Taboo: Ties and Sins
It was a more intimate, more dangerous feeling than any desire she had ever felt for him.
Her gaze traveled downward, following the line of his shoulder, the arm thrown over the pillow. And then she saw his hands. The hands that had bound her, sculpted her, possessed her. Now they rested inactive, open on the sheet. In the daylight, she could see the scars in sharp detail: old white cuts, thick yellowish calluses on the palms and fingertips, skin dry and cracked in places like the bark of an ancient tree. They were the hands of a laborer, of a man who wrestled with raw matter to extract beauty. They were physical proof of his vulnerability, of his constant struggle. They were not merely inst