What happens....
Sarah finished knotting the cord of her dressing gown and exited the bathroom, her skin glowing after her bath. Crossing to the bench at the end of the bed she looked to see what clothes Jareth would materialise for her. She frowned. The bench was empty. Usually, when she felt like getting dressed Jareth would sense it and the clothing would appear. Perhaps he was a little preoccupied today? She sighed and crossed to one of the armchairs that were drawn up in front of the fire. Curling her feet up underneath her and tugging the edge of the gown a little lower, she let her head fall back against the head rest. A lazy smile spread itself across her face, her eyes fluttering shut as she recalled the events of that morning.
Awakening to find the sheets folded back to the foot of the bed, Jareth lying on his side, head propped on his arm as he observed her sleeping form. His beautiful eyes were filled with awe at the sight of her nakedness. He sat up, leaning in his arm, his hair, ruffled from sleep falling in a mussed up tumble over his forehead. He had not said anything, but had drawn her to him and kissed her lightly on the lips, mouth shut. Chaste.
As she had lain back against the pillow his hand ran down the smooth column of her neck, curling round, following her contours, opening out caress her shoulder, travelling on down, over her breast. He did not linger, moved on down until his hand rested on her waist. For some reason, the action did not seem sexual and, glancing down, she realised that the same feeling must be commanding him. He wasn't hard. But the look in his eye was one of love. Almost worship.
She had felt his fingers tighten on the curve of her waist, turning her gentle so that she was propped half lying on her stomach. His eyes raked her back and his hand had run appreciatively from neck to thigh.
"Sarah," he murmured, and his voice was serious, "you really are beautiful."
His hand had run further down her leg, drawing her knee up towards him until his hand rested on her calf.
"Just here," he whispered and lowered his head to kiss the swell of her buttock.
He released her and she rolled onto her back so that she could look up into his face. His eyes locked onto her lips and he lowered his heady slowly back to hers. His lips barely brushed her. Once. Twice. His eyes open, so close as he gazed into hers. His hand travelled up the flat plane of her stomach, as though exploring the region in a new light. He let his hand rest on her breast, still, not stimulating or moving. He had pulled back and looked at where his hand lay, pinching her nipple between index and middle finger and pulling upwards slightly. He sank his head down to her, drawing a circle round it with his tongue, swirling over the tightening bud. He pulled back and observed his handiwork, running delicate fingers over the now erect peak. She reached up to him and brushed his own nipple and he had caught her hand and pressed it flat to his chest as he settled back against the pillow. She had been running her hand down the side of his stomach, intending to go lower, when a loud knocking on the door had interrupted them. Jareth had left in a flurry of goblin shouting to attend to a messenger who had arrived with some news.
Sarah opened her eyes and sighed. If only they had not been interrupted. She rose and crossed to the window, wrapping her arms round herself, fingers digging into the upper sleeves of the dressing gown as she stared out across the Labyrinth.