Over the next three days, Sarah didn't see Jareth any more often than she'd seen him the two days after she got home from visiting her parents. She'd suspected that would be the case after he'd broken everything that happened the two days before. Even on nights he didn't stay in her bed, she knew he'd popped in briefly, because when she woke, she always found fresh coffee in the pot, and when she'd stumble into the kitchen, there would be breakfast on the table, waiting for her.

She didn't know if he was crawling into her bed for a few hours of sleep each night, but she did hope he was getting adequate rest. She doubted he was. She was getting a sneaking suspicion that he was just as bad about overworking himself as she was. And still, he would try to make sure she was cared for during whatever down time he had.

When she woke the morning of the thirty first, it was to the sight of him dozing beside her in bed. She'd considered the night before getting up and going to the library, but the warmth beside her made it clear that wasn't going to happen before she even shifted and saw him.

As she shifted, his arm tightened over her waist and he opened his eyes, looking into hers.

"Good morning," she said, keeping her voice low and slipping her arm over his waist. "I didn't hear you arrive."

"You were sleeping so soundly, I didn't want to wake you," he said, his own voice still a bit rough with sleep. She smiled and lowered her eyes, snuggling against him. In answer, his arms tightened around her midsection, holding her close.

"Busy week?"

"This time of year always is," he laughed.

She hesitated for a moment, then snuggled under his chin. He tensed for a moment, then a sigh left him like she'd wrung it out of him and his arms at her waist drew her tighter against him.

"Another ball, tonight?"

"Biggest of the year, if I'm honest. The fae love new beginnings, and this is the biggest in awhile. New century, new millenia. If you thought the start of Yule was a big deal, this will come as a surprise." He went quiet for a moment. "Most of the faces will be familiar. It's being hosted in Gwales, again."

"Goody," she said, making sure her voice had that dry, sarcastic edge to it.

He chuckled, and shifted so he could look at her face. "Given a choice, I'd rather stay right here with you, all day. But it's rude to not show up when you've already accepted the invitation."

Blood rushed to her cheeks and she would have buried her face against his chest to hide it, but his hand slid to her jaw, holding her still. He shifted, rolling her he was looking down at her, that damn smirk hovering above her and she thought he was going to kiss her.

She relaxed into the caress of his hand, her lips parted, and her eyes closed, breath sighing out of her.

"You're looking very alluring, right now, darling," he said, and there was a bit of a growl in his voice that made her libido surge. "But as much as I'd like to take what you're offering, if we're ever going to get out of this bed, I can't."

She flushed and opened her eyes, taking a steadying breath.

He was grinning, but there was genuine regret in the look on his face, as if he really hadn't wanted to say that. A sigh huffed out of her and she tugged him back down so she could continue snuggling him, at least. She almost said it wasn't fair, but she bit the words back, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of him. That helped calm her racing heart.

"Do I even want to know how late in the day it is?"

"Probably not," he admitted, and she felt him move. Then he sat, and she found herself curled up against his chest, his arms still holding her close. "We'll need to go soon, if we're going to make it to this damn party."

A sigh escaped her and she lifted her head, looking at the clock. "Ew."

"Indeed," he chuckled against her hair.

She felt his fingers working along her scalp, down to the nape of her neck and her head fell against his chest again and she decided to ignore it for a moment. "Well, your majesty. I never thought I'd say this to anyone before, but I don't like that I haven't gotten to see you much this week. So, we go when you're ready and not a second sooner."

There was a deep rumble in his chest, and he kept working muscles that were sore from leaning over books too long. "We've already crossed the veil, darling. Around when your head landed back on my chest. I moved us to your dressing room, and so we're safe from prying eyes for the moment."

"Pity," she sighed in disappointment, and she lifted her head to look at him, seeing the black marble walls behind him.

"Isn't it?" He gave her a smile, and his fingers dusted over her jaw moments before his lips found hers. It was a soft kiss, and lasted less than a breath. "Pan will be along to assist you shortly. I think it's best if I don't, because we'll be very late if I even try to."

He rolled off the couch they'd transported in on, and his eyes raked over her. When they met hers, she saw everything she would ever need to know about what he'd rather be doing. She stared up at him, letting him see that they were of like minds on the matter. His eyes widened a bit, and then he turned and left the room.

She stared after him, her breath hitching in her chest as she half-lay where he left her. A quick glance down found her t-shirt rucked up to her hips, pale blue butterfly lace had been the only thing that had hidden her from his gaze. A groan left her and she arranged her shirt so it hung down to her thighs again and tried to fan away the intense blush that had suffused her cheeks from how he'd looked at her.

There was a faint cracking sound which drew her attention and she blinked, turning. The same goblin who had helped her before was looking up at her with a toothy smile.

"Pan", Jareth had called it, she remembered and she crouched to smile at it.

"You're here to help me, again, today?" She asked, remembering the goblin's skills clearly. She hadn't even recognized herself when she'd first looked in the mirror.

It nodded, eyes shining. "Lady should get dressed."

It's voice was rough, scratchy and deep, but there was a feminine quality to it. Sarah gave the goblin a wide smile and nodded, hopping to her feet, and looking around for the gown.

When she found it, she was again reminded that Jareth had an excellent eye and impeccable taste for things like this. She pulled the deep blue gown from the dressform with a gasp of delight, holding it to her chest and looking in the mirror. Lace accented the bodice and capped her shoulders, giving the illusion of support. Sparkling crystals were sewn to the bodice and skirts, shining like stars on the dark blue silk. The skirts were full, and there was a short train in the back of the dress as well.

"Oh my goblins," she managed, taking a moment to admire the gown before setting it over the back of the couch and changing out of her t-shirt. Once she'd changed into the gown, the Goblin started lacing the back up. She looked at her reflection and bit her lower lip, fingers brushing over the full, soft skirts.

The Goblin King had out done himself, again, she thought. A soft smile curved her lips.

The gown suited and flattered her perfectly. The bodice pushed her already generous cleavage to greater advantage, and hugged her, giving her curves an hourglass shape.

On the vanity, she found the jewelry box she'd received at Christmas, and opened it, finding the beautiful chandelier earrings he'd given her for Christmas. Inside was also a stunning sapphire and diamond necklace that would catch anyone's eyes. She was almost glad he'd gone with the earrings for Christmas. Her mother might have fainted if she'd seen the rest of the jewels.

A blush warmed her cheeks, and she remembered what he'd said about enjoying spoiling her. Setting her hand on her chest, trying to calm her racing pulse, she made a decision. She'd enjoy herself, tonight. Whatever ended up happening with him, long term, she would do her best to live in each moment with him, for now.

The thought was terrifying and exciting. It wasn't a decision she'd made before. No other man had ever made her want to make such a decision.

The goblin worked tirelessly on her hair and make-up. It wove her hair up into a twist, and as Sarah watched, twisted little coils of hair so that it curled softly, and when the goblin released it, the curls held. It pinned a comb into her hair, that fanned out through the curls, and looked like constellations, like stars had come to rest in her dark hair. Her eyes ended up with a deep blue shadow that smoked out to black on the edges, with a shimmer at the corner. From the dark corner, it started toppling dark glitter, and as it worked up her forehead and down her cheeks, the glitter brightened until it was just luminous sparkles on her face. She was given a sharp contour beneath her cheekbone, giving her the same not-quite-human look Jareth's face had. Her lips were painted a shimmery shade of pink. The goblin darkened and lengthened her lashes, again, and filled her brows to perfection.

The final look was magical and took her breath away as usual. She swallowed hard and turned, taking the goblin's hands, smiling at it.

"Thank you."

It's face broke into a smile as if she'd just given it a king's ransom. Then, with a sharp crack, it vanished as suddenly as it had arrived.

She took a steadying breath, setting the earrings into her ears, and the necklace at her throat. She found comfortable silk slippers that she suspected she could dance in all night. Laid out with care, she found dark blue tulle opera gloves, which she slipped on her arms and looked at herself in the mirror.

Ever since Jareth had come back into her life, he'd been making her feel like a queen, she noted.

It made her wonder for a moment, how he'd treat his queen, and she felt a surge of jealousy that she didn't want to admit to. Just thinking about him treating another woman how he'd been treating her made her heart ache and gave her uncomfortable feelings. She didn't like it. She didn't like thinking about it.

Taking a shaking breath, she headed out of her dressing room, and upon finding his empty, she headed towards the hallway. She found her escort standing there, cornered by Queen Georgine and Prince Titian. His back was against the wall and his expression was one that she'd not seen often since they'd started their arrangement. She remembered her purpose here, and didn't need to feign the jealousy she felt at seeing someone hanging on the arm of her boyfriend. She closed the door behind her, and turned towards them.

When she gave Jareth her full attention, she felt like she'd been the one punched in the guts.

Familiar. Grey watered silk cravat, blue frock coat with diamante at the wrists and cuffs. Black trousers and boots. White silk gloves. A splash of glitter and dark blue streaks in his wild hair.

The peach dream.

Seeing Georgine hanging on him, while he wore that outfit almost sent her into a rage. So she lowered her head, looking down for a moment, then lifted her eyes to Jareth again. She still felt that gut punch, seeing him like that, but she could control her reaction, now. As her gaze lifted, Jareth's eyes found her.

A surge of pleasure escaped her when his eyes fixed on her. That gut punch expression on his face, and he straightened against the wall, all of his focus now on her. He moved away from Georgine, towards her, not seeming to hear or see the other fae standing nearby. She gave him a modest curtsy, lowering her eyes as he moved towards her. When he was in front of her, she lifted her eyes to his, and he took her hand, giving her a slow turn.

"I really must give that goblin a raise," he said, mostly to himself. "You're a vision, darling."

A stunned expression on Georgine's face, an appraising one on Titian's when she glanced back at them. Then, as Sarah watched, Georgine's expression fell, and she looked away. Her arm looped through her consort's and she pulled him down the hallway away from them. It was the face of a woman who had admitted defeat, Sarah realized, and she didn't like the feeling of pity that came over her any more than she'd liked the jealousy that had strangled her when she'd seen her holding his arm.

Jareth seemed oblivious to the other's exit. He was just drinking her in, or getting drunk off of her, she couldn't tell which. She stepped towards him, setting her other hand in his and gave them a squeeze.

"Jareth," she said, keeping her voice quiet. "Can we afford to get lost in each other, here?"

He startled at her words, closed his eyes and shook his head as if to clear it. His eyes focused on hers, and she saw hunger in his.

"No, you're right." He said, and his voice was a low growl that did wonderful things to her body and shorted vital parts of her brain out. "Come along, precious. We should be fashionably late, now."

He offered his arm, and she slipped hers through, standing close to him. As they moved through the halls, Sarah told him the reaction Georgine had when he'd seen her. He exhaled through his nose, a frown pulling on his lips.

"I hope this hasn't caused diplomatic problems for me," he said, his voice quiet. "Insulting a queen, even as a king, could cause political havoc."

"She didn't look insulted. She looked…"

Pained, resigned. Like she'd conceded defeat to a mortal.

"If anyone has cause for insult, I suspect it's Titian. I didn't see his reaction," Sarah admitted. "The Queen just looked like she'd resigned herself."

They entered the ballroom, and a hush went over the room. Sarah felt eyes on them, and she kept her eyes on her date, not looking away from him. She didn't fancy being spellbound, and remembered too well what Jareth had said the previous time. Then, again, keeping her eyes on him wasn't difficult.

"Pity they distracted me, I was most curious what your reaction to my outfit this evening would be."

He stopped with her in the middle of the dancefloor and she lifted her gaze towards him, and her lips curved into a smile as he drew her close.

"My reaction was that you're a dirty cheat, your majesty," she said, seeing the pleased flash in his eyes.

"Oh?"

"That's the same suit you wore in my peach dream."

"Is it?" There was a laugh in his voice, but he played naive. "I wasn't aware."

"Liar."

He grinned at her, and she grinned back. As the music started, he swept her into the dance and she found she didn't have any trouble at all, keeping her eyes on him. No more than she had all those years ago.

She'd lost count of how many turns they'd made on the floor before Jareth insisted that she take a break that, honestly she hadn't wanted to take. But she let him bully her, guiding her over to the tables, getting her to sit down and eat and have some fruit drink that tasted of rum. He kept himself between her and the swirling dancers, and they talked and flirted.

She wondered if she was feeling brave enough for all the promises he was giving her with his eyes alone.

The break lasted for almost an hour before Titian walked up with Georgine at his side.

"In the spirit of the holiday, could I have your partner for a dance, Jareth?"

Jareth looked towards her, and she swallowed hard, feeling her stubbornness creep in. She didn't want to dance with Titian, but she also didn't want to look like she was weak, either. She was getting something strange from the other man, and she didn't like it at all.

"That would be up to Lady Sarah, not me," Jareth said, looking back at them, his gaze devoid of any sort of emotion either way. She could feel the tension in his arm, though, and knew he didn't want to let her dance with them, either.

She gave his arm a squeeze, and leaned close to him. "I'll be alright, Jareth."

Jareth got to his feet and offered her his hand so she could rise as well. He leaned towards her, as well, and his fingers lifted to one of her earrings. "If he tries anything, you don't even need to say my name. Just think it as hard as you can."

She blinked in confusion, and watched as he stepped back, his fingers caressing that earring and teasing over her neck as he did. He turned towards Georgine, and offered his hand. The gesture was courteous, and he didn't look at Georgine how he'd looked at her, so she was able to control the envy she felt. When Titian extended his hand to her, she fixed her gaze to a spot on his jacket, and didn't look him in the eyes at all.

On the dance floor, Titian attempted on several occasions to coax her closer to him, but she maintained her distance, not allowing him to do so. They turned on the floor, and she could feel the creature getting increasingly agitated. They passed by a pillar, and his arm grabbed hers, and he drug her from the sea of swirling dancers, and pulled her behind it, pinning her hard against the column. His hand grabbed her face hard, forcing it up to his, and he pushed his body close to hers, a snarl in his voice.

This snarl caused only fear, and she bit the inside of her lip, refusing to look at him.

"You think that eye contact is the only way to spellbind someone, your foolish little mortal? You insult my queen, and think that you can escape punishment?"

Lips pressed against hers, bruisingly hard. She struggled against him, and smelled something that reminded her of rotting fruits, just a little too sweet to be pleasant. Magic. He was trying to spellbind her.

Jareth!

When he drew back, her mind felt hollow. Like she'd forgotten something. She looked around, frantic, trying to remember what she'd forgotten.

The creature before her gave a laugh that seemed to creep from her nightmares, and she tried to move away from him, but he held her there, and moved to try to kiss her again.

"10!"

No. She didn't want this. She wanted -

"9!"

Her body wasn't listening to her. She couldn't move away.

"8!"

Something ripped the creature away from her and she started sinking to the floor, feeling anxiety crawling over her, making her itchy and afraid. What was she forgetting? Who was she forgetting?

"7!"

"Sarah? Precious?"

She lifted her gaze, finding brilliant blue in front of her.

"6!"

Arms went around her, and she was being picked up off the floor. She could hear harsh whispers near her.

"5!"

"Jareth, he bespelled her, get her out of here, now!" That was a woman's voice, the last time she'd heard it, it had been petulant and annoyed.

"4!"

Jareth. She'd called that name.

"3!"

Beautiful brilliant blue eyes searched hers and she looked into them, smelling ozone swelling around her.

"2!"

Jareth, her lover, she realized, and tears started to pierce her eyes.

"1!"

Lips caught hers and she held onto the man holding her together as tight as she could.

Silence. Blissful silence.

She felt her chest hitch, as the kiss relaxed, and she was lowered to the ground.

The first thing she noticed was they were in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. Jareth had his arms around her waist, still holding her upright. The throne room was empty, save for them. Feathers littered the floor, and outside the window, she saw explosions of light start to go up.

She jumped, her nerves shot. A hand trailed slowly over her waist, as if to soothe her. Fear and panic, and a confusing tangle of emotions ripped her apart and she felt like she was going to shake apart.

"Sarah?"

Her skin felt like she had ants crawling on it, wherever her clothing was touching. Even the hair on her face was too much. Never mind the weight of the arm holding her upright. She curled her hands into the sleeves, the scratch of the tulle too much, even.

"Sarah?!"

"Something's wrong. Something -"

She pressed her face against his neck, trying to use the spicy scent of him, and the scent of ozone around them, to ground here. She didn't want to think about whatever else was going on.

"What happened?"

The dance with Titian. Him getting angry because she wouldn't look him in the eye. Him pulling her from the other dancers, and forcing that kiss on her. The smell of rotting fruit.

Her mentally screaming for Jareth, and then everything seeming to fall apart in her mind.

"He tried to spellbind me. But this isn't like when you…" She shook her head, trying to clear it, but the action caused more pain. "This isn't like the peach dream. Jareth, what's happening?"

He swore, and she felt him scoop her up. She couldn't stand the feeling of anything touching her, even him, right then. But she didn't want him to release her, either. She was scared, and though the physical sensations were agony, emotionally, she needed him.

"Titian put a charm on you."

She was glad Jareth knew what the fuck was going on, because right then, everything felt like scratches and pops on a record. Jarring and uncomfortable. She clung to him, not knowing what else to do. If it was magic, did that mean Jareth could fix it?

She tucked her face against him, trying to find the words to explain everything she was feeling, right then. The feeling of things on her skin was growing unbearable. The sensitivity was too much. She squirmed in his arms, shaking biting back whimpers of discomfort.

"What's wrong with me?"

"Just breathe, darling. I'll take care of you."

The king was muttering under his breath, words she couldn't understand, and then, they reached a large set of double doors, they opened like they'd been kicked. The doors hit the walls as they walked through, and slammed shut behind them. The sounds did nothing to help her nerves, but she suspected that Jareth's temper was on edge.

"It hurts, Jareth," she whimpered, clinging to him.

The world was spinning by the time he set her down on a feather soft bed. She arched away from it, even that too much. Shaking her head, she struggled, trying to leave the bed.

No, no. It hurts.

Jareth's face appeared in her vision, and she stared up at him, the scratching sensation that covered her easing as the scent of ozone around them swelled. It felt like nothing at all was touching her. She saw his fingers brush over her lips, but she couldn't feel the comfort of the touch.

"I know, darling," he said, and she saw his jaw tighten.

He took her hand, and she watched him pull the glove from her, but she couldn't feel the scrape of it against her skin. Relief made her almost cry and her head fell back to the bed. A different sort of itch was starting to bother her, this one sexual, causing heat to build inside of her. She reached to touch herself, and Jareth's hand caught hers and pinned her wrist to the bed. He then pulled off her other glove, and didn't hesitate to pin that hand above her head with the other.

Looking up, she found his hands weren't holding her own down. In fact, she couldn't see anything pinning her.

She felt him lift her, but there was no physical touch to her skin, just a faint pressure easing her back off the mattress. She realized he was trying to remove her dress, and she lifted, so he could unlace the back, and then he drew it down her. Whatever barrier he'd placed between her skin and fabric, she didn't even feel the whisper of silk on her skin. She still almost sobbed in relief when the clothing was off of her.

He worked fast, as if he was working with a limited timetable, but he managed to get her undressed. There was worry more than anything else in his eyes, and she remembered his comment at Christmas, about how others were hurt when she was harmed. Tears wound down her face, and it felt like they burned a trail over her face. She gave a hysterical laugh, twisting against the magic holding her pinned.

"Jareth," she half-sobbed, and he shifted over her, his face drifting in front of hers.

"Until the worst of this wears off, this is all I can do. If I leave you to your own devices, you'll just hurt yourself worse." His fingers brushed her cheeks, wiping the tears away. She whimpered, leaning into the touch, needing that comfort more than she could express.

"What's happening to me," she whimpered. She realized, now, that her legs were pinned the same as her arms, holding her gently in place so she couldn't move.

"A lust charm, combined with the spellbinding." His voice was cold and unforgiving. "But Titian doesn't have the experience with humans that I have. Whatever he used isn't intended for a mortal, and I don't know what he did use. He was probably trying to wrap it around you the whole time he was dancing with you."

"He was angry I wouldn't look him in the eyes."

Jareth closed his eyes, and she thought there was pain on his face. "Clever. But it made this harder on you. I'm sorry, precious."

She shook her head. "Not your fault."

"It was my responsibility to protect you, you trusted me to keep you safe from my kind's capricious nature."

She shook her head again, still tangled up with everything that had happened. "He was mad at me, not you."

An angry scream rang out around them, from an unfamiliar voice. "I wish the goblins would take you away, right now!"

Nausea gripped her and she stared at Jareth, seeing his clothing shift from the romantic frock coat to the dark armor of the Goblin King. "Please don't leave me," she whispered, trembling.

He looked at her, his expression sick. He closed his eyes hard, pain twisting it. "I have to, darling. I'll return as soon as I'm able."

A sheet drifted down over her, something to keep her warm, but she felt too hot as it was. She saw Jareth snap his fingers, and then he was gone. In the same moment, a cracking sound caught her attention and she saw Pan there, with a shallow basin and a soft cloth in hand.

The goblin started tending her, cleaning the colors off her skin, pulling the pins from her hair until the wild curls it had fashioned fanned out around her. She wasn't certain how the goblin managed to clean her face without causing agony, but she couldn't feel the faintest touch.

She wasn't certain how long she lay there, crying, as the goblin worked. She was so tangled up with the pain and the sexual heat that she didn't hear when it left. She stared out the window as the lighting outside changed, brightening towards dawn. It was the closest she had to an idea of the change of time while Jareth was gone.

Eventually, she became aware of the gentle caress of fingers on her cheek. It was a relief that she couldn't put words to, that feeling. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to turn her head, finding Jareth sitting on the bed beside her. Her throat hurt, and her body ached in ways she didn't know that she could. The physical agony had died down to discomfort, but the throbbing between her legs still kept her awake.

"How long…?"

"Not long," he answered. "The wisher wasn't interested in being tied to a child, so I took it, and they took their petty little dreams. I was back before Pan had finished with your makeup."

She could see his own upset, pain and anger that wasn't aimed at her. That look caused emotions to choke her, and she closed her eyes, biting her lower lip. She couldn't even feel her teeth, though she could feel the pull of them. She didn't want to look too hard at the relief of him being there when she came to. She took a shaking breath, feeling that her body was still quivering.

"I apologize."

She shook her head, looking towards him. "Don't, Jareth. You didn't do this to me."

His touch moved to her hair, and she could feel him combing his fingers through the curls. "He gave you the equivalent of a sexual stimulant that would be fine for my kind. Combining that with the spellbinding he tried I think your physiology took that spell and ramped every nerve ending into overdrive. I could break the spellbinding, because he was still trying to catch you in it when I found you. Without knowing exactly what charm he used, all I can do is take care of you to get you through it."

She was more aware, now, and felt less like a basket case, so she hoped she was coming out of this, just fine. "Skin doesn't feel like it's trying to crawl off of my body anymore, so that's something, I guess."

"When I realized what he must have done, I put a barrier around you so nothing could touch you."

She shrugged, heaving a breath. "I didn't cry when Pan was cleaning off the makeup, and your touch didn't set me off, so." She looked up at him, and he gave her a smile.

Her eyes drifted around the room she was in. Heavy, dark furniture, massive bed. She could see a balcony from the window. His spicy scent surrounded her and she heaved a sigh, closing her eyes. His room, she decided, and she tried to shift, but the magic binding her hands to the bed was still holding her.

When she turned her gaze to him, she saw his frock coat gaping open, the cravat he'd worn untied, hanging loose around his neck. His boots were off, and so were his gloves.

"I'm glad I warned you, before you went to dance with him. I think everyone at that party heard you, regardless of if you used your voice. A few of them may be nursing psychic migraines for the next few days. Titian included."

"I knew he was trying something. It smelled like rotting fruit. Just a little too sweet to be pleasant?" She looked towards him. "That's when I panicked. By the time the countdown started, I...couldn't remember. Anything."

A shudder worked through her, tears falling down her face, again. That fast. His magic had taken her that damn fast, and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

He was silent, his expression very dark for a moment, but his touch was tender and gentle.

"Your magic smells different than his," she said, taking a steadying breath. She was safe. He'd saved her. "Clean and metallic. Like air before a lightning strike? I smelled that, and things started coming back."

"Small blessings," he said, his words quiet. "I'm glad I reached you in time. How do you feel, now?"

She was trying hard to not think about that. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling a flush on her face as she considered her current condition.

"Twitchy and paranoid. Scared. But so hot and needy it's making me crazy."

Fingers trailed over her ear, the brush of them soft. She felt him removing her earring, and she watched as he set one, and then the other aside.

"I didn't think he'd be so foolish to use a spell like this on a guest. Georgine told me that he'd been insulted on her behalf, but neither of us realized that he would step over a line like this. When you're safely home, I intend to have words with him regarding his mistreatment of you."

She remembered a flash, of a woman telling Jareth to get her out of there. She looked up at him in surprise.

"She told you he bespelled me. Told you to get me away."

"Whatever he was twisting around you would have taken you at midnight. If that had happened, I admit, I would be infinitely more furious than I already am. She also knows that as the Queen, it will reflect badly upon her that a guest was harmed while under her care. Final punishment will fall to her."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," she murmured, taking an unsteady breath. "I was having a great time before that bastard did that."

He gave her a smile, then reached under her neck. She felt him unclasp the necklace, and the drag of it as it pulled away. "You are not the one who needs to apologize, darling. Trust that this will never happen again - I'll make certain of that."

She saw the swirl of darkness in his eyes, and wanted to reach out, to touch him, but her hands were still trapped against the bed. "Are you going to let me up?"

He set the necklace beside the earrings with care, not looking at her.

"No."

She blinked, surprised by that answer, but when he looked towards her, there was something in his eyes besides that darkness and it caused the molten feeling between her legs to get hotter. "What?"

"I told you that I'd take care of you, and I intend to."

As she watched, he peeled off the lovely frock coat. Then, his fingers opened the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt, then the ones down the front. Her heart skipped several beats as he slipped his shirt off, next, and her eyes drank in the sight of him.

He was still dressed from the waist down, and she felt a twinge of relief at that. She wasn't certain that her heart could take seeing Jareth in his full, unclothed glory, right then. She might just faint away dead from a heart attack.

When he leaned over her, she recognized the look in his eyes from when he'd held her pinned to her bed in her parent's house. Her throat closed and she stared up at him through wide eyes. He didn't move, just meeting her gaze, waiting. Waiting for her to either fight him or submit to whatever he intended to do. She could feel the heat of him above her, and her eyes raked over him.

Her breath stuttered out of her as she met his gaze again, seeing patience and understanding in them. Like he understood that right now she was mentally a mess. She swallowed hard, closing her eyes to block the view of him out and thought for a long moment.

"Please, take care of me," she whispered, lifting her face to him.

He captured her lips with his own and she felt him. That kiss made her feel like she'd caught fire, like he'd burned through her. The only parts of them that touched were their lips, right then, his sliding smooth and hot against hers, his tongue slipping between them and sliding against her own. She could feel his hunger, the passion and desire that he felt, and a blissful sigh escaped her.

When his skin came to rest against her own, she realized the barrier he'd set around her was gone. The feeling of him was just on the edge of being too much for her to handle, still and she gasped against his lips, not sure if she wanted to pull away from him or push closer.

His kiss stopped, and he lifted his face, meeting her gaze, as if measuring something.

"Jareth, please," she whispered, needing that kiss again, to distract her from the over sensitive feeling of her skin.

"Yes," he promised. His lips brushed hers, again, and then they slid over her chin and along her jaw. From there, they brushed along her neck, parting and she felt the sharp graze of his teeth on her skin. She arched against him, the pain there welcome, and she closed her eyes, a tremor racing down her spine.

He spent a long moment there, his lips and teeth pulling and scraping on her skin, as he pulled a love bite on her skin, before he moved further, leaving more marks on her skin. He wasn't pushing her hard, almost as if his concern for her was forcing him to hold himself back.

Taking care of her, he'd called it. Like he was providing her with aftercare, taking care of her after she'd fallen ill. It was still getting her hot enough that she was ready to strangle him.

She watched, powerless as he swept kisses down her, brushing over the peaks of her breasts before his hand cradled it, and his lips wrapped over her, tugging her flesh with skill that had her arching against his mouth. Her fingers curled into the sheets and she squirmed, the heat fogging her brain. She felt him pull away for a moment, before the other breast received the same treatment, ending when he kissed a path to the center of her chest, his lips lingering over her pounding heart.

She forced her eyes open, staring down at him. She ached to touch him, but he'd made plain that he wouldn't let her until he'd taken care of her.

His lips ghosted down over her stomach, next, parting and leaving wet kisses on her skin as he sunk further down her body until he was between her thighs. His eyes met hers as he looked up the length of her body, and she saw hunger and that dark something swimming in his eyes. She stared at him through wide eyes, trying to breathe, not wanting to pull her eyes from his.

"Please," she begged, again, feeling his breath rush against her soaked folds, and she watched as his nose flared, as if he was breathing in the scent of her. A flush burned on her face, and she watched as his lips parted. When his tongue ran against her, she gave a weak, desperate groan, trying to lift her hips towards him. His hands curled under her hips, holding her still, even as she bucked against his mouth.

Each stroke of his tongue sank deeper into her, and he gave a sound that stirred her in ways she didn't think she could.

Hunger and fear in that deep growl, like he'd been given a tasty treat that he shouldn't be allowed. His mouth fit against her and she felt like he was trying to kiss her like he'd kissed her mouth, before, his tongue pressing deep, piercing her. She felt her body growing tighter, like she was on the edge of release, but each stroke of his tongue just pushed her higher still.

Every stroke of his tongue ended at the tip of her clit, and she half-sobbed her desperation to him, whimpering from the pleasure that seemed to just keep rising, but not give her the relief she sought.

When she finally came, it was hard and she felt her body go rigid from the pleasure. She probably screamed, but she was so focused, she wasn't certain. When her body stopped twitching, she noticed the tension building inside of her again almost immediately, though Jareth had ceased devouring her. Fear twisted through her and she fought the restraints.

"Jareth," she half-sobbed, scared and hating that her body was being like this. This hunger just consumed her, not giving her the relief she'd sought, just making her feel like she needed more.

What the fuck would have happened to her, if Jareth hadn't gotten her out of there, so quickly?

"Shh, darling. I've got you." The words were a promise, and the only ones he said before he went right back to trying to bring her through this.

She felt the fullness of his fingers slip inside of her, spreading her, as his tongue continued to taste her. She fell back against the bed under the onslaught of sensations, but didn't dare ask him to stop.

By the time her body didn't fill with tension after coming, she'd lost count of how many times she had. The ants under the skin feeling had died down, anxiety and fear dying as the first real relief of the evening settled over her, making her body relax. She lay there, after, gasping and weak. Her face was wet from tears, throat raw from crying out after each release. Her legs quivered as Jareth shifted from between them.

He reached up, and she felt the magic holding her wrists release, and then her ankles were freed a moment later. She quaked, unable to move or speak, just laying there and staring at the canopy over his bed, her mind an utter mess. She felt exhausted, she noted, and she bit her lower lip hard.

She felt Jareth touch her arms, and he guided them back to her sides.

"Jareth," she managed to whisper, as he settled beside her. One of his hands found the muscles around her shoulders, and a pained moan left her as he started working the soreness from them.

"Yes, precious?"

She shivered, feeling a chill settling over her. "Can I stay here, tonight?"

There was a pause in the caress of his hands, and his face drifted into her vision. She could see the pleasure in his eyes as he looked at her. Something about her request had pleased him. She swallowed hard, and waited for him to answer her. He resumed working on the sore muscles of her shoulders.

"I wouldn't send you home until I was certain you were well, darling."

She nodded, closing her eyes, and drifting on the pleasure he'd given her, and the feel of his hands caressing her. "Thank you."

He gave a quiet chuckle, shifting her onto her stomach, and his arms started working the sore muscles of her back and hips. "Do you want your t-shirt?"

She considered it for a long moment, then shook her head. She wasn't certain what the point of that was, anymore. Jareth had seen and touched literally everything, at this point.

His fingers found a particularly sore place on her shoulders and she moaned, then she shifted so she could look at him, feeling nerves for a different reason. "Are you sure you want me?"

Aren't I too much trouble? Getting caught up by something like this, when she was supposed to shield him, and he ended up saving her, instead.

She searched his eyes, and he stroked her cheek with a gentle hand. "I said I did."

Those words soothed the confused tangle of feelings in her chest, and after a moment, she nodded her head, looking up at him. "Happy new years, Jareth."

His lips curved into a smile, and his fingers brushed over her cheek again, almost unspeakably gentle. Then, he leaned down and gave her a very soft kiss on her lips. "Happy new years, Sarah."