DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth, Sarah or Jareth (more's the pity!).
Warning: Adult themes, some language. No goblins or chickens were hurt in the writing of this chapter, and there is no fruit abuse in this chapter either. :)
Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews…please continue. They make me smile and help me to find my mojo which seems to go missing about the time I post each new chapter.
Ch. 7: Strange Bedfellows
Pulling the blanket tenderly over Sarah's bare shoulder, Jareth shook his head, a bemused smiled playing over his face as he contemplated just what happened since they declared their truce and the two of them ended up in her room.
No sooner had Sarah agreed to the terms of the truce, than he had pulled her bodily into his arms and stood, carrying her from the room as swiftly as he could. She had struggled (of course) and argued with him to put her down (naturally) but he had her in his arms and was not prepared to release her for any reason. They had taunted and teased each other long enough and it was high time to act upon everything that had been hinted at during the game. The only question at this point was where to take her.
Your kingdom. Your chambers. Your bed, grumbled his libido, for once in agreement with his inner-voice. As one being they wanted nothing more than to see her chocolate waves, tumbled across the pillows of his bed, the pale flesh of her body nestled into the silken sheets – preferably wearing nothing other than those self-same sheets and a sated smile. He had to admit that the mental picture was quite compelling, and more than a little arousing.
…As if I didn't have enough problems with that after this bloody game, he muttered to himself feeling his body respond again, muscles aching at the tempting mental image. Chastising his libido, he growled, I don't need you giving me additional ideas. At least not now, he amended.
His inner-voice however, was at least pragmatic enough to realize that Sarah would most likely not go to the castle willingly… or quietly. And since he could not take her there without her willing permission, that idea was roundly dismissed as dangerous – to himself, as he was sure she would be quite violent should he attempt to force her hand on that matter.
Carrying her cradled tightly against his chest, Jareth searched the house until he found an empty room, darting into it and locking the door behind them. Gently he placed Sarah back on her feet, his hand sliding around her waist to help support her as her knees buckled once more. Glancing down he saw that her emerald eyes had glazed over, her eyes narrowing.
"Oh Gods…the room is spinning…" eyes wide she looked up at him, a look of suspicion flashing in her eyes, "Why is everything dancing? What have you done, Jareth?"
Shaking his head, Jareth held her up, pressing her against him to reassure her that she was safe. "Nothing, Pet. No tricks tonight. Just an ordinary peach. The tequila seems to be affecting you, nothing more."
Sarah's head fell against his chest, no remnants of the cheeky boldness she had shown before they forfeited the game remaining as she slumped toward him.
"Come on, Sarah," he muttered, tipping her face upward. He frowned at the way her eyes kept fluttering shut. "Stay awake, Precious. Just a bit longer. I can't take you home without your permission."
"Sho tired," Sarah whispered, her body growing heavier in his arms. "Wanna schleep, now."
"Bloody hell," Jareth grumbled, shaking his head in frustration. This was not the end to the evening that the last round of the drinking game had promised. Without words they had promised each other all kinds of deliciously erotic things, and her passing out was definitely not part of that plan. Not tonight and preferably not ever again, he thought ruefully. Of course, the fact that it had been a drinking game should have been his first clue that things would not work out for the best.
Cringing as she drifted off again, Jareth cursed, "Damn it…those aren't the right words. Come on, Pet…don't do this to me. To us."
Nothing for it, grinned his libido looking far too happy about things. You'll just have to take her to the castle, since you can't enter her room without permission or an invitation.
Do it and you'd best go hide in your own oubliette, mate… because once she wakes up in the Underground, the Champion will hunt you down, Fae magic or not! Counseled his inner-voice and Jareth had to agree. Sarah would not just be cruel if he did that, she would likely be downright vicious and while he and his libido agreed that seeing her in such a state would be highly arousing, that was most definitely not the type of arousal he wanted to foster in her – at least not yet anyway.
Jareth shook the brunette in his arms gently, "Sarah… wake up, Precious. You have to give me permission to enter your room. Say it, Sarah. Say the words and I'll take you home."
Sarah peered blearily at him before shutting her eyes again, her voice barely loud enough to be heard, "Plesh… home."
"Close enough," he sighed, conjuring a crystal and dropping it at their feet, he clasped her tightly to him as the world swirled out of focus around them.
Arriving in her room, he tried to figure out which of the two beds belonged to Sarah. One was covered in a floral duvet that was in a snarled heap of blankets and sheets, the other neatly made with a patchwork quilt of navy velvet, adorned with brocade stars and crescent moons. He didn't have to wonder long when he heard a soft snore coming from underneath the pillows of the blue bed. Looking closely, he saw what was unmistakably a goblin ear poking out from under the pillows.
"What are you doing under my Champion's pillows," he snapped, a malicious sneer creeping over his face at the panicked squeak from the goblin sleeping on Sarah's bed. "If you don't get back to the castle this instant, you'll spend the next week doing laps in the bog!"
He watched as the goblin glanced at him, its yellow eyes wide in shock at seeing the king in 'the Lady's' bedroom. Then, with a quiet pop, he disappeared.
…The gossips in the castle will have a field-day with this, I am sure.
Yup…tomorrow's headline in the Goblin Gazette – "King Seduces Lady in Her Room: Queen to be Crowned Tomorrow, chuckled his inner-voice with a longing sigh. If only.
Jareth carefully laid Sarah on her bed, smiling as she murmured in her sleep and curled on her side, still holding on to his hand. Freeing his hand from hers, he pursed his lips.
…I suppose it wouldn't be particularly comfortable to sleep in that grass skirt, he thought.
Clothes themselves should be optional for sleeping. Gods only know you never bother with them…about the only time you don't, quipped his libido with a sly chuckle as he looked around the bed. Besides, I don't see any evidence of pajamas nearby. You don't suppose she sleeps….
…Don't even say it, he admonished, not wanting to encourage the images of Sarah's nude form that were already springing unbidden to his mind.
Be that as it may, if she wakes up wearing anything different than what she is now, she will only assume that you changed her and will likely think you did it…*ahem* manually rather than with magic, reasoned his inner-self, showing remarkable restraint considering it was as invested as his libido and himself in the idea of Sarah waking in his bed – preferably naked, and on a frequent, if not permanent basis.
…Yes…and if she would be mad waking up in the castle, she would be furious to think I had taken liberties with her in this inebriated state.
Such a pity, sighed his libido wistfully.
…Indeed.
Straightening, Jareth flicked a crystal at her sleeping form, nodding as the grass skirt ended up laying across a chair, while the hideously ugly shirt was sent to a boggy grave, never to be seen again (Thank Danu!).
Jareth bent over her, his fingers tenderly brushing a stray curl from her face before tucking her under the covers. Brushing his lips across her forehead he whispered softly, "Sleep well, my Sarah."
As he moved to leave, her hand clasped his to her cheek.
"Stay," she whispered, never opening her eyes. "Doan' wanna be 'lone."
With the quiet plea still ringing in his ears and making his heart surge fitfully in his chest, Jareth smiled to himself, his fingers caressing her cheek as she purred in her sleep.
"As you wish, Precious," he chuckled, a tender smile tinged with longing flickered in his mismatched eyes as he watched her drift closer to deep sleep.
Jareth freed his hand from hers to tug his boots off, then climbed onto the bed. With a creak of bedsprings, Jareth laid down behind her, pulling her against his body and wrapping his arms around her. He lay there listening to her breathing slow as she drifted toward sleep, smiling indulgently when she giggled in her half-asleep state.
"Wanna know a secret?" she asked, wrapping herself further into her blankets.
"Hmm?" he purred, relaxing his head upon the pillows as he flicked a crystal into the room and the lights went out.
Sarah murmured sleepily in the dark. "Last night's dream was the best yet….I swear I could feel him and smell him…" she whispered, her voice getting softer with each new admission. "Everything smelled like peaches. I wonder if he tastes like them too?"
Jareth leaned his cheek against hers to better hear her as she talked. "Who, Precious?"
"Jareth," she breathed quietly, "He sends me dreams. Bastard never lets me finish tho. So close…every night," Sarah sighed in frustration, as Jareth bit his lip hard to stifle the chuckle that threatened to escape him, while his heart beat wildly in his chest.
…She dreams about me…
Even better, mate…she thinks the dreams are your doing, when it is all her. That means she wants you, crowed his libido, strutting around like a peacock.
She'll never believe that you aren't responsible for them, countered his inner-voice.
You had to bring that up, Mr. Kill-joy? Grumbled his libido petulantly.
"Carrie…?"
…Carrie? Blast…she doesn't know who she is talking to.
No matter, she has been extremely informative in her drunken babbling, chuckled his inner-voice, while his libido nodded in a rare show of solidarity.
"Yes?" he drawled softly, moving his cheek from hers to lay against the pillows once more.
"I think I'm falling for him…hard," she said, with a sleepy yawn, completely oblivious to the look of surprise that briefly graced Jareth's face.
"I'll be glad when the package arrives tho… those damn dreams…so worked up…need relief…too tired…need to….." Sarah's words trailed off as she fell deeply asleep, leaving Jareth to smile devilishly into the velvet darkness.
She couldn't see him, only hear him breathing, his breath hot against the back of her neck. Sarah shivers realizing she is naked and Jareth is standing behind her, his gloved hands roaming over her, silent leather torment that grazes against her heated flesh.
"Mine," he growls in her ear, as his hands grip her hips possessively, pulling her back into his chest. With a gasp she realizes he is naked too, his body firm and strong against hers. Sarah whimpers as his magic seems to arc into her body, sending electric shivers racing over her skin, while a sudden jolt of lightening shoots through her, to pool in her belly, the ache gnawing at her consciousness like a dog with a meaty bone.
"Want…" she pants, as his hands trace patterns on her torso, the feeling of magic seeming to leave glowing lines where ever his fingers touch. Each touch making her nerves sing, while her body, mind and soul beg for more. She moans.
"Need…" she whimpers as he presses up against her, she can feel the steel of his desire taunting her. The empty ache inside her yearning to be filled, yet still he refuses, instead teasing her with his body. Dark. Seductive. Powerful.
"Beg," he purrs, his tone a sultry caress to her senses. This is no request. This is a demand. And she wants to obey it…with every fiber of her being, she wants to.
"Please…" she moans, writhing against him as her lips beg and her body pleads. "Take me."
A firm hand against her back, pushes her to bend. Her knees find the ground, cradled in a soft embrace of pillows, feathers everywhere. Still he bends her. Her hands burying themselves into the nest of pillows, back arching – feline lust on display. Steel hunger teases past her most sensitive flesh, closer to the molten core as she arches toward him, silently pleading with him. A gloved finger traces her spine, making her cry out the want that threatens her very soul, before the hand entwines in her hair, pulling her head back and exposing her throat. Creamy skin. So silky and vulnerable. His teeth sink into the tendon, dragging a cry from her lips. Closer the steel teases, dipping toward her…
…It is a dream…. She thinks with a sigh, realizing that her fingers have already found her sensitive flesh, slick with the unrelenting need. Sarah lets herself sink into the imagery, the feel of his body next to hers. His scent seems to linger in her nostrils, a heady combination of petrichor, ozone and the sea, clean yet rich as it saturates her senses. Her hips rock against her own fingers seeking the one thing that can end this god-awful ache that has plagued her since the dreams started. The only thing that can bring relief except for…
"…Jareth…"she gasps aloud as her fingers find their target, sliding over the tender pearl.
With a low purr, she feels her face flush at how slick she still is, knowing that some of that was from the teasing at the party. Her hands deftly manipulate the sensitive flesh, as her mind draws forth the dream.
He feels her roll further on her side, pushing back against him. If it were not for the fact that his back was against the wall, Jareth was sure she would have succeeded in pushing him off the bed entirely. Cracking an eye, he listens to her.
"Want…" she pants so softly he can barely hear her.
Jareth feels her breathing speed up, her heart racing so fast he can hear it. She shifts in her sleep. Not wanting to wake her, he removes his arms while trying to still the pounding of his own heart as it joins hers, racing as if one.
"Need…" she whimpers restlessly.
The heat rolls off her in waves. He can see the faint flush creeping up her neck as her breath hitches in her throat. Leaning up on his arm, Jareth watches her face, her lips parting as her neck arches, baring her throat. He can see her pulse dancing beneath the thin skin and it makes him ache to close his lips around it and taste her.
"Please…" she moans, writhing in her sleep now. "Take me…." She is begging and somewhere, deep inside, he knows….she is begging him.
He stifles a groan seeing her hand move, her leg sliding closer to his as she makes room, a sigh escaping her parted lips when her fingers find their goal. He knows what she is doing, despite the covers that hide her from view. Her respiration speeds up, taking his along with it, his heart beating in time to hers. The sight of her reaching for her own release, spurred on by the dream, nearly driving him mad with the desire to replace her hands with his own…or something more.
He can hardly stand it, knowing that she is dreaming of him, a dream that is driving her need, yet he knows not what it is. A quick flick of his wrist, accompanied by a brief flash of guilt and he holds the dream in his hand, his eyes drinking in the movement within the shimmering skin of the crystal.
He watches the dream Jareth, pull back on her hair, her body arching beneath him, his tongue flashing out licking her neck. …So this is what she dreams of… there is much more to her dreams than I expected… The dream Sarah pushes back, matching force for force, her eyes shut, yet her face stunningly enticing as she begs for release.
The real Sarah whimpers, "Jareth….Please…." her head rolling side-to-side upon the pillow as her fingers pinch the tender bud. "Close…so damn close…you…bastard," she mutters, a heated entreaty to both herself and the dream Jareth.
Jareth bites back a chuckle, as a wicked smirk teases his lips. …If she thinks the dream me is a bastard about these things… he muses, abandoning the thought as the real Sarah squirms more earnestly. She holds her breath, pale cheeks flushed as she pushes for the crest, forcing her body toward the peak she so desperately wants.
He knows she is close by the irregular gasps and pants that accompany the now frantic manipulation of her hands, visible only as subtle movements under the comforter. The sound of her pleading with the dream Jareth, makes his body react, a reaction he holds firmly in check, unable to give in to the base desires that course like lava through his veins. For all our sakes, end her torment, snaps his inner-self, unable to bear the sight of Sarah's struggle any longer.
"Yes, Precious. Now," Jareth whispers in her ear, an answer to her plea. The dark and demanding response spurs her on as she abandons herself to the surge of power held in her release. His eyes glow heatedly while he watches her face, the dream crystal vanishes, forgotten and unneeded.
Hearing the voice that haunts her dreams, Sarah lets go, surrendering to the sensation as it roars through her. Her back arches, lifting her chest from the bed, a keening cry bursting from her throat, as her insides erupt, one word flowing repeatedly from her lips is a gasping cry.
"Jareth!"
Shuddering against the bed, Sarah whimpers, her breath coming in short bursts. As the feeling subsides, she curls back into a ball, relishing the peaceful warmth that engulfs her body after days of endless need.
"Show me how you do that trick / The one that makes me scream" she said
"The one that makes me laugh" she said /And threw her arms around my neck
"Show me how you do it /And I promise you I promise that
I'll run away with you /I'll run away with you"
Spinning on that dizzy edge / I kissed her face and kissed her head
And dreamed of all the different ways I had / To make her glow
"Why are you so far away?" she said / "Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you / That I'm in love with you"
"Fucking Hell!" Sarah yelped, her body jerking against the bed in reaction to the loud music that suddenly blared from the alarm clock.
Leaning over the edge of the bed, her eyes still shut against the obnoxious sun that peeks through the heavy curtains, Sarah picked up the boot and launched it toward the dresser, falling back onto the bed with a growl at the sound of the clock falling from the dresser with a plastic 'crunch'.
Muttering acidly, Sarah pulls the covers back around her ears, "At least I finally got to finish things a bit…damn Jareth and his bloody sex dreams… turning into a fucking nightmare." Thumping her pillow viciously, she snuggles down, pressing her back against the solid wall behind her. "Hope the package arrives soon. Fuck! I hope Carrie is right and it works better than taking things into my own hands…cuz they aren't cutting it anymore. Fucking Jareth, screwing with my dreams. If he wants to screw with something I'll give him something to…."
And then she stopped, her eyes snapping wide in panic as she looked across the room toward Carrie's bed.
"Hang on. I didn't wear boots last night."
"No," came the silky reply from behind her, the clipped accent making her stomach simultaneously flip and drop – a rather remarkable feat of contortionist flexibility. "The boots belong to me, Precious"
…Oh holy crap! Sarah moaned, shuddering with trepidation.
"Jareth is not here. The Goblin King is most definitely not in my bed. This is just a left over part of the latest dream he sent me," Sarah muttered, willing herself to believe it as she reached her hand up over her shoulder, creeping forward until it touched…a face. A face with a tempting mouth, that quickly sucked her fingers into the heated, wet depths, eliciting a low moan from Sarah and an excited yelp from her libido who had finally found its voice again.
"Oh. Fuck. Me," she whimperedpulling the covers over her head and scrunching down into the bed.
Yes, please! Squealed her libido, doing an impromptu striptease as it raced merrily around like a lunatic.
Pulling the covers over your head only works on monsters under the bed. I highly doubt it works on Goblin Kings in your bed, snarked her inner-voice, while her libido fizzled into an arousal drenched pile of goo thinking all of its Christmases had come at once, upon realizing the Goblin King was there….in her bed.
"Hmmm….are you quite sure, given our current positions, that you want to make that offer, Pet?" he drawled, a dark chuckle vibrating in his chest, making her belly quiver needfully. "After your rather impressive display earlier and your wanton display last night, I am more than inclined to give you what you ask."
"That is not now, nor ever, an offer… Jareth," Sarah ground out. "It is an expression of frustration, dismay and possibly anger. Not an invitation for you to maul me or…or… or… gah!"
Laughing, Jareth leaned close to her, "Believe me, Precious…mauling you is the furthest thing from my mind. I have much more mutually enjoyable entertainments in mind."
Sarah shrunk down further in the bed, attempting to pull her blanketed body away from Jareth's and failing as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her close once more.
"Oh no, Pet. There is no escaping me now. I rather like the feel of you in my arms," he chuckled quietly, lips pressing close to her ear. "Besides, there is still the matter of our truce. You agreed to fulfill one of my fantasies, just as I shall fulfill one of yours."
…fulfill a fantasy? Oh shit, she thought in shock, before ranting angrily to herself. Bloody, sneaky, Fae bastard and his fucking loopholes.
Launching herself upright in the bed, Sarah clutched the blanket to her chest, suddenly aware that she was still only wearing her bikini. "Fulfill?" she asked, her voice rising shrilly, as her head began to pound viciously.
With a moan, Sarah fell back onto the pillows her hands against her forehead.
"Owww… I'm in too much pain to think about that now," she groaned. "I will never do shots again…body or otherwise."
"Hmm…yes, I think that would be wise, Dearest. You nearly passed out before giving me leave to bring you home. Had you not done so in time, I would have had no choice but to take you back to my castle until you awoke."
Sarah curled into a ball once more, holding her head as she answered, her voice pained, "Guess I was lucky then, but soooo not feeling it now."
Rising slowly, Sarah let the blanket fall back to the bed, her eyes cracking painfully as she looked at him. Shaking her head gingerly, she whimpered before speaking, "I can't think about or discuss your latest trick…."
"No trick, Sarah," he retorted with a smug grin shining in his mismatched eyes as he reclined fully on her bed, tucking his arms behind his head. "You asked the terms. I gave them to you. It is hardly my fault that in your lust-addled state you failed to seek clarification,"
Sarah grumbled. "As I was saying…we will deal with your latest trick after I have had a shower, some painkillers and a hang-over breakfast. You," she said, pointing at Jareth, "Stay put, stay quiet and don't mess with anything. We aren't supposed to have men in our rooms. I'm going for a shower and then you're taking me to breakfast."
Hmm… best to remember she is not a morning person, muttered Jareth's inner-voice as Sarah slammed the bathroom door behind her.
…True…. He thought with a self-satisfied grin, leaning back against the pillows. This wasn't quite the way he had planned to wake up with her today, but it was a start.
Next time will be better, grinned his libido, returning to visions of Sarah's pale flesh laid upon his silken sheets.
…I can only hope.
NOTE: The song in this chapter is "Just Like Heaven" by The Cure.