A/N: Special thanks to startraveller776 for looking this chapter over for me!


Part 6: Your Slave

Sarah stood in front of the bathing chamber door for a long time before she was able to force herself to pull it open and step across the threshold.

She was naked, not having been given a towel this time – not needing one, either, since her body had magically dried itself as soon as she stepped out of the tub. Even the ends of her hair, which had trailed into the water – or, more likely, been splashed by her writhing around in the tub, she thought with a blush – was dry. Not only dry, but smooth, untangled, falling down her back in thick waves.

Exactly the way she wanted it to look and could never seem to manage without a trip to the hairdresser and the application of about a metric ton of product.

Her eyes darted around the circular chamber, seeing nothing out of place – and no one in place, as it were.

She was alone.

Not that that gave her any sense of peace; she'd been "alone" in the bathing chamber when Jareth decided to visit her with his invisible presence. For all she knew, he was here now, watching her.

Well, let him watch. She straightened her back, stuck out her chin, and stepped boldly across the threshold.

A clapping sound – slow, sardonic – echoed through the chamber. She turned her head sharply in the direction the sound was coming from. Near the fireplace.

There was Jareth stretched out on one of the two wing chairs that had materialized there, feet elegantly crossed at the ankles and resting on the ottoman, hands still pressed together as he finished clapping. "Well done, Sarah. You've conquered the perils of crossing from one room to the next, and managed it without any help from me." He raised an eyebrow, lips twisted in a smile as sardonic as his clapping had been. "Whatever will you do for an encore?"

There he was, the aloof, sarcastic, maddening Goblin King. Mocking her. After everything he'd done to her, both in this chamber and the one she'd just vacated, after all the pleasure he'd wrung from her (mostly) unwilling body…he had the nerve to make fun of her?

Enough, Sarah decided, was enough. She strode over to his side, as close as she could get without touching him, and glared down at his still-smirking face. Her hand itched to slap the grin off that (gorgeous, exotic, enticing) evil face of his, but she restrained herself.

Barely.

Instead, she did something that took a great deal more courage: she straddled him, knees pressed into the narrow space between hips and chair arms, wound her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

oOo

Jareth felt his breath catch in his throat as Sarah boldly straddled him, her fingers toying with the fly-away strands of his hair, her lips pressed against his, her tongue sliding against his lips in an unmistakable invitation.

One he had no intention of ignoring.

Of their own volition his arms encircled her, pulling her more firmly against his heated form, ensuring that she could feel the shape of his arousal – the arousal she'd caused by her aggressiveness – against her sex.

The smallest part of his mind wondered at her sudden change in tactics; she'd seemed so intent on playing the victim to his villain when he'd come to her the first time that this radical alteration made him question whether she hadn't been slipped some potion while he left her in the bathing chamber.

Of course, he knew no such thing had occurred; none in his realm would dare interfere in his plans for this woman, and none outside his realm knew she was there…and again, would either not dare or not care to interfere.

Whatever the reason, he thought as his fingers tangled themselves in her hair, tugging on the silky strands, he liked it. A great deal.

But not so much that he wouldn't question it…and her.

He tightened his grip on her hair, knotting a handful of it and forcing her face away from his. She gasped, eyes widening at the sudden violence. Good. He never wanted her to forget who he was, to believe that she could anticipate his wants or mood the way he could – and always would – anticipate hers.

Even the ones she, herself, was unaware of.

"What?" she squeaked out, a thread of fear in her voice and eyes. "I thought you wanted…"

"I do," he replied curtly, keeping his gaze cold and steady on hers, his hand sliding down to capture her wrist when he felt her start to lift her body up and away from his. Keeping her in place as he pulled his legs off the ottoman and planted them on the floor. "What I don't know is what you think you're doing."

Her eyes blazed with fury, but not before he saw the hurt and confusion in them. The combination was potent, arousing him further, but he remained still and watchful as she struggled futilely against his hold, clawing at the hand wrapped around her wrist, twisting her body against his. "Giving you what you want," she spat out.

He frowned at this untruth. "No, Sarah," he hissed, thrusting his face closer to hers, mouth hovering over hers as he hurled his accusation. "You're giving me what you think I want. A body to use, nothing more. But you know it's not just your body I crave."

As abruptly as his fury had risen, it subsided. He eased his grip on her hair and wrist, turning his face to nuzzle at the soft flesh beneath her ear as he whispered: "I want your heart as well."

"You can't…you can't have it," she replied, just as softly but with a great deal of unsteadiness in her voice. Good, he approved of her uncertainty; he'd rather have that honest confusion than any false capitulation.

"Oh, I think I already have it, sweet," he murmured, his voice still soft, gentle, although his eyes still held a dangerous glint.

She'd stopped fighting his grip, stopped trying to raise herself from his body.

Perhaps he needed to show her what she would be missing if she did.

With a thought his clothing vanished, and Sarah Williams was left straddling a very naked, very aroused Goblin King.

oOo

She'd decided, in the split second it took her to register his presence on the chair in front of the fireplace, that it was time to try and beat him at his own game. Well, maybe not beat him, but at least level the playing field.

He'd kidnapped her here (brought her exactly where she wanted to be, her mind whispered) and intended to have sex with her (make love to her, that same part of her mind whispered, while her conscience snapped shut up!), so if it really was as inevitable as that, why not take some initiative?

And now he…what? Didn't want her unless she was cowering and hiding from him?

She wished it was something as simple as that. No, instead, he'd asked her for the one thing she'd never offered to another living being outside her immediate family.

Her heart.

How could she give it to him when she was so conflicted, when she barely knew her own mind? When she was struggling with the passion he'd so easily aroused in her (formerly) untouched body?

His clothes vanished, and she gasped at the sudden feel of a naked, highly aroused man between her legs. His cock pressed insistently against her sex, the head tickling her abdomen, and she felt a flush spread over her as she dared a peek downward.

She'd seen pictures, of course, illicit movies and magazines with giggling teenaged friends when the parents were away, but it was nothing compared to the reality.

A reality she was terrified to contemplate…and craved as much as Jareth claimed to crave her heart.

As she raised her eyes to meet his, he finally released his punishing grip on wrist and hip, sliding both hands down until his fingers cradled her bottom, fingers meeting and sliding against the puckered opening (ohgodohgodohgod it wasn't supposed to feel so good, something so depraved and disgusting but it did and she couldn't believe she was half-hoping his explorations would take him deeper but there it was, that sick desire she could no more repress than she could stop his invisible touch on her body in the bath).

He offered a lazy, knowing smile as her lips parted in a gasp, lifting her and sliding her core against his heated shaft as easily as if she were a hollow-boned bird he'd found in the grass. She gasped again as she realized how easily she was sliding against him, the friction caused by her moist opening glazing him, coating him, giving her arousal away.

She hadn't just wanted to try and beat him at his own game. She wanted him to take her. She was suddenly tired of fighting her own desires, her own secret longings.

She'd saved herself for him. He knew it, she knew it; why deny it?

As if he read her capitulation in her eyes, Jareth's smile deepened into something dark and knowing. Pulling her tightly against his body, he rose to his feet and carried her unprotesting form to the bed.

Somewhere between those first few steps and the moment he laid her upon the coverlet, Sarah must have closed her eyes, because when she looked past the Goblin King's shoulder, she found they'd been transported to a completely different room.

Gone was the peach nightmare of a tower prison. Although the walls surrounding them were still cold, grey stone interrupted by a fireplace and a few narrow windows, the walls were now square. The hangings and coverlet on the bed were a deep scarlet, and the tapestries on the wall appeared to depict scenes of hunting and battles, although Sarah was given very little time to contemplate them before Jareth's lips came crashing down on hers.

As his body covered hers, Sarah felt her last vestiges of resistance collapse; as his tongue demanded entry to her mouth, she found herself surrendering utterly. He wanted her body and her heart, and there was no way she could deny him either.

She'd fought them for so long, those feelings that had frightened and confused her as a fifteen-year-old girl. She pushed them away, deep down in her psyche, until she'd convinced herself they didn't exist.

And Jareth pulled them out of her with such ease that she should have known he was right all along.

oOo

She was his. He could feel the surrender in her, the way she allowed him to plunder her mouth, the way she pushed her breasts into his hands when he cupped them, the way she willingly slid her legs apart when he lowered himself onto her body.

Not just her body, either; he could feel the rapid beat of her heart as she offered it up to him, the way he'd always known she would – the way he demanded that she do.

She'd come dangerously close to destroying his kingdom three mortal years ago; how much damage would she be able to wreak once he brought her back there, introduced her as his queen and helped her to tap into the hidden powers she'd always held locked away inside her heart and soul?

He allowed himself a satisfied smile as he thought: There is truly only one way to find out.

Then he captured her lips for another searing kiss, sliding the fingers of one hand down between her legs, slipping a single digit inside and listening complacently as she moaned her pleasure. He slid a second finger inside, stretching her a bit, readying her for the discomfort to come – although, come to that, why should she be forced to endure such discomfort, when he had the means to make this moment one of pure pleasure?

"Say the words, Sarah," he growled against her throat, suddenly impatient to be inside her, to feel her surrounding him the way he'd dreamed for far too long. "Tell me what you want. Fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave," he declared, the same words he'd once used to try and woo her into staying by his side.

"I want…you," she finally managed to pant out as he pressed a series of feverish kisses to the column of her throat. She mewled in disappointment as he pulled his fingers from deep inside her, then cried out in pleasure as he pressed his cock against her entrance instead. "I want you inside me," she gasped, blushing furiously as if her bold words embarrassed her.

Foolish mortal, to be embarrassed by a simple, honest expression of desire. "As you wish," he said with a dark, upward curl of his lips.

oOo

Sarah braced herself for the pain, the burn of losing her virginity, fingers clenching against Jareth's shoulders as he held himself above her, guiding himself into her with one hand. She felt the head of his cock pressing against her entrance, slipping into her opening, pushing, pushing, pushing himself deep inside her…

She opened her eyes and stared at Jareth in shock as she realized that he was fully inside her. There was none of the starting and stopping her best friend from high school had whispered to her about; none of the burning ache that signified virginity lost, none of the frantic hip-bucking and tentative thrusting she'd described as part of the process.

No, Jareth was fully, deeply, comfortably inside her, and his wicked, knowing smile informed her that yes, he'd expected her shocked reaction. "Were you expecting pain, love?" he murmured, his grin deepening into something seductive, something that sent a shiver through her entire body, from the tips of her toes to the ends of her hair. "Sorry to disappoint…perhaps I can indulge you some other time?"

Then he'd moved against her, thrusting into her, one hand gripping her hip, the other grasping her hair as she gasped and moaned at the raw jolt of pleasure that sizzled through her body at the movement.

He thrust again, and again, her hips rising to meet his as she fell, helpless and intoxicated, beneath the passionate spell he was weaving about her through the medium of simple, primal rutting.

It was everything she'd ever fantasized it would be, and nothing at all what she'd expected.

In a word, perfect.

As she spiraled toward orgasm, she managed one simple, searing thought.

I love him.