Blood Wedding

Instead of explaining, Abby got up out of the chair and came to stand by the bed. Fargo’s eyes had gotten used to the faint light in the room, and he could see that she was wearing a flimsy cotton gown that came down below her ankles. She bent over, grabbed the bottom of the gown, pulled it straight up over her head, and tossed it in the general direction of the chair she’d been sitting in. Now she was wearing nothing at all.

“Now do you know what I want?” she asked.

Fargo didn’t say anything, and he wasn’t surprised. Her desire was a natural reaction to what had happened, he figured. Jed had been killed, and Abby was still alive. But maybe she needed to prove it to herself.

“You think I’m terrible, don’t you,” she said.

It wasn’t a question, and Fargo continued to keep quiet. The next thing he knew, Abby had crawled under the thin sheet that covered him. Her hip and shoulder touched him. They were hot as a smithy’s fire.

“I don’t care if you do think I’m terrible,” she said. “I need you, and I need you now.”

Fargo could have played the noble, grieving friend and shoved her out of the bed. But he didn’t. He understood her need, and he felt something a little like it himself. He didn’t think Jed would mind. Oh, if he’d been alive, he’d have minded. He’d have fought Fargo with his fists or with pistols or with whatever came to hand. But he wasn’t alive, and Fargo was. So was Abby. Fargo pulled her to him.

“Oh,” she said, feeling his stiff rod as the long length of it pressed against her stomach. “You don’t wear anything to sleep in.”

“Just a waste, when you’re in a soft bed,” Fargo said.

And the bed was soft. It was so soft that it seemed about to swallow them up, and in doing so it forced them even closer together. Abby’s body was feverishly hot, and she hugged Fargo to her, rubbing her belly against his stiffness.

“That’s what I need,” she said. “I need it now, Fargo. I don’t think I can wait.”

Fargo rolled over on his back, pulling her on top of him. She was so much smaller than he that he hardly felt her weight.

“I won’t break,” she said, seeming to know what he was thinking. “Please. Help me.”

Fargo was willing. He took her hips in his hands and lifted her, then settled her against the tip of his throbbing erection. He could feel the crisp hairs of her sex, and she rubbed herself vigorously against him. She was slick and hot and ready, and Fargo held her still long enough to locate the stop he was looking for. Then he slid her down onto his rock-hard pole and pinned her there for a moment.

“Ah,” she said. “Ah, ah, ah.”

She tried to begin wiggling, but eager as she was, Fargo wasn’t ready to turn her loose, and not just because he enjoyed having his penis encased by her honeyed heat. He said, “Your father and a couple of his friends are sitting up in the kitchen.”

“Ah. I, ah, know. It doesn’t matter. Please.”

“We might make noise.”

“They, ah, they’ll be drunk by, ah, now. Please, Fargo. Please. I can’t wait.”

Fargo hoped she was right about the men being drunk. He didn’t want Lem to catch him with Abby. Lem might get the idea that Fargo was being disrespectful of the dead.

But it was really too late to worry about that. Abby was rubbing her breasts against him, and their tips ground against him like red-hot rubies. He released her hips.

She went into motion: side to side, up and down, round and round. Her need was to great and she was moving so rapidly that Fargo had no chance of matching her energy. He just had to let her go, and in only a minute or two she buried her face against his chest to keep from crying out as her body shuddered with wave after wave of pleasure.

After a while her breathing slowed, and she lay still against him and gathered her strength.

“I know that wasn’t much good for you,” she said at last.

“It was good,” Fargo said. “I just didn’t get to finish.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. But you didn’t have any letdown. I can still feel you inside me. It feels good, Fargo. If you can wait a minute, we’ll do it again. For you, this time.”

Fargo said he could wait, but it didn’t take even a minute. He felt her nipples growing hard against him, and the sensation made him grow a bit as well.

“My God,” Abby said. “I didn’t know it could get any bigger. Oh, my.”

She moved tentatively, drawing herself up so far that only the tip of his shaft remained inside her. She twirled slightly, then lowered herself very, very slowly, allowing Fargo to feel the sensation along the entire length of himself.

“Ah,” she said. “Ah. That’s good. That’s good.”

Fargo agreed, but didn’t say so. He lay back and let her work, slowly at first and then faster and faster as she grew more and more excited. Soon she was practically bouncing on him, and he put his hands to the curve of her hips to keep her from flying off.

“Hurry, Fargo,” she said. “Hurry, I’m going off again!”