He was upon her as quickly as the world around them melted away, pinning her back against a wall, and both of her arms above her head as he delivered a hard, impassioned kiss. Three – always a number of power, he had said, and a milestone their kisses had long since met. Perhaps she had no power of her own left – no real choice in resisting yet another, moaning openly against those gorgeously soft lips.

He possessed her mouth in a way that put even their past kisses to shame, grazing her lower lip with his tongue, before tugging it between his teeth, and starting to suck. When such exquisite attention made her gasp, he took it as invitation to press his tongue into her open mouth, then, stroking and caressing hers with an intimacy that set her heartbeat throbbing all the way down to her core.

He kissed her until he had her wet, and wild, and willing, pulling against the shackles of his hands and arching her body forward to press her hips into his. There, she felt the outline of his cock, hard and heavy against her thigh, and she groaned deeply, writhing her hips to increase that contact. Before she could have what she wanted, he released her just as quickly as he had captured her, leaving her body to slump against the wall at her back. Dimly, she was glad of the support, as her feet alone could not have hoped to hold her upright – not after that kiss.

Tearing her eyes from him, she took in their new surroundings. They were in a bedchamber, she saw – rich stone and marble, the orange kiss of firelight giving only a hint at the grand room's darkest corners. A huge four-poster bed dominated the room's centre, well-lit by the fire, and the focus of attention - draped in silks, furs, and leathers, and luxurious pillows of all sizes. Every bit of it spoke of him – seasoned to luxury, comfortably elegant and yet deeply masculine. He barely gave her time to blush at its implications.

Taking both of her hands in his, Jareth drew her away from the wall. For the second time that day, he held her at arms length, his eyes dark and appraising. Sarah felt another hot surge of lust, staring too long into those eyes, and she prayed he would decide what to do with her soon. This was his choice, after all – his reward in their game that could not be used as ammunition against her. She had agreed only to feed his lusts – not her own. Her head told her of the danger – of how close she was daring to tiptoe to the fire – but her body … her body could only only embrace its heat.

His gaze was thick and charged as he beheld her, and it felt an eternity before he moved again. A small smile curled that perfect, pouting mouth, and she knew then that he had made his choice. His long fingers traced a line in the air above them, and in their wake, they formed a thin golden rope. It remained pulled taut, though it was strung from nothing, hanging in the empty space above their heads.

"Hold this," he said, gesturing towards the rope. At her immediate look of distrust, he shook his head and clucked his tongue. "Tsk. Sarah, if I truly wished to confine you, your wrists would be bound with hardly a blink – earning me only your fear and loathing, and, of course, breaking my promise not to detain you. This is merely a request of mine. Your arms will be out of my way for the time being, and you will be free to let go at any time, if you so wish. Humour me. Indulge me."

She had already agreed to indulge him with free rein, after all, and allowing herself to trust him now did not seem like such a significant step – not with how deeply she had already damned herself. Besides, there was still that promise of heat, racing so strongly through each vein and every delicate nerve ending, that, in the end, she had to obey. Reaching up, she remembered the way she had felt in her bedroom, a lifetime ago. How, in her thin gown, she seemed to be offering herself to the raging storm. Given the electricity that now crackled in his eyes, she was only too aware of how she offered herself now. The lift of her arms above her head caused her breasts to rise and present themselves to him, as he stood, only a footstep or two away. Close enough to take what she offered.

She let her fingers curl around the rope, the tension in them fading when the contact brought no shock of electricity, or wild, enchanted lust. Sure enough, she remained free to move, lifting every finger in turn to be sure. Only the actual form of the rope seemed magical – suspended in the empty space, pulled rigid enough to let her full weight hang from it, if either of them so wished it. The only thing that held her trapped was his desire – and perhaps her own.

"Acceptable enough?" he asked, and the pleasure was evident in the rich timbre of his voice.

"Yes."

"Good." His smile widened. "I suppose it didn't occur to you that to offer yourself so openly could be dangerous? After all, 'free rein' is such a wide, sweeping term, offering so many possibilities. It didn't strike you that I might desire at all to hurt you, in any way, given all you've put me through?"

Never had she felt so vulnerable, nor aroused. Though every part of her fought to deny it, there was no hiding the way her body was reacting to being helpless before him. She had to force herself to form words. "You said you'd never allow physical harm to befall me."

He chuckled. "So very trusting, but true enough, sweet one. Never a speck of harm to you – unless you wished for it. For example, I think it would be of mutual benefit if I were to tan your lovely arse with my hand, sometime, as your penance for causing us both to wait so long for this."

That new possibility sent Sarah's poor mind flailing too hard to make coherent reply possible, and so he continued. "Such an innocent, trusting thing, and yet, still, you thought to include that nonsense about leaving you unbroken – a virgin. You fret about your purity, when, in actual fact, love, it will take me far longer than a paltry ten-minute fuck to make you mine. Care to try me and see?"

Her shock must have shown in her eyes, as he laughed again, starting to circle her body in an almost predatory manner. "Oh, not now, of course, sweet Sarah – as per our little agreement, we have other pursuits to occupy us these next few minutes. Anything, and everything, shy of that one … little … thing."

Sarah's stomach gave a low-down flutter as he came to stand behind her. His body leaned in close, not quite enough to touch her, but so that she could feel the heat of him. His next words came softly against her right ear.

"Excited? Scared? After all, this is all so new to you, isn't it, love? So very naïve," he continued, his voice a low rumble against her earlobe. "Did it not occur to you I could demand your mouth around my cock; my fingers and tongue deep inside you?" Sarah felt him smile. "Perhaps it did. You do, after all, know what I expect from you. After all this time, we're quite intimate companions, you and I – aren't we? Lacking only that intimacy in the flesh."

He reached up between her clenched hands, and gave the rope she clung to a sharp tug, as if to prove a point. "Though let us not forget a time quite like this in your dreams, where you bowed to my will all too well-"

The knowledge of that dream throbbed hotly between her thighs, and she could feel it set fire to her cheeks. "Oh, not that, please!" was her immediate reply.

He released the rope, and instead ran a finger across her lower lip – no more than a light, teasing touch, yet it made her whole body tremble. "Hush, precious. You gave your word – 'no objections', remember? It was, after all, such an agreeable fantasy for us both." He chuckled softly against her hair. "I can well imagine the delightful hue your cheeks would turn if we spoke intimately of that. Still, it would be churlish of me to talk of something quite so damning, against your will. I'll relent – for now."

She could feel her blush darkening. Not being able to see him was the worst of it – knowing that smirk she knew all too well was in full bloom behind her back, enjoying her embarrassment. "Are you going to talk the whole time, or actually do something?" she asked, hot, and all-too-bothered by his words, not to mention his arrogance.

"My, we are testy when we're left wanting, aren't we, Sarah?" He chuckled again. "I'll have to remember that, for future encounters."

By some blessing, he came to stand in front of her once more – perhaps deciding that he wished to see her reaction to his teases.

"My most precious thing – mine, at last," he said, and she saw that the crystal-tipped cane of her fantasies was now tightly gripped in his right hand. She could not help but stare at it as he spoke. "While a most selfish part of me hungers to feed on your delectable body, hurrying to grope and feel and experience all it may – as I'm sure you intended – I fear a more important lesson is in order." He lifted his cane and seemed to consider the crystal atop it, turning it this way and that in the light, before finally turning his attention back to her.

"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah," he singsonged, letting the smooth orb come to rest at the corner of his smirking mouth. "You offer so little, and expect so much in return. You expect, with a snap of your fingers, for your king to be reduced to an unworthy, snivelling whelp at your feet. You expect me to be at your beck and call, driven to servitude by the cruel mistress who allows me but to beg at her table. But you must understand, pet, that my control will always trump yours. This is not about how far you can hope to press me, but how much further I will always push back."

He had left off his gloves, and his long fingers were as skilled as ever, twirling the heavy cane easily in his hand, so that the crystalline end was now pointed towards her. He levelled the end almost accusingly at her face, as his eyes traced a slow line downwards along her body.

"Where to start, eh, love?" he mused, and Sarah gasped as the orb touched her beneath her chin. It felt cool against her heated skin, tilting her head upwards to bare her throat to him. It occurred to her that, for the first time outside of her most sordid dreams, she was staring up at the Goblin King's bedroom ceiling. Jareth only hummed softly to himself, turning the point of her chin this way and that at his whim – clearly his way of showing that he now held absolute control, albeit temporarily. Sarah did not know whether to cry out in fear or in relief as the cane slipped lower.

The cane slid down along her exposed throat in a smooth line, coming to a stop when it reached the sensitive hollow where her pulse beat its strongest. As he kept her waiting that way, she swore he must have felt the way her pulse quickened even then, speeding away beneath the cool crystal and his most patient hand. When she dared to look upon his face again, she saw his grin, and it was positively wolfish. She did not get to see it for long, however, as, once more, he strolled out of her line of sight, letting the cane trace a slow circle of her neck as he went.

It was only when the warmth of his body was pressed sinfully close to her back that he began where he had left off, hooking his right arm around her body now, to give her the touch of his cane. He let it move from the hollow of her throat, along her chest and down into the valley between her breasts, tugging down the loose neckline of her gown along with it. She felt his presence, looming over her shoulder to admire the view, and would not allow herself the humiliation of looking at him, lest she see his satisfaction; the dark fire of lust lighting his strange, glorious eyes.

There, he allowed the cane to wander in gradually widening circles, the crystal skimming the contours of her bra to caress the inner slope of each breast. The material was thin enough for her to feel the cool orb, rubbing her in ways she only wished that he would. She could not control the rapid acceleration of her breathing, conscious of the way her breasts now heaved for him every time she inhaled.

"No one has ever touched you, have they, Sarah?" His free hand touched her hair, now, stroking her with his bare fingers – his only concession to his own desire so far. When she could only whimper in response, he continued. "No, you remain so pure and sweet for me, don't you, love? So luscious and ready." His words were hot against her neck, stroking her with their own seduction, even as his cane now traced the swell of her left breast.

"So very tempting … and you know I am not a patient man. But I can wait, pet, and I will wait. I will wait 'til the end of the earth draws nigh, for you to give yourself over to me entirely. I will wait until then, and only then, to slake my own lusts. Yours, however …" The tip of the cane found her nipple, making her cry out.

"Your desires cannot wait any longer, can they? That is why you offer yourself so freely now, in the hopes that I will be swayed into submission by the mere promise of your affections." Rubbing slowly now – small, sensuous circles that set her entire body trembling, her nipple peaked and so very sensitive beneath his touch.

"Such a tempting offer, but this is my kingdom, Sarah, and my most royal hands will worship only my queen." She sensed his smirk, then. "Still, that isn't to say we can't have a little fun." His hot tongue caressed her earlobe, and she all but melted when she heard him add: "There's much I can still do with a virgin."

The colours of the room seemed to both blur and grow suddenly brighter, as the cane relinquished her breast, only to begin a slow descent of her stomach. The rope above her head burned deep grooves into her fingers, with how desperately hard she clung to it – it seemed like the only thing keeping her standing, after all. The cane's smooth tip rolled a teasing path all the way down to her navel, sending every muscle it touched into rippling, quivering anticipation beneath the thin satin of her nightgown. She had to bite her lip to stop from crying out when it first caressed her mound through the fabric. He did not have to ask her to spread her legs for him – she did that on her own.

"No one has ever touched you," Jareth repeated, "but you have stroked yourself to ecstasy, haven't you, precious? How many mornings have you woken, craving nothing so more than my caress, but having to settle for only your own?"

Hardly any. Too many. None. All. Lies and damning truths that fought for Sarah's lips, but all that emerged was a moan, as the cane crept lower. The very pit of her stomach unravelled like loose silk, and she found her hips arching to increase that contact. He moved the cane at no one's pace but his own, though, slow and steady, rubbing her through the thin material of her nightgown and underwear. Undeniably wet and clinging as her panties already were, they were no barrier at all for him. He pressed the tip lower, just enough to feed the molten pulse of desire in her clitoris; the anticipation that hummed through her slick and swollen lips. So close, yet so far away from the friction her body so badly needed.

"Answer me, Sarah," he demanded.

"Please," she gasped. "Please …"

Jareth laughed softly. "Nothing would satisfy me more than to please you, love, but I will have your submission first. Are you ready to yield to your king? Are you ready to worship me, so that I, in turn, may worship you? Say you'll give me your hand – as my queen – and I'll gladly give you the release you so wish for with my own."

Biting back a groan, and with as much defiance as she could muster, Sarah finally turned her head to meet his gaze. His mismatched pupils burned with as much lustful fire as her own, and it gave her at least some satisfaction to glare into them as she hissed her response. "I thought this little encounter was for your benefit, not mine, Your Highness."

"Oh, but it is," he purred, and captured her mouth in another hard, probing kiss.

Sarah surrendered to it willingly, closing her eyes and opening herself to his questing tongue. She felt the wonderful pressure down below shift to match the rhythm of his kiss, the smooth crystal running back and forth and dipping between her lips, as his tongue did. She moaned into his mouth, unable to help herself any longer. She was drawing closer now – so close she could hardly stand it – but again, he left her wanting. He abandoned her mouth, but the cane moved lower still, to slip beneath the hem of her gown, this time, running over each bare thigh in turn, and the thin triangle of fabric in between.

"God, what are you doing to me?" she whimpered, her restless hips knowing all too well.

"If this displeases you so, then simply let go of the rope. Stop me." He chuckled softly. "Say the words, even. Withdraw consent if you truly wish to, because, despite your pretence at fighting it, love, you've yet to object to anything I've done."

He had her, and they both knew it. He held no power over her except that which she chose to give him … and, staring into those deep, intense eyes, she knew she didn't want him to stop. How much easier this would be if he had bound her wrists.

"No," she murmured, as if from some distance away. "We made an agreement, and … I won't go back on it."

He held her eyes for a long time, and then smiled. "Wisely spoken. Best to leave all blame in my hands, isn't it, pet? Very well. We've still time - let's go a little further, shall we?"

Swift and nimble, his left hand crept around the swell of her hip, dipping beneath her gown with easy grace. Sarah felt her heart rise up into her mouth as, taking great care not to touch her bare flesh, he plucked the damp crotch of her panties aside, to expose her completely. With his right hand, he brought the crystal to her sex again, and she was helpless but to moan as the cold, smooth glass pressed between her hot, slick folds. Her stomach knotted tight with the anticipation, knowing just how easily she could come just from this – if he would only let her. Just when she could stand it no longer, the crystal withdrew, and the shaft of the cane came to rest lightly against her shoulder.

Flushed, confused and breathing hard, she turned her head, only to find him gazing back at her, his eyes hooded with lust. The crystal tip of the cane was shining wet with her honey, and only inches away from that smirking mouth of his.

"A 'taste', you offered me, wasn't it, love?" he crooned, and then slowly, he ran his tongue out over the shining orb, his eyes never leaving hers.

Sarah drew a deep, shuddering breath, and for a moment, her heart seemed to forget how to beat. Her lips parted of their own accord as she watched that smooth pink tongue sweep every inch of the crystal in slow, methodical strokes, determined to collect every last drop of her juices. By the time he was done – taking long enough to have cleaned the thing twice over, and sending her libido into overdrive in the process – she could feel more of her juices already pooling between her open thighs.

"Sweeter than any peach," he confided, with a wink, and his words sent that knot of tension in her belly plummeting lower. He did not wait for her response, before lowering the cane to her dripping sex once more.

Sarah rocked her hips to meet him, abandoning any last attempt at modesty. He knew exactly what effect he was having on her, and damn him if he thought he would shame her into begging him to stop. Her body craved this – needed it badly – and she heeded its call, wanton and needy as she sought out more of that smooth caress that massaged her slick core so well.

"Tell me how it feels, love," he demanded, pressing over her shoulder to watch her face, his words hot against her ear. When she gave no immediate reply, he pressed the cane more firmly against her entrance, circling that tight ring of sensitive pink flesh with that hard, unyielding glass.

In spite of her fear, Sarah found herself actually arching against it – her eager body grinding itself against the probing crystal tip that was poised to enter her. "Oh … it won't fit … it can't fit …"

Jareth rumbled his amusement against her neck. "Mmm. Nor do I wish it to, precious. Why on earth would I sully what is yet mine to claim by letting a mere crystal be the first to ever … penetrate … you?"

How her whole body seemed to loosen and then grip oh, so tightly at that word!

"In any case, dear one," he continued, "this is but a sample, as it were – the merest whisper of what wonderful symphonies we'll compose. We'll be forever entwined together, you and I, when you fail – my delightful, delicious queen, to feast upon, and do with as I please."

Somehow, she managed one last shred of defiance. "If I fail."

Jareth simply smiled … and pressed.

Sarah gave a loud moan, hardly caring for the way it stretched his devious smile wider. "Kiss me again," she demanded, in a whisper.

For a wonder, the Goblin King obeyed, plundering her mouth as his cane stroked, and stroked.

It didn't take long, given the way he had kept her wanting for so many months already. He kissed her again and again as she neared the brink – did not seem able to stop kissing her. As her body writhed and tensed in anticipation, all but ready to give to him, it was he who surrendered first. The pressure of the cane that pleasured her vanished, and dimly she heard it cast aside, shattered to pieces, for all either of them cared. Before she could mourn its loss, his hand moved between her thighs to replace it. Their eyes met and held, each wide with discovery and wonder, as his fingers slid over her slick flesh for the first time.

"The cane … you said …"

"I was wrong," he murmured, his eyes dark with intent, his fingers rubbing, pressing, worshipping her, finding that sensitive nub that begged his attention most. "Your pleasure will come from me, this time, as it always should. Always by my own hand."

It was something of a comfort to know that even his control had its limits. Finally, he would grant her release. The hand that stroked at her core would not stop, or slow. The growing thrill she felt would not dim and fade with the light of day – she would finally come for him. She captured his mouth, this time, giving him every last bit of the desire that was erupting inside her. She couldn't help but moan into that kiss, and, soon, she heard and felt him groan his own need against her mouth.

Tensing, tensing until she couldn't stand it any more, finally, she had to release the rope. Her head rocked back against his shoulder, and through closed eyes, she sought his stability to ground her, clutching firmly to the crook of his arm. Breathing hard, her other hand quickly covered his, guiding and coaxing them both towards her climax. At once, he embraced her fully, his free arm curling tightly about her waist, drawing her body back against his own as his fingers worked their magic between her thighs.

"Oh, Sarah." His voice was nothing she had heard before – not even in the dreams. It was hoarse and choked with emotion, his breathing ragged against her ear. As Sarah's world came undone, he buried his face into the crook of her neck, burning her with a single hard kiss that was enough to push her over the edge.

She cried out and arched against his hand as her pleasure overwhelmed her, wracking her whole body with tremors she could not hope to control. Her orgasm washed over her in hot, pulsing waves, and through it all, she was aware of the way he held her, riding every swell and every crest along with her. When her knees felt ready to give out, he supported her, his body the rock that held her firm.

The height of her pleasure passed slowly, leaving her with its warm glow, and a sense of peace she had never known. In it, he remained with her, his lips nuzzling at her neck and jawline with whisper-soft kisses as her breathing evened and slowed. When the aftershocks finally ceased, he simply held her, wrapping both arms securely around her waist.

She smiled. "I feel like I'm floating."

He murmured his agreement in her ear, before pressing another of those brief, tender kisses beneath it. "I'm glad to hear it, but time's almost up, love. Ten minutes, as you said."

His words were like cold water upon that all-too-brief warmth. She tried to turn in his arms, wanting to thank him – wanting to at least see him after … after.

"Don't," he murmured. His embrace was gentle, but firm.

"But-"

"I want to remember you this way a moment longer."

Even as he spoke, the arms encircling her waist begun to lose some of their solidity, and she called out in alarm. "Wait! You didn't even-"

"Four hours remain, Sarah."

When, at last, she managed to turn, the room around her was gone, and so was he. It was not the first time he had left her alone, with damp panties and a head full of jumbled thoughts and emotions, but it was – by far – the loneliest.