They keep up that pretence of actually settling down to sleep for long enough that she starts to worry. If he was serious, if he meant what he said earlier, there's a good chance they're actually going to have sex tonight, and she thinks the anticipation might just actually be killing her. In her mind, she's nineteen again – a virgin, whispering hopeless wishes for the man she wants to want her, too. She may be more experienced now, but that same tightness in her chest, that empty, vulnerable feeling just won't go away; if he lets her hopes down this time, she doesn't know how she's ever going to recover.
They're in her bed in the dark, wearing far more nightclothes than they should be, a fresh t-shirt for her, and cool white silk to keep her from feeling the heat of his body, even if he did move in closer. The amount of distance he's left between them is almost painful, as is the uncertainty he's left her with. When she wakes up in the mornings to find him already hard and ready for her, there's no question of what he wants, but this … this is different. A certain amount of – dare she think it? – actual seduction seems to be required here, and after so long without so much as even a date, she's fresh out of the stuff.
For far too long, Jareth doesn't say a word. Then, when her heartbeat has finally reached fever-pitch, he gives a loud sigh.
“You know, it's quite unseemly for a king to have to make all of the moves, all of the time, love.”
She smiles in the darkness, stifling the immediate urge to turn and throw her arms around him. “I didn't want to presume anything, Your Highness. I'm sorry. ”
“If you truly want to earn my forgiveness, I have plenty of suggestions on how to start.”
Any guidance would be welcome right about now. She shuffles back a little, not quite enough to touch him, but it's a start – a slow one, her eager body can't help but remind her. Get to the point, her libido all but howls. It's silly to actually feel shy after what's already happened between them – she's sucked his cock, for christsake – but she can feel the heat creeping over her face and neck all the same, blushing in the dark like a schoolgirl with a crush. God, she wants him, but she needs to know whether these sordid encounters are just ones of convenience, or of actual longing – whether he wakes up wanting her, or just the nearest available source of pleasure. With a deep, steadying breath, she decides to just bite the bullet.
She screws her eyes shut, and the words just flow out of her mouth like venom from a wound. “When you joked about 'fucking me senseless'-”
“What on earth gave you the impression I was joking? Regardless, go on.”
She swallows hard. Focus, Sarah. “Why now?”
Jareth clucks his tongue. “Don't tell me you want me to wait until morning again.”
“That's not what I meant. I mean, is this a recent thing, or …?”
“What, wanting to fuck you senseless, you mean? Not really, no. I can safely say I've had the urge a while.”
Oh. Oh, my. The blunt admission of it threatens to steal her breath, but she makes herself go on. “Why not years ago, then, if this is what you wanted – to … to fuck me?”
There's a long silence in which she doesn't quite dare to breathe, and then: “It's only now that we're bound together that your interest seems to have been roused. Before this, I was under the impression I wouldn't be welcomed into your bed. You only ever showed interest in me once, love – and even that was only a fleeting thought, years ago … a passing fantasy while you were with a … shall we say, less than suitable man. Tempting, yes, but hardly appropriate for me to intervene. You did wish to stop imagining me, after all.”
He's talking about that night with Jay again, she realises; how that whole messy period of her life seems to be coming back to haunt her recently. She can only hope the Goblin King hasn't noticed her apparent fixation with wild-haired blonds. Still, it hurts to think Jareth has either forgotten, or chosen to ignore her true call to him – the night long before, when she was ready to lose her virginity; the night when she had been ready to give him everything. She forces herself to skirt around that subject, unwilling to let herself get upset over that long-ago night, when this one holds much sweeter possibilities.
“You've known I've always … had a crush on you,” she admits. “I would've lo- … really liked this to have happened sooner.” Whatever 'this' is. “I just never really thought you'd want to.” There's a warmth spreading over her whole body with the realisation that, if nothing else, he's at least lusted after her for some time. “So, back then, when I was fantasising with Jay-”
He grunts softly. “I would have replaced him in a heartbeat, if you had so wished.”
A shiver ripples through her, and she can't help it in the slightest. “Why didn't you say something? Tell me what I was missing out on?”
Whether it's because of the way her voice is trembling with her need, or purely out of his own desire, she doesn't know, but Jareth finally reaches out and starts to stroke her hip. His fingers send electricity through her veins as he starts to inch up her t-shirt. “It wasn't my place to put my own desires into your head, Sarah. It never has been. Your wishes have always come from you, and you alone. As I told you before, I've always found you attractive, love, and with any other woman – one who hadn't bested me and turned me down – this would have been far simpler.”
His tone is serious, but it grows lighter and flirtatious as he leans in and brings his mouth to her ear. “Now, are you going to keep me wanting you until morning again, or do I get to touch you right now? I know you're wet enough for it.”
Oh, how that makes her blush, grateful he can't see it. She wants to dwell on the bombshell that he's just dropped on her, demand to know just how long he's wanted to touch her - her - without saying a word, but the heat of his mouth is so delightfully distracting. “You're usually such a gentleman until morning.”
“Mmm. Perhaps, but fair warning: I have absolutely no intention of continuing to be gentlemanly this evening. In fact, if it's just the same to you, I intend to be downright obscene.”
That word, spoken in his voice seems to reverberate directly between her thighs, sending her eyes rolling wildly in the dark. She has to bite down on her tongue for a moment before she dares to speak. “Now who's being presumptuous?”
He laughs. “I'd hardly class it as 'presumptuous', with your earlier behaviour. Do I even have to ask what that little look you threw me in the kitchen was all about?”
Shit. Her breath catches in her throat, far too loudly in the dark. “I don't know what you mean.”
“Oh, I think you do, precious. In fact, I know you do. You were on your knees, all but begging me to have my way with you.”
She can't help but stiffen, hoping that he can't feel the tension through the bed. “Take my word for it – I'll never beg you for anything, Goblin King.”
Jareth tuts softly. “So very formal, Miss Williams. And here I thought we were on better terms with one another … much better terms, given how well you've responded to me so far.”
He moves in a little closer, and there's no question of just how well he's starting to respond, too, the heat and weight of him apparent even through their clothes. His breath warms the nape of her neck as he leans in, giving her shoulder a little nip through her t-shirt. The hand at her hip is barely skimming her flesh, but sends her pulse racing all the same. His words are so very hot against her ear.
“Admit it – you've been lying there, wondering, waiting, wanting for me to touch you, haven't you, love? Wondering just when my hands are going to slip around your delicious body in the dark. Or are you finding yourself craving more than just my fingers to make you sigh and moan?”
“Maybe it's my mouth you find yourself in need of again,” those sinful lips brush her earlobe to say. “Is that what you want, my naughty little Sarah; to be on your back, your legs spread wide, with my tongue thrust inside you? I wonder how many times I could bring you to orgasm that way, all wet and writhing against my face, until you begged me to stop … and I can make you beg me, love, and all without laying a single finger between your lovely thighs.”
She doesn't doubt it – despite her bravado, she's close to begging already, the sound of her laboured breathing painfully loud in the dark. Between his words, and the growing, throbbing length of him pressed flush against her ass, she can't possibly endure this much longer; it's torture, but still he goes on.
“Sarah.” Her name alone sends hot little prickles along the nape of her neck, and her belly flip-flops just waiting for what he'll say next. “You're not trying to use my voice as a sex aid, now are you, love? You're not getting all hot and bothered in the dark, pressing your thighs together to stave off that craving, that need for all the wicked little things I want to do to you … are you?”
“Maybe even my lips and tongue aren't enough to satisfy you tonight,” he muses. “I can feel you trembling, Sarah. Could it be there's more you want from me?” When she doesn't reply, can't possibly form words, he goes on heedless. “Don't worry, I know just what you want – what you need. You need to have my cock inside you, don't you, pet?”
His words tease more of her wetness to pool between her thighs, and she can't stay still any longer. She presses her legs together as he said, as tightly as she possibly can, but it does nothing to soothe the ache between them; only he can tend to that, and she loves and hates him for knowing it.
“The chain adds to the excitement, doesn't it, Sarah? Trapped with me … bound to me, and utterly powerless to resist. You are a wicked woman, aren't you? Wishing for this … for us to be together this way. Do you know what my wish would be, love?” His rich voice washes over her, sending every nerve-ending firing, her skin alive with wild sparks of pleasure. “I wish to feel you as you come for me … around me. I want to feel just how hot and wet your delectable little cunt is as it squeezes around my cock. I want to be buried in you … deep in you …”
She hears a low moan against her neck, feels the vibrations running through her skin, and knows she isn't the only one such filthy words are affecting. “Enough games. Tell me what you want to do, love. We can do anything you want, just tell me. Now.”
“Jareth.” Her own voice is little more than a whisper. “Jareth, please, I need you to fuck me.”
“Mmm … with pleasure. I thought you'd never ask.”
Look who's talking. It's what she's been waiting what feels like a lifetime for, needing him to need her the same way she's always desired him, and she's a little afraid of just how hard her heart is beating in her excitement. He slides a hand around her waist, and she almost thinks he'll take her just like this, but then he's urging her to turn to him, urging her to face him. Oh, god help her, she does, rolling her body towards him, turning under their chained arms like any dancer, ready to meet him in the most heated, primal dance of all.
There's a soft murmur – more of his magic – and then light flares around them, too soft to be her bedroom's single harsh bulb, but bright enough to leave her staring into his eyes, seeing the dark longing in his stare. That's the need she's craved all these years, no doubt of it now with those eyes only inches away from her own, but there's no time to revel in it as he closes the distance between them.
His hands move to claim her hips, and then to her utter surprise, she finds his mouth pressed against her own. He's kissing her, or trying to at least; shock freezes her in place, and after several seconds of getting no response, Jareth pulls back. “Too much?” he asks.
“No,” she manages, heart and lips on fire. “Surprised me, is all. You've never-”
“After that one little show we put on, you've never seemed to want to look me in the eye long enough to try again. I thought I'd finally take the chance.” His lips brush hers as he speaks, his voice lowering. “Can I try again?”
This time, he succeeds. She kisses him back with a passion, relishing in the heat, the hunger of his mouth against her own. It starts off slow and sensual, a teasing of tongues and the lightest graze of teeth against the swell of her lower lip, but quickly grows in intensity. Jareth pulls her leg over his hip, and there's no question of how much he wants her too, not with the solid shape of his cock pressed flush against her inner thigh. They rock together that way a while, savouring the sensation as their tongues twine together, but soon it's clear that both of them need more.
He doesn't cover her body with his own, but rolls her on top of him instead, and she straddles his hips without hesitation. The heat of his erection is palpable even through the thin layers of their clothing, and she rubs herself against it at once, thrilled to have him so very close, thrilled to realise that she alone is responsible for the way he moans. She has a king at her mercy, beneath her, clenched between her thighs, and the naked lust in his eyes makes her movements feel all the more powerful as she strokes him with her own heat.
She's waited far too long for this, to feel him like this, and she's elated and almost dizzy with her excitement, but she takes her real pleasure in driving him wild. She grinds more firmly on him, letting the full length of him stroke along her lace-covered slit until he's groaning aloud and bucking under her. She knows he's reached the edge of his control when he reaches between them, quick to free himself, before turning his attention to her. He's impatient; he doesn't just tug her underwear aside as she expects, but actually tears them open at the crotch, baring her at once. She gives a heated moan at the sound, her body shocked into more wetness that's now free to bathe his cock. It's too much, feeling the heat of his bare skin so very close, and with one fluid movement, she takes him in her hand, raises up, and guides him deep inside her.
“Fuck.” There's a giddy little thrill in hearing the word forced from his lips, just from having her wet heat wrapped around him, an even deeper satisfaction in the way his head simply slams back against the pillows as his body arches beneath her, into her. “So tight.”
She has to agree, revelling in the way her body grips him, just how well he fills her. She moans deep within her throat, and lets her hands trail briefly along his flat stomach up to his chest. Between the two of them, they manage to tug her t-shirt up over her head, so that it lies bunched between her shoulder-blades. She sees the hunger in his eyes when he yanks down her bra to free her breasts, and, feeling wicked, she squeezes him hard inside her. He gives a low growl and bites his lip, and then his eyes are boring into her own again, blazing hot with lust.
“Fuck. Me,” he demands, but she's already way ahead of him as her own body screams for friction.
Her hips rise and fall, her body sliding like silk along his thick shaft, and then taking him to the hilt again. His hips move to greet her, thrusting hard as she rides him, duelling for dominance. She has him flat on his back, pinned between her thighs, but he's far from passive, bucking upwards to fill her deeply, repaying her hunger tenfold.
With a hard tug on their chain, he pulls her body down to him, both their hands twining on the pillows above his head as he uses this new position to turn his mouth onto her breasts. His lips tighten around her left nipple, laving it with the hot tip of his tongue as his hips keep up their hard rhythm, driving himself deep inside her. Before he relinquishes her breast, he grazes it with his teeth, sending a bolt of electricity directly to her throbbing clit. A moan escapes her, but he's already pulling her lips to his, silencing her, tongue-fucking her willing mouth with the same demanding rhythm as down below.
Rocking atop him, taking him hard and deep, she can feel her orgasm building, her body drawing taut, ready to give to him, ready to surrender to that pleasure as it swells out of control inside her. She breaks their kiss, gasping, moaning, and presses her forehead to his. She's close, so very close, the intense anticipation forcing her eyes to squeeze shut. Then, she feels his hand at her cheek, urging them open.
“Look at me, love,” he pants. “I want you to look at me when you come.”
Eyes locked, bodies rising and falling in union, he takes her over the edge, those icy-blue eyes burning into her own as her orgasm washes over her. She rides him through it, giving him everything, taking in the delectable sight of him reaching his own climax beneath her. His lips part as he moans her name, giving one last hard thrust upward as he shoots deep inside her. She can feel him throbbing even through the pleasurable contractions in her own body, crying out with him as they come together, their bodies fused in matching, magnetic lust.
Oh, what they've been missing all these years.
Jareth throws his head back against the pillows, breathing hard and laughing softly. “Good gods. Good gods. Oh, Sarah … I never thought …well, fuck.”
Then he's grinning, running his free hand up along the length of her spine and back again, all the way down to cup her ass. His other hand tangles in her hair, bringing her own hand up with it, and as he kisses her, she brushes stray golden strands back from his forehead, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. When she eventually – reluctantly – makes to climb off of him, he urges her to sit back in place.
“Oh, no, pet, by all means stay right where you are.” He urges her down for a brief kiss, continuing with a string of them along her jawline, before confiding to her right ear. “Now I'm inside you, I find myself very, very reluctant to leave,” he murmurs, before reclaiming her lips.
As she returns his kiss, deliciously slow, hedonistic this time, she can only hope he means it.
She eventually pulls back from his gratifying mouth and bends her head to the hollow of his throat, tasting the faint salt of his sweat that's pooled there, feeling the soft throbbing of his pulse against her lips. She feels almost drunk on pleasure, having him here like this, beneath her, inside her, touching her and welcoming her touch. A soft sigh escapes her as he urges her to relax atop him, his free hand at the small of her back, the other cradling the nape of her neck, drawing her head down against his shoulder.
He gives a low murmur against her hair. “Mmm. Doesn't it feel good to be rid of all that tension you were carrying?”
She nods, not trusting herself to speak, content for now just to press her face against the crook of his neck, breathing him in. His fingers feel like heaven as they stroke through her hair. The hand at her lower back traces one of the dimples there, making her shiver, and Jareth hums low in his throat.
“Another sweet spot? You've been holding out on me, love.”
“A girl's got to have some secrets.”
“Hmm. In that case, I'll enjoy trying to draw every last one out of you,” he says, running a fingertip from one side of her back to the other.
She can't help smiling against his neck. Her heart is still racing inside her chest, a happiness that she just can't contain swelling up beside it. She starts to laugh, and hears Jareth sigh.
“Oh, what's this? Outright laughter at my performance now?” he teases. “How disappointing. You do realise this means I'm going to have to try again …and again … and again.” He punctuates this last by giving her ass a firm squeeze.
“I'm just …” Utterly fulfilled. Ecstatic. Hopelessly, helplessly in love. “ … happy.”
“I should hope so. I trust I've managed to rid you of that bitter disappointment and positively fearsome anger you experienced when you first found yourself chained to me?”
Laughing, she runs a hand over his chest, tracing a lazy circle around one nipple. “Completely, but that was the best sex I've had in a long time, so I'm liable to say just about anything right now.”
“My lady doth say the sweetest things.”
“Your lady is a little overwhelmed right now,” she confesses, unable to hold back her grin at being his lady, even though it's just a figure of speech. “These last couple of days have just been- …. I mean, the sex – god, the sex – not to mention the … heh, other stuff. You just … you manage to charm just about everyone you meet, you sweep in like some romantic hero to save me from that slimy asshole at the party…” She trails off for a minute, then finally dares to ask. “Jareth?”
“What exactly did you say to that Richard guy? He looked terrified.”
At first, she doesn't think he'll answer, but after a brief pause he speaks up. “I simply advised him that if he continues to prey on young women in that manner, he should be aware of my habit of devouring silly, pretty little boys just like him for breakfast.”
She goes very still, but then the audacity of it causes her to howl laughter. When her giggles start to taper off, she pictures the look of abject terror on Richard's face, now that she knows the exact cause, and it sets fresh delight rippling through her belly, laughing harder than ever. Oh, but then the other man is driven from her thoughts entirely, when the vibrations from her laughter cause her lover to stir to life deep inside her, his cock throbbing anew.
“Already?” she gasps.
“Always,” he replies, already reaching up to kiss her.
Their mouths meet, but it's less urgent this time, slower and more sensual. Despite the growing hardness of him inside her, he makes no effort to start moving just yet, perhaps wanting to draw that delicious seduction out even longer. She undulates a little, stirring him inside her, thinking of sex and Jareth, Jareth and sex; Jareth and other pale, toned, writhing bodies, and sex. It's a decidedly hot thought, working her up just as much as that gentle friction is doing, and in the end she just has to ask.
“Do you really … you know … with guys too?”
He gives her a lazy grin. “Not any more, but at one point in the seventies, yes.” Before she can question further, he clarifies. “I mean the seventies, love, not the nineteen-seventies – ancient world, and all that. Everyone was doing it. I tried it, but my personal preference has always been … mmm … an irresistible pull towards women. Quite irresistible, I find.”
He urges her up to a sitting position again, lifting up off the pillows with her so that she's seated in his lap. He starts to nuzzle at her right breast, one arm bracing the small of her back as he gives her a couple of slow, testing thrusts. “I trust you don't have a problem with it, as our good friend Richard seemed to.”
She shakes her head, gently starting to move with him. “Of course not. People should get to love whoever they want to love.” It's hard to meet his gaze with her own love wanting to break free of her chest, and so she quickly goes on. “Sleep with whoever they want to sleep with, I mean. Oh ... oh, god.”
“Mmm. Quite. And if it so happens I have no intention whatsoever of sleeping at all tonight?”
If her smile stretches any wider, she's certain it would touch her ears. “I could go for that.”
He pauses to nip at her lower lip, his next words little more than a growl as his free hand slips down between their bodies to tease at her swollen clit. “You can go for me as many times as you like, love.”
They manage to devour each other again, long before any thoughts of morning or anything else can emerge. Only when she's sated and pleasantly sore does he relent, spooning her once more as she drifts off to sleep in his arms.