“I know that I am birdlike, made narrow and small as if for taking flight, built straight-waisted and fragile. But when he touches me like he can't bear to take his hand away, I don't wish I was any different.”

“Don't be sorry. Just try not to let him touch you. When he touches you I see red. I can't take it. I don't want to see him or anyone else touch you”

“I held it out and Caleb took it. This was the first book he had held in his hands. He made me smile, opening it upside down and back to front, but he touched the pages with the utmost care, as if gentling some fragile-boned wild thing. The godliest among us did not touch the Bible with such reverence as he showed to that small book.”

“He takes both of my hands and places them above my head. He loves to be in control. I love being taken control of, dominated and just feeling his body, without sight. I can't guess what he will do next. He knows exactly how to get to me by taking my tactile senses away. His hands pushing mine together into the leather, as he unleashes his cock on the opening of my...”

“Don't cry, Ana, please," he murmurs against my mouth. "It was long ago. I am aching for you to touch me, but I just can't bear it. It's too much. Please, please don't cry.”

“…I feel like he’s taking advantage of me. Advantage of my illness. He thinks he can rewrite history in any way that he likes and I will never know, never be any the wiser. But I do know. I know exactly what he’s doing. And so I don’t trust him. In the end he is pushing me away, Dr. Nash. Ruining everything.”