Louisiana Laydown Read Online Free Page B

he said.
    They turned away from the rail and began making their way to his small berth. Every few steps or so, they’d stop and kiss once more, their hands seeking frantic purchase to hold themselves upright. She tasted like a fine wine, and she had a nice, mature figure. This wasn’t a girl, Fargo knew, but a full-grown woman with an appetite to match his own.
    They finally reached his bunk and he shut the door and locked it behind them. She didn’t waste any time with more talking, but got right down to business, shoving him down onto the bed as soon as he’d loosened his gun belt and hung it over the hook on the wall.
    The berth he’d chosen wasn’t fancy—a single bed, a dresser, and a basin to wash up in. She lit the small oil lamp on the dresser top and turned down the wick so the room was bathed in a warm glow that made it appear nicer than it was. Not that it needed much improvement with her in it, Fargo thought.
    He watched as she slowly undid the buttons down the front of her dress. She returned his gaze as she went about undressing, moving her fingers without breaking the spell of her eyes. Each wooden button undone came closer to revealing her fine body and as the top half of her dress came free, he felt himself exhale in pleasure at the sight of her full, deep breasts.
    She undid several more buttons, then gave a shrug and allowed the dress to drop to the floor where it pooled at her feet. As he’d suspected, she was a mature woman, with a form to match: broad hips, with a slight swell to her belly, and beneath, a dark thatch of curly hair that she kept trimmed and neat. Her legs were long and smooth, and tapered down to her feet, helping accentuate her hourglass shape.
    Her breasts swayed slightly as she stepped toward him, the nipples dark and erect points against the fairness of her skin. She leaned down and pulled off his boots one by one, then piece by piece, she undressed the rest of him. This was a woman who knew how to take her time, and she did, finally getting him naked just as he thought he couldn’t stand being bound up anymore.
    He started to move up, and she placed her hands against his chest and pushed him back down. Her mouth found his, and he tasted her tongue once more even as his hands reached up to cup her breasts and stroke the nipples with his thumbs. She moaned softly, but broke off the kiss and worked her way down, using her lips and tongue until she took his erect manhood in her mouth.
    There was nothing tentative about her approach and Fargo felt his hips buck in response to her smooth technique. He tangled his hands in her hair as she worked on him, using her own hands to tease him to an even harder erection.
    Finally, he could take no more and lifted her away with a playful growl, then twisted her around so that he could take his turn on top. As she had done, Fargo teased her all the way down, running his teeth and fingers over her nipples, then reaching lower still, finding her center with his fingers. She was warm and wet and more than ready, but he wanted her to ache for him a little, so he continued the slow, torturous play until she was panting beneath him.
    “Please, Fargo . . . Oh, God,” she whispered. “Don’t make me wait any longer. I want you inside me. Now!”
    “Let’s find out if my aim is still good,” he said, sliding into her to the hilt.
    She gasped and bucked beneath him, and her moans got loud enough that Fargo figured anyone in the hallway or the berth next door was getting quite an earful. Her legs opened wider, and he obliged the gesture, plunging deeper into her with each thrust.
    She was all woman, warm and wet and wanting, and Fargo felt himself beginning to build toward his own climax even as she writhed beneath him. She surged upward, meeting his thrusts with her hips. “Oh, God, Fargo . . . your aim is fine. Don’t stop, no matter what. Make me . . . make me . . .” She clawed at his back, raking her nails down, as she screamed, “I’m