Author’s Notes: This chapter is very rated R; if you are under 17 you shouldn’t be reading this.  You have been warned.

The others in the palace had long since disappeared. The music stopped.  They were alone.

Before he could react to this new, masterful Sarah that stood above him, she turned so her back was facing him. She shot him a smoldering look over one pale shoulder, and reached up with her delicate hands to smooth her long curls aside, baring her smooth ribcage, the small of her back. Her halter-top was fastened with a single button at her shoulder blades, and as he watched in amazement, she dexterously unbuttoned it and slipped the silk down her arms.

She stretched her arms over her head, back arched and rocking her hips, deliberately provocative. Sarah swayed to silent music, spinning on her toes to face him again, smile wide like a Cheshire cat. Her long black hair hung over her bare breasts, the curls grazing against her aroused nipples as she lazily swung her lower body side to side.  He swallowed and remembered to breathe.

"I didn't know you were such a graceful dancer," he said huskily.

She bent over him, her hair dangling down in an ebony curtain that allowed a brief glimpse of a rosy pink nipple. She picked up her fallen veil and with a flick of her wrist, dragged it down the length of his body, the scrape of the light fabric exciting him visibly. Their need, their desire was right, it was destiny. She was a fool to have denied him, denied herself for so long…

"You forget I've had three years of nightly lessons. I know a good teacher." She drew the veil up her stomach, arching her back again as it slid between her bare breasts, and over her head.

"Only good?" His confidence was returning; it looked like his patience had not been wasted after all. He reached out and grasped a floating corner of the skirt and pulled it toward him. To his delight, the thin layer of fabric came off in his hands easily. That one eyebrow arched. A merciless smile curled over Sarah's lips.

"Hold on." She began to spin, arms high in the air, wrists snaking back and forth, a volley of bells ringing out. As she spun, the chiffon panels of the skirt began to unhitch from the thick brocade waistband one by one. With each turn, the outline of her calves, her knees, her thighs became more and more visible. The whirlwind stopped, and he tossed aside the bundle of fabric carelessly. All she was wearing now was her exotic jewelry, and one layer of sheer red rose silk that was attached to the waistband of her disassembled skirt. He reached out again, and this time caught the edge of her veil.

Her head snapped up and her emerald eyes darkened. She allowed herself to be drawn closer to his throne of satin cushions and his hard arousal. Unwilling to be rushed now that she was in charge; she slowly lowered herself to kneel in front of him, her legs parted brazenly.

"Sarah-" he began, but she pressed a finger to her lips and shook her head.

"It’s past the time for talking, don't you think?" She bit her lower lip and looked at him through lowered eyelids. Her entire being was drawn towards him like a magnet; always had been.

"Now you," she said, tugging on the hem of his sumptuous robes. He grinned, elated and aroused, before rising to his knees as well. He slipped the robe off his shoulders, and untied the thick sash at his waist, tossing both articles aside. In one motion, he slipped the tunic over his head, and it joined the growing pile of clothing on the floor.

They faced each other, half naked, kneeling less than two feet apart. Inner fires were reflected in both sets of eyes. Unable to resist one moment longer, Sarah crouched on all fours, ringlets of black hair brushing the pillows, baring her breasts to his gaze. She closed the distance between them, touching her lips lightly to the sensitive flesh below his navel and running her open mouth up his chest, savoring the shuddering breath he let out at her contact. She dragged her tongue along his collarbone, tasting the salt and sweetness that was the Goblin King.

At the wet, gritty feel of her tongue on his skin, he cupped her bottom tightly and brought her fully against him. One more moment without the feel of her flesh against his would be unbearable. She wound her arms under his, her hands skimming over his smooth back, and looked up into his face.

“I’ve wanted to do this from the moment I met you,” she admitted, desire welling up inside until she thought it would spill out her eyes, her mouth.

He raised his hands and slowly brushed the long locks away from her chest, back over her shoulders. He softly ran a finger around her breast in smaller and smaller circles until he touched the erect center, and relished her intake of breath.

“I know just what you mean.” He cupped her breasts, her nipples little points of fire against his palms, and bent to capture her mouth under his. She opened to him, his tongue sliding between her lips to dance with hers. She moaned into his mouth, tasting spice and magic in his kiss. Her lower lip between his teeth, he bit her lightly and then licked the spot to soothe the pain. One long kiss blended into a string of tiny kisses, small licks along her jaw, down her throat to the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder met. He bit her gently there, and she stiffened in his arms, a groan tumbling out from her lips. She felt him smile against her neck.

“I think we’ve found your special spot…”

She pushed back from his chest, dark eyes playful.  “I think I can find your special spot.”  Before he could protest, she pushed him down on the pillows, straddling his waist. Bending over him, she touched her lips to his neck…bit his shoulder…licked one of his nipples before moving lower and lower. She pressed a chaste kiss against his belly, moving down his stomach even farther until he tensed.

“A-ha…” she murmured, and ran her tongue along his hipbone towards his hardness. Before he could say anything, she pressed her open mouth against him through his pants. He groaned harshly, and dragged her upwards, claiming her mouth again.

“Not too fast, darling,” he warned.

“Not too slow, either…we’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

“Yes we have,” he agreed, and laid her down beneath him on the pillows. His hands moved over the remnants of her skirt, unbuttoning the silk and casting it aside. He sat back on his haunches as her sex was revealed. Naked, she was glorious.

She watched his expression with a smoky gaze. “Do you see anything wrong?”

“Oh no,” he contradicted and reached for a peacock feather that had fallen on the ground, “everything is perfect.”

With that, he ran the feather up her body, starting at her knees and working her way up one thigh, her stomach, the side of her breast. He studied her body, committing every detail to memory. This was the Sarah he had always known was within, this desirable, wanton creature who reveled in their passion.  He ran the feather along the inside of her thigh, relishing the way her hips thrust forward at its touch.

 She whimpered as the feather ran over her most sensitive place, begging him for something she couldn’t put words to. The friction, the wetness, his scent, his skin, their pleasure…it built and built until she stilled her bucking hips, feeling as if she was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to plummet…

He touched her there, and she exploded.

Sarah screamed aloud, her pleasure bursting through her body like a wave crashing against the shore. He stayed joined with her, his body tightening as he watched her experience her first orgasm. As she relaxed, her eyes closed, sweat beading on her brow, he turned to divest himself of his remaining garment. She laid there, blissful smile on her face, savoring the pleasure that still hummed in her veins. Everything she had ever heard or learned was mere child’s play to the real thing…

She opened her eyes when she felt him above her. He was staring at her, his long blond hair falling over his shoulders to brush teasingly against her breasts. The intensity in his gaze overwhelmed her; he was looking at her as though she were his life. Tears filled her eyes.

“I never knew,” she choked, reaching up a hand to cup his cheek.

“I know.” Smiling again, he thrust his hips forward slightly, poised and ready.

She gasped, and answered his thrust. Timed perfectly, he slipped inside her. Her eyes widened at the invasion, moaning as he stretched her virgin tightness. She looked down the length of their bodies to where they were joined, and then back up into his eyes.

“This is going to hurt for a few seconds.”

She shook her head, her hands clutching his muscled forearms tightly. “Nothing you could do would ever hurt me, Jareth.”

He sighed deeply, a sorrowful sound. Her eyebrows knit together in question.

“This might be the first time I have heard you say my name, Sarah.” He pushed a little deeper, meeting her natural barrier.

Sarah drew in a breath and twisted her hips, wanting to be filled, the fire that had subsided when she climaxed building again to a raging inferno.

“Jareth please!” she cried.

He dipped his head and placed a kiss on one pink nipple. “As you wish.”

Sarah jerked awake in bed as her alarm screamed shrilly in her ear. Her heart was pounding, her sheets twisted around her body and drenched in sweat, as if she had run a marathon in her sleep.

She bit back a sob, her heart racing and disoriented; she had no clue where she was. For a few seconds her soft bed had felt like silk pillows…

She lay back, gasping. She looked down and realized that underneath the sheets, she was naked. She pushed the covers back, her hands running over her breasts, over her stomach as if checking to make sure she was herself. As she passed over her thighs, her skin was damp, and sensitive to her touch.

What the hell?

She lay in the dark, waiting for her heart to calm down. Her body was on fire, every inch of her skin tingling, waiting for something. The last thing she could remember was dancing in the club… Who took her home?

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, needing a glass of water, needing to move. Wrapping a sheet around her nakedness, she shook her head, trying to clear it. Her foot stepped on something soft. She bent down, feeling for the object.

She picked it up; it was light as air. Padding to the light switch, she turned it on, and gasped.

She had picked up a peacock feather.

Sarah suddenly remembered everything.

She fainted.