Chapter 9

I'm sorry this took so bloody long!!! I went to school one day and came back hoping to start writing, and was told by my mom that she had to take the computer in to get fixed or something. Arghhh.

That aside, I gave you all a little warning in the last chapter that it's going to be a rather -*cough*-… smutty chapter.

Hope you enjoy…XD

Sweeney angrily burst through his door, slamming it behind him. He had done it again. Gotten so overcome by emotions that he had lost his control. He sank -still seething- into his chair. He wasn't supposed to be sorry, to feel guilty about what he had done. Sweeney Todd does not feel, he repeated to himself over and over again. It was her bloody fault. His world as Sweeney was strictly monochromatic…and she had brought a burst of colour, of emotion that even he couldn't control. Benjamin felt, Sweeney Todd did not. He looked over to the portrait that was still lying broken on the ground. Walking over to it, he stared it over. Lucy and Johanna…they were all that mattered. He would avenge them; he would feel the Judge's bastard throat ripping beneath the silver of his razor. He would feel his blood spilling….god he hated that man. He began to lift the pieces of the shattered frame one by one, setting them on the table. Taking a razor in his hand, he raised it to the dull sunlight that came in through the window. He shuddered in vengeful delight at the thought of the rubies from the Judge's neck spilling over the smooth silver blade. It was rather funny, how the more consumed with his revenge he got, the more faded his memories of his wife and daughter became. There must be a way to the Judge…but bloody when? He needed to feel him go limp, hear his scream, watch him die before his own eyes. Throwing the razor to the floor, he felt his body begin to shudder with rage. He needed an outlet, a way to vent these frustrations…His mind was brought back to Mrs. Lovett. Thoroughly enraged with himself, he began to walk towards the door. She is very good at it…

Back downstairs, the pie-crust making was proceeding as normal. Mr. T in his shop upstairs, Toby setting up the shop, and her own self down in the kitchen. She quickly moved from task to task, taking out the ingredients one by one. Eggs, butter, milk, and of course, flour. She began to mix them together, slowly to create a dough of perfect consistency. These were the best pies in London, were they not? She allowed herself a small smile as she teased the dough between her fingers, dusting the countertop with a handful of flour. These pies were part of the reason why she had met Mr. Todd in the first place. Stupid pies, she probably would have a lot less on her mind without them. Beginning to softly knead the dough with the rolling pin, she was suddenly startled as the door burst open.

"Mr. T!" she squeaked, dropping the rolling pin. "Ya startled me!"

Sweeney didn't respond, but slowly walked into the room, eyeing her over. That corset did look marvelous on her. "What's on the menu today?" he inquired.

Mrs. Lovett rolled her eyes. "Meat pies, ya bloomin' idiot. If I'm not mistaken, it's you who supplies the ingredients," she answered, not looking at him. "I'm still bloody mad at you, if ya haven't guessed."

Sweeney nodded. "Oh, I've guessed," he replied, still eyeing her over. Bastard, she thought, though the desire building in the pit of her stomach wasn't helping much. He did have that effect on her. Almost absent-mindedly, she straightened her bodice, drawing Sweeney's eyes to her tremendously enhanced bosom. Does she have a bloody inkling what she is doing? Sweeney thought, his pants growing rather uncomfortable as he fought to keep his manhood under control. Mrs. Lovett sighed. "Well, if ya just came down to stand an' stare I'm gonna have to ask ya to leave, dear," she said, exasperated. "I've got meself pie crusts to bake."

"Oh bloody hell woman!" Sweeney exclaimed, striding over to her, pressing her backwards against the countertop. Mrs. Lovett tried in vain to push him off, though her womanhood was otherwise screaming not to.

" Mr. T! We're opening soon!" she hissed.

"Will you shut up?" Sweeney huskily shot back, silencing her with his lips, pressing her further backwards onto the counter. The flour dusted across it clinging to her dress. Oh, she hated him for doing this…not that it was entirely unpleasant. He rammed his tongue between her lips, searching every bit of it. Mrs. Lovett went rather limp at that, moaning into his mouth, arousal building, her back pressed flat against the counter. Sweeney pushed his chest into her body. The pressure from his body weight against her body was delightful, and her breath came out in a heavy sigh. He moved his mouth off hers, and down to her neck. Nipping at her throat, he flicked his tongue over her neck, running it lightly over her jawline as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. Mrs. Lovett let out another moan, pressing her hips into his. No matter how much she despised him, or how much he frightened her at times, it was moments like this when she was all his. She could feel his hard want straining against the fabric of his trousers, and through her skirt.

Sweeney moved his mouth down, biting gently at her collarbone before taking her breasts tightly in his hands. He buried his face between them, growling from deeply inside his throat. Mrs. Lovett whispered his name. "Sweeney…" the word was like chocolate on her tongue. Her chest heaved as he licked at bit at the tops of her breasts, his tongue tracing over the whiteness of her skin. Mrs. Lovett writhed in his grasp, bringing her own teeth down to bite hard on his shoulder. Sweeney growled, viciously pulling the hem of her heavy skirt up to place his hand…on her bloomers. Bloody things. "Take them off!" he hissed. Lovett nodded between breaths, obligingly puling them down and dropping them to the ground. Sweeney gave a satisfied grunt, and placed his hand on her damp curls. Mrs. Lovett let out a gasp. He began to rub vigorously, pressing the little swollen bud with one hand while the other found its way to her opening. Mrs. Lovett moaned as he entered her with his fingers, moving them in and out of her wetness. She rocked her hips in time with him, pressing them hard into his. Sweeney could feel her beginning to clench around his fingers, and promptly pulled them out, leaving her gasping as she clutched hard to his shoulders. "I need ya inside me," she hissed, her slick womanhood burning for Sweeney.

He shot his stare at her. Those dark, intense, beautifully dangerous eyes piercing into her own. "The floor might be easier," he replied, roughly grabbing her body closer to his before she could reply. With that, he swiftly lifted her off the counter, pulling her down on to the floor, and knocking the container of flour off the counter where it landed on the wood floor beside them in a poof of white.

"Ooh, Mr. T!" she squeaked as he rolled back on top of her, brushing flour from his face and furiously tugging at her hems with one hand as he unzipped his trousers with the other. In one motion, he quickly entered her, ramming his erect manhood inside of her. A loud gasp escaped Mrs. Lovett's mouth, and she arched her back, coaxing him even further into her as he built up his energy. He began to thrust harder, pounding her into the floor as she threw her head back, shrieking from unbearable pleasure. The woman does not shut up, he thought to himself, allowing a small smirk before proceeding to move himself in and out of her. Pouring his frustrations into her, releasing the pent up rage and confusion on her body.

They were almost over the edge. Rolling around on the floor amid the spilled flour, their moans and sighs increasing in vigor. With one final thrust, Sweeney did it. They explosively climaxed with each other, stiff in each other's limbs, teeth grinding, nails digging into flesh. Pain and pleasure.

Then was the release, a slow dénouement to the eruption of blissfulness they had just brought upon each other. Still entwined on the hard wooden floor, it took a moment before they moved. "Mr. Todd," Mrs. Lovett whispered, still quivering. "We've got the shops to open…" she trailed off, shakily unwrapping herself from his grasp. She stood up off the floor, attempting to dust the flour off herself. Sweeney pulled himself up, on unsteady legs maneuvered himself to sit at the table. Mrs. Lovett silently walked back behind the counter, lifting the rolling pin up and beginning to roll the dough. Her mind completely elsewhere.

It was a moment before she set it down and looked over at Sweeney. "You're bloody good at that you know," she stated, before going back to the dough. Sweeney looked up, giving a reply in the form of a grunt. So is she…he thought, though chose not to voice this opinion. They stayed silent. Sweeney's mind churning with the mess of thoughts. She is very good at that…so different than Lucy…His heart lurched at that. His darling Lucy...When you kill the Judge, Sweeney. This will all be over…

"Mr. T," Mrs. Lovett said finally. "Ya better be getting back to your shop. We'll 'ave no meat for the pies…" she half whispered, opening the oven and setting a number of pie crusts inside. Sweeney nodded, straightening his clothing and making his way over to the door. Opening it, he stopped suddenly at what he saw. There was a man approaching the shop, one he hadn't seen for a while now.

"We got company, Mr. T?" Mrs. Lovett's slightly nervous voice came from behind him. Sweeney nodded, stepping out the door as the young man approached.

"Mr. Todd!" the boy's voice rang out. Sweeney gave a half smile of fond welcome.

"Hello Anthony," was what he said.

That was fun to write. A little too much fun I think. ;)

The next chap will be up quicker, since we've got the computer back. I'm getting really excited about this. :)