelt before Will and plucked the goblet from his fingers. He placed both drinks on the floor, turned back and regarded Will gravely.

‘Tell me.’

Will squirmed beneath the penetrating gaze. ‘Must I? Is not it clear enough?’

‘Will.’ Gentle hands cupped his jaw, a thumb tracing the line of his lower lip. ‘As in tune as I believe we are, I cannot read your mind. Tell me.’

Will shifted forward to bury his face in the crook of Hannibal’s neck and looped trembling arms around his shoulders. Surrounded by his lover’s heat and scent and strength, he felt afresh the pain of their separation and the months of uncertainty that had followed. Longing to speak his heart, he found that the words simply would not come. Until he felt an answering tremor pass through Hannibal’s frame, and the Alpha pulled him fully into his embrace.

‘Will,’ he murmured achingly, a kiss of breath against his neck. ‘Will.’

He does still love me. He does.

The realisation filled him with joy and fresh courage. Pressing close, Will rested his chin on Hannibal’s shoulder and spoke softly.

‘Firstly, I find that I am a very selfish creature; for no matter how irksome it is to you, I must again thank you for your kindness to my youngest sister. It pains me more than I can say that my family knows nothing of it.’

Hannibal sighed. ‘If you will thank me, tiresome boy, let it be for yourself alone. Much as I respect your family, I believe I thought only of you.’ The next moment, Will felt soft lips against his cheek. ‘Secondly?’

Heart full, Will choked, ‘Secondly, I do not wish us to be friends.’

‘Oh? Why not?’

He pulled back at this, eyes fierce. ‘Because if we were, I could not do this.’

And clasping Hannibal’s face between his hands, he took the Alpha’s mouth. Hannibal shuddered and opened to him immediately. They kissed deeply and they kissed long, hands roaming freely.

Feverish with want, Will pushed Hannibal back to lie atop him on the burgundy carpet. Kiss after tender kiss he bestowed, fingers working deftly to work free knots and buttons. His lips followed the path laid bare by his hands, and he felt with satisfaction Hannibal’s harsh inhale as he brushed lightly across the apex of his lover’s thighs. Overcome suddenly with emotion, he stopped and pressed his cheek against the warm skin of Hannibal’s stomach, arms sliding possessively around his waist.

‘It has been so long,’ he groaned. ‘All those months apart, I longed for you, Hannibal. Ached for you.’

He felt Hannibal’s fingers stroking lightly through his hair, and pushed into the touch.

‘I too. Every moment, Will.’

Will looked up, eyes fierce. ‘I do not wish to be parted from you again.’

‘Nor I, you.’

Every note of softness in Hannibal’s voice, every tender glance, was balm to the soreness in Will’s heart. He groaned.

‘We have both been entirely stupid.’

Laughter coloured Hannibal’s voice. ‘I know of at least three people who would agree emphatically with that assessment.’

‘As do I.’ Will grinned, chin propped on Hannibal’s stomach. ‘It seems that we were the last to know.’

‘And now that we do?’

‘Well, since you ask…’

Boldly, Will wriggled down to kneel between Hannibal’s legs, hands parting them wide. Hardly knowing what he was doing, driven only by the need to reclaim the Alpha as his own, he bent his head to mouth softly against the bulge straining the front of Hannibal’s breeches.

A low growl rumbled through Hannibal’s chest. ‘Enough, wicked boy.’

Will flicked his eyes upward. ‘You would deny me?’

‘I would deny you nothing. Rather, I would give you everything.’ And then, in a tone that sent shivers of delight through Will, ‘In my bed, with nothing between us.’

‘But what if I do not want to move?’

Eyes glinting, Hannibal sat up and tugged Will back into his lap. Will endeavoured to pout; but to his secret delight, Hannibal kissed the mulish expression from his face.

‘I would not wish us to be observed by a passing servant, or by Mason, should he awaken. But there is something which I do want, very much.’

‘Oh? And what might that be?’

Will’s reluctant smile was met with another series of slow kisses, and both were decidedly flushed when finally Hannibal broke off to answer.

‘You, my teasing Will. I want you, within me.’

As intimate as they had been during those few precious days at Ravenstag, this was new ground. And Will was consumed suddenly by the desire to lose himself within the hot darkness of his lover. His breath hitched.

‘Hannibal, oh yes. Yes, please.’

***

Furtive, dishevelled, they made their way upstairs, hands tightly clasped, a candle purloined from the drawing room lighting their way. Brimming with needful impatience, Will could barely wait until they were inside the richly-furnished bed chamber before dropping to his knees and pulling Hannibal towards him.

‘I want to see you.’

A half-smile crooked Hannibal’s lips, and he trailed gentle fingers down Will’s cheek.

‘Then see me.’

This Will remembered well, and blissful tears slipped down his cheeks as he bared Hannibal to worshipful lips and tongue. Fingers burrowed into his hair, clutching tight, guiding and encouraging as warm, firm flesh pulsed and jerked beneath his attentions. But before long, he was tugged up and drawn back onto the bed.

‘Come, bewitching boy. I would have you inside me.’

And, oh, what joy to touch and scent and kiss. To bare them both completely and bring to writhing ecstasy, with fingers and tongue, the man who had, so many times during Will’s heat, done as much for him. Pinning the Alpha beneath him, caging him between strong thighs, Will peered at the slender glass bottle which Hannibal had pushed into his hand, and raised his eyebrows.

‘Should I ask why you have such a thing in your possession?’

This provoked another rumble of laughter. ‘We are not all blessed with your biology, Will.’

Will glared, red-cheeked. ‘You know perfectly well what I meant.’

But urgent want outweighed his desire to chastise, and carefully he removed the stopper to pour a little of the thick liquid into his cupped palm. He paused then and glanced anxiously at Hannibal.

‘Do I – is it as we –‘

It was absurd to feel suddenly shy; but as Will stumbled over the words, Hannibal reached for the bottle.

‘As we did before? Yes, my Will. Here, I shall show you.’

Pulse thrumming with delight at the endearments Hannibal was strewing like petals, Will forgot instantly his awkwardness. He watched, mesmerised, the languid demonstration, eager fingers taking over at Hannibal’s throaty instruction. And when at last he thrust deep his own oil-slicked sex, and Hannibal arched up with a groan, the pleasure was as nothing Will had ever known.

‘I feel you,’ he panted, withdrawing slowly and gripping Hannibal’s hips before pushing back in, ‘so warm and tight around me. How do I feel to you?’

Cheekbones smeared with colour, Hannibal curled a hand around Will’s nape and tugged him down for a kiss.

‘As if you are a part of me,’ came the reverent whisper against his lips.

‘Yes.’ Moving with ever-increasing urgency, Will strained closer, almost delirious in his need. ‘Yes, that was how it was for me. And I want – H-Hannibal, I want –‘

But his release tore through him before he could frame the words, his choked cries pressed into Hannibal’s skin.

They lay together, breathing as one, until it grew uncomfortably warm and sticky between them, and gently Will withdrew. He flung himself on his back beside Hannibal and pushed his hands through sweat-damp hair.

‘I would like very much to do that again someday.’

The deep, rich chuckle which this declaration provoked filled him with happiness, as did Hannibal’s murmured response.

‘I must say I find that notion most agreeable.’

Rolling onto his side, Will propped himself up on one elbow. ‘But I find myself wanting something else even more.’

‘Oh?’

‘Mm.’

He reached out with his free hand and pushed back the golden strands that had fallen across Hannibal’s eyes. His fingers traced the contours of his lover’s noble face, then down the strong column of his neck, and across his hair-dusted chest to play idly with his nipples. He had discovered at Ravenstag how much this pleasured Hannibal, and eagerly now he reclaimed the privilege. As the Alpha’s breathing became more uneven, Will leaned across him and replaced fingers with tongue, suckling with greedy relish. A fist in his hair tugged at him not ungently, and he blinked up slowly into eyes blown black as polished onyx.

‘Wait, my impatient Alpha. I am not near done.’

How he treasured the moans that were ripped from Hannibal when his hand drifted down to encircle the hot, hard length that jerked at his touch. And he felt his own arousal reignite as he flicked out his tongue to tease and taste.

Large hands clamped suddenly around his upper arms, and Will grinned as he found himself once again on his back. It was Hannibal’s turn now to loom over him, teeth bared.

‘You are exceptionally wicked.’

‘Am I?’ He cocked an insouciant brow. ‘What is to be done about that?’

‘I wonder.’ Ruthless fingers sought his core. ‘So very wet for me.’

Will keened and pushed into the touch. ‘Hannibal.’

Hannibal hummed, intoxicated by the sweet scent and sensuous writhing of his Omega.

‘Is this what you want?’

‘Y-yes.’

A fingertip traced the slick rim and dipped inside.

Will gasped. ‘Again.’

On impulse, Hannibal bent his head to pleasure with his tongue Will’s body – nipples red and pebbled, the slit of his swollen sex, his slick-drenched entrance. To feast again upon his love. It filled him with fierce satisfaction and he savoured every fretful sound, every high-pitched cry.

And wanted more.

‘Are you ready for me, Will?’

In reply, Will rolled onto his front and tilted his hips in wanton show. And reverently, Hannibal knelt, grasping with infinite gentleness Will’s slender waist, and pressing in. And it was as exquisite as the first time and all the times that had followed. Silken walls clutched and squeezed, fragrant slick easing the way. Will gasped and panted and undulated against him.

‘You feel so good.’ His voice sounded clogged with tears. ‘I have missed this. I have missed you.’

Curving over him, Hannibal buried his nose in Will’s sweat-sweet curls. There was so much that he wished to say, and words of love trembled on his tongue.

I shall never again leave you. I adore you.

But this new accord was fragile, as yet untested. Once before, he had spoken of love when neither had been ready. What heartbreak had then followed. How foolish he would be to commit such an error a second time. And so Hannibal swallowed the tender declarations. Better rather to show his devotion with hands and lips, to worship Will with his body.

As they moved together, his thrusts quickened, pleasure building in waves, though when he felt the pulsing of his growing knot, he tensed. But Will rubbed against it, whimpering.

‘Oh, please. Please, Hannibal.’

He exhaled harshly, forehead pressed to Will’s nape.

‘Will, I – are you certain?’

‘I am.’ A sob then, that tore at Hannibal’s heart. ‘Do not you want to?’

My love. Yes.

He cupped Will’s jaw, coaxing him round for a kiss. And as he tasted, so finally he claimed, penetrating deep, his burgeoning knot stretching the slick-soaked rim and drawing a gasp from Will as it slipped inside. And then, as he began again to move, ah, never had Hannibal felt such ecstasy. Surrounded by muscles which gripped and milked, all coherent thought was banished and pleasure, white hot and all-consuming, ripped through him. As his seed spilled hot and deep, he shuddered against Will’s shoulder, grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth.

‘Hannibal,’ groaned Will, neck arching in a perfect curve. Inviting. Trusting.

With utmost tenderness, Hannibal kissed the dewy skin beneath his lips.

Not yet, my darling. But soon.

If Will felt slighted, he showed no sign, twining his fingers through Hannibal’s as together they collapsed in an exhausted tangle of limbs. And when their bodies separated, Will turned at once within the circle of Hannibal’s arms and pressed close.

‘Shall I stay for a while?’

What fierce possessiveness welled within Hannibal as he returned the sleepy Omega’s embrace.

‘You shall stay all night. I would not countenance any other arrangement.’

A soft sigh fluttered against his neck. ‘Good.’

They lay entwined until discomfort drove Hannibal to tug Will from the bed.

‘Come, allow me to tend you. You are an unconscionable mess.’

Will snorted. ‘No more than you.’

But there was no bite to his words, and Hannibal felt the soft stroke of a thumb across his palm as he led Will to the washstand in the corner of the room. He cleaned them both; and while he was perfunctory with himself, his touch gentled as he reached for Will. He could not resist anointing those pale, slender thighs with kisses, each one more lingering than the last, until he felt again Will’s growing arousal and took him into his mouth, sucking eagerly to pull from the boy the high-pitched cries he so loved to hear.

When finally they were clean and dry, Hannibal pulled the sheets from the bed and threw the discarded coverlet across it.

‘This shall have to suffice.’

He blew out the candle and they sank down together again, Will wriggling back into the curve of Hannibal’s body in a most distracting manner. But sleep quickly claimed them, and not for several hours did either again stir.

***

Will was awoken by a pale bar of sunlight shining across his face. Blinking, he struggled upright, and blushed as he registered an additional presence in the room – that of Umber, Hannibal’s valet.

‘Good morning, sirs,’ intoned Umber blandly, busying himself with straightening the folds in the curtains.

Will’s heart skipped a beat as long fingers trailed, feather-soft, down his spine.

‘Good morning, Umber.’ Hannibal’s voice was husky. ‘What time is it?’

‘Seven o’clock, sir.’

‘Is everything ready for our expedition?’

‘It is, sir. Cook has prepared a basket, and your rods and tackle are outside. I thought you might like to take the phaeton, sir.’

‘Very good.’

Umber bowed and exited, pulling the door softly to as he left. Twisting, Will met Hannibal’s lazy gaze with raised brows.

‘The phaeton?’

‘Mm.’

The hand on his back travelled lower and Will half-closed his eyes in pleasure.

‘Are not there streams enough within walking distance?’

‘I thought that you might like to choose our destination.’ Hannibal sat up and looped his arms around Will’s waist. ‘Perhaps show me the haunts of your childhood.’

Touched, Will turned his head and pressed a kiss to Hannibal’s cheek.

‘I would like that very much.’

***

In the cool silence of early morning, they stole outside like naughty children. The one-horse phaeton stood at the ready, and Will climbed aboard as Hannibal took the reins.

And so it was that an hour later, they stood side-by-side, fishing rods in hand, on the bank of Will’s favourite stream.

‘Over the years, my father and I spent many happy hours here,’ he reflected, watching as Hannibal cast off with admirable precision. ‘Although I must confess that we long ago stopped coming for the carp. They are exceedingly wily creatures.’

‘Ah.’ Hannibal darted him an amused glance. ‘A detail you hitherto neglected to mention.’

‘I thought that you might rather relish the challenge.’

Hannibal’s laughter mingled pleasingly with the symphonic sounds of early morning – the gurgle of water over stone, a skylark’s quavering soprano, desiccated leaves rustling overhead. And as they settled into a comfortable silence, Will felt a burst of happiness that curved his lips irrepressibly upwards.

***

When the church bell chimed ten o’clock, they stopped for sustenance, having eschewed breakfast in favour of an early start. Once the rods were secured, they spread out their greatcoats and sat down, the basket between them.

Hannibal opened the lid, revealing various muslin-wrapped items, a corked earthenware bottle and two silver cups – at the sight of which, Will endeavoured not to roll his eyes.

‘We have bread, cheese, apples. And tomatoes from the greenhouse.’

‘And the bottle?’

‘Cider from one of the tenant farmers.’

At this, Will grinned. ‘How very thoughtful of them.’

It was with covetous eyes that Will watched Hannibal remove the cork and pour two generous servings of the cloudy, sweet-smelling liquid. Those beautiful hands knew how to give him exquisite pleasure and he wanted them on him again, but he knew not how to ask.

Hannibal passed him a brimming cup, and their fingers brushed as he accepted it.

‘Thank you.’

‘It is my pleasure.’

They drank, exchanging lingering looks. He feels it too.

Encouraged, Will put down his cup and confessed softly, ‘I imagined this once. The two of us, here, together.’

‘You did?’ Hannibal looked touchingly pleased. ‘When?’

‘Oh, many months ago. Strangely enough, long before I realised that I –‘

He stopped abruptly, face burning.

‘Will?’

‘Never mind.’ Hastily, he reached for the bread. ‘We should eat before the food spoils.’

He endured Hannibal’s searching look, keeping his eyes on his task as he tore chunks from the oblong loaf.

What were you thinking, almost blurting out your feelings in such a clumsy way?

After a few moments, Hannibal joined him in dividing the food, and they ate in a silence that was slightly less comfortable than before.

But the cider warmed Will’s belly and relaxed his limbs. And when he picked from its muslin nest a plump tomato and bit into it, relishing the slight crunch before sucking out the juice, he glanced upwards and laughed at Hannibal’s struck look.

‘Do I horrify you with my provincial manners?’

‘Not at all, I assure you.’

There was a husky note in Hannibal’s voice that was deliciously familiar. And suddenly Will saw a way forward.

‘Would you like a taste?’

‘Very much.’ The huskiness was accompanied now by an inviting gleam in honey-dark eyes.

‘Here.’ Smirking, Will held it up to Hannibal’s lips. ‘It is very good.’

‘I am sure.’

Slowly, Hannibal bit into the offered fruit, holding Will’s gaze. A bead of red juice escaped and trickled down his chin. Will leaned across the basket, placing one hand on Hannibal’s shoulder for balance.

‘Allow me.’

He flicked out his tongue and caught the droplet as it hung suspended, then licked his way up delicately to Hannibal’s lips.

‘Better?’ he whispered.

Hannibal tilted his head as if considering. The next moment, the basket was pushed aside and Will found himself hauled into Hannibal’s lap, a strong arm wrapping around his waist as he plucked the tomato from Will’s fingers and tossed it away. Will framed Hannibal’s face with hands that trembled, and pressed their lips together as gentle hesitation gave way to fierce demand. He sucked the taste of sweet cider from Hannibal’s tongue, and moaned as Hannibal explored his mouth with equal thoroughness. Finally they parted, and Hannibal smiled.

‘Much better.’ He reached into the basket and retrieved a small cloth bundle. ‘I have something for you.’

And with a look that was almost shy, he held it out on his open palm. Will’s heart beat a little faster.

‘What is it?’

‘Unwrap it and see.’

Will reached between them and carefully peeled away the damp muslin. There, in the centre, nestled a delicately carved tomato rose, scarlet petals gleaming. A touching reminder of their days together in the hunting tower. He looked back up at Hannibal with a helpless smile.

‘Oh, Hannibal. It is beautiful. When did you find the time?’

Hannibal chuckled, a rich sound that was all the more precious for its rarity. ‘I count myself fortunate that you are an extremely deep sleeper.’

Carefully, Will plucked up the rose and cradled it for a moment before setting it gently aside.

‘Thank you.’

He slipped his arms around Hannibal’s neck and twined his fingers in the thick strands that brushed the top of the Alpha’s coat collar.

‘You need a haircut.’

‘Such impudence.’ Hannibal eyed him with amusement. ‘And from someone with the most appallingly unkempt mop I have ever seen.’

Yet the hand that stroked through Will’s hair lingered lovingly.

‘You, sir,’ whispered Will huskily, leaning forward until they were nose to nose, ‘are quite shockingly rude.’

‘Then I would say we are perfectly matched,’ came the soft reply, before their lips connected once more.