Till the Night Closes In
Jareth x Sarah
Summary- Sarah is captured by the Goblin King and found guilty of treason. Can she withstand the punishments he has in store for her or will she give in? And as ever, things are not always what they seem...
Warnings- dark! Jareth (or is he?), non-con/dub-con (or is it?) pwp, explicit (like all the lemons, folks) . If these things aren’t your cup of tea, don’t read it.
Word Count- 4.1k
Sarah’s knees collided with smoothed stone, her hands catching her upper body preventing her face from slamming into the floor as well.
Holy hell. She looked around, blinking as the room came into focus. Bits of straw and debris littered the limestone. Grotesque faces peered out through dented armor. Raucous laughter infiltrated the din that surrounded her.
“Quiet!” a deep voice reverberated, filling the space around her. Silence followed immediately.
Her eyes raised, following the stairs in front of her. There seated upon his throne, gloved hands gripping the curving arms, was The Goblin King sneering down at her. His dark armor glinted in the sunlight pouring through the window. She tried to catch her breath. Handsome and formidable, as ever he was in her dreams, the predatory look he cast upon her did not bode well for her.
The tip of his well-shined boot lifted her chin. “Well, well now. What do we have here?” he asked. “The champion of the labyrinth. At last.” He raised his hand and gestured to the rabble-rousing goblins attending him. “Leave us.”
Dozens of shuffling footsteps stampeded behind her. She dare not take her eyes off of the monarch in front of her. She was transfixed by his gaze, any sudden movement and he could strike.
“Do you know why you are here?” he asked.
“No. One minute I was in my world. The next I was here. I’ll happily leave if you could just send me back.” She added hastily, “Please. I’m sorry to cause--”
“A simple ‘no’ would suffice. You have been accused of treason. The same acts of treason your friends have been found guilty of--”
“No! That was years ago. They were only trying to help me.” Her stomach sank as she tried to comprehend the words he had just spoken.
“And in doing so, acted against their king.” He stood before continuing, “You have committed crimes against the Goblin Kingdom. Destruction of property, to say the least, conspiring against the crown, and treason.”
“I did no such things.”
“The bridge?” His boots clicked against the stone as he circled her, his cape scraping the ground as it trailed behind him.
“Was old and dilapidated,” she shrugged, trying to sound calm.
Her head shifted to the side following his movement. “Was that even real?”
“Most of the damage probably came from your own inept soldiers.” She closed her eyes, his path around her making her dizzy.
“My castle?” He stopped in front of her once more.
“Is still standing.” Sarah sat back on her heels, her eyes meeting his. “It seems, Your Majesty, the only thing broken here is your pride.”
Jareth snarled. “What of the gathering you held in your dwelling?”
“It was a party.” She placed her hands on her hips and huffed. This was ridiculous. “We were just celebrating my victory.”
His arms crossed against his chest which seemed to inflate with confidence. “So you admit, you were trying to defeat me? Conspiring against me?”
Sarah shook her head, her long dark hair rippling down her back. “I was trying to win my brother back. There was no conspiring.”
“Did you not blackmail the dwarf into helping you? Free a prisoner from a just and lawful punishment by my own guards, and lure a knight from his post with hopes of a grand quest?”
“Blackmail. Just and lawful? Are you kidding--”
“Answer the question. Yes or no.” He knelt, gripping her chin with his hand, the buttery soft leather antithetical to the strong fingers within. ”Do not lie to me, Sarah.”
As much as she tried to form the word ‘no’, to deny those things he had said, all she could manage was a weak, “Yes.” She had done all of those things. Not with the intentions he had surmised, but there was no denying the acts themselves.
“You are found guilty of treason. You are to be punished as the crown sees fit until you renounce your compatriots and your evil deeds.”
Raising her chin in determination, she shouted, “No. I’m not even your citizen! You have no right to accuse me or pass judgment. I demand to be sent home.”
His eyes gleamed with a vicious spark of amusement. “You are the champion of the labyrinth. My labyrinth. That title means you are a citizen of this world as well as mine to deal with as I see fit. Forfeiting that title means forfeiting your victory which means…”
“Toby...no! You can’t do that!” Not Toby. She couldn’t live with herself. Her family was safe as long as she remained champion. God her family. What were they thinking right now? Were they worried? How long until they called the police?
Jareth stood, taking a step back to survey his quarry brought so low. “I assure you I can.”
“You have no power--”
Jareth snapped his fingers and her mouth no longer obeyed her. Her voice lost as she tried so desperately to form the rest of the words. A dark laugh vibrated in his throat. “I think you’ll see that I do. Now stand.”
Chills swept through her body as it obeyed his command against her wishes. Every time she tried to fight against his magic, her body was wracked with shooting pains through her limbs.
Sarah rose to her feet. Her eyes level with the jagged layers of metal of his breastplate, his emblem inlaid across his sternum.
“Really, Sarah. There’s no need to fight it,” he drawled. “You’ll only cause yourself unnecessary pain.” He turned to climb the stairs once more.
Sarah glared at the despot. The satisfaction in his face made her cheeks heat with impotent rage, knowing there was nothing she could do. How could she compete with magic? There had to be something. Someway to get out of this. Would she be tortured? Flogged? Locked away in a dungeon? Dipped into the bog? Her mind reeled with the possibilities that Jareth could impose upon her. Each one a nightmare.
“Strip.” The word short, clipped. His voice void of emotion.
“What? No!” she protested. Of all the punishments she had thought of being naked had not been a part of the process.
“Do it or I shall make you. It’s your choice.” He sat down, his leg casually draped over the arm on his throne assuming a bored posture.
Sarah’s eyes darted to windows and doors. There wasn’t any way she could make it those distances without being caught and adding to her current predicament. “That’s not much of a choice.” Could she stall him? Give herself some time to think.
“Ungrateful, chit. Generosity is still lost on you, I see.” His leather-clad fingers snapped once more.
Her hands immediately lifted to her buttons nimbly plucking at the small circles. “Stop!” she yelled. “I--I’ll do it myself.”
His thin lips stretched into a wicked grin revealing the sharp point of his fangs. Though he leaned casually, his elbow propped on the throne, his head leaning against his fist, the muscles in his body tensed as he watched her slowly remove her shirt and pants. Standing before him in nothing but undergarments, she lifted her chin defiantly, trying desperately to mask her humiliation even though it painted her cheeks a deep rose.
“All of it.”
Her mouth opened but she bit back her retort knowing it would create only more problems for her. She was at his mercy. The mercy of a fae king was mercurial at best.
Reaching behind her, she unhooked her bra slipping the straps off her shoulders. She was grateful her hair fell forward shielding her slightly as bent forward to step out of her panties. Her stomach twisted as she was bared before him trying not to think of what would come next.
A chaise lounge appeared behind Sarah where once a pit had been. Its upholstered curves were plush and decadent. On any other day, she would have loved to drape herself across its length, reading or daydreaming her life away. The deep red of the fabric and carved nude figures twisting around each other on the legs let her know this would not be for relaxing.
“By all means, sit.” He gestured to the seat.
Slowly, she approached the red lounge and demurely sat on the edge, her back straight and legs pressed together, eyes to the floor. Her breathing was shallow as she waited for him to seize his opportunity to pounce.
Jareth remained unmoved. His voice and demeanor dripping with forced ennui as he commanded, “Touch yourself.”
Sarah’s gaze snapped up. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You know very well what I said.” His voice was tinged with irritation.
She froze, her insides turning as cool as the skin that was exposed to the breeze from the open air. Could he really mean for her to pleasure herself? In front of him?
“Sarah, this is the last warning. When I give you a command, I expect to be obeyed.”
She leaned back, turning her body to lay against the one curved end of the chair. The angle of her recline made it impossible for her to do anything but arch her back, her breasts pushed high, nipples pebbling at being so prominently displayed. Closing her eyes, she trailed her hands up her thighs, over the smooth plane of her abdomen, and cupped the soft weights in her palms.
Taking a deep breath, she focused on the feel of her fingertips. The silence in the room made it possible to pretend she was somewhere else, anywhere else. Her hands were those of a lover. She tried to conjure up the image of man, muscled and strong, dark hair curling over his forehead, strong hands. A hero worthy of every trashy romance cover she could get her hands on as a teen. But before the picture could solidify, it morphed whether, of her own deep dark desires or his, she couldn’t tell. Wisps of fair hair, lean limbs, and long fingers replaced those of her hero. It seemed she wouldn’t escape her villain, even in her mind.
Her thighs pressed together, the pressure building even as she tried to ignore the heat spreading through her body. Sarah's fingers paused as they reached the apex of her legs. Could she really do this? Did she actually want to? As much as she realized she should be terrified of the man watching her, the fact that he couldn’t take his eyes off of her, that his punishment for her could possibly be punishing him too, was enough to bolster her confidence out of spite if nothing else.
“Open your legs.” His disinterested affectation barely masking his eagerness.
Yes, though she was at his mercy, she still had certain powers.
Her legs fell to the sides, fingers dipping in between her lips to find them sleek and swollen. Her fingers slipped between the slick folds, stroking them gently, teasing her entrance with just the slightest nudge before sliding her fingers effortlessly to her knuckles.
Biting her lip, she circled the sensitive bud with her other hand enjoying the curve of her fingers inside her and the friction on her clit. Her hips bucked against her hand. Heat gave way to a fine mist of perspiration across her body. She could feel the familiar tightness coiling low in her abdomen, promising release. Nothing mattered more in that moment than chasing that high. The tension built to a blistering peak, as the first waves crested, ready to spill through her body, her ear shook with the command that echoed around her.
“Stop!” Jareth was standing above her. His cheeks flushed. Eyes dilated, matching for the first time in her memory.
Aching need pulsed through her body, but Sarah’s fingers remained stilled. Her heart hammered, lungs struggling to take more than a few panting breaths. Her body acutely aware of the pleasure that had been snatched from her.
”On your knees.” He pointed to the floor then perched his hands on his lithe hips, staring down his nose at her imperiously. His armor was gone, but his high-necked cape still surrounded his dark-clothed body.
A pillow appeared before him. Generous indeed. He’d finally have her on her knees but she’d be damned if she would beg. She glared up at him as his hands undid the row of buttons on his breeches that strained against his erection until it was freed from the restrictive cloth.
He ran his thumb over her bottom lip with one hand as he pumped his cock with the other. “Open.”
Her lips parted, but she made no other movement.
He stepped closer, holding the tip to her lips. “Suck.”
Licking her lips, she wrapped her mouth around the head wetting it with her tongue. She felt him sway slightly as she worked her way down his length, little by little, inch by velvety inch until he was firmly hitting the back of her throat and her nose pressed against his abdomen. Why was she being so enthusiastic? She should be doing the bare minimum, not actively taking him as far as she could.
He groaned above her, his hand fisting her hair. His responses affected her more than she wanted to admit. She should be disgusted. Should be repulsed but she would be lying if she said she had never dreamt about this. Or wondered a million impossible what-ifs.
“Touch yourself,” he moaned.
Sarah’s knees fell open, one hand grasped his length, pumping his shaft. She reached down with the other, feeling the evidence of her arousal as her fingers rubbed her pussy. Had she ever been so wanton or brazen? The word hussy came to mind. She tried to placate herself that it was all out of her control. She might as well try to get something out of her predicament too. But a small quiet voice reminded her that a decent woman, a sane woman, would try to resist. Would martyr herself on the cross of her own convictions, but here she was actively seeking her own enjoyment. Traitorous body. The danger and hormones were a seductive drug. She just wanted that high that had already been denied to her once.
The sounds of their moans and slick movements echoed in the cavernous room. Her pleasure started to rise once more. Building, creeping towards that precipice she desired. She wanted to fall over. To feel her body wracked with physical ecstasy. She could deal with the aftermath later.
Her hands kept moving, mouth kept sucking, her tongue twirling around the head as her hand pumped. Her nimble fingers between her thighs hitting just the right spot. She was so close. Just a little more.
The air around her changed. Warmth and sunlight replaced with cool damp darkness. Her hands were extended above her, metal encircled her wrists, chains clanking as she tried to pull free. Her toes scraped the cold floor.
Torches on the wall lit. She was in an oubliette. The craggy walls were draped in cobwebs, crystals embedded in the rocks glittered in the flickering firelight.
Heavy footsteps sounded behind Sarah. His graveled voice whispered in her ear. “Still defying me.” He moved in front of her, his body brushing past her.
Gone was the cape and dark attire. He wore a white shirt open to his navel, loosely tucked into his grey pants, his pendant hanging below his chest. He tapped a riding crop into his gloved hand. “You never learn.”
He ran the crop down her neck, over the slope of her breasts, the cool leather flicking her nipple, over the curve of her abdomen, dipping into her navel, lower ever lower. With lightning speed, it raised, coming down on her pussy.
She arched, pulling against her shackles. Her head flew back, her moan reverberating off the ceiling. The sound of herself filling her with shame.
“Sarah, Sarah, Sarah,” he taunted. “You’re enjoying this aren't you?”
Forcing herself to look at him, she cut her eyes, hoping they pierced through his narcissistic facade “No.”
The crop came down again with a resounding smack. Her mouth fell open as she cried out louder than before. He ran his gloved hand through her slit, spreading her lips. She forced herself not to rock against him.
Holding up his glistening fingers, he showed her the evidence of her lies. “Look at the mess you’ve made.” He held his hand to her lips. “Clean it.”
The taste of leather blended with her own arousal filled her mouth as she swirled her tongue around his fingers, sucking on his digits until he pulled them away. His teeth gripped his fingertip, tugging at the black glove, pulling it slowly off of his hand, revealing long elegant fingers, before dropping it to the floor then repeating the ritual on the other.
Jareth rolled his sleeves to his elbows exposing his pale forearms. Stepping forward, shadows played across his face. His bare hand ghosted over her body, pausing at her nipple, pinching each in turn until she arched, biting her lip, swallowing her moans.
He dipped his hands between her thighs. His fingers slipping inside her with ease. “So wet, my sweet Sarah. Who would have thought the champion of the Labyrinth would enjoy being brought to her knees so thoroughly.”
His fingers swirled and pumped inside her body, his thumb circling her clit keeping pace. She struggled against her bonds, against him, against her own body. Every time she was poised to finally give in, he stopped.
She lost count how many times she had come close to climax. He edged her over and over, tormenting and teasing until she was a whimpering mess. Her body covered in a sheen of sweat, her head fell forward, hair sticking to her neck and back. Her wrists ached with the weight of her tired heavy body pulling against the shackles.
Jareth’s fingers laced in her hair, lifting her to face him. “This could all end. Just say your right words. And I’ll give you what you want.”
Sarah remained silent though her body screamed for release.
“No?” he asked. He tilted her head to the side, licking her neck, nipping at her frantic pulse. His shirt grazed against her chest. “We shall see. I bend time to my will. I will break you too.”
Summoning her strength, she wrenched away from him as best she could. “Never,” she spat.
He smiled. In any other setting, at any other time, he would have been devastatingly handsome. But here, in the depths of the Labyrinth, his happiness was terrifying. “I have eternity. Never means nothing to me.”
Her head fell forwards once more as his hand released her hair. She heard the rustle of fabric and the pop of buttons. Her knees were lifted, legs spread wide. He thrust inside her meeting no resistance as he buried himself to the hilt.
Sarah’s legs wrapped around his waist against her will, taking some of the weight off her wrists. He gripped her hips, pulling and pushing her, forcing her to ride his length. It felt so good. To be stretched and filled. The friction of his clothes against her bare skin only added to her pleasure.
With one hand, he cupped her breast, bringing his mouth to the soft mound, sucking her nipple, grazing his teeth against the tight peak, releasing it with a soft wet pop.
Jareth’s lips were on hers. His tongue invading her mouth. His moan swallowed by Sarah. She jerked her head back, staring at Jareth. What the hell?
His bewilderment was masked almost immediately. His brows furrowed, lips revealing his sharp snarl. He bent his head to her neck, sucking and nipping on her skin, leaving what would be a trail of bruises down her shoulder. His hips snapping at a rigorous pace.
Grunts, moans, metal clanking, his hips slapping against her wetness resounded in the small oubliette. It was so wrong but felt so good. Her body, overstimulated and overwrought with pleasure and pain, vibrated under his attentions. She knew she shouldn’t be enjoying this, but she was. There was no denying it.
He sucked her earlobe in between his teeth and whispered. “Say your right words, Sarah, and I’ll stop.”
“Oh, god. Don’t stop,” she moaned.
The air shifted once more. The pressure that had been around her wrists gone and she sat, straddling the Goblin King on an extravagant bed. The opulent room around her was nothing compared to what lay before her.
His naked form was spread under her, long lean muscles, hair wild against the silver sheets beneath him. “Take what you want, Sarah.” His eyes glittered with triumph.
Her lips parted in a perplexed pout until she realized what he intended. To humiliate her further, bring her to the brink, denying her repeatedly, then make her choose. Pleasure or dignity. The pain of rejecting her “punishment” or the pain of losing her self-respect.
His hips thrust upward, spurring her body to make the decision for her. She rose and fell, curving her back, grinding her clit against the base of his cock. Every time she promised she would stop, her body moved faster with the hopes of finally reaching that ever-elusive pinnacle.
She leaned forward her hands on either side of him sinking into the soft feather mattress. She was so close. Her pace was frantic, desperate as she felt heat spreading throughout her body, sparks of electricity racing up her spine. Her fingers curled into the bedding, gripping the silk sheets as her orgasm ripped through her body, shattering her mind, body, and soul.
Jareth pulled her hips down as he thrust into her prolonging her spasms while seeking his own release. As she collapsed on top of him, his movements once perfectly metered were erratic as he came deep within her.
Sarah rolled off of Jareth, snuggling into his side. “I won again.”
He kissed the crown of her head, wrapping an arm around her as he pulled her closer. “I would call that a draw.”
“Oh no, that’s something a loser says. That kiss? Don’t think I didn’t notice. That was not part of the game.” She gently poked his ribs.
Catching the offending appendage, placing a kiss on its palm before pressing it to his chest. “Very well. I will concede I got caught up in the moment.”
“And that means...next time I’m in charge.” She smiled in her afterglow. Victorious once again. She would have to think of new ways to torture him. It may be time to introduce him to battery-operated relationship aids.
“I look forward to it, love.” His eyes were closed, his breathing returning to a normal even tempo. “You know you really are quite the actress. You committed to the role beautifully.”
“Thank you. All those days in the park finally paid off. I would say the same, but I don’t think sinister villain is quite the stretch for you as damsel is for me.” She laughed enjoying the rumbling of his chest under her head when he did as well.
“I only took my cues from the hints you’ve danced around for years. Those dark secrets of yours weren’t as deep as you believed.”
Heat, rose to her cheek knowing he was right. She had dreamed of him in various dark roles long before their reconciliation. Dreams that confused and often mortified her. But he had brought out those baser inclinations and helped her accept all those parts of herself. “Jareth, I’m going to need some of that time-bending stuff. I was in the middle of a family dinner. They probably noticed.”
He huffed a light chuckle. “You said surprise you. I merely did what you asked as always.”
“You certainly succeeded in more ways than one.” She let out a contented sigh as she pressed against him.
“Do you need to leave right away?” he asked.
“No.” She knew he disliked their time away as much as she did. They still hadn’t told her family that she was courting a royal Fae. She wanted to fulfill their dreams of her achieving the degrees they deemed necessary for success. Giving them a sense of normalcy and a perceived safety net for their only daughter. But keeping up with mundane classes and family get-togethers not to mention the running of a kingdom occasionally took its toll. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”
As the night closed in, darkness spreading through the bed-chamber, Jareth’s free arm raised to cover his eyes, assuming his natural and oh-so-dramatic sleeping position. Before he could give in to the bliss that she knew called to him, Sarah piqued his interest. “So, do you have a dungeon?”
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