Romans & histoires Whispering Reading

In Abigail’s heart of hearts, she already knows, she has a special admiration for Debbie since the day they met. Abby hasn’t forgotten the days she felt the special connection, though it may not mean anything to Debbie but mere thoughtless words. She can vividly recall; it was their first meet up, as Debbie whispers to her ears and said, “I prayed for you when you’re sick.” Abigail was puzzle when Debbie did know she was sick; in fact, she was not ill during that time. It remains a mystery to Abby why did Debbie whisper those words. It was a sweet melody that touches her soul.

"There are voices of people that linger when their lives are unjustly taken from this earth," Crystal said. "Voices of blood, and people who can't get justice for themselves. These voices belong to the souls of the dead, and the innocent. They can haunt you, torment you, and even try to kill you if they are strong enough. They are like air. They can't be seen. They can't be touched. They can be felt, but mostly through one's hearing. They glide in the air. The strong wind can stop them, and so can fire. Nature doesn't necessarily stop them, but anything too loud for you to hear them can temporarily stop them. And that is why they are called whispers.

I whispered It was a war now A slow, filthy, breathless war His knuckles brushed my cheek His other hand hovered just beneath my breast I held still Waiting Daring Begging without saying a word Then I whimpered Quiet Pathetic Accidental And he groaned Like the sound broke him “I should walk away,” he muttered, more to himself than to me “Then why haven’t you,” I whispered His head dropped His forehead pressed to mine Our breaths tangled Everything went quiet Except the rain The wind

Calla The whisper started three weeks ago. At first, I thought it was stress. The kind of auditory hallucination that comes from too many sleepless nights and too much responsibility. Just my mind playing tricks, creating phantom sounds where there was only silence. But whispers don't usually know your name. They don't usually know your fears. And they definitely don't usually offer you everything you've ever wanted. Calla. There it was again. Soft. Seductive. Like smoke curling through the gaps in my thoughts.

He whispered. He really could read me like an open book. My breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t answer as my mind swam with possibilities. He pressed against me, and I felt his erection between my legs. I couldn’t help but whimper for him. This cannot be happening, I must be dreaming. He cannot want me the way I want him. My breathing became heavier as my heart pounded. The sensation of his breath on my neck stirred me. The bubble popped and the world came crashing around me.

Clears his throat. “Ready?” he asks. I nod. “Hit me. Maybe it’ll distract me from wanting to climb the walls.” He starts reading. His voice drops low, rough around the edges, that filthy timbre he gets when he’s whispering things in the dark. The Russian rolls off his tongue smooth and deep. I don’t understand most of the words, only bits and pieces he’s taught me but the sound of it? It’s like warm honey poured over gravel. He reads slow. Deliberate. Each syllable drawn out just enough to make my skin tingle. His free hand rests on my belly, thumb moving in lazy circles. Sandra shifts under his palm, like she’s listening. Like she knows that voice.

Landon whispered against your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine and your heart skip a beat as his breath grazes upon your skin. Keep reading!!😅

"I could read only your thoughts, the ones going through your head that instant; it sounds like whispers, and I imagine them in your voice." "That is creepy and cool." "No more questions; I think it is my turn now.

Something wasn’t right. Before I could change my mind again, I found myself standing right at the door, leaning against it. Eavesdropping. Not something I was proud of, but I needed to know. Her voice had been loud moments ago, almost like she was arguing—or panicking. But now… it was low. Almost like a whisper. Why the sudden change? I pressed my ear more firmly against the door, hoping to catch even a word. And then… I heard it. Just one word. Just one sentence.

Ilyria clamped her hand over her mouth, trying not to call out to the man. He sounded so desperate, so afraid, she wanted to let him know he was not alone. But that voice inside her warned her to listen more closely. So, she did. She once more heard the man’s groan. But there was also something else underneath. She held her breath as she listened, trying to picture the silence as something physical, a curtain that only had to be pulled back. The man groaned again, and the whispers grew more excited. It was as if the whispers carried the sound of the man’s voice.