Unable to help himself, he kissed her back. How could he not? Everything felt so familiar that he easily got lost in her, pulling her closer and burying his hands in her tangled locks. How many times had he kissed her like this? And yet it always felt like the first time, ravenous and desperate, as if they'd been deprived of each other their whole lives. He felt another part of him beginning to respond to her kiss so he lowered his hands to cup her backside, pressing her against him to rub his growing member against her corset covered stomach. She suddenly pulled apart like a scalded cat.
"Bloody hell, what do you think you're doing?" she demanded and Sweeney was brought back to the present. He swiftly looked at his wife's carriage and was horrified to see her blue eyes still staring at him from the distance. She'd seen it all.
The seconds that followed were the most tension-filled of his life. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he prayed to whatever was up there that his wife did not stop the carriage and refused to leave for Bedford. Because in that case, he'd have to be more firm and he did not like treating women like that. He reckoned that even if she thought him a cheating abusive bastard, the priority was keeping her and Johanna safe. When the carriage turned the corner, he realised she was not coming back; she was on her way to her sister's with a broken heart. All because of the she-devil.
"No, what the hell do you think you're doing? Kissing me like that" he reprimanded her. He was furious. Furious at her for having the cheek to kiss him when they were nothing, furious at himself for having responded to it, for enjoying it.
"Miss Prim the prig needed to learn a lesson. How dare she accuse us of having an affair. I'm a married woman." She seemed offended and Sweeney snorted. She was unbelievable.
"A married woman who's planning on running away with someone else" he said, matter-of-factly. She smirked, not feeling remotely guilty for the hypocrisy she was displaying and it only angered him more. Because it reminded him of the old Eleanor, the teasing lying bitch whom he called his lover, who got him so worked up, so angry, until he could not think of anything other than shoving his rage in the moist heat between her thighs. But he was stronger than that. "Don't touch me again."
"Anything you say" she said dismissively but her smirk turned into a proper teasing smile when her eyes dropped to his regretfully erect penis. "But you liked it. You got stiff, you horny stringer." She winked but the look he gave her and the subtle movement of his hand was enough to shut her up. She shouldn't forget he's a recovering murderer who merely a month ago had one of his razors pressed against her neck. She should be very afraid. However, instead of cowering down, she straightened up and looked into his obsidian eyes. "Don't worry, I didn't mean anything by it and it won't happen again. I'm sorry." she spoke with such solemnity he suddenly felt like he wasn't talking with young Eleanor nor her thirty-something version he left in another timeline, but with a mature person wise enough to admit her mistakes and ask for forgiveness without her egoism or her impulsivity getting in the way. It felt foreign.
"In any case, we need to start planning how to prove Arthur's innocence. I had an idea" she informed him, returning to her usual optimistic demeanour. "That's most exciteful! I feel like the heroine in a novel, saving the poor damsel in distress!" she winked and Sweeney fought himself unable to stay mad at her. There were more important things at the moment. She grabbed his hand, with the intention of bringing him inside "C'mon, let's get inside and warm our bones. We can't free Arthur if we get grippe!"
"What about your husband?" he asked. He'd last seen the man five minutes ago, eagerly awaiting some oral pleasure from Eleanor and he'd surely blow a fuse if she came in to chat with Sweeney instead of continuing what she started. Now that he thought of it, he could not imagine how she'd managed to get out of that situation without the larger man having his release. Unless he really did not last long...
"Oh, he's asleep." He quirked an eyebrow and she led him to the parlour door, from where they could see Mr. Lovett snoring on the armchair. How did she do it? "Your wife was right; I am a witch. Gave him my special sleeping potion, I did. He's not going to wake up for a few hours but perhaps it'd be better if we spoke at the shop? Or we could go up to your room, now that it's empty and maybe open a bottle of wine? I know where Albert keeps the good stuff! Oh, and I almost forgot, I made dinner! Soup and sausages! Let's grab a bite while we talk!"
"I'm not hungry. And I'd rather talk here, make it short" he said sharply. He had the feeling that she was getting too comfortable too fast. He didn't want to have dinner with her, he didn't want to be her friend, didn't want her to kiss him... He just wanted to help free her lover so the two could ride off into the sunset and get out of his sight forever.
"As you wish. So, I've been thinking. I'm no expert on trials, never been to one myself, but I love reading. I remembered that something that's always in those book trials, apart from judges and lawyers, are witnesses! People who testify that the accused is either guilty of innocent, people who know what happened. And I've been thinking that, since I can't do it in case he's found guilty and Albert kicks me out, there's someone else who knows the facts: Collins! He helped my parents steal the money while they were at my wedding. If we're lucky, he's still in London. He probably is, he's very close to his mother. I think I might know where they live. Perhaps we could pay him a visit on Wednesday. What do you think, love?" she said or rather blurted out, she was so excited.
He had to admit it was a good idea, but there were some loose ends. "But how are we going to convince him to testify? He wouldn't risk becoming a suspect to save Arthur... Besides, your parents probably paid him a good amount to keep his mouth shut."
"You leave that to me" she winked again and Sweeney gulped, hoping she didn't mean what he thought she meant. But he quickly composed himself. Because he did not care. He definitely did not care if she slept with that Collins or the whole London if she wanted to as long as it helped in their plan to free Arthur. But he pitied the poor lad, he would be eloping with a strumpet and he clearly had no idea. In any case, it wasn't his problem so with the promise of meeting her tomorrow at noon to look for Collins, he bid her a good night and went up to his room.
The place felt empty without Lucy and Johanna, that was the first thing that struck him when he opened the door. After a couple of months with his family, he had forgotten how cold the little apartment could be without them. Even these past few weeks, when Lucy barely spoke to him, her angelic presence lightened up the room and Johanna's baby giggles were always a welcoming sound when returned from work. He'd finally remembered what home felt like and now that he'd sent his family away, he once again felt alone in those four walls. His first instinct was to go back down to Eleanor, to the warmth of her parlour to have a drink with her like he always did when loneliness threatened to overwhelm him. But he thought against it, he could not go back to her after what happened today. He owed Lucy that much.
When his stomach rumbled, he thought of Eleanor again. Even when he didn't have much of an appetite, a consequence of the mangy 'meals' they gave him in Botany Bay, she never failed to bring him up a tray of food that he eventually did take a bite or two of, enough to survive until he finally got the judge. He couldn't deny her dishes were delicious. He had not eaten since the morning and the soup and sausages she'd mentioned earlier sounded heavenly... but he settled for the left over pea mash from the day before. When he opened the small icebox he noticed the chicken he'd bought that morning and sighed, knowing he'd have to ask Eleanor for help to prepare it if he didn't want that shilling to go to waste.
After dinner, he lay in bed. The double mattress felt too big for just one person, the empty space next to him colder than ever. He suddenly found himself thinking about the creaking narrow cot he used to have in his original timeline. She'd probably sold the double bed as soon as she had the chance like she did with almost everything that reminded her of his wife and the love he had for her, practically forcing him to stay the night in her soft mattress after he was done shagging her. It was always much warmer down there... But he would not go down to seek her company tonight, let alone share her bed. No, he would not cave in. He would not jeopardise what he had with Lucy for a few moments of bliss in the arms of that woman. He hugged his wife's pillow, hoping her the sweet aroma of her hair lulled him to sleep but it was to no avail. He tossed and turned until he got tired and simply stared at the ceiling.
Morpheus did not come but more thoughts of Eleanor did. Because aside from that brief moment of solemnity, the woman he'd seen today had been the Eleanor he knew. Talkative, warm, excitable, crafty, cheeky and so bold in her seduction. Even if she didn't love him now, if she just kissed him to get back at Lucy, he could not deny that the touch of her lips was the same, as was the softness of her butt he got to feel over her dress, the tight warmth that he knew awaited him under her skirts... He was beginning to get aroused again and for a brief second, he thought about taking the matters into his own hands but he spotted the mittens she'd knitted for him so his hands didn't freeze when he left to shave in the chilly London mornings. He loved her, so much it hurt and he could not do this to her. So he resumed his staring at the ceiling trying to ignore his hard member, waiting for the sun to come up to mark the beginning of a new day. In two weeks he would have his wife back and Mrs. Lovett gone forever. In two weeks, he could finally start living.
All of a sudden, a sound broke him out of his thoughts. A door and the unmistakable sound of Eleanor's dainty steps going up the stairs. He looked at the clock, almost midnight. He panicked, what could she want from him at this hour? She didn't even go up to his apartment during the day but then again, Lucy was always home... He tried to convince himself that there must be a logical explanation for this nightly visit. Perhaps she had a rat in her room and couldn't wake Albert up, perhaps it had something to do with her husband, maybe he'd finally stopped breathing courtesy of that mysterious sleeping potion she'd given him earlier; perhaps she just had another idea she couldn't wait to share until tomorrow... but when she opened the door without knocking as usual, clad in only a robe she quickly divested herself of, he knew her intentions were everything but pure.
"You awake?" she whispered but he could not have replied even if he wanted to. His mouth suddenly felt dry as he stared at her naked body silhouetted by the moonlight. He had to give it to her, she was very attractive, she was also very attractive in his other timeline and would probably be attractive in her sixties, not that he'd see her then if he could help it. She was a sight to behold, all curvy and sensual, beautiful and pale. But hers was a dangerous beauty, like that of the sirens tempting foolish sailors and bringing them to their deaths. The wise thing to do would be to feign indifference to her advances so he pretended to be asleep. Unfortunately, a part of him was very awake and she noticed despite the darkness, like the witch she was.
She approached him slowly but purposefully and before he knew it, she'd climbed on the bed and peeled the sheets back to crawl over his naked body so she was on top of him on all fours, like a lioness examining her prey before she killed him. She was so close he could smell her familiarly intoxicating aroma, all spices and flour and a hint of blood. Eleanor lowered herself slightly so her long wavy hair trickled his chest and his erection poked her stomach. He could practically see her smile in the dark. "Oh, yes. You are very awake"
"Get out" he managed to say but she didn't move. She only got closer to him to be able to whisper in his ear, her pointy nipples were now grazing his neck. So close to his hungry mouth... "You don't really mean that, do you? I can see you're lonely now that your silly little killjoy is gone... not that she gives you what you want, what you need" she paused and rubbed her wetness against the tip of his penis. "I, on the other hand, am very willing."
What happened next was a blur but he suddenly found himself grabbing her thigh and rolling them over so he was on top. His lips bruised against hers, his tongue demanding access that she gladly granted as the two battled for dominance. Her hands knotted in his hair while his own zealous ones travelled across her pliant body, grabbing, pinching, caressing every patch of skin. He easily found her core and he wasted no time inserting two digits into her, making her moan against his lips. He chose that moment to retreat, albeit only slightly, and moved South to her gloriously full breasts. He popped a hard nipple into his mouth, sucking hard as he rolled her other one with his free hand, eliciting yet another wanton moan that was music to his ears. He sped up his pumping and started rubbing her bundle of nerves with his thumb, sending her into a state of pleasure overload in which she screamed, trashed and writhed until she was spent.
Little minx, he thought as he retrieved his hand that was fully soaked in her fluids and offered it to her. She eagerly sucked on his fingers, clearly enjoying the taste of herself. She is so wanton, she has no shame and how it turned him on. Without further ado, he spread her legs open. Despite his obvious desire, he hesitated a little. He knew there was no going back once he did it and Lucy... he hadn't known she was alive in his other timeline but now he would be knowingly betraying her... But he was so hard, and she was so tempting, moving her pelvis forward and inching closer to his manhood. He loved Lucy... but she'd never know... Eleanor seemed to get tired of his indecisiveness because in one swift motion she lunged forward, trapping him in an embrace and flipping them over so she was now on top. Before he knew it, she had impaled herself on his aching cock. They both moaned in unison, she felt so good, none of his fantasies or memories did this moment justice and all his doubts and guilt vanished into thin air when he realised how right it felt, like two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together. She'd been made for loving him. She started moving, rocking her hips back and forth in a tortuously slow rhythm so he could feel every crevice, every spam of her tight slick walls. Soon enough, she sped up her movements and he gripped her hips, aiding her in setting a rapid pace.
He generally liked to have full control. Sweeney Todd thrived on domination, on presiding over life and death and he always got his way. In bed, however, he'd realised since he started sleeping with Eleanor that he didn't want his partner to just lie there like a corpse and take all he had. Letting her take the lead every once in a while was actually more fun... Still, he was a man and he'd be damned if he was going to let render him powerless. He sat up and latched his mouth to one of her bouncing breasts, biting roughly on her nipple as his hand once again found her swollen rosebud. She screamed and pulled him close, her movements became more erratic and he began thrusting up harder into her. He felt her contracting around him and he knew she was close. Sweeney himself was beginning to feel the familiar tinging of his much anticipated release. Suddenly her whole body trembled, her nails digging into his back as she came, screaming his name and milking him as she tightened impossibly around him. He was not far behind, with a loud grunt he pushed himself up to her cervix and filled her up with his seed.
When he was finally empty, he collapsed on his back with Eleanor falling on top of him. Neither of them moved nor spoke. They were aware of the implications of the sin they had just committed, of how their lives could be ruined if Lucy or worse, Albert, got word of it and of how things between them would inevitably change tomorrow when the magnitude of what they'd done crashed down on them. But for the moment they simply held each other, contently basking in the afterglow. He was exhausted. "You're so good to me, Sweeney" she said all of a sudden and all the alarm bells rang in his head. She called me Sweeney. The moon chose this moment to illuminate her face and he was startled to see it wasn't young Eleanor who rested on his chest but his Eleanor, the one who shared his bed every night in his other timeline, the one he'd grown to care for and the one who ultimately betrayed him.
"How?" was the only thing he could say but she just giggled. Angrily, he pushed her off him. He refused to believe she had followed him to this timeline, he knew she couldn't coexist with her younger self, it was impossible. Granted, Sweeney Todd pretty much going back in time and inhabiting young Benjamin's body would have seemed impossible too a few months ago but this... this was too much. "You wanted me, so I came" she said nonchalantly. She was sitting on her heels, still completely naked, staring at him with those big doe eyes of hers that now seemed to glow in the dark. She was out of this world. "I love you, Sweeney Todd" she said as she pressed her lips against him one last time.
The next thing he knew, he was waking up in bed completely disoriented and covered in sweat. The sticky sheets around him and his wet undergarments confirmed his suspicions. It had all been a dream.
A/N: my awesome friend Angelfireally has written a hilarious one shot that takes place right after this chapter! It's already posted on ao3 but it will soon be coming to wattpad! Her name here is Alyssalong8. Don't miss it! Xxxx