Chapter 3 #3
The image of Theo, on his knees, hands on his thighs while he stared at her with such adoration, mask and all, filled Calliope’s psyche, and she let out an unavoidable groan.
“Theo...” she breathed his name, her lustful voice strange to her own ears after so long. It was like she was someone else, for the moment anyway.
Calliope wrapped her arms around him, her clutched phone dragging along his back as she tightened her grip on it in her hand while getting lost in his sweet, perfect kiss once more. She only let up when the sound of a blaring horn honked and the driver started yelling at them to get in.
Ah, that must be our ride.
The two of them parted for a moment, if only to catch their breaths. “Come, Theo,” Calliope muttered, dragging Theo across the pavement. He stumbled a bit before letting go, if only to open the door for her to get in.
“After you, Callie,” he said, the sound of her name on his tongue like music to her ears.
Callie’s grin brightened from the polite gesture, as it seemed men nowadays did not go out of their way to show their manners anymore and she could not deny this pleased her.
But politeness was forgotten the moment they got into the car, the heat rising between them as Theo settled on the backseat next to her, shutting the door.
Not a moment sooner was Calliope pulling Theo back to her lips, her fingers finding his neck once more.
He did not fight her forwardness, and for that, she was rather grateful.
Instead, he parted his lips, groaning in submission as she slid her tongue into his mouth.
He tasted like sugar and coconut cream. Combined with his spicy, earthy scent, it was quite an intoxicating cocktail all on its own.
Calliope let herself slip once more, losing herself in the feel of his tongue in her mouth, his pulse beneath her palm. The spark inside her grew and the desire, the hunger inside of her grew with it.
The spark was always relentless, always seeking more, greedy like a spoiled child. It’s never enough. It will never be enough, because no one will ever worship me. For me.
Humans were always drawn to a muse, like moths to a flame.
Whether they knew it or not, their bodies, their souls craved what Calliope and other muses could give them.
They worshipped the gifts they received, not the muse themselves.
Humans only desired their spark of inspiration, the magic that would change their lives forever.
A number one single.
A masterpiece of art.
A bestselling novel.
But no one had ever, truly worshipped Calliope. She thought David was different. Thought that he wanted her beneath all of the gifts and inspiration she had given him. She thought he’d do anything for her. But she was wrong.
I’m probably wrong about Theo, too. And perhaps that’s truly my curse. I always know better, but desire is a demon that is too hard to fight.
So she did not fight it. Not one bit.
Calliope let Theo pull her into his lap in the back of the car, reveling in the momentary high as his mouth traveled along her neck, as his hands slid underneath her toga.
She let him slam her against her door, his mouth kissing every inch of her face, neck, and chest he could reach as they stumbled across her threshold, eliciting sighs of pleasure and wonder from her throat as his quick hands slid beneath the cool fabric of her costume and lifted her up.
His hands settled beneath her thighs, grabbing her ass as he squeezed lightly, and she wrapped her legs around him.
He held her tight, through his stumbling as he carried her into her apartment, her motion lights turning on and bathing them both in faint illumination.
With Theo’s hands on her, everything felt right in a way it hadn’t felt in a long time.
He set her down, if only to adjust his evident hardness, and Calliope bit her lip as she took in the sight of him, here in her apartment like this.
His dark hair falling over his mask, the faintest sheen of sweat on his neck.
His dress pants pulling tight and the vivid outline of his cock.
The spark inside her flourished into a flame as she felt the desire in her veins thrumming beneath the surface.
Calliope took one step forward, pushing Theo back against the arm of her couch as she made to unbutton his shirt, taking his mouth once more against her own.
He parted his lips for her, giving her access to his tongue once more as she undressed him hastily.
He shrugged off his shirt, her hands sliding over his hardened chest. But Theo made no move to grind himself against her or push her.
Instead, his hands reverently worked at untying her sashes as she shimmied out of her toga until she was left in nothing but her strapless bra and panties.
She slid her hands across his hips, pulling him and his hardness against her as they continued to kiss and touch one another, their hands moving of their own possessed accord.
Calliope unbuttoned his pants with rampant attention, and Theo stumbled beneath her as he all but hopped out of his pants, strewing them across the floor.
Calliope felt emblazoned by the sight of this perfect man and she could not help the heat flushing her body or the excitement she felt under his sensual gaze.
She settled her hands on his hips, pulling him, leading him like a lamb to the slaughter.
And perhaps, in a way, he was nothing but a lamb.
A naive, darling little creature, and she was quite the vicious wolf in the midst of her spark’s desire.
Theo did not protest or hesitate as he followed her lead into her bedroom.
In the light of her studio apartment, her bedroom, his skin looked almost golden, his muscles standing out with perfect definition.
Calliope’s gaze traveled across his pecs, down to his chiseled hips and his perfect Adonis belt and his evident bulge in his tight, dark blue briefs.
In combination with his mask, he looked like something out of her wildest dreams.
Oh Gods, is he perfect.
“Tell me what you want, Callie,” he whispered as he took two steps toward her, backing her into the room. His voice was soft, hazy, but full of hope she could not refute. It was a rather intoxicating sound, those words on his tongue.
“I want to look at you,” she whispered as she looked up at him from beneath her mask. She sucked in a breath, carefully grazing her fingers along the side of his mask.
“May I?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, despite the fact no one else could hear them. But there was a vulnerability, a sort of tension in the air because she knew the moment she truly saw him, it would be over. There would be no way she could forget him.
And perhaps that was the most dangerous choice of all.
Theo nodded, swallowing harshly. “I told you,” he murmured. “All you have to do is ask.”
Calliope watched as he licked his lips and she gracefully settled her fingers on the sides of his mask. The cool plastic against her fingertips melded with the heat beneath her skin as she gently removed his mask, letting it fall to the floor as she gazed upon him, truly for the first time.
He was just as attractive as she knew he would be, and suddenly the voice and the boyish charm fit.
He was breathtaking, a perfect design of timeless masculinity and innocence.
His dark hair fell over his brow, those bright verdant eyes of his sharper against the contrast of his golden-kissed skin.
Calliope’s fingers trailed over his cheeks, down his jaw, over his lips.
His hand hovered over the sides of her mask and she noticed the slight shake.
“May I?” he asked carefully. “Look at you?”
Calliope nodded without hesitation. “Yes.” Her gaze implored him. “I think I would like that,” she whispered.
He pushed her hair back and carefully removed her mask, and she didn’t miss the glimmer of excitement, of hope in his gaze as he did so. He let out a heavy sigh, saying nothing for a moment as he stared at her, and Calliope started to worry something was wrong.
His gaze held hers as he finally spoke.
“You are so fucking beautiful. I knew you would be, but...”
It certainly wasn’t the first time a man or a woman had praised Calliope’s eternal youth. The words shouldn’t have lit her up the way they did, but it was the way Theo said them. Like a prayer.
“So are you,” she whispered with a soft smirk as she reached out and trailed her fingertips along his jaw, over his plump lips, down his chest. They moved of their own volition, tracing the shape of his exquisite form.
I bet he would look beautiful spread over a chaise, cast in shadow and light.
She felt the faintest tingle in her fingertips, a familiar energy pooling in her core, in her heart.
And then she moved her fingertips across his prominent bulge, sucking in a breath of her own as she felt the rigidity of his arousal.
Theo once more made no move to push her or grind against her like she expected him to. Instead, he waited. Patiently. And it was at that moment, Calliope realized he was nervous, waiting for her assurance, her guidance. Her lead.
And that realization in itself was rather inspiring.
“Tell me what you want, Calliope,” he whispered once more, imploring her gaze as his hands slid over her bra carefully. He trailed his fingertips over the smooth cups, his thumbs brushing the cool fabric, making her nipples twitch beneath the surface.
In all her years, with all her patrons, all the flames of her life, not one man or woman had ever asked Calliope what she wanted.
There were a hundred things she could have told Theo, but the thought of baring her soul the way she truly wanted to, even now, was too much.
Though she did want to tell him the truth, she feared that telling this man such things would only break her heart in the process because she knew he couldn’t give her what she truly wanted.
No one could.