Raoul told her about Black Salmon. "He liked whipping me even better than he liked whiskey. And when he got hold of whiskey he liked beating me even better."
"Poor Raoul! And such a little boy." Clarissa's face drew down with sympathy. "I'm powerful sorry for you." She pulled him to her.
He lowered his head to her breast and drew the nipple into his mouth, pressing it with his teeth. They lay back together, and he enjoyed the feel of the soft, feather-filled mattress and pillows billowing up around them.
By God, if he didn't feel himself getting big and hard to do it again. Proudly he threw back the sheet and let her see what he had for her. She smiled up at him, welcoming, her pale blue eyes shining in the candlelight.
He could use her to help him forget a little longer about Pierre and his redskin wife and son.
A sharp rapping at the bedroom door brought an end to his new surge of desire.
Clarissa gasped and pulled away from Raoul, dragging the bedclothes toward her.
Raoul put his finger to his lips and called out, "Who's there?"
"It's Eli," said a voice through the door.
Raoul's heart began hammering again, as hard as when he woke from his nightmare.