The Muse Pt 05

The Fifth Session.

The painting is finished. I came to the studio early this morning, practically at the crack of dawn, with a head full of ideas and once I sat before the canvas I couldn't put my brush down. I've managed to curve the corner of his lips into the mischievous smirk that I've become all too familiar with. The last detail is the little twinkle in his eye, seducing Persephone into eating the pomegranate and sealing her fate.

Once it's done I can't stop staring at it. I almost feel like Persephone herself. I'm so tempted to grab the pomegranate from Hades' hand, rip it open and gobble it up.

Paint stains cover my hands, arms, and face. Every artist's battle scars. I should clean them up before Alex gets here but find I can't be bothered. Instead, I pick up my phone and rummage through my contacts until I tap his name. I feel a rush when I hear his voice after three rings.

"Hey, sexy!" he says.

"Hi, Alex. Are you coming to the studio?"

"I'm on my way. Why?"

"'Cause I'm done."

He pauses. "Done?"

"The painting," I say. "I just finished it."

"Already?"

"Yeah."

"Without me? I feel so left out."

I smile because I can't help it. "Well," I say. "Why don't you come over and see it? I'm sure I can find a way to make it up to you."

I wonder if he's smiling back.

"I'll be right there," he says and hangs up.

Alex arrives within five minutes and is already hugging me once he makes it through the door. He's never hugged me before and I feel strangely closer to him now than I have in the past.

"You look like you've just battled a paint monster," he tells me.

I laugh. "I have and I won."

He laughs back and, for the first time, he kisses me. After all we've done, he's finally kissing me.

On the outside, I'm kissing him back. On the inside, I'm dancing for joy. I half expect his kisses to be just as harsh as his touch, but he is strangely soft. His lips are hard and soft all at once and when he slips his tongue through my lips I can taste coffee and cigarettes.

He's holding me tight. He carries me to the stage where he's posed for me in the past week and I'm crushed underneath him. Clothes begin to fly off into a pile on the ground. His mouth is hot on my neck and he finds a spot behind my ear that makes me shudder. One hand rakes through my hair, loosening it from the lazy ponytail, while the other teases me between the legs. Before long he is opening my jeans and slipping his hand under my panties, gathering my juices with two fingers and rubbing little circles around my clit. He watches me moan for a while until I cry: "No!"

He looks up at me, his brow furrowed. He tries to protest, but I stop him. I'm rolling him to his back and sitting astride him, which brings back that wicked smile I've grown to love. He groans when I grind against him, teasing him a little before opening his jeans.

"You've teased me for long enough," I tell him. "It's my turn."

Alex doesn't protest. He only bites his lip harder and harder with each grind. Soon, I'm pulling his pants off so his cock springs free.

His cock is beautiful and fits perfectly in my hand. It's just as clean and soft as I thought it would feel and I can't stop stroking it. He feels like silk on steel. With each stroke, I learn the shape of him and take all the pleasure I can in tormenting him as almost relentlessly as he's been tormenting me.

Almost. I'm not as cruel as he is.

I lower my head and run the tip of my tongue from the balls to the tip teasing the frenulum with the tip of my tongue. I continue this until he's begging, but I don't want to give him the satisfaction just yet. I want to tease him the way he's teased me.

"Fuck," he groans. "Helena, please!"

The wicked smile is mine now. "Since you said 'please.'"

I take his entire length in my mouth and suck hard. His groans are more erratic now and he wriggles and writhes like a cat being stroked at just the right spot. He practically purrs.

"Oh, fuck! Helena! Don't stop! Don't fucking stop!

"Stop," he finally says and pulls my head back by the hair. "I don't want to come yet."

I nod. I know what he wants and I know what I want. I want him.

I look him dead straight in the eyes and tell him: "Fuck me."

He nods. "Do you want me to get a condom?"

"No, It's okay. I have an IUD."

"Okay. Are you...?"

"Clean? Yes. You?"

"As a whistle."

"Good. Now, fuck me."

There's that wicked smile again and he kisses me hard on the mouth before moving to hover over me before I can take a hold of his cock and pull it into me.

His moans become more animalistic when he's deep inside me. As he traces every curve and crevice of my body as delicately as I trace the details of his tattoos, he moves at a steady rhythm that I know he's trying to hold back. At first, I think he's trying to savour the moment, but when I feel his hand at my throat I know he's just trying to hold back.

He tells me repeatedly how tight I am and how good I feel.

"Helena," he keeps moaning. "You're so beautiful. You're so fucking beautiful."

I respond by rolling him onto his back, which takes effort. Our fight for dominance is almost violent and though I win, I'm already marked with bruises and bite marks. I ride him, hard, harder and hardest. His moans become growls and every now and then he'll spank my backside so I'll move faster and faster until my thrusts can catch up with his. Soon I feel him twitching inside me. I lean back, resting one hand on his thigh and the other on my clit.

The room seems to shake when we come together.

When it's over, he holds me. I've never been held by the men I've slept with, at least not like this. Not as close as this.

I hold him back and I never want to let go. Eventually, I do, once we're both laughing at the strange feeling of him softening inside me. I stumble off of him, my limbs barely conscious, and rest my head on his chest.

As soon as we catch our breath, Alex kisses the top of my head and asks me: "So, when am I going to see this new masterpiece?"

"See for yourself," I say. I point to the completed canvas before us, which I think Alex was too distracted to take in. "It's right there."

Alex's dark eyes light up when he sees the painting. His figure looks down on him from a throne made of the bones of who the ghosts in his realm used to be, as his great three-headed dog, Cerberus, rests at his feet. The pomegranate in his hand is offered as a gift. Alex stares as if he's at the feet of the god himself.

"Do I really look like that?" he asks.

"Yes," I answer. "To me, you do."

He looks at me and smiles. His hand rests on my cheek and his thumb traces my bottom lip, just like it had when he touched me for the first time.

"I think I may have found a muse in you," I tell him.

"If it involves more of this, then I'll take that title."

"I mean it, Alex. I've got a whole bunch of ideas for new paintings because of you, I've had a great time painting you, and I really like working with you. I think we could make some good work together."

He smiles. "Does that mean spending more time with you?"

I smile back and nod. "Yes, it does."

"Naked, I hope?"

"Very naked."

"Then I'll take the job," he nods before kissing the tip of my nose. "On one condition."

I furrow my brow, but nod again and listen.

"If we're going to continue working like this, can I take you to dinner some time?"

I laugh weakly. "All this teasing and you're asking me out now?"

"Yeah, I am."

I think about this for a moment. My first instinct is to say yes, but there's something I need to know before I do.

"Can I ask you something first?"

"I think you just did, but go on."

"Why did it take you this long to sleep with me?"

He shrugs. "I like the buildup, I guess."

"That's it?"

"Pretty much."

"So, even when you were jerking off in front of me, rubbing me in, eating me out, and I waited the whole week for you to even kiss me, that was all buildup?"

"Yeah."

"That's cruel."

He shrugs again. "Maybe, but you still kissed me back."

Before I can say another word, he looks at me with a warmer smile than I'm used to.

"I like you, Helena. When I like someone, I don't just fuck them. I'm not the type of guy who just goes in, unloads, pulls out, and leaves before dawn without so much as a name or number. I like to leave a girl wanting more before I make love to her because when I do, I'm not only giving her the fucking she deserves but I'll also know she's worth fucking. Does that make sense?"

"Such sweet words," I tease because I don't want to admit just how much it soothes me to hear this.

"And I mean every single one of them," he tells me and kisses me deeply. "So, what do you say? I keep posing for you and you go out with me?"

My smile returns. "It's a deal."

I don't know how long it takes before we leave the studio. We lose count of how many times we fuck before we reach round whatever. Eventually, one of us orders Chinese and we tell stories and jokes over lunch before we fuck some more.

Eventually, I have to close the studio and we agree to have dinner on Saturday at eight. It might be strange, being able to talk to each other when we're both completely clothed, but the chance to get to know him (among other things) is enough for me.

I go to the jazz bar to celebrate because it's ridiculous how happy the day has made me. I feel like there's a light inside me that's ready to burst from my chest any moment, so everyone can be just as happy as I am.

Not long after ordering the pomegranate martini, I see Victoria. A day ago I would have dreaded saying hello to her, but even her smug grin when she sees me can't pull me down.

I say hello, apparently in a cheerier tone than I usually greet her with.

"You seem happy," she points out after ordering a drink with a complicated name that I don't care to remember.

"I am," I say. "I finished the painting today."

"That's great! What are you going to do with it?"

"I was thinking of making it a centrepiece in a new collection."

She smiles, but I know it isn't the painting she's smiling about. "And your model? Alex, wasn't it?"

I nod. "We're having dinner this weekend."

Her brilliant smile widens. "Did you fuck him?"

I don't say anything about Alex. I just smile and, to my surprise, she smiles too and she hugs me.

"Wait," I say, my smile falling. "You're not mad?"

She lets go of me. "Why would I be mad?"

"I thought you liked him. I mean, you were flirting with him when you were at the studio just the other day...weren't you?"

Victoria just laughs. "Are you kidding? I mean, he's cute, but he's not my type at all."

"Why were you flirting with him, then?"

"I was just testing to him, you silly girl."

"Testing him?"

"I had to see the guy for myself and I wanted to see if he was good enough for you, so I flirted with him to see if he'd flirt back."

My eyes widen. I want to say something, but I can't find the words. The only thing that can slip from my stiff tongue is a fragile "What?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Helena," Victoria says with a warmer than usual hand on my shoulder. "I know how many times you've been burned. I can't let someone you like this much burn you too."

I'm not even drunk yet and I could kiss my friend. I think back on all the horrible things I've thought about her and laugh on the inside at how stupid and petty those thoughts were.

I make a mental note to paint her as Psyche.