Scars In The Hand Of Jesus Novels & Stories

Betrayal like that cuts a wound deeper than skin. "Why are you suddenly being like this?" I asked, reaching up to touch his face. He was too close, too intense, like his presence alone could unravel me. He wrapped my hand in his, his eyes burning as he gazed down at the scars on my wrist. My heart beat faster. "They believe that people are born again with their scars," he whispered.

he asked. He took my hand and pressed my palm flat against his ribs. I felt the hard, rigid muscle of his side, but under my fingertips, I felt a long, bumpy line, a scar that felt old and tough. Then he moved my hand to his shoulder, where the skin was uneven and knotted.

It ran through the crease under his left peck and down along his side. My fingers instinctively reached for it, not stopping until they were touching his skin. His chest dramatically rose from the breath he took the moment my fingers touched him. Goosebumps spread over his body at lightning speed as I trailed my fingertips along the scar. I frowned. I didn't like the fact that someone had hurt him. “What about this one?” I asked, my voice a little quieter. “That is from a different fight,” he said, his left hand reaching up and wrapping around the hand touching him, while his right hand rested on my hip the way it always does.

I didn’t focus on it or tried not to before, but now I could fully take in everything he was. Goddess, he was breathtaking. Every muscle of his carved and honed by years of practice. The scars that decorated his face and hands also ran down his chest, dancing with each of his heavy breaths. I noted the same mangled scar I had seen briefly before, and my eyes lingered on it, trying to make it out.

Ye Shaotang could not drink anymore, so he turned his head around. After much difficulty, he reached out his hand to caress her face. Xu Yi had just been crying moments ago, so there were still tear stains on her face. She understood what he was trying to say and promptly sat next to him. She held his hands and guided them to her cheeks for him to caress. He still needed surgery for his scars and burns. Only this hand of his was fine. Aside from some flesh wounds, there was nothing serious. Xu Yi figured that this must be God’s benevolence. He left him one uninjured hand to caress her face with.

I gulped hard because my fingers ached to touch him but I was scared. Scared of my own wild desires and a heart craving to be with its other half. “Don’t punish yourself if your heart and body is screaming to touch me and feel me.” He said taking his shirt off and for the first time I saw his half naked body. He was definitely created by the hands of the God. Muscled body, stronger and wider than any other male. I saw faint scars on his abdomen, they were war wounds. He covered my body with his shirt which had his scent.

Price didn’t relinquish his hold on her, but he held his hand out in expectation. Kylee gave it to him. She wondered at how they must look, standing in the sand, him holding on to her wrists and examining her palms. He dropped the right hand and pressed his fingers against a criss-crossing of white scars on her left forearm. Kylee started to pull back, but he tightened his grip. He touched her lightly in the crease of her elbow, smoothing the skin enough to show the myriad of healing cuts. “What are these from?” he asked, his voice tight.

A feeling I hadn’t felt in a while. When I opened my eyes, I was told that a rather large beam of light went high into the sky, right where I had placed my hands, and Emmanuel’s wound was miraculously gone when I lifted my hands. I didn’t know it then, but that beam of light grabbed the attention of a lot of people, good and evil.

Kneeling down in front of me he narrowed his eyes once more as he held up the palm of his free hand, “Do you know what iron does to those of you’re kind?” Gulping hard I shook my head before looking at it once more. I noticed a symbol scarred into his hand, it must have been burnt into him. He held up the iron symbol and I realized it was the same symbol, “Give me your hand,” He said sternly. Gulping again I frowned as I instinctively pulled my hand against my chest,

Her hands were everywhere—on his hips, on his back, squeezing his shoulders. “Ann,” he moaned again. He couldn't hold off much longer. He wasn't strong enough. He wasn't noble enough. He wasn't— “Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!” She convulsed beneath him, her body arching off the sofa as she screamed. Her fingers bit into his back, nails raking his skin, but he didn't care. All he knew was that she'd found her release, and it was good, and for the love of God, he could finally...