Jareth is a greedy man, and he knows himself well enough to honour that part of him with every choice that he makes. This is what separates him from the lesser, who spend their entire lives scrambling around trying to figure out what they want. Jareth has no time for that nonsense, not when his energy is better suited getting what he wants.
One would think it would be easy for the Goblin King, before whom men and women alike fall all over themselves to please, but that, to put it in the vernacular, would be too easy.
That's why he wants this; why he has spent years and used every trick in his arsenal to get this.
Sarah is looking down at him, her head tilted a little to the side with something that might be surprise. "I could do this forever, I think."
Of course she would say something like that, her voice just a tad hushed as though this were something small and secret between them, when to Jareth it is anything but. This is something glorious — Sarah is glorious, a sight to behold as she rides him, all fair skin and dark hair like the princess that drove Queens to madness with envy.
"You could try," Jareth says, one hand sliding up her waist to brush the heavy curve of her breast.
Sarah's face changes, just a little scrunch of the nose as she holds back the smile that threatens to shine through and right there, that is another thing Jareth wants. He wants to know how it is that her eyes can be innocent and wicked, how her little moan sounds like an order and a plea, and how when she leans forward the movement feels both deliberate and curiously experimental.
She keeps changing before his eyes; goddess and girl taking turns as she shifts her hips and elicits an unexpected gasp from Jareth's own mouth.
He knows that the little diva would gloat at that, but luckily she's preoccupied, head falling back and eyes dropping shut. She archs and shudders, perfect red mouth open with a gasp that is strangled into silence by the pleasure of it.
One day she will look at him when she comes, her eyes right into his, and he will know every secret of her, every little hidden curve of who she is — though he knows that it would take forever to learn them all.
He has the time.
The thought is pleasing, so Jareth laughs.
Sarah looks at him then, not affronted as he'd expected, but languid and curious; the look of a woman who is starting to understand the power she has. It is a good look on her, perhaps even better than the one she'd had after he'd made her come the first time, up against the wall, thighs around his waist and body at his mercy.
Her thighs are around his sides now, too, but the tightness is different, as are the fingernails that are pressing into his chest. Every bit of her is sweet and angry as she rocks against him, like maybe she has something to prove, or that this is some sort of revenge, or that she craves something else from him that she doesn't know how to ask.
Jareth doesn't know for sure, yet, but he will.
He has all the time in the all the worlds.