" The count bowed, but stepped back. "Do you refuse?" said Mercedes, in a tremulous voice. "Pray excuse me, madame," replied Monte Cristo, "but I neve... eat Muscatel grapes."Mercedes let them fall, and sighed. A magnificent peach was hanging against an adjoining wall, ripened by the same artificial heat. Mercedes drew near, and plucked the fruit. "Take this peach, then," she said. The count again refused. "What, again?" she exclaimed, in so plaintive an accent that it seemed to stifle a sob;. I pulled off my hijab, uncovering my black hair. I let it drop to the floor as my fingers went to the buttons of my dress. He stared at me with such hunger, rubbing his hands on his thighs. He was a slender boy, not broad-shouldered like his father or older brother. It made me just want to smother him in maternal love.“Kimmy,” I said, exposing more and more of my large, dusky breasts with every button I undid.He shifted.“You've been paying a lot of attention to her.”He shrugged.“You had sex. More

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