Page 27 of Muse (The Forbidden Hearts #1)

SOPHIE

H ours pass before we finally rise from the couch and stretch out our limbs.

We’d been tangled up in each other all day, binge watching episode after episode, only moving when Winnie needed to go out.

Otherwise, we’d stayed wrapped up in each other under cozy blankets, our bodies practically molding into one.

Pretending like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

I’d tried my best to keep my commentary on the show to a minimum, but it was a struggle. I’m a talker when watching TV, but Theo… definitely is not.

He shushed me a few times, playfully of course, especially when I’d come dangerously close to spoiling a major plot twist. I’d just given him a little shrug, adding in some puppy dog eyes, and he’d forgiven me instantly.

And then he invited me to stay the night again. I almost squealed with excitement.

Cue the internal fireworks. Absolutely, yes.

I text my parents, giving a quick excuse for why I’d be staying at Sal’s again, and got an instant okay. They didn’t ask questions. Honestly, I think they are happy to have me out of the house. Maybe they’re as relieved by my absence as I am to be gone.

The thought stings more than I’d like to admit.

“I need a shower,” I say, my eyes meeting Theo’s.

“So do I.” He says with a smirk. “Want some company?”

Oh my god. My heart slams in my chest. “Yes.” I say, a little too eagerly.

I’ve never done that before. Showered with someone intimately. Stood completely bare in front of someone in the bright light. With Cole, it was always in dark rooms or the back seat of a car… we’d never been afforded such privacy as this.

But the thought of doing it with Theo? It feels exciting and thrilling. And also terrifying.

He takes my hand in his, leading me upstairs and flicking the bathroom light on. He pulls off his shirt with casual ease, and suddenly the nerves hit like a punch to the gut. The reality of peeling off my clothes, standing here in the harsh light, naked and vulnerable… It makes my stomach twist.

I want him. Fuck, I want this . But what if he looks at me differently once he sees all of me in the harsh light of day? What if he notices the flaws I try so hard to hide?

He senses my hesitation, pausing instantly. “Hey, we don’t have to do this. I’m sorry, I’m moving too fast. I’ll let you shower?—”

He moves to leave the room, but I grab his bicep, stopping him in his tracks.

“No, I uh…” I swallow hard, my voice barely above a whisper. Wanting to tell him the truth, but feeling scared to admit it at the same time. “I’m just nervous. I’m scared you won’t like what you see. That I won’t be enough.”

He cups my face with both hands, tilting my head back. His eyes burn into mine.

“Sophie,” he says, voice low but sure. “You are so goddamn beautiful it hurts. Every inch of you. Every flaw you think you have, I love and adore.”

My throat tightens, tears burning the backs of my eyes. Damn him and his perfect words. They settle into the deepest parts of me, softening my insides. He didn’t say he loved me, but it felt like it. And I read into it. Of course I do.

I nod, fingers slipping to the hem of my shirt. His shirt. I lift it slowly, fighting the urge to drop it back down, hesitating only for a moment before pulling it over my head. Theo stands still, letting me set the pace. His eyes stay on my face, not letting them wander. And I love him for that.

When the shirt hits the floor, he follows suit, stripping bare. He stands there in all his glory. Beautiful. His strong legs are corded with muscle, his torso toned but not overly so. And when I glance down…

Oh my god.

My eyes widen at the sight of his cock. Thick and long, veins pulsing in its already hardened state. A million thoughts race through my mind. How is that supposed to fit? What if I mess this up? What if I’m too inexperienced and he realizes this is a mistake?

He reaches out slowly, taking my hand in his, and turns to crank up the water. I step in first, the spray hot and comforting as it cascades down my back. He follows me in, wrapping his arms around me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He grabs a bottle of shampoo from the ledge and pours it into his hands, working it into a lather.

And then his hands move to my head and I inhale sharply as he works the soap into my hair, his touch gentle and sensual.

Such an intimate act, and yet he does it effortlessly.

I’m not used to being touched like this.

With such care and intention. It’s overwhelming, in the best way.

When he’s done, having rinsed my hair with careful precision, he grabs a bar of soap and begins to wash me.

His hands glide over every curve, down my arms, over my breasts…

lingering there just a moment longer than necessary.

My breath catches in my throat, his touch sending electricity through my body.

My nipples harden, and I can see how it affects him, his breathing growing heavier by the second.

He trails lower, his hands mapping every inch of my body, my hips, my thighs… when he drops to his knees, I nearly crumble before him. The look in his eyes is one of worship.

“You’re fucking perfect, Sophie.”

And I die, right there. I’m done for.

His hands find purchase on my hips, gripping them firmly. He pulls me forward, his lips feathering lightly over my stomach, my thighs, everywhere within reach. And then he’s there, tongue on my clit, and I gasp, my body arching into him.

His grip tightens as he lifts one of my legs over his shoulder, anchoring me against the wall for support. And then he fucking devours me, like a starved animal finally getting a meal.

Every flick of his tongue sends a moan vibrating through me. He’s relentless and has me unravelling more every second. When I come, it’s with a sob, his name on my lips. My whole body shaking with waves of pleasure.

He stands, wrapping me in his strong arms again. I hold onto him, still riding out the euphoria. His cock, hard and pulsing, presses against my stomach, and I can’t help it. I move against him, slowly. Teasing him. He groans. The sound enticing me to do more. I want to make him come.

I push him back with one hand, the other finding his cock. I lightly skim my fingertips over it, enjoying the shiver it sends through his body. I trace the veins that run down his length, licking my lips in anticipation.

I drop to my knees before him, not letting the nerves creep in. I’ve done this before, but with him… it’s different. He has so much experience, and I want to impress him. Please him. What if I mess this up ?

“You don’t have to, Trouble…” he says, his voice gravelly.

“I want to,” I whisper. And I mean it.

Tipping my head back, I flatten my tongue, placing his hard cock against it. I lick up slowly, from base to tip, relishing in the groan that slips from his lips.

“Soph… Fuck.”

His words spur me on, infusing me with confidence. I love the taste of him. I take him fully into my mouth, into my throat. I work him with my tongue, using my hand where my lips can’t reach, and his whole body trembles with pleasure.

He holds back until he can’t any longer, his fingers threading through my hair, guiding me but never forcing. Never pushing me past what I can handle. When he finally comes, my name is a broken curse from his lips, and I almost come again at the sound of it.

I feel like a goddess. On my knees before him, but completely in control.

He pulls me up into his embrace. And we stand there, in the seemingly endless heat. The water cascading over our bodies. He positions us so that I’m directly under the spray, leaving his back exposed to the cold air. But he doesn’t seem to mind, doesn’t complain.

When he turns off the water and wraps me up in a fluffy towel, I’m still floating on cloud nine. He dries my hair with gentle hands and then grabs one for himself, wrapping it tightly around his waist.

“Come on, Trouble. Let’s get you dressed.”

In his room, he retrieves a large, long-sleeve tee. He pulls it over my head and the smell of him surrounds me. I want to bury myself in it. He tosses on black sweats, leaving his chest bare.

“Want pizza? I can order delivery.”

“Yes! Sounds absolutely perfect.” I grin.

“What toppings do you like? ”

“Pepperoni and jalapeno. Though I’ll eat just about anything except sardines or pineapple.”

He gasps, an expression of mock outrage on his face. “Pineapple and sardine pizza is my favorite.”

“It is not!” I say, bursting into laughter.

But he keeps a straight face, shaking his head solemnly. “It is. Truly. A delicacy.”

My laughter dies in my throat. “Wait… is it really?”

Finally, he cracks a smile, his dimple appearing in his cheek. “Hell no, that sounds disgusting. But I couldn’t resist.”

I grab a throw pillow from the bed and chuck it at him. He catches it effortlessly and tosses it back. It smacks me square in the face. Quick reflexes are something I do not possess.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” His expression is pained, suddenly serious.

I wave him off. “It’s okay, I promise. It weighs, like, half a pound.”

I smile, letting him know it’s truly okay.

He nods before grabbing his phone, pulling up a food delivery app. I watch his fingers as they tap over the screen, ordering us a large pizza, some boneless wings, and a bottle of Coke at my request. At the last moment, he adds two slices of New York cheesecake, and I squeal with excitement.

“Those are my faves!”

“Mine too.” He smiles. “Twinning. Isn’t that what the cool kids say?”

“Oh my god. Stop. You’re such a dork!” I say, shaking my head and smiling so wide my cheeks ache.

You’d never know it when out in public with him, all dark and broody. But here, with me, he’s letting his inner self shine through. And I love every bit of it.

We head downstairs, inviting my new favorite pup to join us as we resume our positions on the couch. I hit play on the next episode of our show, and we eat and laugh and exist in this little bubble of paradise we’ve made.

I spend the night again, wrapped up in his arms, curled up together in his bed. He doesn’t make any further moves, and our clothes stay on our bodies. We just enjoy the time together, and if it wasn’t for Sal, I’d quickly be calling him my best friend.

Every moment with him is easy, fun, intimate. And this weekend has been the definition of bliss. Here in his house, we get to escape the weight of reality outside of the walls. Here, we are free to be together. Here, we can be us.

Sunday morning comes too quickly, though, and I know I have to return home. I’ve been gone all weekend.

We eat breakfast together, Theo having made piles of pancakes with whip cream and fresh berries. My black coffee sits ready for me when I come down the stairs. His cooking is incredible, I could fall for him for that alone.

And… I may be. Falling for him, that is. But I don’t dare say those words aloud.

He insists on driving me to my car, even though I’d offered to walk. He opens the door and checks the street. When he sees it’s clear, he kisses me. Soft and quick, yet still heart-stopping.

“Goodbye, Trouble. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Theo.”

And then I drive off, heading home, heart hammering in my chest. Knowing tomorrow we will have to pretend this isn’t real, that we don’t exist. But we do, and it is. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.