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Chapter Two: No love injection...

Goblins went scurrying in all directions. Their king was whistling. And smiling. This was bad, bad news for whoever got in his way...

Jareth twirled his short whip in one gloved hand, grinning to himself. Sarah was exactly perfect, he decided. Yearning for one thing, which her parents wouldn’t give her, while trying to escape something else that they were pushing on her from another side.

And to think, that her odious mortal stepmother had given him the entire plan, fully made. He would have to thank her sometime. Perhaps by waving her exile in the bog. That would be enough, he thought.

Now he simply had to carry it through.

* * *

“Hello, Sarah.”

His voice was soft and gentle, caressing, as he sat lounging on her windowsill. His legs were stretched out in front of him, his black boots gleaming in the dim light of her room.

She sat up and whirled around, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. Why was she frightened?

“I didn’t call you,” she snapped. “I don’t want you here. Go away! You aren’t supposed to come unless you’re called.”

Jareth smiled and rolled his shoulders slightly, emphasizing the spotless, snow-white poet’s shirt that displayed his sleek chest. “There is more than one way to call me, Sarah,” he replied gently, seductively. “And I assure you, I was called.”

Sarah hissed, pushing herself backward onto her bed until her back hit the headboard, a pillow clutched to her chest. “No. Who would call you? No one believes. No one but me, and I didn’t call.” She knew that much, was certain of it. No matter what else she did, she wouldn’t call him.

Jareth smiled slightly and stood, striding gracefully to her bed and sitting on the edge of it, letting his eyes flicker down her body, mentally appreciating what she had chosen to wear that night...for him.

“I assure you, Sarah, I was called. By you, in fact.” His voice was liquid silk, sliding over her bare skin, and she shivered.

“You’re lying!” she accused suddenly, leaning slightly away from him with a bare trace of her curled lip—in disgust, he was sure. “I would never call you!” She hadn’t missed the lecherous look that he had given her, and she suddenly regretted pulling off her over-shirt to reveal the thin camisole and inadequate shorts that were all that was left between his eyes and her body.

Jareth smiled, pouring more charm into his voice, more smoky heat into his glowing eyes. “You may not have meant to, my dear Sarah,” he purred silkily, “but it doesn’t always take a verbalized summons to bring me. A mere wish is sometimes enough.” He reached out to take her hand and lift it to his lips, smiling sardonically over her wrist.

Sarah’s lip curled and she tried pulling her hand back, but he held it fast. Jareth’s eyes glowed at her feeble attempt, almost ignoring her next words in favor of the hand he still held.

“And how would you know what I wish?” she pried angrily.

“Temper...” he purred sweetly into her still-captive hand. He flipped it over suddenly, ignoring the more traditional knuckles to press his lips to her palm, a more intimate gesture. His eyes had fallen from hers to contemplate the pale skin that he had revealed.

When he spread his lips to press the tip of his tongue to her delicate skin, followed by a short nip, she suddenly jerked her hand back instinctively.

“Get out of here!” she hissed. “Or I’ll—”

“Yes, what will you do?” he goaded her, lying back to lounge more comfortably on her bed. “How will you explain when your father finds a strange man in your bed?”

Sarah flushed, then tried not to. She knew what he was trying to do to her, she just...couldn’t stop him. Her mouth opened for more empty threats, more venomous curses, but he beat her to it.

“Wouldn’t you like to know why I’m here?” he asked. “After all, it isn’t often that I haunt mortal women’s bedrooms...”

Sarah snarled again, but answered. “Fine. Will you leave once you’ve told me?” she snapped.

Jareth smiled. “Perhaps.” But he didn’t let her explode on his statement as he knew she was waiting to. Instead he simply propped himself up on his elbows, shaking his hair out regally, taunting her with his beauty.

With what she could have had, if she had chosen differently.

“I know of a way that you can get out of that,” he teased her, nodding his head at the pink confection hanging on her door. “And a way that you can go to that instead.” He flicked his chin to the pale blue flyer, now carefully tacked onto the wall behind her computer.

Sarah followed his movements suspiciously. “You’re lying. There’s no way; I’ve already tried.”

“Oh, but I can do so many more things than you think,” he purred, and suddenly she wasn’t sure what he referred to. Her eyes dropped from his unwillingly, trying to escape his spell, and settled on the firm bulge beneath his waist, barely covered by the skintight gray breeches he wore.

She flushed and looked away. She was certain that she hadn’t gasped.

Jareth smiled to himself. If only he had known that it would be this easy, he would have tried harder long ago. He pushed himself up and reversed his position, reclining on the bed beside her, beside his beautiful prize.

“They want a man in your life,” he purred sweetly into her ear as she looked determinedly away. His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her hips toward him, closer to laying beside him. She finally released the pillow that had masked her body to steady herself with her hands, startled, and he took the chance to flick the distraction out of her grasp. “Someone strong and caring...”

She whipped her head back around at his blatant lies, then gasped again at how close he was, almost hovering over her. “Get away from me, you creep!” she hissed again.

Jareth smiled, continuing to pull her down to lay beside him on her bed, ignoring her attempts to push him away. He settled above her, one arm on each side of her body trapping her beneath him, mentally appreciating the way her auburn hair pooled on the pillow beneath her head, creating a worthy frame for her delicate ivory face. “As long as you leave for their silly prom with a man, how will they ever know if you never arrive with him?”

Sarah glared at him, her hands on his shoulders still trying to push him away. “Are you suggesting that I get a date just so you can kill him?” she snarled, hating the sight of him, hating the position he had put her in.

“Of course not, my dear,” he purred. “That would be entirely pointless, and far too much work for me. No... I was...insinuating...” He seemed to like the word, the connotations that she couldn’t ignore with him hanging over her. “...that you go with me. I am more than capable of taking you to this ‘con’ of yours. Your simple-minded parents would never have to know,” he purred.

Sarah froze, her mouth hanging open, empty of the curses that had so lately filled it. She tried to think through what he was saying, analyze it, understand what it was that he was hiding from her.

Jareth chuckled lightly at her dumbfounded expression. “You would be safe,” he promised. “I wouldn’t return you to my castle, or my realm...unless you asked, of course.”

Her eyes flashed, remembering another instance of asking.

He beat her to it. The years that he had spent watching her had given him far better insight into her expressions than she knew. “Verbally, this time,” he assured her lightly. “You would have nothing to fear; no one will dare touch you while you are with me, and I will return you here at the end of the evening, perfectly intact.”

“How perf—” she objected, but stopped herself before she could reveal too much.

Jareth smiled to himself. He had long suspected, but to have it confirmed? That was precious. “Even that,” he assured her again, though he let his hips rest on hers, letting her feel what she was missing.

Yes...that you will keep until you beg me to take it, he thought to himself smugly. And you will beg, Sarah Williams. You will beg so beseechingly before I’m through...but you will not join my bed until I wring a certain vow from your luscious cherry lips.

Sarah snarled and tried to knee his crotch, but he stopped her effortlessly before she managed to lift her knee from the bed. “How can I trust you?” she snapped.

He smiled. “I give you my word as the Goblin King,” he replied silkily, reminding her of who he was. Who she was lying beneath, unable to escape.

He wondered distantly if she realized that he knew exactly how desperately her heart was pounding, why she suddenly felt so hot.

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t trust that” came through clenched teeth.

He smiled, leaning down a little closer, amused at her efforts to push her head back into the pillow to escape him. “You can trust me, or not,” he purred. “But if you want to go to your convention, you will have to go with me.” He smiled as she turned her head resolutely away from him, to the closet door from which her dress hung. “And you can escape your stepmother’s prom,” he purred in her ear. “I know how trying dancing is for you.”

The music box tinkled out their song again.

Sarah’s head whipped around, ignoring the fact that his face was barely an inch from hers. “You know nothing.” Her words were like ice, but Jareth ignored them.

“Give it some thought,” he insisted. He pressed his lips gently to hers, just enough to leave her an impression of his warmth, his taste as his tongue flicked out to her lips momentarily.

Then he lunged back, depositing one of his clear crystals between her breasts. Sarah didn’t miss that doing so let him touch her breasts, though the contact was only glancing.

“And call me when you decide.”