More than a muse 🎨

Ready Eddie?🎨

A week had passed and Ed had let you stay over each night, still too cautious to allow you to walk home alone in the dark. But you didn't complain, not once. Each night he fell asleep against your chest as you stared up at the ceiling and ran through various scenarios in your head. The most recent one involving Ed's large hands and all the places he could put them once the final painting session was over.

The evening was closing in and the light had dimmed.
"Finished." he muttered, sounding unsure and still eyeing up the painting for want of errors to correct. A true perfectionist. But sure enough, it was done.
"Congratulations." you mumbled through a yawn, he scowled at you for sounding insincere. You ignored him, relaxing into the sofa with a loud, pained sigh, your arms and back aching like crazy. You shamelessly removed the cloth and tossed it aside in celebration whilst he wasn't looking, giggling at the thought of his expression if he'd have turned to see you so carefree.

Ed took the canvas off of the easel and rested it against the wall at the back of the room, replacing it with a freshly prepared, plain white canvas. He looked over at you as you finally got up and gained the energy to put on a long t-shirt you had borrowed from Ed. He cocked his head, observing your obvious discomfort.
"Massage?" he offered, placing his large hands on your shoulders and gently rubbing circles with his thumbs applying more pressure each time.
"Did you h-have to wait until I got d-dressed?" you moaned, hardly paying attention to the words leaving your mouth.
"You're hardly dressed." he teased and raised an eyebrow.
"Says you! You know it's a rare sight to see you fully dressed and I'm the model, what's your excuse."
"It's freeing." he retorted. Stopping the shoulder massage and spinning you around to face him. He left to go and grab you both snacks.
"Half a job" you muttered under your breath, scrunching your face into a pout.
He continued and eventually returned with a tub of ice cream, and two spoons, handing you one and the half empty tub, prepared to wait his turn or get none at all.
"Ah, dinner." you jabbed, he ignored you, knowing you secretly loved indulging in his horrendous diet.
"Contrary to popular belief, I can't read minds, if you want a proper massage you'll have to ask, and less of the back chat." He joked, digging his spoon into the tub, stealing all the good bits, typical.

After an hour of eating and an outrageous amount of flirting on both your parts, you gave in and asked.
"Eddie... can I take you up on your previous offer?" you asked, trying not to completely expose your deep desire to be touched by the man.
"Which one?" He smirked, toying with you.
"Fuck me." you hissed, only half joking. Ed, now sharing the sofa with you, smiled sarcastically at first, but his expression sweetened at the sight of your eager grin.
"Sure, but you'll have to take this off first." he grasped the fabric of your sleeve of the shirt he'd lent you, pushing it up so it tightened over your shoulder, exposing it once more. He smoothed his thumb over your freckles and began tracing his fingers down your body, stopping at your legs, massaging your thighs slowly. You followed his fingers with your eyes as he leant down, replacing his fingers with soft kisses up your thighs, towards your noticeably damp thong, you hummed and melted under his touch.

You stood up taking off the baggy t-shirt, throwing it onto the chair Ed had previously sat in. He looked up at you, furrowing his brows, feeling deflated from your temporary rejection. But he was happy to wait, patient as ever. You walked back over to the sofa, Ed following your form with his eyes. To his surprise you turned away from him, insinuating you actually wanted a massage. You laid on your front, exposing your bare back knowing he loved to study the intricacies of your unclothed body. Ed watched you wriggle into a comfortable potion, stretching out your legs and inadvertently brushing his clothed thighs with your feet. He looked down, noticing the heel of your foot pressing into the fabric covering his thighs, dangerously close to his bulge. Ed groaned under his breath, you were too distracted by your attempt to get comfy to notice. His eyes widened and he froze, seemingly unable to move over you, into the position you desired.

"Ready Eddie." you said, chuckling at your own joke. But he didn't respond. You looked back over your shoulder to see him, yet again, staring at you. His eyes traveled up your body to meet your patronising gaze, you raised an eyebrow, silently calling him out for staring.
"Admiring." He unknowingly corrected you. You couldn't help but notice he seemed distracted, was he... turned on? You'd never seen pure lust in his eyes before, it was usually masked by his artistic eye, searching for his next muse. He spent every day over the last few weeks focused on your naked body and not a twitch. Now the situation wasn't professional, it was personal, deeply personal. You stopped contemplating and decided it was time. You did just invite him to fuck you after all.

"Hop on." you said playfully, blindly reaching back for his hand.
"I can't." he said, watching your hand reach out and flop with no luck.
"I'm aroused." he admitted, looking down at his crotch then back up at you, awaiting your response.
"That's okay, I'm sure I can control myself." you mocked. "Just hop on... I'm ready Eddie, for all of you." you reiterated in a flirty tone. He nodded and gave in, moving over you, straddling your ass and inadvertently pressing himself against you. Fuck, he was big. You hadn't considered his size before, only now realising that it makes sense, it's always the quiet ones. You gasped, pulling your wandering hand back to cover your mouth, in an attempt to muffle your arousal. He grabbed your wrist before you did. He's too good.
"No (y/n), loosen your lips... communicate with me darling." Ed breathed out, struggling to contain his excitement. You throbbed at his words.

"Do you think I'll be able to take you... all of you?" you asked, peering back over your shoulder again to look at his throbbing crotch and then up at his face. He raised an eyebrow, "Is that what you want?" he asked. You stayed quiet, writhing underneath him, arching your back slightly and rubbing your wetness against the fabric covering his cock. He grew inpatient at your teasing so asked again.
"Do you want me to fuck you (y/n)?" He mumbled in a low voice pressing harder to gain a response.
"Oh-" you gasped in shock
"Your verbal consent darling, that's all I ne-" You cut him off.
"Yes da- Eddie..." shit. Maybe he didn't notice? Or- To your surprise you felt him twitch and run a hand up your bare back, into your hair. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and wrapped it around his hand, pulling your head back slightly to look up at him.
"Did you just call me daddy?" he grumbled, his words vibrating against your lips as he hovered above you.
"No..." you lied. He reached back and slid his other hand up your thigh.
"Liar." he whispered, leaning into your ear. His voice sent shivers up your spine and your thighs clenched in response, letting a moan escape your lips.
"Okay I lied..." you admitted, your heart still racing from the euphoria he filled you with.
"Ah, the truth, a good choice. Always knew you were a good girl, shall we?" He asked, smiling and releasing your hair carefully. He leaned over to grab his massage oil from the draw next to the sofa and worked it into his hands. Unbeknownst to Ed, you were pulsing at his every word, his touch, you wanted him so bad. He continued to rub his hands together, able to ignore his own sexual urges and focus on your body that was clearly in need of his experienced hands. You sunk into the sofa, laying face down and humming in anticipation.