Whispered Prayers of a Girl

Making sure her eyes are still closed, mine move back to the plump mounds in front of me. Before I realize what I’m doing, my hand palms my dick. It’s hard as steel and aching like a bitch in my pants. I’m tempted to take it out and really give it a rub, but I nix the idea. I’m already taking a risk by being in here, but it’s something I can’t control. It’s not something I want to control. Being in her vicinity feels too good and right.

I sit there for a good hour, just watching her sleep, before I force my legs to stand. I don’t want to leave her. Every time I do it gets harder and harder. My need grows every day. I’m not under the illusion that it’ll be easy. I have no doubt she’ll put up a big fight once she finds out what all I’ve done and who I am. I know I’ve gone too far with my obsession and it’ll freak her out in the beginning, but in the end, she’ll be mine. I have every confidence she will be. Once she realizes that I’m the only man for her, that I’m the only man that can give her what she needs and wants— not just materialistically, but emotionally—she’ll see reason. It’s cliché as shit and it may make me sound like a pussy, but I’m the man that will love her the hardest and make it my mission in life to keep her happy.

With one last glance at Poppy’s face, I reluctantly leave her behind. Knowing I’ll see her tomorrow makes it easier, but not by much.

I pull Poppy’s door closed behind me, just the way it was, and slowly make my way back down her hallway. My chest hurts with every step I take away from her. It’s ridiculous to feel this way.

I love all the excitement of creeping around, watching her, obsessing over her, but the most important reason I haven’t openly pursued Poppy yet is because of the anger I know she’ll feel toward me once she finds out the lengths I have gone to to invade her privacy for my own selfish reasons. I’m not ready for her anger, her hate, or even worse, her fear. Fear is the very last thing Poppy should ever feel when it comes to me. I’d cut off my dick and shove it down my own throat before I ever hurt her. She is to be cherished and treated like gold.

I plan to have one hell of a fight on my hands, but it’ll be worth it, and no matter what it takes, I will have her where I want her.

As I walk by the living room, something catches my eye. There, sitting on an end table is a vase filled with sterling silver roses

; Poppy’s favorite. My lips tilt up into a smirk when I see them. I walk over and run my fingers over the soft petals, thinking that Poppy’s skin would feel just as soft. I look around the already familiar living room and see everything meticulously placed. I like that she’s well-organized. I’m not a neat freak myself, but I do like order. It just makes life easier in general.

I move from the living room and back into the kitchen. It takes every bit of strength I have to unlock the door and step outside. If it were up to me, I’d be with her every day and night, 24/7, never letting her out of my sight. I could look at her forever and never get tired of her beauty.

It’s coming up on midnight and the neighborhood is dark and quiet. Luckily, the houses are spread out, so the chances of someone catching me breaking in through the fence are small. I also own several different cars. I frequently change the ones I use so Poppy, or anyone else in the neighborhood, doesn’t become suspicious.

I grab my keys from my pocket, unlock my door and climb inside. My hand automatically reaches for my phone, pulling up the live feed of Poppy sleeping. She’s in the same position I left her in.

Setting my phone down in its carrier, I start my car and pull away from the curb, already counting down the hours until I’ll see her again.