AN: Should have updated Tanglewood. Instead I did... this... pure filthy smut. I make no excuses for what you read here. I debated about tagging this dubcon to be safe, but decided not. It's consensual.
But yah... dirty stuff abounds. You've been duly warned. Fanfiction-al (idealized) sex lies ahead.
I'm breaking this into two chapters because I set out to write about 1,800 words of smut and instead wrote 4000 words of smut. The OCD in me wanted the chapters to be roughly the same length. Plus good things comes in threes. *ba dum tiss* Next chapter to follow...
The Incident with the Feathers…
Sarah tensed against her bonds. The silvery white cords, though incredibly soft, were unyielding. Made of real magic. In the way the pink tape could never hope to be.
Looking at them closer she realized they were woven from owl feathers.
Yah... she probably deserved that.
She strained against them nonetheless. It wasn't in human nature to just give up. And she might have been spurred on by the sound of the crop which had resumed its measured staccato against a firm thigh. Her arms were crooked above her head - only her fingers were mobile.
The sash of her robe had at some point fallen over, the magic bindings barely keeping her covered.
She directed a mulish look at the Goblin King. "Let me go."
He contemplated her, one hand propped against his chin. "Come, come, Sarah. I'd imagine even the owl had more fight than that in him."
"The owl wasn't in danger of being groped."
Jareth feigned concern. "We can't really know that can we? Who knows what I interrupted when I did." Sarah pulled a face. "And really, more conceit, Precious? First I was spying on you bathing, now I've nothing better to do than ravish you?"
Sarah's brow furrowed. "You're not?" She wasn't sure if she sounded relieved or hopeful.
He flashed her a devilish smile. The kind that would have melted underwear off if she'd been wearing any. "Of course I am, Sarah. But groping implies you're not going to enjoy it."
She struggled in earnest then, not because he was wrong but because she was more than a little worried he might be right and she certainly didn't want to afford him the smug satisfaction. She was already at enough of a disadvantage.
"I'm engaged." She curled her hand into a fist. Not quite a lie. Not quite the truth. That grey between in which they always seemed to co-exist. The ring was gone but the tan line remained.
His wolfish grin only deepened. "Not anymore you aren't."
He was right of course, that relationship had ended, but he shouldn't have known that. "Would that have even stopped you?"
"Not in the least."
Sarah squirmed again, imagining that the bindings might be loosening a little. It worked in the movies, right? Keep him talking, Sarah. "And what would stop you, Goblin King?"
He was close enough his breath fanned her face when he spoke. "You telling me no and meaning it. And do call me, Jareth. We are old friends, after all."
"We are not old friends, Jareth."
She could feel his body heat radiating through the silk. Close enough she could feel the amusement case his tone. "You're right of course," he demurred. "If we were friends I might have had to let you go." He traced the cord that crossed her chest, not quit touching her, before catching her eyes. "But I'm under no such obligation with enemies."
She swallowed thickly. "And do you tie up all your enemies like this?"
"Only the very pretty ones. Only the ones who so kindly deliver themselves to me. Gift wrapped no less."
"Let. Me. Go."
His eyes flashed in challenge. "Beg me."
Sarah chewed her lip, trying to discern if he was lying or not. "I won't give you satisfaction."
He trailed the leather crop up her bare thigh. "They all say that at first. Even Ogre King mewled like a baby after ten minutes."
Sarah jerked, her expression twisting. Jareth bit back a laugh. "I did say only the pretty ones." His expression turned serious again. "Beg me, Sarah, and maybe I'll be merciful."
"Please," she said through gritted teeth.
He leaned forward and playfully nipped an ear. "You'll have to try harder than that." His tongue dipped out to soothe the sting, and then his parted lips were against her neck. He sucked against her pulse, as though tasting her excitement and fear. His teeth worried the sensitive skin enough to make her quiver against the bindings. She was suddenly almost thankful they kept her upright. He teased along her jaw line, coming close but never quite reaching her mouth until she wanted him to do exactly that.
He pulled back with a lazy smile, delighted when her eyed dropped to his mouth. "You want me to kiss you, don't you, Sarah." He brushed a gloved thumb against her lower lip. "Just here. Tell me you don't and mean it and I will be generous."
"Generous," she echoed.
He brushed over it again. "Tell me you don't and mean it," he challenged.
She kissed him instead.
She told herself it was to shut him up. To take back the upper hand. It was both those things of course, and more. She simply wanted to as well. He could do a million things, but she would have the satisfaction of tasting him first.
His lips, though thin, were firm and soft, and whatever surprise he'd felt was quickly replaced by opportunity.
He'd lied of course, he'd never had any intention of being merciful – the concept was alien to him. It hardly mattered now. She traced the seam of his mouth with her tongue, until he parted it obligingly. She paid him back with just the right amount of teeth.
Jareth tasted like the brightness of the champagne and the hint of something undefinable - magic. He was every bit male, but more.
Not content to remain passive any longer, he pushed back against the kiss hungrily, his hand rising to cup her jaw almost reverently as he devoured her mouth in turn. Sarah could feel him hard and ready against her thigh.
She pulled back breathlessly. "Let me go and I will be generous." She could lie too.
"Tempting," he replied unevenly. His voice was rough and raw in a way that worked its way right to her core. "But forgive me for not wanting to let this go to waste." He brushed the crop up her thigh, until it dipped beneath the silk of her robe and teased even higher. "Are you sure you don't want to beg me, Sarah. I ask for so little."
"Are you sure you don't?" she countered, her own voice hitching just a little.
"Very well. I'll only enjoy it more when you do." He mouth dropped back to her neck, but this time instead of working up he trailed down. Down the column of her throat and along her collarbone, dipping into the hollow of her throat to taste the salt that pooled there. His hands deftly skimmed the edges of her robe, tugging the silk away beneath the bonds.
Sarah chewed her lip again. "You have me at disadvantage."
Jareth chuckled against her breast bone. "In the most satisfying way, I assure you." He paused and looked up. "It's not fair, is it?" He didn't sound in the least apologetic, but with a smirk he tugged his linen shirt free and dropped it on the floor. "I told you I could be generous."
Sarah's eyes trailed over the pale expanse of his square shoulders and lithe chest, dropping down to his narrow waist. His pants sat low on his hips, so that she could see the hollow of his hips – a trail of silvery hair pointing to the straining fabric below. She had little more than time to swallow dryly before his mouth closed hotly over a nipple through her thin robe. He sucked sharply and her head clipped back against the stone wall. He worked the silk against her skin, his hand palming and rolling the other aching breast. Not content with the barrier, he pulled back enough to try and tug her free from the robe. The cords proved a nuisance and a moment later she heard the distinct sound of silk rending. The chill of the throne room teased her chest.
His lips twitched at her shock. "I'll replace it was something comparable."
He cupped them both, his thumbs rolling over the furled skin and slanted his mouth over hers hungrily. She kissed him back just as deeply, gasping when he bent again to use that mouth on her breasts. He worried the sensitive nipple between his teeth, eliciting a sharp hiss of pleasure. His fingers rolled and twisted the other tip until Sarah could feel the slickness pool between her thighs. His hand left her breast for a moment and slid back up her chest and neck until he pressed a thumb between her parted lips. She sucked the tip and then bit down gently, catching the leather. He pulled back, using her mouth to tug his glove free. He repeated the action with the other hand until both hands were bare. He brushed a thumb against her mouth, kissing her almost gently in reverence.
He pressed against her fully, letting her feel how hard he was – how much he was affected too. His bare hands smoothed up her bent arms – his finger tips like electricity - until they threaded with hers. He stilled for a moment, savouring the skin to skin contact. It was somehow more erotic than anything he'd done so far.
"I wonder if you know how long I have wanted to touch you like this." He nosed against her neck, tracing the shell of her ear. "Finally free of constraints." He pulled back enough to wink. "Well… me free of constraints. I can't say I regret these." His eyes roved down. "You have magnificent breasts, Sarah. You're like a beautiful piece of art nailed to my wall." His hands retraced their path until he palmed both, thumbs teasing her nipples again. "Are you ready to beg, yet?"
"Not a chance," she croaked.
He mouth resumed his onslaught, nipping and tugging until she was sure her entire chest was mottled with his marks. His hands smoothed down her ribs, his thumbs dipping into the hollow of her waist and then flaring along her hips, brushing the remnants of robes aside, until she was completely bare save for the bonds. She felt the leather of the crop reappear against her thigh. It slid inexorably upwards until it crested against her slick folds. Sarah jerked at the contact.
"How about now?"
Sarah shook her head mutely. Half defiance, half inability to speak. The head of the crop slid again against her quim, parting her ever so slightly. The soft leather butted slickly against her clit. She gasped, the sound swallowed by another kiss, as though he wanted to taste her pleasure as much as hear it. She was no novice to toys, but this was so much more wicked than anything she'd tried before. He repeated the motion, watching her face to see just how to touch her. When the head of the crop slipped inside an inch, she chafed against her bonds, her hands fisting helplessly. He cock was still pressed insistently against her thigh, but he continued the slow teasing torture with the crop until she was quivering, her breaths hitching in broken pants. He withdrew the crop and brought it his mouth. He licked the leather in a long smooth move, tasting her.
"Fuck me," Sarah whispered in shock at the erotic display.
Jareth's eyes flashed darkly. "Then beg me, Sarah."
She shook her head again, despite the wet ache between her thighs. "Never."
His lips curled at her defiance. This was a different kind of chase. No running through the Labyrinth but still a predator in pursuit of prey – even if it was already snared. He knew the game well. So, he thought with satisfaction, did she it seemed.
"Lying only makes me want you more, Sarah. We both know you want to be caught." He licked his lips. "Devoured even."