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“My middle name. How sweet.” “You don’t understand.” He clasped her cheeks in his hands. “Make me, Emma.” There was a hint of desperatio... in his tone. She hated this, hated the way it made him feel. It was time to get it over with, let him know the truth so he could decide what to do with it. “He’s your son, Daniel. Our son.” He shook his head in bewilderment. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. A multitude of expressions crossed his face. “He’s five months old.” Emma struggled to fill. Their mouths opened wide, her slim tongue met his and they crushed into each other. She tasted like dates and vanilla, the sound of her breathing heavily throughout the kiss excited him. Her hand moved to his member and traced it through his dark silk robe. She was much younger than he, perhaps only nineteen summers, but she had known love before. The stroke of her hand was that of someone who had pleased a man in the past. Bare and warm to the touch, her breasts, firm as they were, gave way to. More

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