Disclaimer: Same as always…Not mine, no profit, all for fun!
A/N: Sorry this took longer than usual to update. I had some trouble with the second half…must've re-written it three or four times (these two just don't want to get along!) and I'm still not entirely happy with it. Anyhoo, just hope it makes some kind of sense. I'm all jacked up on cold medicine, so for all I know it's all about pink bunnies or something. No, for real…this chapter is ALL J/S. And the M warning is starting to come into play. This is my first posted attempt at anything resembling a lemon…be warned!
Chapter 10
Ensnared through a Cliché
Sarah's POV
I'd never realized how powerfully intimidating a simple wooden door could be. Doors were meant to act as comforting barriers to protect against the elements or nefarious purposes, but they were also supposed to be welcoming – a gateway to what lies beyond. Why was it that so many doors in the Underground were neither welcoming nor comforting? Certainly the Labyrinth door had not offered me any solace. I remembered the laborious groan it released as it slowly swung open and the ominous thud as it closed behind me. The door I faced now seemed just as menacing, as it too shielded a great unknown. Sure, I'd left the safety of my own door swiftly enough, but now that I'd crossed the hall, the wind in my sails had positively deflated.
What had seemed such a brilliant idea only minutes ago was now drowning in doubtful thoughts. Was I really ready to face him again? Would he be mad that I disturbed him in his private chambers? What if he was honestly sleeping? If he was, what if he was…naked? That annoyingly helpful subdivision of my conscience was only too happy to point out that since he claimed I was his wife, I had every right to enter his room, as he had mine, and that it would serve him right if I woke him up, since he had conveniently left me behind while tarrying about in my world, and if he was naked, well, would I really mind so much?
I was blushing already and I hadn't even knocked yet. What was it Raelle had said? Rip off the band aid?
I screwed my eyes shut and raised my hand to knock on the door before I could talk myself out of it, but my knuckles met air rather than rough wood.
"Ah. It's you. To what do I owe the pleasure of this surprise visit?"
I actually shivered, though I was far from cold. That deliciously haughty, accented voice could turn even the purest angel into a willing sinner. I opened my eyes slowly, as if the action would somehow protect me from the sight that I knew would wreak havoc on my senses. How foolish I was at times.
He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed just below his chest. While his playful blonde hair was a bit mussed, likely from sleep, the rest of him was just as dangerous to behold as ever. The odd crescent moon pendant he always wore rested against his smooth, pale flesh, clearly displayed due to the fact his black shirt hung open, framing his lean muscled torso. Had I ever really given thought to how insanely gorgeous Jareth looked in black? His snug trousers were also black…and made from leather. I was momentarily startled to see that his feet were bare, contrasting sharply with the dark marble floor. Somehow seeing him in even the smallest amount of undress was incredibly intimate, and surprisingly arousing. I forced my gaze upwards quickly, appreciating his long, toned legs as I went.
My eyes lingered a little too long below his waist. At fifteen, I'd certainly noticed what was barely hidden beneath the Goblin King's impressively tight pants, but I'd been more embarrassed by it than intrigued. That was certainly not the case now. Was Jareth a shower or a grower? The obscene thought flitted through my addled mind before I could stop it, chased swiftly by yet another raging blush.
A clearing of a throat snapped my eyes back to his face. His entire expression shifted into the most devilish smirk I'd ever seen. I held his stare defiantly, despite the heat flooding my face. He surprisingly, and probably wisely, did not offer a comment.
"I – I thought you were sleeping," I mumbled lamely.
His grin widened to show his pointy teeth and he laughed. "So you thought to rouse me? Deny me my rest?" He ducked his head until we were eye to eye. Amusement reigned in his expression. "I suppose turnabout is fair play, considering our last meeting and my efforts to disturb your slumber."
"You've been gone," I stated, completely bypassing his not-so-subtle reference to that night.
"I wasn't aware you were keeping tabs on me. Am I to conclude you…missed me?"
I ignored his attempt to draw me in to another childish argument. "I had some more questions."
"No doubt," his lips twitched in amusement. He straightened and stepped to the side, sweeping one arm elegantly into the room in the universal symbol of 'come on in.' Only problem was, I had to brush right past him to do that, and my feet seemed to be having an issue with it. He smirked again, saying in a suddenly much lower voice, "I don't bite, Sarah. Well, not unless you want me to."
I lifted my chin and marched past him, only jumping slightly at the sound of the door closing us in. No, the doors here were definitely not comforting at all. Neither was the enormous four-poster bed situated directly in my current line of sight. Best not to think about that at all.
He casually swaggered by my stiff form to take a glass decanter off a shelf by his fireplace. "Care for a drink?"
"It's not even eight yet," I criticized, though the promise of liquid courage was sorely tempting, just like the man offering it.
"Ah. But again, we are in the Underground, and do not have need of such moralistic condemnations." He poured the dark, crimson liquid into two goblets, and handed one to me wordlessly before taking his own to one of the two indigo wingback chairs before the mantle. I noticed openly that the set-up of his chamber was very much like the one I was staying in, only the color scheme was more vibrant with jeweled reds, blues, and purples. Was it a coincidence that they were all my favorite colors?
"Come. Sit," he beckoned as he settled himself comfortably, stretching one arm across the back of the chair and crossing a naked ankle upon a leather-clad knee.
My fingers clenched around the goblet in my hand as if it had miraculously transformed into some kind of shield that would protect me if I put myself within reach of this far too unpredictable man. I sat stiffly in the chair across from his, a simple round end table the only thing separating us. I stared unabashedly as he lifted his glass to his lips. Even the way he swallowed was seductive. I suddenly had very strong doubts that I would not escape this room as innocent as I had entered it. What the hell had I been thinking, willingly entering his bedroom alone? It was as stupid as playing with fire.
My own wine became falsely interesting. I took a huge swig, nearly draining it, before setting it on the table, trying not to cough as the bitter liquid burned my throat and made my eyes water. And I'd thought 151 rum was strong!
I was far too aware of his eyes upon me, though I refused to directly meet his gaze. Somehow, I knew that would be my undoing. "I suppose I should start with an apology," I paused, twisting my fingers nervously.
"Really," was his only comment. I did not need to look at him to know how amused he was. His mirth at my expense was always a surefire catalyst to my indignation.
"Don't get ahead of yourself. You've plenty of your own explaining to do," I retorted rather churlishly.
"Forgive me, dearest. Do continue; you've left me in such suspense," his voice hissed the final word caressingly.
"Do you have to do that?" I snapped. Though, I was more irritated at myself than him. Even a few simple words from him were as dangerous as electricity dancing across my skin.
"Do what, precious?"
I chanced a look at his face. He blinked with mock innocence, a small smile playing at his lips. He held my gaze intimately as he brought his wine to his mouth once more, this time letting his tongue trace his upper lip after setting his empty glass next to mine. He may as well have licked a trail across my own skin. Was this magic? Had he somehow placed a spell on me, making me hyper-aware of his smallest movements?
"You know very well what…" I muttered angrily, ripping my eyes from his annoyingly distracting face. "It's like you're the personification of seduction or something," I whispered, though I had little doubt he heard me loud and clear.
"And do you want to be seduced, Sarah?"
I felt my natural defenses flare into action again, ready to rumble in face of a potential hazard, of which Jareth never failed to present. But I squashed them down immediately, realizing I was being set up again. He was just teasing me. Couldn't I handle a bit of teasing? Really, I should be flattered that he continued to make the effort, unless of course he just enjoyed my discomfort. In which case, I shouldn't indulge him. "Over thinking things much, Sarah?"
I laughed in spite of myself. "You know, I don't like fighting with you, but I can't seem to help myself," I smiled wryly.
"Yes, I'd say that is an affliction we both suffer from." His lilting voice was for once friendly and free of innuendo.
I took a deep breath before finally speaking. "It's just…I-I still don't remember exactly what happened all those years ago, so to just give in to all this is really hard for me. But, I believe you. I believe what you showed me, and I'm sorry I've been so difficult. I can see that you've probably had very different expectations for how this was going to go, and," I stopped again, my courage – or was it pride? – waning.
My attention was forced to move back to him as he slowly uncrossed his legs and stood to refill our glasses. I started to protest, the alcohol was already blooming in my veins, but he silenced me with a gloved finger to my lips. I absently mused at the fact he wore no socks or shoes, but still had on those ridiculous gloves.
"There's no one to tell us no, Sarah." He raised his glass in salute, and smiled with that same mischievous glint I'd come to recognize as pleasure. He formed a crystal and tossed it into the barren hearth. A roaring fire instantly blazed to life. This was quickly turning into the big, fat, seduction cliché I'd nearly accused him of only moments before. All that was missing was Barry White and a bearskin rug. His lips twitched again at my suspicious frown. "There is quite a chill in the air this morning, is there not?" He resumed his place beside me and encouraged me to drink more of my wine. "Now, I do believe you were saying something about expectations? Hmm?"
I had intended to grill him about his trip above, demand to know his intentions with me, and eventually thank him for sending Ray with my stuff, but I'd forgotten not to look in his eyes and found myself once again distracted. Every time our eyes met, it was like some great magnet resided within my chest and pulled me towards him. I'd felt it at other times as well, but when his blue orbs were fixated on me, I literally wanted to drown in him.
He reached forward carefully and moved a strand of hair away from my face, careful not to touch my actual skin. Something about the motion was familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. Instead, my ever helpful brain spat out the first thing it could think of; "Why do you always wear gloves?
"Always so curious." He smirked arrogantly. "I wear them for two reasons. They are appropriate for my position as Fae nobility, and they protect those around me from being accidently affected by magic. My hands are a point of power."
Of course I should've already guessed the second part. I'd seen him form enough crystals to have been able to piece it together. "That makes sense," I replied rather lamely. "So you can't…touch things…without them? Is it like that for all Fae?" Even as I asked I realized it wasn't true; after all, Aetia didn't wear gloves. "Or just males?"
He stood slowly while keeping his gaze steady on me. Stepping closer, he pulled me to my feet until our bodies were only inches apart. His strange, beautiful eyes held mine captive while he deliberately positioned his hands so that I could see them. Ever so slowly, he tugged the glove on his right hand off and held it in his left. My heart jumped into my throat. I could hear my pulse hammering in my head and heat flooded through my body. He raised his bare hand towards my face and deliberately stroked my skin from my cheek to my jaw with the tips of his long fingers. A hot, tingling sensation coursed across my cheek, perfectly outlining the cells he had touched as if caressed by pure magic.
"I assure you, I can touch whatever I want," he whispered, his voice somewhat throatier than usual. "And as for all male Fae, you'll never find out, for none else shall ever touch you."
All the innocent banter was gone. Fire blazed in his eyes, completely incinerating my desire to drown. No, I wanted to burn right along with him. I gulped in a breath and picked up my wine goblet again, stepping to the side and away from him as I choked the contents down. The potent liquid didn't scald nearly as much this time.
"Now…is that really the question you wanted of me?" He stalked closer. That invisible magnet wanted me to throw myself into his arms, wanted to touch fingertips to the exposed skin of his chest and curl through strands of golden hair. I recoiled nervously, nearly knocking the table over in my attempts to flee. He reached out his bare hand and grasped my elbow lightly to steady me. Thank God I was wearing long sleeves.
"Um, qu-questions?" I stuttered helplessly. What was it I had been so determined to know when I came to his room?
He smiled incredulously and cocked his head to the side. "You defied me fearlessly at every turn as a child, but now, alone as we are and after all this time, you are afraid of me?"
How could I explain that I wasn't necessarily afraid of him, just the way he made me feel? With every moment that passed since I'd been reunited with Jareth, I'd grown just a little bit more chagrined at my body's refusal to act like a grown-up in his presence. I was not a little girl anymore –well, aside from my lack of experience – and I should be able to stand in front of an attractive man without turning fifty different shades of crimson. I should be able to meet his gaze without feeling like I was completely drunk – which in this circumstance, maybe I was – and I should be able to have some kind of witty or coy retort. But no; I was nothing but a bumbling, blushing, virgin who was way out of her league.
"I just don't know if I can trust you…I want to, I do. I want to give this a try."
"Define try?"
"Well…you say we're, uhm, married?"
His eyes glinted wolfishly. "In a matter of speaking..."
"If we're really married…if I really have given up my life as I know it to spend the rest of forever with you…then, I just need to know this isn't some game to you."
"Is it a game to you?"
"No…And I know I can't avoid you forever, but I don't know how to get close to you either."
"Am I truly so undesirable, Sarah?" I watched like a helpless rabbit as he moved directly in front of me. Keeping my eyes firmly locked within his own gaze, he slowly reached across, took the goblet from my hand and set it on the table.
"You know you're not," I answered quickly, feeling the sweeping blush building again. "But this can't just be about…lust." I spat the last word like it was dirty. He chuckled and stepped closer, placing one gloved hand at my waist.
"So you do want me after all, precious. I know how difficult that must have been to admit." His grip tightened as he took on the persona of the cat that ate the canary. "I want you to be comfortable with me, Sarah."
The burn from his intense look seeped through every part of me stronger than the wine as he shifted closer and carefully wrapped his hands around my upper arms, pulling gently until I found myself pressed along his impressive body. I started to twist, a natural reaction to being so close to him despite the delighted tingling coursing within me, but his grip tightened. His hands spread outwards until one rested behind my shoulder blades and the other entwined itself in my long hair. "Don't fight me, precious. Please," he whispered in my ear. It was the please that did me in.
I lowered my head until it rested upon his chest. He held me wordlessly for ages, my cheek pressed against the soft fabric of his shirt and the warm skin beneath it. I could hear the steady beating of his heart and his heady scent assailed my senses, but rather than calming my trembling, he only succeeded in making my pulse pound faster.
A gloved hand traced itself over the curve of my cheek before slipping beneath my chin and lifting it to meet his eyes once more. I gasped involuntarily at the intensity I saw there, suddenly afraid all over again. "Jareth, I-I've never –"
"Shh, precious. Just a kiss. Just a small token of affection between a man and his wife."
His face moved towards mine in the slowest increments, almost as if he were baiting me to try to resist. But I didn't want to. In that moment, I absolutely craved the knowledge of what it would be like to kiss this beautiful man. I shifted up on my toes and closed my eyes, holding my breath, until I felt warm skin touch mine. His kiss started slowly and tenderly, just as I'd always imagined, but it quickly progressed to more. His arms tightened possessively around me as he increased the pressure of his lips, nearly bruising in their conquest. My own hands wove through his silky hair, cementing his head to mine. I felt the tip of his tongue trace my bottom lip and I gasped, allowing him to deepen the kiss. His tongue coaxed mine to dance and a moan escaped my throat as waves of pleasure raced through my body, warming my heart and setting lower parts of me ablaze. He tasted of wine, spices, and magic, and I never wanted to let him go.
I was numbly aware that he'd lifted me and was walking towards the bed, my legs wrapped shamelessly around his abdomen. Alarm bells were trying to ring in my brain, but that oh so helpful wanton conscience of mine was holding the bells hostage. I tried to shift my weight, but only succeeded in welding myself lower on his body. His obvious arousal pressed firmly against my center, making my stomach clench with a delicious agony I'd never experienced before. He groaned and tore his lips from mine, raining hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of my neck.
Hazy protests began mumbling past the blinding lust. "Jareth, stop!" I panicked.
Jareth's POV
I'd not lain on my bed for even five minutes when the sensory alarm I'd placed near my door alerted me of a visitor. The image of Sarah – wide-eyed, innocent, blushing, and nervous – standing before my chamber filled me with intense curiosity and even greater desire. Her absolutely perfect portrayal of proffered virtue was nearly impossible to resist, particularly in the state she'd been driving me to since her arrival. Her only saving grace had been the amusement I'd gleaned from observing her mismatched attire – those horrendous Aboveground thick-soled mules peeking out from beneath her beautiful Underground dress. What a fitting homage to the girl herself though; she would always be of both worlds. It was enough to inspire love all over again, if only she were able to cease her constant defiance, although that in itself was another conundrum. Would I still love her without her feistiness?
But wonders of wonders, she had been…pleasant; for once receiving my flirtations with graceful amusement. She had even apologized! Before I could stop myself, I'd given her Fae wine. I knew it was far stronger than anything she'd ever be able to obtain in her world, and I knew its reputation for greatly reducing inhibitions, but it was beyond time for Sarah Williams to get out of her own way. That she initially fell for my rather obvious attempt to seduce her was a bit surprising; I'd been expecting her current protestations from the very beginning.
"Jareth, stop," her lust-ridden voice objected feebly. She pushed against my chest with her dainty palms, though her legs continued to grip my waist intimately.
I licked a wet, hot trail beneath her jaw, leading my teeth to nip lightly on her ear lobe. "Stop? Whatever for, Sarah mine?"
Her breath expelled with a passion induced moan. Her tiny fists lifted to tug mercilessly on the hair at the nape of my neck again, sending bolts of desire swirling through me. I could feel her pulse pounding against my chest, and thanks to our connection, I knew her want was nearly as strong as my own.
I purposefully slid one hand from behind her shoulders to cup her rear, pulling our bodies even more tightly together.
"I want you, Sarah." I punctuated my words by flexing my hips against hers. The heat from her womanhood was nearly my undoing. It had been far too long. Perhaps my chastity during our lengthy engagement had not been the wisest course after all.
"I-I can't. I've never, I mean, I don't know-" She twisted helplessly in my arms, which only served to further my own discomfort. What was it Raelle had said? Sometimes mortals say one thing but mean another? I lowered my lips to hers once more, sucking gently on her lower lip before teasing her tongue with mine.
She ripped her face away, breath coming in heated gasps, and tried to unwind a leg from my hip. "Please, Jareth. Please stop."
I set her down reluctantly before pulling away with a frustrated sigh. "What exactly is the problem?"
She stepped a good number of paces away from me, and consequently the bed we were about to utilize, before speaking. "We barely know each other."
"Come, come, come, Sarah. That is most certainly not true." I stalked her purposefully, ready to re-engage our pursuits as soon as she had exhausted her pathetic attempts at protesting.
"What I meant was, I don't really know anything about you."
"How does that in any way prevent us from enjoying one another's physical company?"
She made a noise of pure disgust. "Well, I haven't kept my virginity for all this time just to throw it away at the first signs of lust." She crossed her arms in front of herself, a ridiculous gesture considering the state of her tangled hair and her kiss-swollen lips.
"Will this infernal waltz never end? Going in circles does not even begin to describe this girl!"
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose between two fingers. "Sarah, you have recently pointed out that you accept this union."
She nodded, eyes huge with her defiance and nervousness.
"You do realize this is going to happen eventually?" I motioned between our two bodies.
She nodded again, but this time could not hold her gaze steady.
"Then why delay the inevitable? You desire me, I desire you. Perhaps we do not know the details of each other's lives yet, but we are in a committed relationship, as you humans like to say."
"Are we?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
My eyes narrowed darkly. Just what was she implying? "There will never be another for you, Sarah. You are mine." I couldn't control the threatening quality of my voice.
"But what about you?"
Was this really the time to explain the customs of the Underground to her? "It is different for males, particularly the nobility…"
"So you can just sleep with whoever you feel like?" She snorted angrily. "That's disgusting! You really think I'd let you touch me after being with someone else?"
"I could force you. It is within my right," my voice dropped in pitch. I didn't feel it necessary to mention my long period of abstinence, nor how I'd born it out of loyalty to the love we'd once pledged, the love I still harbored. Her attitude towards me in that moment was too unforgiving to offer anything but a mirror image of her own taunting.
"You've threatened that before," she straightened her spine and jutted out her chin. The image sent my mind on a whirlwind back to the time she had defiantly called the Labyrinth a 'piece of cake.' She had been bluffing then, just as she was now. "And you're right; I can't stop you if you intend to rape me. But if you do, I will hate you forever."
Rape? Was she serious? "Oh, precious thing, how cruel you can be…always so quick to think the worst of me."
"Well, I don't trust you," she stated flatly.
"When have I ever lied to you, Sarah?" I felt the unfairness of her words stab at my own self-defense. "I only ever did what you asked. I have even told you secrets of my race, asking nothing in return. You are the one who entered my chamber this morning. You are the one who asked to be closer to me. You are the one who responded so deliciously to my kiss. So, I ask again, what have I ever done to deserve your distrust?"
"It's not what you've done…it's what you are! It's what I feel-" She ended her words abruptly and whirled around, but not quickly enough to prevent me from seeing the tears glinting in her eyes.
The realization hit me with the force of a gale wind. Her discomfort had little to do with me and everything to do with her own mistrust in herself. How often I forgot just how truly young she was. I bit back my irritation and gathered my patience.
Moving quietly to stand behind her, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her back against me. I pushed her hair over her shoulder and touched my lips to the skin below her ear tenderly. "Sarah, don't be afraid. There is nothing wrong with the way you are feeling. I am just as affected by you."
"I can't. Not yet. Don't you understand?"
I picked up her hand and ran my ungloved fingers across her palm softly before bringing it to my mouth to place a warm kiss in the center. I watched, smiling, as her eyes closed and a tremor ran through her. "You can, and you will…but I am not as heartless as you think. I am generous by nature, and I will give you your time, just as I did before. But you will not avoid me anymore."
"Just…what do you expect from me?" She turned in my arms. Her beautiful eyes swam with fear, nervousness, and could it be tenderness?
I thought carefully before answering, trying to form my words so as not to incur her irritation again; "Eventually, I expect you to act as a wife should, in all respects of the word – lover, partner, mother," my eyes simmered meaningfully. "But for the time being, it would be…helpful…if you would at least act the part in company. We are to have a guest from the Fae court in the castle upon the morrow, and she is expecting to see a loving couple."
"Loving couple, yeah right," she mumbled, turning her head away from me in a childish snit.
I pulled her face back to face me rather harshly. My own irritation was becoming harder to contain in light of her determination to relegate me back to the role of villain once again. "You must try to understand my position, Sarah. I realize you do not remember pledging yourself to me, but the fact of the matter is you did, and the entire Underground knows it. Therefore, it seems rather prudent that even if we try to forge this relationship slowly, we must present a united front in public."
"What exactly are you suggesting?"
"I propose a bargain. Your virtue for your complacency."
"Define complacency." Her eyes narrowed. I laughed softly as she echoed my earlier words.
"Simple. We continue getting to know one another as discussed without any undue pressuring on my part. However, for the eyes of the kingdom, and the court, you conduct yourself as my true betrothed."
"That sounds…fair," her eyes narrowed. Trust my Sarah not to agree easily to anything, not even when it benefited her more than anyone else, namely, me.
"You must listen and agree to my terms first, precious, lest you cry false against me afterwards,"
"Fine. What are the terms?"
"Were you truly ensconced as my betrothed, we would be sharing a bed," I paused at the exact moment she opened her mouth to object, just as I knew she would. "I give my word that I will not force anything upon you before you are ready, but I do expect you to begin allowing us the freedom to explore one another. I know you are innocent, Sarah. I promise you that I can be an excellent and patient teacher."
She swallowed audibly and wrapped her arms more tightly about herself. "What else?"
"You will share your day with me and allow me innocent liberties in the presence of others, namely the right to touch your hand or waist…to kiss you," I explained. "Think of it as the proper courtship we never had, dearest."
"And what exactly is in it for me?"
I had to force myself to step back from her and take several cleansing breaths before constructing an answer. This…girl…this ungrateful, human girl could never fail to cut me off at the proverbial knees with her callous comments. "What is in it for you? Aside from myself? How about honoring promises you made in good faith? How about remaining as a guest in this castle? Believe me, Sarah, there are far greater hardships which could await you in the Underground, where not even your status as my wife would save you."
"I don't really have a choice, do I?" She groused, turning to gaze absently over the balcony.
My temper flared dangerously at her words; the same sentiment that had been spoken only a few hours before by another underling. Though, Sarah's predicament was hardly worth the same protestation as the hobgoblin's. Surely, her lot was not nearly as distasteful as playing a spy in an evil Fae's court?
I knew very well my anger stemmed from my battered pride. This woman openly admitted her want of me, yet denied me once again. Her will seemed to argue only for argument's sake, and I was quite frankly tired of it. We both knew very well that she was not as disgusted by me as she wanted to pretend, and her misplaced comments did not grant her the power she seemed desperate to cling to.
"No. You don't," I replied tersely.
She stepped away from the balcony and turned her attention back to me. "Well, then I guess I accept," her tone dripped with sarcasm.
My eyes narrowed and my jaw clenched, but I refused to fall for her bait. "Good."
She sighed and allowed her stiff posture to relax, almost a visual representation of her perceived defeat. "When does this little arrangement start?"
"Immediately." I moved closer to her and was pleased that she did not flinch away.
She yawned, trying to hide the action behind her hand. I smiled knowingly. Now that her lust had run its course, the Fae wine would induce a sense of tranquility that was nearly impossible to ignore. But I was far from done with her. True, I would be patient as promised, but she would suffer as I did. She would feel the true curse of lust coursing through her veins, just as I'd been forced to shoulder for six years.
"You're tired. Come. Rest here. No one will disturb you. Then tonight, we shall dine with our friends, and I will formally present you to the kingdom."
"The kingdom?" She questioned sleepily.
"Yes. Though, I shan't make you meet every subject this evening." I took her hand and walked her to my large bed, prompting her to sit on the edge. I even removed her shoes for her. I was nothing, if not attentive.
Her eyelids drooped helplessly as she lay back against the pillows of my bed. "I suppose a nap wouldn't hurt…you promise you won't touch me?" Her eyes widened marginally.
I gave her my most genuine smile. "I promise, precious. Not until you're ready." "At least not with my hands…" I mentally added.
She stifled another yawn and curled into a ball, quickly succumbing to the effects of the wine and her own stress.
"Sleep well, Sarah mine. Pleasant dreams," I smirked as a crystal formed in my still ungloved hand. Inside the sphere, the familiar scene of our Goblin Ball whirled past, only this time I knew the ending would result in a much more sordid way. Sarah was about to partake in a sampling of my lust for once. I pressed the crystal into her palm and stretched out beside her, letting my own eyes drift shut and my exhaustion finally claim my reality. She was right; a nap sounded lovely.
A/N: I just want to reiterate that this story moves slowly. Not everything is revealed in each chapter. This is only day 4. Sorry if it is too slow for you. As a lovely reviewer pointed out, this is a heavily character driven story and being first person POV, a lot of the behind the scenes stuff will not be revealed until the character(s) know it. Please hang in there. I hope the ride will be worth it. If you do have questions, or just want to chat about what is going on, just comment or message me. I write back to registered users!
Thank you, thank you, thank you to all you wonderful people who continue reading, reviewing, alerting, and favoriting. It takes an enormous amount of motivation to keep up the writing pace. It helps knowing there are others who are just as interested in what will happen next as I am!