"Mm, I suppose dessert will keep." They can have it as a late night snack, whenever they rouse themselves from bed.
Hannibal presses a kiss to the back of her neck and undoes the zipper of her dress. Slowly, enjoying the anticipation.
Then he pauses, and his breath catches at the realization of what exactly lies underneath Abigail's clothing. "A present for yourself, then," he murmurs, tracing his fingers over the laces.