Odalisque
He sat on his stool and looked at the canvas before him. He had been working on the painting for weeks. The line was strong, the color rich and deep, the forms substantial; yet there was something missing. His work of art could not compare to the natural beauty that lay before him. The sun streamed in through the window and warmed her olive skin. Her long hair shone in ripples, undone from its typical braid. His fingers recalled the gentle insistence at unraveling the mass from the crisscross weaving, having her tresses fall just so across the velvet pillows beneath her. Her supple back was facing him as she gazed at him over her left shoulder, the richly woven wrap of forest green and purples gently hugging the beautiful curve of her hip, just barely covering the heaven he knew waited beneath.
She rolled her eyes at him. "You know how long I have been in this position?"
Snapped out of his reverie, he grinned. "Don't rush me, woman. Great works of art aren't finished without a bit of suffering."
"Suffering? As far as I can see I'm the only one suffering here. Your paint brushes haven't even moved in a half hour! My neck is killing me and I'm starving!"
"Starving? We can't have that. Stay right where you are and I'll be back in a flash. Don't move, or you'll find out what real suffering is!" He wagged his eyebrows, just suggestively enough to convince her that it would be worth her while to remain where she was. He put down his brushes and leaped out of the studio. Practically running down the stairs, he grabbed some strawberries and cream, some cheese, bread and some cold mint tea and bounded up them again.
In the two minutes he was away she had drifted off to sleep, looking even more enticing from the front. Her right arm beneath her head, her left hung limply over her sensuous tummy. She took his breath away every time he watched her sleep. Slowly, quiet as he could , he put down the tray. He bent down and ever so softly kissed her cheek. He eyes fluttered open, catching his with their steely gray intensity. God how he loved her eyes! He smiled at her and she returned the smile, searching his eyes to know what would happen next. Their faces only inches apart.
"You moved," he said. "Guess I'll have to make you suffer... in some delectable way."
"You almost make suffering sound pleasurable," she whispered.
"That's the idea." He paused, grinning wickedly as he sat down beside her. "I brought us some lunch. But I think you will have to endure a bit more 'suffering' before you can be satisfied." He reached over to the tray and broke off a bit of cheese. "Open," he commanded. She narrowed her eyes, letting him know she was no fool. Skeptically, she opened her mouth and he fed her, letting his fingers linger on her full lips as she savored the nuttiness of the cheese. The nest piece he held between his teeth and slowly lowered it to her mouth. She grabbed it with her teeth and growled, softly. Next a piece of bread, good, earthy grain was offered and received. She lay back, chewing and gazing at him, her appetite growing. Her cheeks began to glow. Slowly, very slowly, she reached up to his collar, grazing the hollow of his neck with her fingers. He felt the little shock of electricity go through him as it did each time she touched him there. She undid the buttons on his paint spattered shirt. She slowly pushed it off his shoulders, her warm hands lingering on his solid, strong limbs. He could tell from the spark in her eyes that the rose petals at her center would be quivering for his fingers, should he choose to let them voyage beneath the loose wrap that covered her.
Instead, he held a single, perfect strawberry between his fingers and offered it to her. She bit into its sweet, juicy flesh. Then he took the bitten fruit and smeared it down her neck, making a road of red juice down the country hillside of her darkened breast. He took the cream and poured it onto that same hillside, creating a small river and a not-so-small intake of breath. Agonizingly slowly, he licked up the trails and sucked her nipple, nibbling it at the end. "Peeta!" she cried as she grabbed at his hair, pulling him up to her and kissing him, voraciously. He withdrew and grabbed her wrists. "Wouldn't you like another strawberry, my love?" She nodded, breathless, almost squirming beneath him. He held it just out of her reach. She raised herself and grabbed it with her teeth and bit cleanly through. A bit of juice escaped her mouth and trickled away. He left it there, but took the berry remains and lifted the wrap from her abdomen. Her breathing became more rapid; he could feel his own heart pounding, his manhood growing. As the berry touched her skin she flinched and giggled. He persisted, making another trail down to those rose petals, stopping just before the soft curls that guarded them. He looked up at her and her head hit the pillow with a groan. Her hips rising just a bit, she struggled to maintain control. The berry traveled more south, as he spread her legs further with his other hand. He almost wept at her rose's beauty, glistening with anticipation for him. He lowered his face and licked her with his whole tongue. Parting those petals with his fingers, his tongue then became a paintbrush of its own. She writhed beneath him, calling his name, groaning in sweet suffering.
He rose and crawled up to rest on top of her. She grabbed at his pants and liberated him, naked as she was now. He kissed her full and long. She responded in kind. He felt her small hand around his member. Needing little encouragement, he became like a rod almost instantly. He hovered at her entrance and then slipped in with soulful force. They rose and fell together for what seemed like eternity and an instant, until they both shuddered in completion. He rolled off , but kept caressing her.
She turned her face to his. "Remind me to suffer with you more often."
He laughed and knew he had received the inspiration from his muse. He would finish his masterpiece without her in the room, his imagination holding now what had eluded him only an hour ago.