Whispered Prayers of a Girl

by Alex Grayson

  The cups of her bra come down next, and the sight of her bare breasts, soaking wet from the rain pouring down on us, is something I’ll never forget if I live a thousand lifetimes.

  I dip my head and take the pretty pink nipple in my mouth. I suck greedily at it and receive a cry of pleasure in reward. I flick the sensitive nub with my tongue, then tug it gently between my teeth. I release her, then give the same treatment to her other nipple.

  I lift my head and look up. Sensing my eyes on her, she lifts her head from the truck and peers down at me. She looks so fucking beautiful with rain sliding down her flushed face, her hair stuck to her cheeks, and her eyes glistening with desire. I could look at her all day and never get enough.

  Her hands leave my hair and she cups my face. I’m floored, and if I’m honest, scared, when I see the love shining in her eyes as she stares down at me. I feel it too, even if I shouldn’t, even if it’s not right. With everything I am, with every breath I take, and every beat of my heart. That’s how much I love this woman. I don’t know when or how it happened, but it’s undeniable, indescribable, and unbreakable.

  “Take me inside,” she whispers.

  My decision is made before the words fully leave her mouth. There’s no way I can deny her, or me, for that matter. I want her too much, and from the look in her eyes, she wants me just as badly. But not against a fucking car with rain pelting down around us and her lips turning blue from the cold. I’ll take her like she deserves. In a warm bed with soft sheets and a gentle touch.

  “Hold on tight to me, baby, and don’t let go.” The words mean so much more than her legs gripping my waist. I never want her to let me go, because I’ll never be able to let her go. I’m still scared shitless that I’ll let her down somehow, that I’ll not be there when she needs me the most, but my heart demands I take the chance.

  Her legs tighten around me, and with my hands on her ass, I turn and walk us toward the house, up the steps, and through the door. I don’t stop until my knees hit the bed, and I gently set her down. Her gorgeous blue eyes stare up at me as I reach back and pull off my soaked shirt. Her gaze travels down and it’s not revulsion I see when she looks at my scarred chest, but blatant desire. It still amazes me that she’s never seen my scars as hideous.

  I slide her coat and ruined shirt down her arms. Her stomach isn’t perfectly flat like some women strive for. It has a slight curve, but it’s firm. When I unclasp her bra and the cups fall away from her breasts, they look perfect, even though some would say they aren’t, because they sag slightly due to her carrying babies. I think she looks completely fucking flawless.

  She watches me with lusty eyes as I take in her beauty for a minute. Her hands are at her sides, and I love that she doesn’t try to cover herself. She shouldn’t and it would be a shame if she tried.

  I drop to my knees in front of her and wedge my hips between her legs. I scoot her closer to the edge of the bed until her warm pussy meets my stomach. I kiss her soft lips and wrap my arms around her tight. She does the same by putting her arms around my neck. Her breasts feel cool against my chest and it sends a shiver through me. Not from the coolness, but from simply having her bare skin against mine.

  I pull back and rain kisses across her cheek, down her neck, and over her breasts, until I reach one nipple. I take the tip in my mouth and suck gently. I not only hear her moan, but also feel the vibrations of it against my mouth.

  After paying the same attention to her other nipple, I release her and slide my hands to the front of her jeans. Lifting my eyes, I ask, “Are you sure?”

  She nods. “I’ve never been more sure,” she says breathlessly.

  I don’t take my eyes off her as I unbutton and unzip her jeans. Gripping the waistband, she lifts her hips. With the material wet, it takes a minute to slide the denim down her legs. She runs her fingers through my hair when I kiss the tops of her thighs, moving closer to her center. I can smell her and it drives me crazy. The need to taste her is almost uncontrollable, but it’ll have to come later. I need inside her too much. I need to take her and make her mine.

  I grip the edge of her panties and pull them down her legs. Her pretty pussy is right there in front of my eyes, and I want to devour it whole. With my fingers, my tongue, and my cock.

  My shaft jerks in my jeans, begging to be the first. I stand and make quick work of my pants and briefs. The heat of Gwen’s stare and the uncertainty of what she’ll think once I show her the rest of my scars, has me holding still once I’m completely naked. My leg is more damaged than the rest of my body. I’ve had multiple surgeries and skin grafts. With the amount of my body burned and the limited skin that was left to use for grafting, the doctors felt it was best to work on my face, chest, and arm first, then see if it was still possible to do my leg. Once my face and chest were done, there wasn’t much available flesh left to use, so my leg got the shit end of the deal.

  I have my hands balled into fists when Gwen sees the brutal scars running up and down my leg. The gruesome sight would make even the strongest sick to their stomach.

  Not Gwen though. She looks at the gnarled flesh and her eyes fill with tears, not disgust. She looks up at me for a brief second, then reaches out with a shaky hand and places her palm on my thigh. Again, it surprises me when I feel her touch the instant her hand lands on me. The feeling in my thigh is more limited than in my arm, so the shock has me sucking in a sharp breath.

  When she hears my hiss of breath, she snatches her hand away and looks up at me.

  “Please,” I growl. “Touch me.”

  Her eyes go back to my leg and her hand reaches out again. She starts at my hip, and with a look of deep concentration, slowly runs her hand down my thigh to my knee. Her eyes follow the movement and her brow puckers when she comes across a particularly ugly patch of skin. Not once do her eyes tell me she’s appalled by the sight.

  I hold my breath and lock my knees when she leans forward and rests her lips against the nasty-looking scars, then starts kissing them. Something as beautiful as her should never be so close to something as abhorrent as my scars, but I can’t pull her away. I’m mesmerized by the sight of her worshipping them, and it feels so fucking good.

  When she moves closer to my hip, I can’t help my body’s reaction. My cock jumps and a bead of precum forms on the tip.

  “Fuck, Gwen,” I groan. My hands lace through her thick locks of hair and force her face up. “I can’t wait anymore.”

  She scoots back on the bed, her legs bent, but open, showing off the part of her I want so damn much.

  “Make love to me, Alexander,” she whispers, lifting one hand toward me.

  Putting a knee on the bed, I twine my fingers with hers and lift her wrist to my mouth, kissing the soft skin. I settle my weight over her and her smooth legs wrap around my waist. With her hand still in mine, I set my hands on each side of her head. My chest meets hers, and her pointy nipples graze my pecs. I gaze down at her and see nothing but adoration in her eyes. The tip of my shaft slides against her wet pussy, and I force myself not to surge forward.

  “I don’t have protection,” I tell her regretfully.

  She shakes her head. “I’m on the pill, and I haven’t….” She stops and swallows hard. “I haven’t been with anyone since Will.”

  I didn’t realize until now how much I want to take her without anything between us. I want to feel her against me, in the most natural way possible.

  It’s no surprise she hasn’t been with anyone since her husband died. I learned from our talks recently that she hasn’t dated since Will died. Why she chose me to end her celibacy, I’ll never understand.

  “I haven’t been with anyone either.”

  I refuse to say her name. She doesn’t belong here with us right now. I’m not sure I could get it past my lips even if I tried anyway.

  “Are you sure?” I ask, needing Gwen to be completely certain. It’s a big step to trust someone enough to have sex without protection.

  She n
ods and emphasizes her answer by lifting her hips, rubbing her wetness against my hard cock. I bare my teeth and hiss at the contact.

  Lifting my body, I look down as I grip the base of my cock and line up the tip. As soon as the head breaches her tight heat, my balls draw up, and I’m on the verge of exploding. I grit my teeth and force back my orgasm as I slowly sink inside her, unwilling to let it end so quickly.

  I drop my head in the crook of her neck and give myself a moment to calm the fuck down. Her muscles clamp around me, and I groan.

  “Shit, Gwen, you can’t do that,” I growl at her.

  “Please move,” she moans in response, shifting her legs against my hips. “I need you to move.”

  Pulling in a deep breath for restraint, I get to my elbows. I keep my eyes locked on her as I slowly pull my hips back, then rock forward again. Dropping my lips to hers, I kiss her as I keep a steady rhythm with my hips. Her whimpers against my mouth and the tightening of her pussy tell me she’s already close, and I thank fuck for that, because I don’t know how much longer I can hold on. We’ve barely begun, but with us both going so long without, it’s impossible for either to last.

  I speed up my thrusts and she cries against my lips as I hit a particularly sensitive spot. I home in on it and lift my head so I can see the pure rapture on her face. Her eyes are bright and unfocused, her cheeks a beautiful shade of pink, and her lips are swollen from my kisses and form an O as she pants.

  When she tips over the edge and strangles my dick with her channel, I swear I’ve reached heaven. Starting in the base of my shaft, my orgasm hits me hard and fast and has me yelling to the ceiling. My thrusts become frantic as we both ride waves of orgasmic pleasure.

  I drop my chest back to hers, making sure my weight doesn’t crush her. We lie there silently, simply trying to catch our breath. Her hands lazily rub up and down my slick back.

  After a moment, I lift my chest a few inches and gaze down at her. Sweat dampens her forehead and I push the wet strands away from her cheeks.

  “Hi,” she whispers with a shy smile.

  The look warms my heart, and I smile. “Hey.”

  I kiss her lips, then roll to my side and turn her to face me. Tangling my legs with hers, I put my arm around her waist and tug her a bit closer to me. I know my cum must be leaking out of her, and I’m sure it probably feels awkward, but I’m not ready to let her go just yet. I’ll grab a rag and clean her in a few minutes.

  As I lie there in the aftermath of one of the best moments of my life, I wonder how I got so lucky as to meet this incredible woman. This feeling I have deep in my gut is something I never want to relinquish. It’s not the sex talking. It’s something I felt the first moment I saw her, something I didn’t recognize at the time and still have a hard time naming even now.

  Love isn’t a strong enough word for what I feel for Gwen. It doesn’t even come close. What I feel for her is soul-deep and everlasting, a feeling that scares the ever-lovin’ hell out of me, but something I can’t deny any longer and will hold on to forever.

  Chapter 19

  Gwendolyn

  “Will you tell me about her?” I ask nervously.

  The hand caressing my hip stops, and I want to suck the words back in my mouth. I shouldn’t have asked. Now isn’t the time, and even if it was, he may not be ready. Although it’s been four years since they passed, the pain is still very raw. And for all I know, he may not ever want to talk to me about her.

  We’re still in bed after our lovemaking. The rain’s still pouring down and the wind has picked up, the former making a soothing rhythm against the roof. I’ve always loved the sound of rain hitting the roof.

  I lie with my head on his chest and my hand under my cheek. It’s been thirty minutes since we made love, and I’m still feeling the effects of pure bliss.

  I open my mouth to apologize and tell him he doesn’t need to talk about her, but he stops me before I can. His hand starts languidly rubbing circles on my hip again when he starts talking.

  “Clara was one of the sweetest women I’ve ever met. She was kindhearted and giving, and so beautiful.”

  I remember the picture from his drawer. She wasn’t beautiful, she was gorgeous.

  “She had these quirks. Like twirling her hair around her finger. Sometimes I’d find it annoying. Like when we were watching a movie. Her hand would keep going in and out of view, which was distracting. Other times, it would be endearing. She’d be doing it and for some reason, my eyes would catch on it, and I’d sit there for several minutes watching. She could do this thing where she could tie a strand of hair into a knot with just three fingers on the same hand.”

  My eyes drift up to him and I see a small smile playing on his face. His expression says he’s far away, lost in memories.

  “It was a habit she picked up from her mom and hoped our daughter would pick up as well.”

  The smile slowly drops from his face.

  “She was cold all the time and always had to have something on her feet. You’d never catch her without at least socks, but most times she had on some form of shoes. She and her family were from Florida, so it was a big adjustment for her when they moved here. I don’t think her body ever adjusted. She hated to be cold. At night, in bed, she’d always warm her icy feet by laying them flat against my calves.” He laughs at the memory.

  I love hearing him talking about her. She was such a big part of his life for so long. And I love that their love was so strong.

  “She loved cherry filling, like in a pie, but hated real cherries. It was the opposite with coconut. She hated anything with the flavor coconut, but loved coconut itself. She loved altering words. Instead of potato, she’d say tater, and for spaghetti, it was sketti.” His chuckle is quiet when he continues. “She’d get her words mixed up in the funniest of ways too. Like, she would try to say, I’m going to wash the car, and it would come out as I’m going to car the wash. Some were pretty entertaining.”

  I laugh lightly and tip my head back so I can see him. “She seems like she’d be fun to be around.”

  He looks down, then tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, letting his finger linger on my cheek.

  “She would have liked you,” he says warmly.

  “I’m sure I would have liked her too,” I tell him honestly.

  As much as it pains me to think I wouldn’t have Alexander in my life if Clara and Rayne were still here, it hurts even more knowing the pain he went through when he lost them. I’d rather give up my own happiness to ensure he still had his. I just hope one day he gives me the chance to make him as happy as Clara did.

  I kiss the center of his chest before flipping over and resting my arm across his stomach and laying my head on it. His arm hangs over my waist and he rests his hand against the base of my spine.

  “I’m sorry for scaring you earlier,” I say while running my fingers over the smooth scars on his chest. As gruesome as they may appear to some, I think they’re beautiful. It shows his strength and the story of his heartbreaking past.

  “What was so important that you would drive in such bad weather?"

  He stares down at me, and I can tell he’s still bothered. It warms my insides to know he cares enough that he worried about me. But then, I hate that he went through that reminded pain.

  “I wanted to see you.” I shift so I’m sitting up more, taking the sheet with me. “After talking with you on the phone for so long, I just felt a strong need to see you.”

  I drop my eyes, suddenly feeling exposed. Not physically, but mentally.

  He grabs my chin and forces my eyes back to his.

  “I know I overreacted, but the thought….” He closes his eyes for a moment, looking pained, before opening them again. “I can’t do it again, Gwen,” he finishes in an agonized whisper.

  I scoot closer to him. I know what he’s thinking, and I want to wipe the thought from his mind.

  “Nothing will happen to me.”

  “There’s no way you can promi
se that,” he argues.

  Cupping his damaged cheek, I lean up and kiss his lips. “I can’t, but I can guarantee that I’ll be as careful as I can, and I know you’ll protect me as best as you can.”

  His eyes turn tortured as he takes in my words. I can tell he wants to believe me, but past experiences and his guilt over not saving his wife and baby prevent him from doing so. I hold his gaze, wanting him to see the truth. His eyes stay guarded, and it makes me even more determined to show him he’s a good and honorable man, and that what happened was in no way his fault.

  As much as I don’t want to, I need to get back to the kids.

  I kiss his lips once more before pulling back. “I have to go get the kids. They’re at Jeremy’s and his mom’s having lunch. I’m sure they’re probably wondering where I am.”

  He lifts his arm from my waist, and I slide to the edge of the bed. I feel the heat of him following me. I try to take the sheet with me because somehow my underwear ended up on the other side of the room, and I’m not yet at the stage of shamelessly traipsing across the room naked. When I stand and tug on the sheet, it doesn’t move. I turn and look at what’s stopping it, and see a grinning Alexander with the sheet gripped in his fist.

  I arch an eyebrow. “You gonna let go anytime soon?”

  His grin grows. “I’ll think I’ll keep ahold of it for a while.”

  “Alexander,” I beg.

  “Nah-uh.” He shakes his head, then tips his chin toward where my panties are on the floor. “You gonna get dressed?”

  I narrow my eyes and hold his stare for several seconds before an idea pops in my head. Two can play this game. Turning on my heel, I make sure to sashay my hips as I walk over to my panties. With my cheeks pink, and with more boldness than I thought I was capable of, I bend with my ass facing him and scoop up my panties from the floor.