Thank you to everyone that has reviewed or messaged me with their kind thoughts about this story. I'm very sorry about the delay on this chapter, but unfortunately life does sometimes get in the way. But it meant so much to me that so many people were eagerly waiting the next chapter. I hope this chapter meets your expectations and I'll try to get the next one out in a more timely manner.
Ever since she was a little girl, Sarah had liked to dress up. She had always liked how different clothes or different hairstyles could make you feel like a different person. It was probably that aspect of acting that had attracted her as a kid rather than the actual performing, because she really was abysmal at remembering her lines. As a writer she could live so many different kinds of lives without having to leave the comfort of her apartment or her pajamas. However, she still loved dressing up. She had learned over the years that certain clothes could be a kind of armor, making her feel like she was invincible.
After her experience in the Labyrinth, she stopped dressing up in her fairy tale costumes. She had learned being a fairy tale princess wasn't all it was cracked up to be. During the rest of her high school and college years, she went through various phases of trying on different skins after that, mainly variations on punk and goth. Those styles had alienated her step-mother even more than her romantic fairytale phase.
In college, during that whole swing revival thing in the 90s, she had decided she wanted to be one of those sassy take charge women in old movies. That phase lasted with her longer than any of the others, although she still loved her goth and punk music. That period was when she had really started to get into vintage clothes and adding bits and pieces of old Hollywood glamour to her wardrobe. It made her feel powerful in a odd way and that was probably when she had first unintentionally started scaring men. But she had never really considered it a bad thing. If a man didn't like if she spoke her mind and stood up for herself, she didn't need them. She didn't like macho men, but she also didn't like wishy-washy types that let her steamroll over them. In retrospect, she probably had her teenage encounter with Jareth to thank for her taste in men.
After her books had taken off, she had ended up being nominated for a romance writer award. Sarah decided to splurge on a fancy vintage dress to wear to the awards ceremony. She had fallen in love with a green taffeta full-skirted 50s style cocktail dress. It even had a matching velvet opera coat to go with it. She felt like Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face every time she put it on and couldn't help swishing the skirt when she walked. But, sadly it wasn't something that she got to wear very often. Formal events were few and far between in these times. Besides, most of her boyfriends had never really liked it if she went all out with her vintage styles. Most of them felt it was too costume-y.
But if there was one person she knew who would appreciate the exquisite style of the dress, it would be Jareth. So she decided to wear it to his New Year's party.
Thinking there was no use to do things by half measures, so she went to the salon to get her hair and make-up done. She really hadn't spoiled herself with a whole day of beauty in a long time and she reveled in it. She normally wore some sparkly rhinestone jewelry with this dress. However, since the butterfly comb Jareth had given her went perfectly with it, she would wear that with simple emerald earrings.
She was about to start the process of getting dressed, which was quite involved with this outfit, when there was a knock on the door. It was a florist delivering a clear plastic box that contained a spray of gardenias. There was no card, but she had no doubt who sent the corsage. She was puzzled by the very fact that he had sent a corsage more than anything. It was a strange, old-fashioned gesture to send someone a corsage before an event. In fact, she had only seen it done in black and white movies. Gardenias were an equally old fashioned flower. Was this one of the rare instances where Jareth was out of touch with modern times?
And why had he sent them to her before this event? She had joined him for the theatre, the symphony, and all sorts of events at his club and he'd never sent her a corsage before. She would have to google how to wear the thing, because she hadn't worn one since her high school prom and that one had an elastic band that slipped over her wrist. She put the box in the refrigerator to keep the flowers fresh until it was time to put it on.
On her way to her bedroom an idea struck her and she stopped at her bookshelf, pulling out her book on the Victorian language of flowers. Was Jareth really being that old-fashioned? She knew well how much he did enjoy his games after all. According to the book, gardenias meant 'you're lovely' or 'secret love'. She put the book back on her shelf and decided she was thinking too hard about it.
When Sarah entered Belle Epoque that night, it wasn't Karl that met her as usual. It was Jareth himself. She smiled when she saw him chatting with the coat check girl and couldn't help admiring how debonair he looked. He was wearing a classic double breasted tuxedo with a red silk pocket square artfully folded in his breast pocket and a gardenia in his buttonhole. His hair was combed back from his face in a very neatly. He looked like an old movie star lounging there against the counter. They were well matched tonight. She knew she would have to watch herself with him tonight. There was just something about a man in a tuxedo that made him even more attractive than he normally was. Sarah had resisted her innate attraction to Jareth so far and she refused to fall victim to the glamour of a beautifully cut tuxedo.
Jareth straightened and smiled when he noticed her. "Good evening, Sarah," he said pulling her green velvet coat from her shoulders and handing it over to the coat check girl.
His eyes raked over her from the butterfly comb in her upswept hair to the toes of her matching green satin shoes, his warm smile of greeting turning into something of a sensual smirk. "You look magnificent, Sarah. What a wonderful dress."
"Thank you." She couldn't help but blush a bit under his scrutiny and frank admiration. "And thank you for the flowers, but you do know that corsages aren't really done anymore." She hadn't meant to phrase it like that. But there was something almost carnal in the look he was giving her and it made her more than a little nervous about his plans for the night. Was this supposed to be a date?
"Are they not?" he asked seemingly unconcerned as he offered his arm. "A pity."
She sort of agreed.
"Are you hungry? We have a light supper for the staff and select guests before the party actually begins."
"Starved. I was afraid to eat much before I got this dress zipped. I'm not used to these wasp-waisted things." He led her to the buffet where the laid out. "This looks fantastic, Jareth. I'm glad I didn't eat."
She and Jareth filled their plates and went to sit at the bar and eat with a couple of the waitstaff. Sasha was eating himself, so Jareth went behind the bar to retrieve a bottle of champagne and two glasses. After he poured he told her, "Thank you for coming to my party tonight, Sarah. I hope you will enjoy yourself."
She clinked her glass with his. "I'm sure I will. Thank you for inviting me."
Once the party officially began, Sarah and Jareth retreated to their normal table up on the balcony with a bottle of champagne. The entertainment tonight was an electro-swing band and she was really enjoying them. Jareth had a talent for picking out great bands to grace the stage anyway. She found herself tapping her toe and leaning over the railing to watch some of the people of the dance floor below. It made her think about all the swing nights she used to go to in college. She had never been a particularly great dancer, but she had enjoyed herself.
"Sarah."
She was startled by Jareth's voice in her ear. She turned her head, her cheek brushing against his as he leaned over her shoulder. She hadn't realized he was so close. "I'm sorry. Did you say something, Jareth?"
He pulled back slightly, a knowing smile stretched across his face. "I asked if you'd like to dance?" He held his black gloved hand out to her in invitation.
"With you?"
He looked disgruntled for a moment before his expression smoothed out. "I assure you, I'm a very competent on the dance floor. However, if you'd prefer-"
"No," she cut him off. "I didn't mean it like that. I was just surprised. You've never asked me before, other than-" My peach dream, she didn't say. "You've just never asked me before."
"Well, I apologize if I've been remiss in the past and you;ve wanted for a partner. It was thoughtless of me."
She smiled at his courtly little speech. "It's okay."
"So?" he stood, his hand extended.
"I can't."
"Of course you can. You told me-"
"I can dance. Somewhat. I'm just not drunk enough yet." She held up the champagne glass she's been sipping on. "I'm far too self conscious to dance without being a little tipsy first. I think too much and end up tripping over my own feet."
"I can fix that." Jareth waved down a waitress and ordered several shots of bourbon.
Sarah walked back to Jareth where he was leaning against the bar. He handed her another glass of champagne. "There are people snorting coke in the ladies room," she told him.
Jareth merely raised an eyebrow. "Did you want some?"
"No!" she protested in shock.
He laughed darkly, his smile turning into a sneer. "Sarah, are you truly that innocent? You didn't just arrive from the countryside yesterday."
Her face flushed deeply. Jareth had a way of making her feel so gauche sometimes, despite having traveled the world and living in New York City for more than a decade. "I've seen people do it before, just not in my friend's club," she explained. "I don't want you to get in trouble."
He waved her concern away with an elegant gesture of his black gloved hand. "There will be no trouble. There's no need to worry. Let people enjoy themselves as they will."
She didn't even ask how he insured that. She was better off not knowing.
His expression became entirely too devilish as his arm snaked around her waist leaned and he spoke in her ear. "We can adjourn to my office if you'd like to partake. I always keep some on hand if the mood strikes."
"Jesus, Jareth, is there anything you don't do?" She pulled back from him as far as she could with his arm around her and he wasn't letting go.
"Very little, I assure you." He shrugged. "I'm fae. It's in my nature to revel in pleasure of any sort."
"I bet you really enjoyed the 70s, didn't you?"
"I did actually." He grinned even more broadly. "Sadly, humans aren't as resilient as my kind and the revels ended."
She could picture him holding court at Studio 54 with beautiful women and men vying for his attention and participating in all sorts of debauchery. She could imagine him-
Sarah shut down that particular thought quickly, her imagination was running too far as it was. She suddenly felt too warm and he was entirely too close to her. She gulped down her champagne.
"What were you thinking of that brought such a delightful flush on, my dear?" his rich voice was like velvet in her ear.
"I don't know what you mean," she replied doing her best to inject an icy tone into her voice.
He just laughed mockingly at her. "Liar."
She refused to respond to that and just took another sip of her drink.
"Shall I show you what it was like?" he produced a crystal with a deft motion of his wrist and held it before her face.
Her eyes were transfixed for a second on the crystal. It was the first time she'd seen him create one since she had met him again. "Put that away. What if someone saw you do that?" She pushed his arm down, careful not to touch the crystal.
"Aren't you tempted to see what once was?"
"Your past is none of my business."
"A pity. It was such an... interesting moment." He threw the crystal into the air and it dissipated into glitter. "Perhaps I could interest you in the present then?" He pulled her tight against him.
She was always tempted when he tried to corrupt her, but she knew she was one of those unresilient humans. She had more than one friend whose life had been destroyed by addiction. "No. It will probably just make me want to clean. Stimulants always make me feel like being productive." She stepped away from him and this time he released her. She held up her now empty glass. "How about champagne? I find that much more enjoyable."
If it hadn't been New Year's Eve and Sarah permitted herself to get a little more tipsy than normal, she wouldn't have allowed herself to dance so close to Jareth during the slow dances. She wouldn't have enjoyed just breathing him in, his spicy cologne, the heady scent of the gardenia, and the subtle, but sharp tang of magic. She would have ignored his teasing seductive touches and he would have stopped when he saw she was unaffected and uninterested. But as it was she was feeling more than a little uninhibited and she had reveled in what seemed to be a seduction. So she went without question when he suggested going upstairs for a bit to get away from the crowd. After all it wasn't unusual for them to escape the main rooms of the club so he could smoke. She leaned heavily into him, relishing the heat from his body as he guided her up the stairs to the private rooms.
As Jareth shut the door behind them, he continued to hold her close by his side. He pressed his face into the curve of her neck, but he didn't kiss her. His lips just skimmed over her skin until he reached her ear. "I want to taste you, Sarah. Will you let me do that?"
A shudder of arousal went through her at the raw sound of his voice and she forced herself to take a step back. He let her pull away from him. When she met his eyes they smoldered with a passion she'd never seen there before. Both his pupils were so wide his eyes looked almost black. The look of pure desire he fixed her with made her knees weak and she backed up a couple of steps until could sit down in a chair.
His lips curled up in amusement as he followed her. He braced his arms on the back of the chair on either side of her caging her in. He leaned in and nuzzled the side of his face against hers again. "Sarah, won't you please let me taste you? I want to so badly."
She closed her eyes knowing this was such a bad idea, but how he tempted her. How he always tempted her. Would giving in just once for a mere taste make her weak? "Yes," she breathed barely audibly.
She had thought Jareth had meant a kiss and it wasn't like she hadn't imagined kissing him before. She had imagined it all too often, especially in her teenage years. Perhaps it was best to get it out of her system once and for all.
However, she felt him pull away from her face and she opened her eyes to see him gracefully sink to his knees in front of her.
"What are you doing?" she asked in surprise as she watched him take his gloves off. The act of removing one's gloves should not look so sensual.
He didn't answer her immediately. Instead, his hands were slowly gliding up her stockinged legs. Then he looked up at her with a sultry smirk. "I find it very sad that you have to ask."
"That wasn't what I meant," she protested weakly when she realized his intentions.
"But you didn't specify where I could taste you when you agreed. Despite all my powers, I'm not a mind reader you know." He pressed a delicate to her right knee before his hands slipped under her skirt.
She shivered when his bare fingers met the skin above her stockings.
"Besides," he pressed a kiss to the other knee. "Don't tell me this isn't something you haven't thought about before. The Goblin King on his knees before you, pleasuring you."
"No comment," she gasped and tightly clutched the arms of the chair as one of his long fingers grazed the edge of her panties.
Then his hands trailed back down her bare thighs and nylon covered legs until he grasped the hems of her dress and crinoline pushing them teasingly slow up to her waist.
A finger trailed back down one of her exposed garters. "Such a delightful way of securing one's stockings."
"Jareth-"
His eyes caught hers. "Would you like me to stop, my Ice Queen?"
With those words she surrendered completely. The last thing she wanted was for him to stop.
"No," she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "Make me melt, Goblin King."
"Your wish is my command, my queen." She'd rarely seen him look so pleased, before he dipped his head down. In that instant, she realized that he'd magicked away her panties when his hot mouth descended on her without any barrier. It was the last thought she had for a long while. All she could do was feel.
Sarah didn't know how long it took for her to come back to herself, but Jareth was still on his knees before her, his head resting against her thigh and his hands soothingly stroking her calves. She unclenched her hands from the armrests and reached out to stroke his hair. His careful style was already in disarray from his exertions. He nuzzled her thigh and made a sound low in his throat almost like a purr. She felt like she should say something, but she had no idea where to even begin. She clutched at his jacket trying to pull him up to her, but he lithely rose to his feet and disentangled himself from her.
She sat there dumbly with her skirts still rucked up to her waist as he gave her a smoldering look that spoke of pure sex and a self-satisfied smile. He took out his gold cigarette case and lit a cigarette as he continued to take her in as if she was a piece of art.
"What about you?" she finally managed to ask. She could see that he was definitely aroused.
He walked back over to her and tugged her skirts back down into place, before settling on the arm of her chair. He lightly ran a hand up and down the curve of her shoulder and arm and she leaned against him. "That was a gift for you. One dream that I am still capable of granting."
And it was a dream of hers. There was a very similar scene in one of her books involving a couple fleeing a dreary ball. It has also been one of her earliest sexual fantasies once she became aware of oral sex as a teenager.
She leaned back a bit and looked up at him and his eyes still smoldered as they met hers. "You don't strike me as the sort of man that would deny yourself pleasure."
"Ah. But that can be a kind of pleasure in itself. I have lived a very long time, my dear, and I have learned that some pleasures are meant to be savored and that sometimes it is better to give than receive."
She laughed. "Then this must be a dream." But perhaps she should have known Jareth was the sort to play a long game.
"Time to wake up then for it's almost midnight." He stood and snuffed out his cigarette. He put his gloves back on before holding out a hand to her. She grasped it and he pulled her to her still wobbly feet. He drew her arm through his and lead her back downstairs to the club where the party was reaching its fever pitch as the countdown began.
She felt like she was finally coming back to her senses when she noticed that his pocket square was no longer red silk, but green satin and black lace. "Are those my-"
But he silenced her with a scorching kiss that left her clinging to him for support as she couldn't help but devour him back. He pulled back slightly and spoke into her ear, "Happy New Year, Sarah." He pressed one last kiss to the corner of her mouth and handed her a glass of champagne he snagged from a passing waiter.
"Happy New Year, Jareth," she replied and downed the glass of champagne in one go.
Sarah was lounging on the small sofa in the entrance hall of the club with her shoes kicked off and her green velvet coat wrapped tightly around her. She was almost at the point of deciding sleeping there would be the best option, because she was too boneless to move.
"Sarah, are you ready to go home?"
She blinked blearily up at Jareth, who had finally reached the point in the night where he untied his bowtie and unbuttoned his jacket. It was unfair that he looked as good disheveled as he did perfectly groomed.
"Your home?"
"I think that's best, my dear. You've had a little too much fun tonight."
"I have had fun," she agreed with a grin. "You throw a hell of a party, Jareth."
"Thank you. I'm pleased you've had a good time." He hauled her to her feet. She put her arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder. He walked her into the empty coat check so that they would be out of view when they transported.
"I could have danced all night," Sarah sang quietly to herself.
"I think you did, my dear."
"And still have begged for more," she continued before trailing into a hum.
When the disorienting feeling of being transported was gone, Sarah lifted her head from his shoulder and she may have been slightly disappointed that Jareth had transported them directly to his guest room. He kept his arm around her for a few moments to make sure she was steady on her feet before stepping away. He had been carrying her shoes and them down in front of the closet.
"I shouldn't have had that last glass of champagne," she commented.
"Just that last one?" he teased.
"Probably the last ten, honestly."
He laughed at that. "Shall I run you a bath or are you just going to pass out?"
Her irritation flared at his apparent amusement at her state. He had matched her drink for drink. The only difference is that he did not seem excessively effected. "I'm not going to pass out." She took her coat off and flung it angrily over the chair in the corner. The force of the motion made her wobble and she clutched at the back of the chair. "Yet." She amended smiling sweetly. "A bath would be nice. Thank you."
Jareth disappeared into the bathroom with another laugh.
Sarah stood in front of the dresser mirror and unpinned her corsage. It was slightly crushed, but still smelt divine. She reached back to undo her dress, but couldn't seem to grasp the zip. She kept twisting herself in front of the mirror trying to undo the hook and eye and unzip the back of her dress. However, it seemed to be a losing battle.
"Need some help?" Jareth's voice was suddenly in her ear. She looked up and met his eyes. For a moment she was transfixed. His human glamour was gone. His silvery hair was in disarray, his eyes were dark, and he just seemed altogether sharper and more predatory. More carnal.
Her voice seemed to catch and she cleared her throat. "Could you? My arms don't seem bendy enough tonight." She quickly turned around so that her back was to him.
"Of course." She felt the hook release and then the zipper lowered much slower than seemed necessary even for a vintage garment. Then his warm bare fingers trailed seductively down the exposed skin of her back. A wave of arousal welled up in her and she was suddenly very aware that she wasn't wearing any panties. But that desire was quickly tempered by nervousness as all the implications of falling into bed with Jareth ran through her mind. Her drunken languidness fled and she tensed up.
Jareth chuckled and pressed a hot openmouthed kiss to the sensitive skin behind her ear. "Don't worry, Sarah." He nipped her earlobe with his sharp teeth. "I'm not going to fuck you tonight."
Her nervousness was overcome by outrage. She held her loose bodice to her chest as she spun around to face him. "Why the hell not?"
He threw back his head and laughed. "Because you are very, very drunk, my dear." He gently cupped her face in his hands and placed a chaste kiss to her forehead. "Pleasant dreams." He released her and exited the room.
