Shadows of Desire
But it was the center panel that arrested the breath in my lungs.
It was a tight crop of Jennifer’s torso and lower face. She was bound in the crimson silk, but her posture was not that of a defeated captive. Her spine was arched in a perfect, rigid line of defiance and ecstasy, her chin tilted up, her lips parted in a breathless sigh. She was entirely surrounded by the physical manifestation of their dominance, but she looked like an absolute, untouchable queen completely in control of her own surrender.
Jennifer was standing in front of the photograph, one hand covering her mouth, openly weeping.
Bab Populer