Esteemed Malevolence
The Devil Says
Sighing with guilt, Eleanor pressed her back into her shop door, not caring when the back of her head hit it with a thump. Her deep breaths puffed out, visible from how chilly it was in her vacant premises.
She felt more than terrible now. She'd already been on edge since the Judge's party had been abruptly cancelled (more like evacuated) and having seen the young lad peering up at her in hopeful desperation just then... only to shout the odds at him...
She'd never forgive herself.
Yet she could never have brought herself to deal with whatever he'd been asking of her. When she tried to recall what he'd even told her, his voice became an absent, incomprehensive blur.
Too many strange things had happened in a short space of time for her to make sense of it all.
She took a couple of steps from the door, focusing on the shop floor, which was devoid of any colour - and for once, she felt like she was staring into a dreary mirror.
Deciding that she was being beyond ridiculous and all she needed was a sit down, she headed to her parlour, hugging her arms around herself as the cold air swirled about and seized its hold of her...
SLAM.
She stood bolt upright, frozen with fear at the loud noise - the action had been so strong that it shook the shop windows behind her. Her eyes squeezed shut with dread and she gulped down the urge to let out a small whimper.
She knew she wasn't going to have a serene night.
She started to shake with panic when she heard the latch being yanked down - the click of the mechanism told her the door was now securely locked shut. Footsteps approached behind her, and it was then that she knew she'd missed any opportunity to leave the situation completely.
She heard the footsteps come to a stop at the back of her and she inhaled deeply as she braced herself, feeling someone's warm breath panting out onto the back of her neck.
"Don't forget to lock your door, pet."
She breathed out an enormous sigh of relief at the sound of the barber's voice, but she couldn't help but feel annoyed with him for sneaking up on her like that.
"You never know who could be itchin' t'get in." Sweeney added, black orbs slitting through the darkness at her as she swivelled to face him with a stubborn glare.
"I know 'at! A crafty sod like you would wanna come in 'ere, I'm not daft!" she shot at him in her strange defensive manner - to which he frowned in confusion.
He knew exactly what had gotten under her skin - it had to be the ordeal of the party, and then the near-traumatic panic when they both had fled. He'd witnessed everything during the meeting she'd had with the lad outside, but decided not to bring the matter up considering her distress.
"All the more reason to lock your doors then, isn't it?" he answered vacantly - she huffed out an annoyed wheeze and shook her head at him. Next, she turned around, storming off towards the parlour to stoke the fire, muttering "Unlike 'im, I wouldn't be stupid enough to bleedin' lock meself in wi' the crafty beggar. Wot does 'e know? 'E should be upstairs sulkin' 'imself to death."
She really wasn't in the mood for his flirtatious games after the recent events of the night, and it seemed that whatever the man intended to say or do... it would be pointless, because she'd still be in her foul mood.
He watched the open door with a curious frown, stood motionless in the main shop as she bustled about in the moonlit parlour. She was grunting over-dramatically as she transported a few logs from one end of the room to the other, which was where the fireplace was situated. Her grunts of effort were certainly an attempt at a guilt trip, though he was slightly thankful that she could at least take out her frustration on something inanimate...
And from the violent manner that she was slinging the logs down, he was suddenly smirking with amusement. He loved it whenever she finally lost her rag.
He took his eyes away from her for a moment, but only so he could search for the gleam of glass through the pitch black of the main shop. At the first sight of the gin bottle, he marched over to it and snatched it up from the counter, face expressionless but eyes filled with devious intentions.
When he eventually entered the parlour, hugging the gin bottle to himself, he spied her knelt over the floor, using the skirts beneath her knees for cushions. She muttered curses to herself, her trembling fingers attempting to strike a match, but after several attempts she was beginning to show her irritation.
He raised a brow at the various profanities that flew out of her mouth, some that even he almost blushed at. Realising that she wasn't going to have the fire lit anytime soon, he kicked off his shoes - apparently the commotion of his actions had caused her ears to prick up. Due to how much his small, yet obnoxious tendency infuriated her, she finally successfully struck the match against the metal gauze of the matchbox, the flame flickering before her eyes.
He slouched down idly over the settee, gin bottle still in hand. He reached over to the side-table in order to fill up the two tumblers that were placed there. As he poured the clear liquid into each glass, Eleanor had successfully lit the fire - but was now raring to spout off at him. In fact, he was beginning to think that she hadn't even gotten started yet.
The shock of the night's events had only just winded her. As he was starting to see all too clearly.
"Wot are we even doin', Mr T?!" she gasped out hoarsely, exasperation and worry making itself known as she hurriedly stocked more logs onto the blossoming fire in a reckless manner, gulping back her annoyance. "The Judge were tellin' everyone t'leave! D'ya 'ear me? 'E wanted to abandon the most important social event in 'is calendar! And you know wot we 'eard up them stairs! 'S gotta be connected, ain't it?! But wot was it? It sounded like a bleedin' ... monster. Now, I'm not one for the supernatural - "
At this point, Mr Todd rolled his eyes and swiftly necked down his shot of gin, wincing as the stuff burned down his throat.
" - but I'm sure we 'eard summin' unexplained! And god forbid, if the Judge 'ad t'lose a bit'a his reputation tonight due to whatever nonsense were goin' on. God, Mr T! You shoulda bleedin' nicked 'im one while ya could! It wouldn't'a caused so much panic that way! Wouldn't'a been like wot we 'ad to fight our way through! Then let's not forget bleedin' Toby outside 'ere, 'o course! Lord in 'eaven, I'm not sure 'ow many more close shaves me poor 'eart can take!"
It was clear from his vacant expression that he wasn't bothered about how distraught with concern the woman was... which was bizarre considering he'd literally carried her out of harm's way earlier, like some sort of noble knight. Then again, it was clear that the man hadn't deemed that keeping her out of danger could be seen as an act of valor. It had been mere instinct for him to grab hold of her and leave.
Not to mention, a practicality.
"Well you're the one that told me to wait, remember?" he interjected lowly, his voice husky from the warmth of the gin coating his vocal chords.
She turned to face him with a frown and an astonished gawp, amazed that he had easily found something so simple to shoot back at her. Her defeated eyes faltered when she watched him slam down his glass on the side-table - after swallowing another shot, of course - his hands loosening the tie around his neck. She glared at him like she was expecting him to start a staring match, mouth closing into an abrupt pout.
"It's too 'ot in 'ere." he grumbled hoarsely, oblivious to her now narrowed eyes... of course, he was. Coming towards the end of January he should have been positively sweltering.
She gritted her teeth at his convenient complaint.
"I'd better put out the fire then, 'adnt I, dear?" she spoke, the frustration starting to show in the harshness of her consonants.
"No, no. No need for that." he replied in a strangely lighter tone, unravelling his tie so that it hung loosely around his neck. He then proceeded to unbutton his waistcoat and that happened to be when Eleanor stood up from her kneeling position to fully focus on him - from then on she was fully absorbed in studying his actions. She watched carefully as his right thumb pushed each button out from its matching hole, his other thumb holding the clothing on the opposite side to keep it from moving.
She shifted away from the fire, causing the reddish glow to illuminate the room - now she was able observe him better.
He smirked at her actions yet didn't stray from his task of removing his clothes. When his waistcoat finally fell open, he shuffled over the couch a bit more to reach for the gin bottle again - however, in doing so, he created more space next to him... and Eleanor wanted to fill that space immediately.
She tried to keep her pace slow as she wandered over to sit beside him, but her face was the tell-tale of how much she was suddenly loving their time alone. But it wasn't quite as intimate as she would have liked... not yet, anyway.
Without a word, he turned, clutching the tumbler he'd assigned to her, eyes exploring her with mirth.
" 'S not like you to sit so straight, Eleanor." he teased, purposely brushing his fingertips over her bare knuckles as she took the shot glass from him. His soul shined brightly through the blackness of his eyes, so much so, that she couldn't quite look away. Still fixated on him, she brought the glass to her lips, taking a long, much needed sip.
"You should relax more often." he added, blindly reaching for his own glass. "Admittedly, I can't. But I would've thought you could. You ought to after what's just 'appened."
"Ha!" she choked out, swigging the rest of the gin down. "Relax? Ya didn't see me in that god awful 'ouse'a Turpin's before we met up then, did ya?"
He frowned in confusion, taking a generous sip from his glass, "What do you mean?"
"I 'ated it. I've never felt so outta me own depth in me 'ole life." she confessed quietly, brows raising up like she was surprised at her own honesty. "Was lookin' all over f'ya at first I was. Glad ya found me when ya did."
He smirked, even though her words were striking him internally - in a way he couldn't quite describe.
"So am I. Else that blonde-haired meater would've gotten to you before I did." he mumbled dangerously, but it was clear his threatening tone was feigned... or so she thought.
Nevertheless, she let out a burbling giggle, taking on his advice - she relaxed herself by letting her spine slide down into a more comfortable position, her head propped up by the cushions behind her.
"Ya really think I'd 'ave accepted 'is proposal, do ya?" she purred whilst she gazed over at the dancing flames, chest rising and falling in a slow yet even rhythm, her legs sprawled out lazily.
He snagged her glass out of her grip, and she was that content that she couldn't even muster herself to look at him, let alone frown his way. She smiled calmly as she heard the sound of the gin gushing into each canteen once more.
"Are you tryna get me drunk, Mr T?" she questioned, her brow furrowing with bewilderment.
"Why would I need to do that?" he uttered, his body shifting a bit closer to her as he shoved the full glass back into her hands. "I don't 'ave to get you blathered to amuse me."
"Oh! Well tha's a relief, ain't it?"she exclaimed highly, her eyes flicking towards him - due to her droopy eyelids, he was sure that she wasn't far off intoxication, which was a slight surprise considering they'd barely had anything to drink so far.
His eyes studied her movements, and that smirk of his only broadened.
"It's still 'ot in 'ere."
"Well bleedin' do summin 'bout it then! God, whenever ya do open ya mouth, you do go on sometimes, Mr T."
"The feelin's mutual, Mrs Lovett."
"Oh do stop callin' me 'at an' all! I think we've surpassed 'avin ta use our titles, dear."
He snorted a laugh, "But you still call me - "
"Yes, yes alrigh', alrigh'! I'm a bleedin' hypocrite. But with you it jus' sticks, I dunno."
There was a brief silence as they both gulped down more of their favoured spirit, but the two of them weren't so eager to down it this time. It was clear as day that it wasn't going to be too long before one of them slipped into complete intoxication... however that wasn't completely down to the alcohol.
"Mr T, d'ya think there was summin' funny in the Judge's wine?" Eleanor soon piped up, completely oblivious to how she addressed him.
"Why would you think that?"
"It's just... you're bein' awful strange. An' so am I. 'Never felt like talkin' so much in me life!"
"I beg to differ." he remarked, tossing back the rest of the drink. He didn't even flinch as he did so, irises like daggers as he stared intently into her far-away eyes.
He couldn't help noticing how beautiful she looked under the light of the fire... he should have slapped himself in the face for thinking it, but... she really was attractive... almost hypnotic to study.
"It really is 'ot, isn't it?" he said expressionlessly, pushing off his waistcoat and threading his tie from beneath his collar. "It can't just be me?"
" 'Course it's jus' you, love - look at ya." she chuckled out suggestively, mouth snapping shut and eyes suddenly widening when she realised that he wasn't stopping there. He stretched his arms up, hands grabbing downwards to pull the shirt over his head. She tossed the rest of the gin to the back of her throat, completely enthralled in him as he finally shed the last of his upper clothing.
"That's better..." he murmured, each of his bare arms outstretching over the settee behind them. He sighed and closed his eyes, then laid his head back into the cushions.
Eleanor's hands clawed around her tumbler, wide eyes trailing over the defined muscles of his abdomen, then from there, all the way up to his jawline. The outlines of his pallid body appeared to be the colours reminiscent of the fire crackling away nearby, and she could feel warmth simmering through her body just from looking at him. Once again, it was impossible to tear away.
"Think I'm gonna need 'nother one'a these." she finally managed to push out of her lungs, and he immediately cracked open his eyes to stare at her, moving up one of his arms so that his forearm rested against his messy head of hair.
"Why's that, then?"
"You're makin' me on edge. So much for bloody deservin' ta relax."
"You're more than welcome to another... 'elp yourself." he blatantly teased, closing his eyes to the look of disbelief on her face.
She eyed his naked torso... then judged how close the gin bottle was... the man was being both awkward and openly provocative.
Just as she shuffled a little closer to him, hand poised dangerously close to the skin of his chest, Sweeney blindly reached his hand away from the settee - to unexpectedly unbuckle his belt. He slowly threaded it out from his trouser loops and once the whole length of it was free, he bent the leather and snapped each half together loudly, causing her to jump. He let out a relieved sigh, discarding it across the floor.
She loathed him as he pretended to be unaware of her actions.
"Stop playin' wi' me." she whispered, giving him a scowl.
"I haven't even started, pet."
"W-Well... I-I'm not gonna let ya take advantage o' me, i-if that's wot yer inferrin'." she stuttered out, her usually conniving brain suffering from the beginning of her apparent intoxication.
He sighed, and sat up slightly in order to grab his shot glass again. In turn, his left hand pushed back his knotted strands of black hair, that white streak seeming to gleam under the fire light - yet another thing that caused Mrs Lovett's poor heart to near implode.
"Of course you wouldn't let me do such a thing." he taunted in an almost-whisper, lips parting over the rim of his glass. " 'Cause we both know that you want to fuck me just as hard as I want to fuck you."
"W-Well th-that's j-jumpin' ta d-drastic c-conclusions - "
"But aren't drastic conclusions called for, Eleanor? 'ard times like these... it's only fair."
Oh. She knew it was fair.
More than fair.
"Ya know... 'think you was right, love. It is startin' ta get a bit warm in - "
"Yes... It is, isn't it?" he hissed in that persuasive tone that sent shivers all through her body - he shifted slightly as if he'd suddenly had a quick burst of energy, eyes admiring her face like every sin she had ever committed was mapped out over her features.
"Think all thiss gin'ss gone to our 'ead'ss, ya know?" she partially slurred out, averting her gaze from him before the intensity between them both became too much to bear.
"You mean it's gone to your head."
She rolled her eyes then turned back to face him, sticking her tongue out at him playfully. He shook his head and smirked, seeing as she'd proved him right.
"In that case, I'd better take that off you." he spoke sternly, placing his glass back on the table before he reached towards the one she held.
"No!" she protested loudly, causing him to frown deeply with annoyance. She clawed both hands around the glass, biting into a smile as she drunkenly met his narrowed eyes.
When his fingers almost settled around her hands, she yanked them away towards her chest, unleashing a torrent of giggles as he gave her a black look.
"Give me it, Eleanor." he growled out, holding his hand out towards her, wearing a mirthless expression.
Her frivolous chuckles only grew louder and more erratic due to his reaction and he let out a snarl of annoyance, launching his entire body towards her.
She gasped out as she slouched to the side - a consequence of him pouncing on top of her. He tightly grappled onto both of her hands with his own, pressing his nose into hers as he glared straight into her eyes.
"Give me it." he whispered menacingly, and that dirty laugh of hers broke out through her mouth, ringing out without any delay. Due to laughing so much, her hands lost their grip and he snatched the glass out of her hands, smirking with triumph... yet instead of getting up off of her, his right hand grasped the glass and he outstretched his arm by the side of the couch, gently releasing it out of his hands. It rolled across the floor silently, coming to a stop by the front of the fireplace.
Eleanor was still shaking with giggles, and he suddenly felt a little bit light-headed... he must have been because he was starting to enjoy the sound of her chuckling a little too much.
Still lightly pinning her down with his body weight, he observed her appearance closely, obsidian irises raking over the precariously low neckline of her deep red dress... they then trailed upwards to her pale neck, and then her chin, and then her hypnotising open mouth, then up to her buoyant chestnut eyes...
He paused there for a moment, but couldn't resist wandering his eyes over to her ever-messy auburn ringlets, pinned up out of the way of her shoulders.
Now that he'd studied her intricately, he'd started to grow hungry. And he had the urge to shut her up.
Seeing as her mouth was occupied, he snarled with frustration, instead pushing his damp lips to her inviting neck. Her giggles died down immediately, her drunken humour fading into gasps and whimpers of enjoyment as her eyes closed. He brought a hand up to the opposite side of her neck, squeezing her there until he could feel her pulse against his fingers.
He groaned into his attack of kisses when he felt her hands gently sliding up either side of his torso's skin, coming to a rest on both of his bare shoulder blades.
"Oh, love..." she breathed, eyes opening briefly as his mouth left her so that he could cup her chin in his hands, gazing down into her eyes.
"You're warm... take something off." he instructed hoarsely, hands dropping away from her as he slowly shuffled away from her to return to his slouched position from before. She opened her eyes and bit into her smirk, sitting up abruptly - a little too abruptly, because dizziness suddenly hit her. She closed her eyes and shook her head, and after she re-opened them found that her head had settled.
On hearing the rustles of her dress sliding over her skin, he felt his fingers trembling. His eyes shot towards her with interest, yet his hands strayed blindly towards to gin bottle. He poured yet another shot, engrossed in her as she slackened her laces one by one. Even though she wasn't returning his gaze, she could sense him examining her and her white cheeks tinged to pink.
Since one of his hands was busy lifting up the glass, the other was free to reach beneath her splayed out skirts. His fingers explored around until he found one of her boots, which he began to untie.
He brought his glass up to his lips, pausing when his hand finally managed to grip onto the heel of her boot and slide it away from her delicate foot. His hand stayed put and glided its way over her stocking-clad leg, her eyes drawn to him instantaneously. She moved her other leg over to his hand and he smirked at her enthusiasm, already starting to loosen her other boot.
Although the two of them were silent and staring deeply at one another, the crackle of the fire seemed to speak for both of them - each snap as the flames ate up the deteriorating logs made their hearts beat that little bit faster with anticipation.
Sweeney took a sip of gin while simultaneously Eleanor's second boot fell to the rug below his feet. Split seconds after, her dress finally loosened away from her and he almost choked when she gave him such a powerful look of seductive victory - luckily, he swallowed the strong liquid down, but that didn't stop him from spluttering out a cough or two. She held the dress against her front with one arm, chuckling quietly as she sat up straighter.
Her other arm reached towards her skirts and she shifted them so that he could finally view her legs... though her thighs were still obscured by the material of her dress, that didn't stop them from attracting his attention. He swallowed, eyes following the direction of his hand as it shrugged down each of her stockings - he grew impatient on her second leg and threw the damn thing across the room. That had only encouraged her dirty laugh to emerge again, resulting in his blood pumping more ferociously around his body.
Clutching the glass in a vice-like grip to his chest, he stared with an open mouth as she suddenly prised herself up. She took a few steps to the side so that she was stood before his bent knees, her hands still flat against the bodice of her dress.
"I know you 'ate the Judge's guts..." she breathed out thoughtlessly, and he frowned at her - what was she thinking, bringing up his nemesis at a time like this?! "... but you oughta be thankful that he 'ad to cancel 'is gatherin' else y - "
"Or else wot? Should I thank 'im before or after I slice open his throat, Eleanor?" he spat at her, her reminder of vengeance only added to the sexual frustration he had, and both were darkly evident in his eyes as he glared at her.
" 'Else ya wouldn't 'ave 'ad time ta find out this!" she finally blurted out, dropping her dress so that it bundled up at her feet.
Sweeney's eyes dilated and he gawped as he looked her over... her bottom half was completely exposed.
"You... ?" he breathed out, struggling for words as he took in a shuddered breath... then he went back to gawping at her.
"You... ? 'Ow long 'ave you 'ad nothin'... all night?! Even when... ?" he whispered to himself, wearing a confused frown as his eyes continued to travel over her thighs, finally settling on her intimate area as his words tried to make some sort of sense.
Before he could say anything further, she stepped out of the pool of dress, kicking it aside. His hand clenched violently around the glass, and it was a wonder to Eleanor how the damn thing didn't break. She eyed him confidently, her hands pushing his knees apart before she gracefully climbed onto him, all in order to straddle herself over his recently tensed thighs.
"You've been... wearin' nothin'..." his monotone statement trailed off as she leaned forwards, her lips ever so close to his when their noses brushed. "... all this time?"
He nearly moaned when she shifted herself over him slightly - he could feel the warmth from her bottom half through the material of his trousers, and she could tell how much he wanted her... his eyes told her that he was in control, but his crotch said otherwise.
She inched her head away from him, but only so that she could stroke her fingers over his clenched hands... she eased the shot of gin out of his talon-like digits - his gaze was drunken and dazed as he watched her in fascination.
His brain was still trying to catch up with what was happening.
She quickly finished off the last of his drink, licking her lips once the last drop had seared down her throat.
Like she was imitating his previous actions, she hung her arm limply to her side, allowing the glass to slip from her fingers, smiling once it slowly thumped onto the ground. His breaths became shallow once she reached her hands in the small gap between them, her fingers stroking all the way down from his chest to the bottom of his abdomen.
Her hands lingered over the buttons of his trousers and he groaned in frustration at her actions, his eyebrows meeting in the middle of his brow in submission.
Her lips brushed over his and her eyelashes fluttered against his skin as she popped out the first button, earning a deep hum of relief from him. She cleared her throat and he raised a brow at her, feeling her hands taking hold of his own - she placed them so that each of his fingers found a lace of her corset, before returning to relieve the pressure of his crotch.
His small touches on the laces across her back became impatient and frantic, it seemed that the combination of her on top of him and the nonchalance of them shedding their last pieces of clothing had pushed him far too much. He moaned gruffly as he hungrily returned his lips to her mouth, his tongue snaking its way through to meet hers in eager passion.
Before long, the trousers around his legs had loosened enough for her to start tugging them down. She broke away for a moment in order to ardently shrug the clothing down each of his legs, his shaking hands on her back still scrapping with the laces of her corset.
He breathed deeply, lifting his feet out of the pile of trousers, snarling once she sat back down over his lap, dangerously close to brushing the skin between his legs.
He urged his fingers to pick up speed whilst he launched an attack of kisses on her mouth - he was amazed by how fiercely she reacted back, clenching her thighs when he almost brought her down on him completely. She shifted her weight forwards when she began meeting his lips more feverishly, causing him to slam backwards and slide down the settee in defeat.
For once, he didn't care about control.
He was curious about what she had in mind...
His fingers soon slowed pace when laces finally started loosen. Even though he was desperate to release her out of the infernal corset, the feel of her mouth over his and the warmth of her half-naked form over him had invaded his sense of lust. She'd engulfed him so much, more than he'd allowed her to before. To say he liked taking down his stoic barriers for her to pleasure him, would have been more than understatement.
However, that didn't stop him from snatching her corset away from her as soon as it was finally no longer attached to her body. He yanked the material out from the gap between their torsos, throwing it down to the floor, never ceasing to kiss her. His actions seemed to evoke her into a fit of excitement and she brayed her mouth harder against his, loudly groaning out with relief. His open mouth felt every minor vibration.
His hands ran down the pale skin of her back, hands that were firm and callous as he impulsively trailed each of his digits down the shape of her spine - which curved inwards now that the feel of his fingers sent delightful shivers to shake her entire form.
She raised herself up over him, causing his palms to slide over the skin of her lower back and skim the tops of her buttocks.
Then she quickly dropped herself down onto him. The two of them groaned out into the other's mouth at the contact, their bottom-halves already bucking in order to create a syncopated, yet rapid rhythm.
Eleanor blindly gave herself to the devil inside her then and there, for the taste of him was too much, the feel of him... was otherworldly, and too pleasurable to deny. And this time... there was nothing stopping them, there were no obstacles now that they were both giving in to one another, all in the enflamed glow of her parlour.
As her movements over him became more elaborate and daring, their mouths parted, their heavy breaths puffing out onto the other's face thoughtlessly.
Sweeney's eyes flew open at the feeling of her as she leaned away from him, rolling her body in manner that was far too blindingly pleasurable for him to comprehend.
He blatantly loved everything about Eleanor Lovett in that moment. The sight of her was crookedly perfect, the sound of her was near symphonic.
More of her auburn hair slowly slid out of the grips against her head as she pushed her hips down in response to each of his thrusts, the sounds of her pleasure gaining in volume.
He narrowed his eyes curiously once he met her gaze, taken aback at the shimmering adoration swimming in her glossy eyes - she wasn't afraid of hiding any of her affection. He could see her love for him plainly - it was more prominent now than he'd ever seen it before.
Before he could take back control of himself, he found his curiosity taking over his brain... and inquisitive words slipped out before he could stop them.
"Would you burn for me?" he breathed out gruffly, her eyes faltering at the sound of his strange question. His hands gripped around her backside, encouraging her to keep moving on top of him at the same pace.
She hummed out a breathy, incoherent agreement - despite the confused look about her, she'd answered him with sincerity and utmost honesty.
"Would you lie for me?" he beckoned persuasively, the darkness in eyes growing more tempting with every second that passed by.
Her confusion was tossed aside as she hissed out a determined "yes". Her body shook violently when he took himself out of her, only to push all the way back in.
"Beg for me?"
"Yes, yes! Always, Sweeney!" she moaned out noisily, continuing to abide and execute his every sly request, regardless of her fascination as to why he was asking her questions in the heat of the moment - she'd thought that he'd preferred it when they were both silent.
"... die for me?"
He paused his movements as he asked this, quickly reaching his hands up from her rump to cup them around her face. His black eyes seared into her as he tried to understand and feel exactly what she did. Her thighs tensed, her chest heaved, and she couldn't deny that in that moment, she felt like he truly was a physical part of her.
The bare bones of her stared back at him.
She could tell that something had been stripped away from him too, and it gleamed in the blackness of his eyes - something had finally lit, and the flame had began to flicker, wavering so much that she couldn't ignore the warm adoration waving through her entire being.
"Yes! God, yes! Ten times if I could." she gasped out in ecstasy, without any slither of doubt in her eyes. From then on, only pure love for him poured out of her being and those eyes were undeniably begging him to start moving again.
What Sweeney hadn't realised, was that she was already (and quite obviously) doing all four of the things he'd just asked of her... so there was really no need to question her. But the poor man was attempting to understand what her loving him really meant. And he was starting to wonder how on Earth she'd waited for him for so long...
It was also just dawning on him, that if love meant doing all those things that he'd just asked of Eleanor... then perhaps he was beginning to go the same way?
Though he shunned the thought of being in love with the woman, it certainly didn't stop him from burning for her.
Or lying for her, for that matter.
It was only a matter of time before he subconsciously submerged himself within an excruciating sea of denial, so much so, that he'd soon drift ashore to an island of realisation...
From then on, he'd never wish to drown in that poisonous water of denial ever again.
A/N Thanks for getting this far! This one was a tad more poetic, I suppose. I wanted to explore their more sinful side again... but don't worry, I assure you this chapter is extremely relevant. The next chapter will definitely answer your questions... or some, at least. ;) It's so nice to know that this fic is something a lot of you look forward to - it's an absolute joy to write Sweenett for you all again. Considering this ship isn't as popular as it should be, I'll be unfortunately remaining here in our little gem of a community forever... hope you don't mind... Thanks for reading, see you in the next chapter ;)