Forbidden Passion

Chapter 15 The Occupied Heart

Theodore walked towards her amidst the scattered golden rays of light, seeing her trembling so violently that he reached out to touch her. "What's wrong with you, are you sick?"

"Slap!"

Phoebe slapped away his hand, staggering back two steps. "Don't touch me!"

The atmosphere suddenly froze.

Theodore's hand froze in mid-air, a red mark immediately appearing on the clear bones of the back of his hand. In his calm and tranquil eyes, waves of shock and turmoil surged. He took a step forward, grabbed her wrist, and pinned her against the wall, hot breath pouring over her. "What, you don't want me to touch you, then who do you want to touch?" Phoebe bit her lip, turning her face to the side. The man's breath tickled her neck, making her tremble uncontrollably.

In the thin summer clothes, with her head turned like this, the defined lines of her neck resembled a swan waiting to be slaughtered, giving rise to the most primitive desires in humans. Theodore's eyes grew fierce, his breath becoming rapid.

His lips pressed against her fair and slender neck, the skin underneath trembling incessantly, a faint hint of fragrance lingering around his nose. It was her scent, carrying a slight warmth and a hint of sweetness. He became entranced by this fragrance, unable to free himself.

Suddenly, the suppressed sobbing of a woman reached his ears, causing Theodore's entire body to tremble. He slowly lifted his head, his gaze scalded by the tears on her face.

He pursed his lips and said harshly, "Why cry, do you hate being intimate with me so much?"

As soon as he said these words, he was angered by his own words.

Hating being touched by him, because she still held Edward in her heart. She really knows how to dig into his heart.

"Teddy, you bastard!" Phoebe forcefully pushed him, despite heris slim figure. She pushed again, but he didn't budge. Determined, she pushed even harder.

Her face turned red, but she still couldn't move him an inch.

Theodore held her chin, his gaze sinister. "I may not be as good at pleasing you as Edward, but Phoebe, even if I'm a bastard, I am still your husband. Remember that."

let go of her

the door slammed shut, shaking the room. Phoebe slid down to the ground, leaning against the wall, feeling utterly powerless. She covered her face with her hands, tears wetting her

his clothes and emerged from the bedroom. The living room was filled with the fragrant aroma of white rice porridge. He

the entrance, he walked into the dining room where Phoebe sat, having breakfast. He sat

bowl," he commanded with a

Phoebe remained seated and replied in a firm voice,

confidently, "but you are

"..." was dazzled by his

can anyone

the kitchen to pour a bowl of steaming hot white porridge. The freshly cooked porridge emitted a tantalizing steam,

head and took a sip, then glanced

of her eye. He quickly looked away and cleared his throat. "It's Mom's birthday in

years, and Mom's birthday comes every year.

It wasn't that she forgot, but these past few days were just too busy,

on his face. Then he added, "Perfect, I haven't prepared anything either. Let's

reluctantly agreed but the meaningful smug expression creeped

with the

in her chest and didn't want to sit at the same table with him. She intended to finish her meal quickly and leave. However, in her haste, she ended up scalding herself with the piping boiling hot porridge. Before Theodore could say "careful", he saw her stick out her tongue, inhaling sharply. He was simultaneously annoyed and amused. "Why are you eating so fast? No

and poured a glass of cold water, handing it to her. Seeing her tongue sticking out as it cooled off, pink and delicate, unexpectedly

cold water,"

at him, finding his voice somehow husky. She took the

subsided, leaving a slight numbness. She thanked him with a lowered head and continued to eat

time to time. He hadn't noticed before, but now he saw that there was gauze taped

panic she felt when she was

small wound won't kill me. It has already