A peach to thee,
Xarael

Play, part 13

Turning to look at the ground, I noticed it was rushing up at us at a very determined rate. Terribly inconvenient of it.

"Jalen." One word, each syllable accentuated. Soft, the word brushing across my skin like the kiss of the wind. Absolutely scalding with rage. Quite a good trick if you can manage it. Jareth, appraently, could.

One hand was pressing against my jawline, forcing me to look up at him. Just the right amount of needling pain to emphasize his point. Such a pity that the white fire exploding in my wrist detracted from the effect of it. Of course, his crystalline eyes - suffused with some dark emotion I didn't particularly care to contemplate - made it a bit difficult to concentrate as well. Which was the intent. Admirably careful planning, that.

A thought or two crawled out from behind those eyes. Cruel thoughts, angry thoughts, indifferent thoughts; I couldn't tell. Completely unreadable. Only the force of them pressed down against me, into me. Definitely manipulative. Probably something along the lines of "remove your hand with all its sickening sounds from my shoulder". Hmmmm...yes. Add a dash of anger, a smattering of outrage, spice with injured pride and that was the thought. Damnable man. I didn't have time for this sort of thing, not with us hurtling towards the ground like we were. He really did pick the most inconvenient moments to have surges of testosterone. If he had testosterone. Which was another thought in and of itself. Well, whether or not it was testosterone, something had certainly stirred up his male pride to the proverbial boiling point. Ah, wait. That was my role, now wasn't it?

Dragging him down with me as I plummeted to the earth probably had something to do with it, too. Well, that was his own fault for forcing me to slam into him at a less-than- comfortable speed.

Ah yes, the maturity level was high tonight. As always.

I started to turn away from him, to glance back down at the fast approaching ground. The pressure against my jaw was suddenly intensified. Painful, that. More than a needling pain this time. Our battle was escalating again. Surprise, surprise.

The ground didn't particularly care that we were having another battle of wills in the air; it was heading towards us at an appalling speed just the same. "Jareth, love, I appreciate the sentiment, really I do. But unless you want those delightful, wet cracking sounds of which you're so fond to be issuing forth from both our bodies in the very, very near future, I suggest you let me go so I might focus upon my landing."

One delicate blond eyebrow was raised in amusement at this. The look in the eyes was not amused, however. Icy, cold, and calculating. Reptilian cold. Hmmm, I'd have to learn that trick for future intimidation. He was quite good at it, actually.

His voice whispered, calm and collected and very, very neutral. The sort of neutral that attempts to mask extreme rage. It would have worked beautifully except that I'd had occasion to use just such a tone before. That, and I could feel the quiet anger pouring out of him. He was well and truly annoyed. "You can focus on your landing, even now. It's what you've been doing the entire time, anyway. Though you pretend not to ignore me." The hand at my jaw moved down to massage my neck slowly, languidly. My ignoring him was really what irked him the most, of course. Injured pride strikes again. He would do his best to make sure that didn't happen another time. The hand moved down my cheek, across my shoulders, and down, lingering across the bare skin it touched. It was an excellent way to catch my attention. "I know your powers, Jalen. You don't need to see the ground."

Drat. Knowledge is power, truly. It was time for another tactic. A spattering of truth, perhaps. "Well, it would help enormously if you wouldn't distract me while I was attempting it. Less chance of a crash landing that way and all."

He glided up against me, close, with that lovely ethereal grace of his, one white hand tracing the lines of my face. I received a large dose of sapphire eyes, hard and glinting and beautiful. I could feel him hard against me, touching, the press of him through the satiny material of those oh-so-snug pants.

"That," I smiled wickedly, "would most certainly qualify as distracting, love."

"Such a pity."

My thoughts exactly. Admittedly, I lusted after his body. Terribly. The feeling was mutual, however. I wasn't really any worse off than before, in terms of who had the upperhand. I could control these urges, just as I controlled my blood lust. As soon as I coerced my body into believing that, I'd be fine. Really. Jareth brushing his hand softly down my side wasn't helping to convince it at all, though.

The sudden sight of the ground twenty feet below us did, however. Fancy that.

Well, there would be time to focus on lust later. Ample time. Landing without colliding into the ground seemed a bit more important just now. Ah, see? I did have my priorities in order.

Closing my eyes, I became very, very still, shutting out the outside world. Ignoring his touch, his emotions, his thoughts. Calling to that power inside me that animates me night after night. Pulling, pulling, deeper, down, down, inside, a place without thoughts, without calculations, simply the desire, the primal power...

My feet were touching the ground suddenly. Ah, lovely. Moving faster than conscious thought - I do it periodically. One of my more useful powers, certainly.

I heard amused laughter resounding through the night. Sensual, slightly mocking, throaty. It played across my skin like a cool wind, soft with the promise of something dangerous underneath.

Three guesses as to whose it was. Damnable man.

Play, part 14

Irksome man, he was still laughing in that amused fashion a good full minute later. Such a delicious laugh, really, all golden tones and dark timbres, rubbing across the skin in a delightfully sensual manner. I watched him as he laughed, the graceful bones of his jaw, the delicate line of his neck. As lovely as the view was, I was growing a bit bored.

Besides that, my neck was still imprisoned in his pale hands. Which made it that he was rather laughing in my face the entire time. Ah, the joy.

I began to play with my broken wrist, popping bones here, pushing ligaments there, forcing things to connect the way they're supposed to connect. A great deal of wet, slushy sounds issued forth at regular intervals. It was growing a bit sickening, even for me.

Jareth, however, was oblivious to it all - laughing away like a drunken man, loose, free, casual. We had a rather interesting sound track going ... pop ... laughter ... crack ... laughter ... slushy creak ... laughter ...

I would have laughed myself at the ludicrous aspect of the situation but the pain was a rather strong deterrent. Just another reminder of my ravenous need for blood in the very near future.

And there he was - standing there upright, face tilted ever so slightly, ice blue eyes suffused with hilarity, throat convulsing with laughter, slender shoulders quivering, chest straining with effort, hands holding me immobile. Looking absolutely delicious.

Temptation, temptation.

It was just as well his hands were holding me immobile.

"Well?" My voice sliced through the air, carrying a distinctively irritated edge to it. Ah, control, control... where was my control tonight?

Being employed in resisting Jareth, of course. This whole episode had all the markings of a marathon self-control session. Such an evening in store for me tonight. Other vampires probably didn't have to deal with this sort of thing. Though if I had to choose a perpetual annoyance, Jareth wasn't a bad selection.

The aforementioned annoyance at last acknowledged the question in between bursts of enchanting laughter. "Well," he took a chilly gasp of air and continued looking luscious, "what?"

I rewarded that with one cocked eyebrow and an impatient sigh. He would revel in that sigh, perhaps enough to let slip a bit of information. Always useful to have that sort of thing when engaged in a perpetual game of Mind Chess.

"What, exactly, is so funny, love?"

"Not funny," he swept a hand outwards in a flourishing sort of gesture," exhilarating."

"And what, pray tell, is so," I swept my hands through the air in exaggerated imitation of his flourish, "exhilarating?"

More sultry laughter, the kind that kissed across your skin. The hand had returned to encircle my throat.

I closed my eyes, clenching my jaw ever so slightly. He would revel in this little display of irritation as well. "I will resist the overwhelming urge to flare my nostrils in annoyance and snap at you."

I could feel the weight of his eyes upon me, pressing into me. His composure had returned. Somewhat. Traces of the "exhilaration" remained, a wicked grin spread across the mouth, laughter in the blue eyes. Triumph darkened the color of the eyes, bleeding through the merriment.

"Not like that, love. Blood lust it may be, but there is still such a thing as self- control."

"And you do have a frightening amount of it, Jalen."

"Yes, well, it's what makes life interesting. My life, anyway. Now, what was all that about? You sounded as though you were drunk."

"True enough." The words came softly, almost considering. Very introspective, those words.

Interesting. Intoxicated he had been, but by what...more importantly, how...ah, now there was knowledge worth having. The question thundered through my consciousness, pounding its way through my mind. He had been intoxicated... truly, truly intoxicated.... and possibly careless. Stronger in some ways, impossibly weakened in others. Open to so much in those few moments. But what was the cause... and, moreover, could I duplicate it...

Think on it, Jalen.

Play, part 15

It struck me all at once. Lovely, the rapid firing of the synapses and the swiftness of the neural connections. Another vampiric perk.

"You were drunk on that little rush of power, weren't you, love?" My voice was teasing, condescending, and very, very mocking. It masked my wonder rather well.

Too well, apparently. The hands around my throat tightened suddenly, almost a spasm, cutting into my windpipe. I felt the breath straining in my throat. However, none of this was apparent outwardly. No need to give him any satisfaction that way. Or any other way, really. That was the point, after all. Forever a challenge and all that.

My voice was remarkably clear, complete with its characteristic soft resonance, that little vampiric luster.

"Ah, did I hurt your feelings, love?" My words became a little softer, a little crueler. "Wound that lofty ego of yours, perhaps?" Nothing like tweaking the strings of the male ego to occupy one's time when one is being held immobile by the owner of the aforementioned male ego.

I was having, quite simply, a wonderful time. Half-strangled and enjoying myself immensely. Well, it certainly beat dinner and a movie for level of excitement.

His eyes raked over my face, considering, suddenly filled with a dark fire. There was something rather obscene about the way the eyes traced down my face, a hint of something done only in the dark in utmost privacy. Something so deep it was nearly primal.

Undiluted sexuality. A rather large dose of it, as well. Absolutely delicious.

"I do forget that the thrill of danger excites you, Jalen."

"The omnipresent cure for boredom, at one's proverbial," I glanced down at the hand around my neck, "fingertips. Who could resist?"

"You're terribly amusing, Jalen, aren't you?" There was rage intermingled with the silky golden tones of his voice. His sapphire eyes blazed cruel and hard, glinting in the moonlight. My little Jareth was not pleased, oh no, not at all.

"Oh drat, is someone's ego being bruised tonight? Poor baby."

His seemingly delicate fingers squeezed all the tighter. This was becoming ridiculous. Besides, my pride was had taken all the domination it could for one night. As had my throat, resilient though it might be.

I could have snapped my neck, I suppose, and freed myself. I preferred not to, though. Firstly, it just wasn't worth that degree of pain. Secondly, it would probably take a few nights to fully recover and, well, I had better things to do than sit around in a makeshift neck brace and try to seduce unsuspecting mortals. The whole poor-helpless-me routine ground against my nerves after awhile, anyway. It tended to attract those gallant, heroic, astoundingly boring types.

I focused my gaze on Jareth,who was neither gallant nor heroic nor astoundingly boring, locking my eyes on his cold ones and keeping my neck immobile in his grasp.

He laughed suddenly, a smooth, delicious laugh with a twist of irony in it. The return of the good humor. His laugh flowed over my skin, rich and dark and warm. Like velvet down my spine. Oooh, too lovely.

"So glad I'm not astoundingly boring to you, Jalen." One hand unlocked itself from around my neck and entertwined itself in my curls, gently tugging a few. Touching the sensitive roots, playful. It's times like this where being a sensualist can come back to haunt you.

As I savored his touch, I felt a wry smile curling up the corners of my mouth. "Same here, love."

His eyes widened with hidden jest, his mouth moving so close to mine. Touchable and kissable and ever so tantalizing. His powerful scent invaded my senses, strong and masculine and pulse-quickening, had I a pulse that could be quickened. And he knew it. Damnable, damnable man.

"Ah, but now who's to say you're not astoundingly boring to me, my little vampire, hmmm? Do you think I'm so easily amused?"

"In a word," I widened my eyes and let a jester's grin cross my features, barely contained laughter suffusing through me, "yes." I regarded him intently, "I manage to amuse you all the time."

"But not as much as you could, my little blood drinker."

"Ah, well that's another thing entirely, love."

"Really."

His face was ever so close, eyes boring into mine, mouth nearly on top of mine. And the sexuality was exuding forth at phenomenal levels. Practically palpable, it was.

I shut my mind and darted forward, pressing my lips against his, feeling that warm silky flesh against mine, so warm, so alive. So much heat. We were locked together with this thread of warmth binding us, strengthening us.

My hands shot up suddenly to grasp the back of his head. Careless of him, to move that close and not restrain my hands.

I opened my eyes and pulled back from him, enjoying the injured pride swimming behind his eyes. "You ought to know by now, love, I never yield to you without a reason." I moved to within an inch of his delectable lips. "It seems, " I brushed my lips against his and drew back again, "that we are now," his jaw was clenching with the effort of control, "at an impasse." I darted forward, stopping just short of his lips. "You can't break my grasp, not from this position, and I," I tilted my head to the side, brushing my lips down his jawline," can't break yours, not without a great deal, " moving to brush my lips down his neck, "of unnecessary pain. Therefore," I drew back suddenly, "might we exercise a little logic and release each other?"

A wry grin passed through his lips, followed by a soft, luscious laugh. "It seems there's more to you than I thought, Jalen. Trusting me, here, like this. How very touching. There's hope for you yet." I felt his hands loosen, slide from my neck, down onto my shoulders, down my sides, resting on my hips, rubbing against the material of my shirt, finally gone. "Now, I believe it's your turn."

I released him instantly, stepping back to regard him with one of my best penetrating stares. "This was some sort of test, then."

His lips were twisting in a vain attempt to suppress a smile, to keep himself utterly impassive as he said his next line. "You were expecting anything less?"

One eyebrow jumped up of its own accord. "What's this - wry wit from the malevolent Goblin King? My, we certainly are expanding our character repertoire tonight."

"It's an opportunity to practice, love."

"Ah, now hold a moment. Either that was biting sarcasm or you're merely adopting my word for the sheer hell of it. As these are both my preferred character traits, this new character seems to be based off of me."

"Exactly, love."

"What, you ran out of original ideas?"

His eyes narrowed, though the smile had bloomed now. "With such an example set before me, how could I resist, love?" Parody at its best, this was. The accuracy of his mimicry was breathtaking.

"Adopt my character traits, if you will, but leave the term of endearment alone. That's mine and mine alone. It's distinctive, love."

"And what if I don't, love? What will you do to me, love? To quote someone rather memorable, you have no power over me, love."

"Not directly, of course - though that is arguable. I have my ways, cupcake." His eyebrows jumped a bit at this. "Putting a few other choice names into use, darling, is all I need to do. I can always use your actual name, too, honey. But then, where would the fun in that be, angel?"

He threw back his head and laughed, letting his luxurious blond locks tumble down, exposing the lovely swan's neck for my viewing pleasure. "These other...names...would be an improvement, love."

It was time to step up the ammunition. "Oh, but I can do so much better, sugarlips. Creativity is one of my strongpoints, my little cutie pie."

"Your little... cutie pie." My dear Jareth was having a slight attack of disbelief, with an edge of barely contained mirth to it.

"And they do get better, my sweet patootie. Don't tempt me."

Play part 16

"Your sweet...patootie...," he shook his head slowly, languidly, eyes closed, barest hint of a smile. The voice came rich and deep, caressing and sinuous. "You are a remarkably frightening creature, Jalen."

"Yes, well, so they tell me. Comes of keeping company with you too much, I suppose. You do have a tendency to rub off on me, love."

He glided around me, past me, behind me, all catlike grace and fluid motions. His hands slid on my shoulders, his breath warm on my neck, near my ear. "But do I have the tendency to rub," those succulent lips touched the delicate flesh just beneath my ear,"on you," a butterfly's touch of a mouth on my skin, "Jalen?" He breathed out my name, low, throbbing, a deep pulse of a voice. Seduction, Jareth be thy name.

I grasped a fistful of shiny, blond tresses. The bones of my wrist shifted slightly, the grating sound echoing nicely by his ear. Ah yes, that was marvelously appetizing.

The hot press of his mouth hadn't let up, though. And I couldn't bring myself to jerk that fistful of hair, not yet. That hard, hot throbbing of his kiss was simply too delicious. Bane of Self-Control, Jareth be thy name as well.

A low purring sound echoed softly in the night and I found myself turning in towards him, toward that warmth of blood and life, that satiny skin, that lustrous hair, that heady scent. Damnable emotions, responding without my consent. I needed to have a talk with them at some point.

I faced him now, his mouth brushing along my jaw, upwards, upwards, closer, closer with that lovely heat and blood and warmth and life and blood and blood-

I jerked the fistful of hair.

He drew back, a self-satisfied smirk crossing those delectable lips.

I raised a finger languidly, then ran it under his chin. "You are positively devilish, love, do you know this? Absolutely," I pushed the fingernail into the soft part of his neck, "evil."

He simply stood there, looking postively scrumptious, that little smile playing across his lips.

I pressed the nail in deeper. It would draw blood soon. Which wouldn't be a good idea in my present fevered pitch of hunger. Better scratch that. Or rather, better not scratch that.

I withdrew my hand and stared at him in him in a slightly bored fashion. It took more than considerable effort. A great deal more.

"How many more of these little tests of temptation do I have to endure tonight, love? And isn't there some sort of rule against a constant bombardment like this - section 3, article 2, segment 407 of the Players' Guide to Jareth or something like that?"

The wicked smile of amusement blossomed again. "Possibly. Though the rules may have altered."

"And how," I stepped forward," exactly," closer," would you," against him,"know," staring into his eyes, "that," closer still, "love?"

His hand moved lightning quick, grasping my chin in his hand, raising it to touch his mouth, so close, not quite, not touching, not yet. "Remarkably simple," lips so close, "my dear Jalen," rush of heat emanating, "I altered them."

I dodged his mouth, if rather half-heartedly, by turning around so that I ended up with my neck cradled against him. A bit of deja vu, that. At least my concentration had a chance to return. "And why is it that you're the only one allowed to alter the rules without notice, hmmm?"

"Expectations are wonderful things, my little vampire, particularly yours."

"Do you take delight in calling me these exceedingly aggravating pet names?"

"You would expect me to, wouldn't you?"

"All right, point made. Though if you're so inherently powerful, love, why follow the structure my expectations have laid out for you?"

He smiled. Again. "Now that, my dear Jalen, is classified information."

I made a great show of staring at the sky and shaking my head ever so slightly. The smugness was quite simply emanating forth from him. "Someone ask me why this is not particularly shocking."

The voice came from the left, from the shadows. Soft, unobstrusive, and very, very polite.

"Well, Angelique, if you insist."

The most lovely thought came into my head and I proceeded to smirk wickedly. I couldn't help it, really. It was simply too perfect.

I looked pointedly at the ground, parody of an innocent little girl brimming with a secret, wide-eyed and sincere, hand to my lips, whispering my little girl's secret to the absolutely still form of my dear Jareth.

"Did I mention, love, that I was expecting company?"

*************

A comment, a comment, my kingdom for a comment...well, it's not exactly a kingdom since I'm female, it would be more of a queendom....though, of course, I'm not exactly royalty so this whole thread of thought is null and void anyway....but, well, you get the idea.

Xarael called Jalen