eli-21 poses for Caravaggio

eli-21

Caravaggio


9


meimei42

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Caravaggio is one of those fics that when you read the summary you think “I’m in!”


Bella's parents have commissioned a painting to be done of her. She is in for a shock when that artist is a man named Edward Cullen. He's too smooth and too good looking. It's not long before Bella is taking her clothes off for him.

Exactly. You would think this is the typical artist-model story, except that it’s not.

Bella is a seventeen-year-old student, and her parents—especially her mother—are people who like to show off and imitate their neighbors, so they decide to make their daughter pose for a portrait that will be shown the day of her eighteenth birthday. She despises the idea, but when she finally receives the painter at her house, she changes her mind.

Because how can you refuse a sexy, James Dean-y, young artist who wants to have you pose nude for a painting?

The writing is impeccable, in my opinion. Throughout the first few interactions between Bella and Edward, we can see that there’s definitely a connection, and one of the best lemons I’ve ever read happens when he’s painting her nude, on her bed (it was nominated for a Golden Lemon).

We don’t know what’s going through Edward’s mind in Chapter 9, because the whole story is written in Bella’s POV, and we only see her version of Edward, but that’s enough to get the reader into the scene. At this point, Bella and Edward have already been intimate, but he’s reluctant to having a romantic relationship.
It’s no surprise that she feels insecure when she arrives at his apartment and there’s a naked woman posing for him. He sets things clear and lets her decide.


"If you want to stick around and have some fun with me, Bella, then stay, but that's all I can offer you. Staying in bed all day, making you scream my name until your voice is hoarse. That, I can do, but the rest… the rest is off limits."

Well if you put it that way…

She stays. And when he demands…


"I said, tell me what you want me to do to you. In detail. We said we were going to spend the whole day in my bed, so where do you want to start?"

She obliges.


"I want you to touch me. Everywhere. I want you to use your hand to make me come."

And when he insists…


"And after I make you come, Bella, what should I do then? We have all night, remember?" he said, again taking a step closer to me. I could reach out and touch him if I wanted to.

"Then I want you to let me taste you again," I said, gaining a little confidence.

"I want to go down on you until you scream my name."

That’s what I was talking about.

Of course, they quickly are naked and laying in bed, and soon her wishes come true; his hands impregnated in massage oil are touching her everywhere.


"I don't really like massages," I said, shaking my head even as Edward grabbed me to roll me on my stomach.

"You will like this massage, Bella. Trust me."

And I did trust him. For whatever reason, I was putting my faith in this man's hands.

I felt cool liquid dribble on my back for a moment before I felt his hands on me. Side by side, they nearly covered the entire expanse of my back. Ever so slowly, I felt his hands begin to move, up and around, making small circles and kneading gently into my back tissue. As his hands moved over my shoulder blade, pressing gently into them, I moaned.

But this is only the beginning. With a few words, meimei42 makes it clear: Bella is horny. And Edward hasn’t touched her there yet! He tortures her in the best of ways until he makes her roll over and starts the massaging process all over again.


When Edward finally seemed ready, he gently rubbed me right where I needed to be touched. My hips bucked into his hand, and he obliged me by sliding two fingers inside. I hissed and threw my head back into the pillow. "Edward," I begged. He smiled, and began to move his hand, rubbing his thumb across my apex to drive me even wilder.

Is it me or it’s gotten really hot in here? Wait, he has more to say.


"You didn't say my mouth though," he mused as his assault continued. "I wonder why that is."

Yes, me too. However, she wanted one more thing, remember? After the first earth-shattering climax, it’s her turn to give.


When I came down, I could see the amused smile on his face and, not even giving myself time to recuperate, I sat up and shoved him back on the bed, straddling him before he could stop me.

"Feisty," he whispered.

"You have no idea." I grabbed at the button and zipper of his jeans and undid them. I couldn't have drawn this out if I tried, still too wound up over the delicious torture he had just inflicted on me. Once I had that undone, I moved to slid off him so I could get his pants down, but Edward stopped me.

He’s an artist, creative by nature, so he decides to give a twist to the position.


"Just turn around," he said, "face the other way."

"Why?"

"Just do it," he urged.

I gave him a dirty look for ordering me around, but did as he said, turning to face the other way so I was hovering above his chest.

See, the wonderful thing about the authors who write in one single POV is that we can’t know exactly what the other character is thinking, but we can sense their intentions, even when the main character has no idea.


I pushed the fact that I was practically sitting on his face aside, and focused my attention on him. I reached out to touch him again and he hissed once more, but I didn't let go this time. Instead, I leaned forward more and slowly snaked my tongue out between my lips to get a taste of him.
As I did, I felt Edward's lips press into my upper thigh, dangerously close to my center. I gasped and sat up a little.

"Relax," he coaxed, his hands rubbing up and down my backside.

"What are you doing?"

"It's called sixty-nining," he explained.

Sixty-nine. I'd heard that number before from classmates. Joking around when it was in people's phone numbers or they hit that question number on a test. I hadn't really gotten it, except I knew it signified sex in some way. Picturing the number in my head and the position I was in now, I suddenly understood.

"Okay," I said, leaning forward again. I darted my tongue out against his length and Edward did the same to me, sending shivers down my body. So this was the game we were playing. It was on. I took Edward in my mouth, and the moment I did, I felt his on me with full force. I nearly had to release him; the need to cry out was so bad. I didn't though, refusing to give him the satisfaction. Instead, I threw myself into giving him the best blow job I could. It was hard to concentrate when he was doing these things to my body, but it had to be hard for him, too. With that in mind, I plunged him as far down my throat as I could without gagging and nearly pumped my fist in the air with triumph when he had to stop what he was doing to me for a moment to call out my name.

Amazing. The author is switching the roles now, bringing us a girl-woman who feels powerful giving pleasure to her lover, in contrast to the previous massage scene, when he took the lead.


I think that was when he realized that this was a challenge, and redoubled his efforts. His tongue dove into me and I screamed out, not expecting it to feel so good. He seemed to realize that was a hot spot for me, and soon I could barely hold myself up as he assaulted it over and over with his tongue until I was panting his name and quivering with need. I was on the cusp when his mouth shifted and lashed out against my clit, sending me into overdrive.

My legs shook as I came, and I nearly collapsed on top of him.

"You win," I breathed out, exhausted.

GAH. He always does, doesn’t he? *grin*

I think that the fact that she compares the sixty-nine position to a contest to see who has better oral skills makes the scene less mechanic and more interesting.

Great job.

There’s more to it, but I’ll leave you to discover for yourself. Go read Caravaggio if you haven’t already and send meimei42 some love. NOW!

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