"Mess, darling," he cooed, taking her chin and kissing her forehead.
She nodded and smiled. She took up the mop and began to wash the blood away. "The grout is difficult to clean."
Sweeney Todd was completely ensorcelled; her lovely swaying motion was captivating. She turned around.
"Well?" she asked, batting her long eyelashes seductively.
"I must say, you're, em, posterior is quite alluring," he said softly.
"Hm," she said and continued to mop, a little more forcefully than before, cheeks red.
"Ah, ah," he said huskily. He grabbed her round the waist and shoved her against the barber's chair.
"You're getting blood on my new dress," she gulped, glancing around timidly. He shoved her harder against the chair.
"Is that what you're worried about?" he asked darkly. He fingered the scissors he had tucked into his belt. She shook her head.
"I suppose not," she said shakily. He dipped his hand down to the curve of her back. She felt her fists clench. He pressed even harder against her. She felt his hand slip between the buttons in her dress. She heard them pop, one by one, as he dragged his hand along the silvery sheen of the new fabric. He kissed her again, forcefully, aggressively. He dropped the scissors with a delicate ding.
Quintessa's hand instinctively went to his head. Her fingers wove their way into the soft dark black and white tangled mess of hair. His brooding, lustful eyes met her own and she felt like a deer in the headlights. He ground himself against her and she whimpered.
"Are you scared?" he asked softly.
She shook her head and bit her lip. She jerked his head back and attacked his neck, nibbling delicately along his empty veins. He groaned and then snatched her wrists. He jerked her up the stairs and into the bedroom. She moaned as he tugged her shimmering dress down, leaving her in a petticoat. He snapped the whalebone ribs along her corset until it fell to pieces, the painstakingly slow process making her lust even more. She jerked his vest off; he'd discarded his jacket some time before. He sat over her panting, a sweat sheen glinting on his pale face. He kissed her passionately, his hands pressing into the soft flesh and pliant bones of her chest. She elicited a tiny mewl before he crashed his hips into her.
He slammed into her harshly, but then it became a pleasant, teasing pattern. Suddenly he thrust into her again. She yelped in pleasure.
"What's my name, darling?" he asked, in a rather satisfied manner, though he felt like he were about to explode.
"S-Sweeney Todd," she answered. And he pounded against her one final time before warmth spread inside of her.
"And yours is Quintessa," he said, breathing heavily.
"Indeed it is," she gasped. He rolled off of her, and pulled her close. She slowly eased into a peaceful sleep. He kissed her temple.
"I knew I liked you," he said, smiling to himself.