The Muse Pt 03

The Third Session.

"Can I see it?"

"No."

"Come on, just a peek?"

"No."

"Please?"

I've never seen a grown man pout or complain so much. Alex has been asking if he can see what the painting looks like so far for the past hour and I have barely finished painting in the basic design. He'd be getting on my nerves if he wasn't so fucking sexy.

"Didn't anyone tell you that patience is a virtue?" I ask him.

"Yes," he answers. "But not one of mine."

"Clearly, but I've told you before: it's not ready yet."

"So you never let anyone look at your work until it's finished?"

"Only my agent."

"I see. Does that mean I'll have to get into arts agency just to take a look at your work?"

"If it'll pay more than posing naked in front of strangers. Speaking of which, hold still."

Alex returns to the previous pose until I finally finish filling his shape with the tone of his skin. I will be adding the shadows and highlights for chiaroscuro later, but for now I think a tea break is in order. Covering the canvas with cloth, I ask Alex if he wants tea or coffee, but he asks for neither.

"Can I see?" he asks.

"For the last time, Alex, no."

"I don't mean the painting. I mean you."

My cheeks are suddenly warm and when I look to him he's standing from his seat, stark naked and eyes darker than usual as they search me up and down.

"You've seen me already," I tell him. "Yesterday, remember?"

"I remember," he nods. "But I didn't get to see all of you."

My cheeks are even warmer when I think of what happened yesterday and what he's asking for now. "You...you want to see me naked? Completely naked?"

"It's only fair."

"You're the model, I'm supposed to see you naked."

"Only when you're painting me, which you're not doing right now."

He has a point. A bloody good one, too, at least good enough to persuade me.

I straighten and slowly slip out of my blouse, then my jeans, my knickers and my bra. My clothes and underthings are dropped to my feet and I'm fully exposed. I've never had anyone look at me like this before. Most of my past partners have simply torn my clothes off my back and gone at it, but none of them have ever simply stopped to look. Alex, on the other hand, looks at me like I'm a work of art and that's more than good enough for me.

"Beautiful," is all he says. The word seems new to me.

He steps closer, causing me to step back. He follows until I feel the cold wall against my bare back. I'm nearly crushed between the wall and Alex's semi-hard cock.

There is that smile again.

Alex lifts his left hand, but stops to look me in the eye, as if silently asking permission to touch me. I find his consideration surprisingly sweet, considering the fact that it comes from a man twice my size cornering my nude body against his.

His hand touches my cheek first in a gesture of tenderness. His thumb traces my bottom lip and I'm tempted to suck it, but I'm not sure that's what he wants yet. His hand lowers to my neck, my shoulder, my arm, my hand, my hip, my waist and when he reaches my breast, he immediately takes both breasts in both hands and plays with the nipples with his thumbs. When they're both hard for him he lowers his head to suck greedily on the left nipple and then the right like a starving child.

His mouth is hot, but so very gentle against the harsh stubble that scratches my skin. The contrast of it is just as arousing as his firm touch and I release a moan from the back of my throat, which is followed by a gasp when I feel him bite a nipple without warning. I catch a glimpse of that wicked smile again. He bites the other for the same reaction, clearly satisfied.

As he kisses his way up to my neck, I feel a hand moving its way down between my legs and I can feel him smiling against my skin when he finds how wet I am for him. His touch is feather-light at first, not what I want at all. Before I can beg for more, I hear him murmuring the word "warm" before he dips his middle and forefinger into my cunt.

I curse under my breath. His fingers are thick and clever. They find my g-spot without any trial or effort and move slowly, but with a certain expertise that makes my eyes roll into the back of my head.

He's fully hard now. I reach down between us to stroke his cock, but he grabs my wrist and pins it to the wall. I move to kiss him, but he stops me then as well. His right left is now clapped around my throat and his right caressing my cunt. He is in complete control.

I can't move. I can't speak. All I can do is feel myself getting closer and closer to climax with each stroke of my clit and every whisper of my name against my lips.

"Helena. Helena. Helena."

I love the way he says my name. His voice is enough to send me over the edge and I come all over his fingers.

I want to kiss him, touch him, taste him or at least do something to return the favour, but his hand is still at my throat. The other, however, stays between my legs until I catch my breath again. When I finally do, he takes his hand away and sucks my juices from his fingertips, looking me dead straight in the eye with a growl of satisfaction.

"You're so beautiful."

Alex is so close to me that I can feel his breath against my lips. I should take this opportunity to kiss him, but he holds me back by the scruff of my neck until I stand still. He starts to step away, but I stop him by taking him by the waist and reaching for his cock. Before I can so much as touch him he jerks my hands away.

"No," he growls.

"Why not?" I ask. I try my best to appear as enticing as possible, but I'm internally screaming with frustration. "You've let me come twice already. I want to return the favour."

"Oh, you will, Helena. Trust me, but didn't anyone tell you that patience is a virtue?"

That smile again. That fucking stupid, sexy smile. He's teasing me. He probably expects me to go down on my knees begging for his cock, but I can tease too.

"Fine," I shrug off the seductive poise and shake his hands from my wrists. "Shall we get back to work then?"

I catch the glimpse of a furrow in his brow before I take my clothes back on and return to my easel and canvas. He reluctantly returns to his previous pose, but he stares at me in a different way from earlier. Whether I'm the first to play his game this way or not, I'm not quite sure, but I feel like I should earn at least a point.

When the session is over, Alex lets me watch him dress and asks me: "Any hump day plans for this evening?"

I suppress a smile at the innuendo, but try to pay attention to cleaning my brushes. "Girls' night," I tell him. "A couple of girlfriends and I usually have a little 'wine and whine' on Wednesdays. Why? Were you thinking of teasing me some more?"

"Oh, I'm not teasing you, Helena," he says and I'm ready to call bullshit. "A tease doesn't follow through and I most definitely plan on following through."

I'm stopped in my tracks. Alex is fully dressed now, namely in that stupid smile. I'm beginning to form a love-hate relationship with that smile.

"By the way," he says on his way out. "You taste fucking amazing."

He's gone before I can say anything, not that I have anything to say. I want to curse him, scold him, pin him against the wall and fuck him senseless, but I can barely move, let alone speak. If my voice weren't caught in my throat I'd be screaming: "Fuck you, Alex! Fuck you and fuck your fucking sexy smile!"

But for now, I have brushes to clean, a studio to tidy and a full barrel of wine to buy...or at least a couple of bottles. The barrel I'm likely to save just for me.

My girlfriends and I have always taken turns on whose apartment our girls' night is hosted at. I don't know how that tradition began, but in all fairness I think the wine may have had something to do with that. Wine, of course, is always our guest of honour, but it never comes unaccompanied. The food is always different, depending on which of is hosting; Victoria with her decadent hors d'oeuvres, Kelsey with her simple snacks and myself with something in between.

I piece together a ploughman's board with red and white wine for my friends, who arrive just as predicted–Victoria just on time dressed in only the finest and Kesley almost an hour late in jeans and a t-shirt. We eat, we drink and we bitch about this and that and all that jazz until I'm distracted by a text.

Alex–Hey. 8:45 pm.

I ignore it for a moment, but I don't stop him.

Alex-Thinking about you. ;). 8:47pm.

My cheeks are red hot, which could either be because of the wine or the text and what it implies. I'm going with the text.

Alex–I had a great time today. 8:50 pm.

"Who the hell keeps texting you?" Kelsey asks.

I try and fail shake off my blush. "Alex," I tell her. "He's my new model."

"I thought you were working with Natalie."

"I was, but she's sick with a stomach bug, so Alex is taking over. He's great, actually. I'm painting him as Hades."

Victoria raises an eyebrow as she takes a sip of her merlot. Her perfectly painted red lips curve into a similar smile to my model's. "How great?"

I roll my eyes. I know how nosy my friends are in when it comes to my sex life, especially Victoria. I also know that neither of them are artists and have never set foot in a life drawing class.

"Don't get any ideas, Vic," I say. "He's just my model."

"Then what's that look on your face?"

"What look?"

"You're blushing!"

"That's just the wine."

"Bullshit," Kelsey chimes in. "It doesn't take a genius to tell the difference between a booze-blush and a crush-blush, so spill. What's he like?"

I look back at what happened today and yesterday. How do I even describe what Alex is like? What kind of words can I use? Pretty? Funny? Sexy?

"See for yourself," I tell them instead and I reach for my sketchbook. When they open it and turn to the most recent pages, both my friends gasp with wide eyes at my model. Kelsey bites her already chipped nails while Victoria plays with her soft blonde hair.

"Holy shit," Kelsey pants. "He's gorgeous!"

"He is quite delicious," says Victoria. "Awfully big too."

I take an unusually large swig of my merlot in order to hide my cheeks, which are probably beet red by now.

"Jokes aside, Helena," Victoria continues. "I think these are some of your best sketches yet."

I nearly choke on my wine. A genuine compliment from Victoria? One that doesn't come with a side of sarcasm or spite? This is new.

"Really?" I ask.

"Of course!"

"She's right, Helena," Kelsey nods. "I mean, you've always been good at this, but these...these are amazing!"

My friends hand my sketchbook back to me. Yesterday's sketch of Alex stares back at me with a twinkle in his eye that I was just barely able to capture on paper. As I observe, I take notice of the little differences between this particular sketch and the many others from before I met the model. The line quality is smoother, the features have become more precise and the anatomy...well, perhaps becoming more acquainted with it on a more personal level has made an improvement.

I think I may have found a new muse.