Thorns And Roses

Chapter Twenty

When Sweeney woke in the grey light of the rainy morning, he was aware of soft hair tickling his nose. He opened his eyes with a start and was surprised to see the sleeping form of the baker until he remembered just what exactly they had got up to the night before. They had been intimate more than once during the night and it had been the wildest, most passionate sex he had ever had. He felt like he was a teenager again.

Sniffing, he stared down at Eleanore for a little while to catch his thoughts. Her legs had moved to the side of the bed, but her head was on his abdomen - her crimson ringlets were spread out and her one arm thrown around him in an embrace. Sweeney studied her face for quite some time, knowing that he needed to get up soon and dress and open his shop in hopes that finally, today of all days the Judge would come in and he would have his revenge. But right now he didn't think about revenge, right now he took a solid minute to just look at Eleanore Lovett and he realised he'd chosen a very beautiful woman to lay with.

That first night he'd slept with her felt far away now, but despite its pleasure, he had felt it was a mistake and she was more of a conquest and a toy than one would say a lover. Now it felt all wrong. Confusing. She was like something else entirely now, and it frightened him a little.

Sweeney gulped and wondered if it would be the worst thing in the world to have a little companionship after so long without Lucy. Immediately when he thought of his late wife a sense of guilt and sadness washed over him but he pushed it away hard and it was gone as soon as it came. Lucy was Benjamin's. What's dead was dead. Lucy had died with Benjamin fifteen long years ago. But Eleanore wasn't Sweeneys, yet she felt like his. Despite how much he could deny it, he enjoyed having some claim over her and the very idea of claiming her completely was something that wasn't nearly as unappealing as it used to be. She would neither be a girlfriend or a lover, she could merely be his to have.

"Eleanore," he whispered, and when that wasn't enough to wake her, he stroked a few stray curls off her face and murmured a little louder, "Nellie."

She blinked her eyes open with a start and for a second she thought she was dreaming. The body and arms around her were not that of Toby's, but that of Sweeney's and he was holding her - actually holding her and she couldn't believe that this was real, yet. When she did, her chocolate eyes filled with emotion, sheer joy, and there was a sharp tug in Sweeney's chest that made him extremely uncomfortable.

Panicking at the sensation he cleared his throat and snapped "Get off me. We have to open our shops, we're late."

"Oh. I'm sorry, Sweeney." That beautiful glimmer of happiness faded at once from her eyes and she scrambled up and back away from him. She held the sheet to her chest and tucked a curl behind her ear as she sat back against the pillows, a little deflated.

Sweeney found himself regretting the way he'd spoken to her. He licked his bottom lip and spoke gently this time "Did you... sleep well?"

A small smile curved at the corner of her lips and she nodded "I did love, 'ope you did too."

"I did." He responded, standing up in his nude form and reaching for his trousers on the floor. Eleanore tried not to stare but she simply couldn't help it. He was such a handsome man and she loved him more than anything. Far more than she could ever love herself.

Sweeney buckled his trousers and glanced over to Eleanore still upon the bed. Her hair was a little messy but she still looked exquisite despite just waking up. The thin duvet of her bed did little to hide her body and he felt the familiar sense of want course through him. He craved her again. Even though they had been at it like rabbits the other night he still craved her body. Her eyes were upon him, the same look she had given him that first night in front of the fire when she'd told him she loved him. Again he felt that uncomfortable tightness in his stomach and he looked away, afraid to go where those eyes of hers would take him.