Blood Wedding

She immediately moved her hand from herself to his erection, which was already standing at attention like a soldier on parade. Her fingers were wet and slick from the caresses she’d given herself. She slid them up and down the length of Fargo’s iron-hard shaft.

“You could use that for a club if you got in a brawl,” Angel said.

“It might not be as much like a club if I were in a fight,” Fargo said. “It needs a little encouragement.”

“Why don’t I give it some, then?”

Angel turned over on him and took him in her mouth. Its soft wet heat engulfed him, and she teased the tip of his pole with her tongue before taking him deeper and deeper. He looked at her through hooded eyes and saw that she had her hand busy between her legs.

“I can take care of that job for you,” he said, taking her hips in his hands and positioning her so that he could get to her dripping honey pot with his mouth and tongue. He let his tongue glide over her, and she shuddered in pleasure. He kept it up for a while and then quickly slipped his tongue into her. As soon as he did it, she jerked as if she’d been shot.

“Ohhhhhhhhhh!” she said. “My sweet Jesus! Ohhhhhhhhh!”

She collapsed on him and lay there for a while, breathing heavily. Finally she rose and got off him, lying back on the leaves.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Angel said. “Good Lord!”

Fargo didn’t say anything.

“It didn’t do you much good did it?” Angel said. She reached for him with her hand and found him as hard as ever. “When you say you’re ready, you really do mean it. I’m sorry it’s all over.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve, you know . . . finished. I didn’t mean for it to happen like that, but it’s too late to do anything about it now.”

She hadn’t had as much experience as Fargo thought she had. Either that, or the men she’d known hadn’t had much stamina. The fact that she’d finished only once was hardly a drawback to what was about to happen. Fargo was a little disappointed in Jed for just a second, but then he forgot all about him.

“You haven’t finished,” Fargo said. “You just think you have. I’ll show you.”

He started by kissing her breasts, then flicking the nipples with his tongue before taking each one into his mouth in its turn. To what seemed like Angel’s surprise, her nipples grew hot and hard again, and her breasts engorged. Fargo let his own fingers get to work doing what Angel’s had been doing earlier. She moaned and sighed, and her hips wiggled on the bed of leaves that rustled beneath her.

Fargo rose up and parted her legs, positioning himself between them. His rampant erection jutted out in front of him like a spear, and Angel took it in both hands.

“You were right, Fargo. It’s not too late. This is what I need, and I need it now. Give it to me!”

Fargo needed no further invitation. Being careful of her shoulder, he buried himself in her right up to the limit.

“Ahhhhhhh!” Angel said, her head twisting to the side, her mouth wide and wanton.

Fargo held her pinned there for a while before starting to move. When he slid out, he went back in almost immediately. It was as if Angel had somehow pulled him back inside, and his strokes became faster and faster, with Angel thrashing beneath him as if she were having some kind of seizure.

Fargo was just at the point of explosion when Angel suddenly became still. He thought for an instant that he might have hurt her shoulder, but it wasn’t that. It was only the calm before the tornado struck. She bucked under him like an unbroken pony. She bounced him, jounced him, and nearly threw him off. And then she climaxed.

“Ahhhhhhh! Ahhhhhh! Ahhhhhh!”

Soon Fargo joined her. He felt entirely drained, and Angel couldn’t say a thing. They lay side by side and waited until their hearts stopped trying to beat through their chests.

After several minutes, Angel said, “It’s too bad you’re the kind of man you are, Fargo.”

“What kind of man is that?”

“The same kind that Jed was. Well, you’re certainly different in one way. But I’m not talking about that. He was stiff-necked and honest, and it got him killed.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being honest,” Fargo said. “It’s the way most people are.”

“Not my people. We haven’t been that way for a long time. Not since my mother was killed.”

“What happened to her?”

“It happened a few years ago. My pa was a farmer, just like all these people around here. He probably would have stayed one if it hadn’t been for the free-staters and the slavery crowd.”

Fargo wondered what that had to do with anything, but he figured if he waited, Angel would tell him.

“My pa was like these farmers you’re staying with,” she went on. “He didn’t care one way or the other about slavery or what happened to other people. He just wanted to be left alone to get his crops in and take care of me and Paul and our mother.”

She didn’t look at Fargo when she mentioned Paul’s name. She was probably thinking about how he had died.