By Lady Carlton née Katie O’Roarke, heroine of “The Blonde Samurai”
In Episode 2, we discovered that Temerity Whitechapel has no choice but to sell the family lands to the railway, but she insists that a kiss be part of the bargain. A naughty kiss. Captain Jack Longhorn refuses and she challenges him to a duel…
Back-to-back they stood, Temerity and the dashing Captain, their pistols raised, the breadth of his hard shoulders pressed firm against her back, the heat of his body thrilling her with every sensation she had read about in her torrid novels. Ripples of pleasure rushing through her and making her press her thighs together so she may enjoy the lovely contractions.
“Ten…nine…eight–” she counted, keeping her voice steady though just barely as she walked away from him. Slowly. She didn’t give him the opportunity to protest her doing the count instead of an impartial third party. Would she have stopped if he had? Her long skirts dragged along the polished floor behind her with the solemnity of a requiem.
As she took each step, the heat of his body lingered on the bare skin at the back of her neck. What was she thinking? She wanted him to kiss her, not shoot him.
She couldn’t deny it. She was in a high state of arousal and in need of a man’s touch to temper her needs. What other explanation could there for her wild impulses?
Temerity had to stop this silly game. Fast. Her recklessness would be the end of both of them.
The last number caught in her throat. She couldn’t go any farther.
She turned around swiftly before giving the signal to fire, determined to admit her foolishness lest any harm come to his person because of this imprudent weakness of hers to be kissed, when–
Captain Jack grabbed her roughly and slid his arm around her waist. His swift action thrilled her, his show of bravado setting off a ripple of anticipation that made her moan. He nuzzled his face in her hair fragrant with her honeyed scent and whispered in her ear, “Did you think I would let you go through with this silly charade?”
“I wouldn’t have shot you,” she said, barely catching her breath. Her heart raced. She prayed he wouldn’t let her go.
“You do?” she said. His blunt reply made her feel foolish and devoid of any dignity.
“Yes. You are the most audacious young woman I have chanced to meet in this town, Miss Whitechapel,” he said, his hand resting under her breast, “and the most beautiful.”
She stiffened, not wanting him to remove his hand, so lovely it felt massaging her breast with tiny strokes.
“Am I to believe that you have changed your mind about the kiss?” she dared to ask.
“You are as hot-blooded as those scarlet petticoats you wear. A woman who knows what she wants and will do anything to get it.” He pulled her close to him, his hot breath burning her cheeks, his eyes blazing with a rising desire he didn’t try to hide. “And I’ll be damned if I’m not the man to give it to you.”
“Captain Long–” she began, but he took advantage of her surprise and kissed her, the firm pressure of his lips on hers invoking such intense tremors in her that she could do nothing but enjoy it.
And that she did.
His kiss was as she dreamed it would be. Warm, silky sensations.
A crawling heat unnerved her, beads of salty perspiration dripping down her cheeks and wetting her lips, but she didn’t wipe them away. She couldn’t move. She was in a trance.
She gasped when he sensed her surrender and plunged his tongue into her mouth, such delicious, hot probing unknown to her, but she didn’t want him to stop. She returned his kiss with all that she was: Her innocence, her youth, her desire.
Wetness mixed with passion and such tenderness she sighed deeply when the kiss ended. “A naughty first kiss should lead to a second, should it not?” she asked, her breathing ragged, her eyes misty.
“Miss Whitechapel, you do amaze me,” said the Captain before claiming her mouth again and making her forget all about the pistol she still held in her hand.
So, dear lady reader, take a lesson from today’s story. Don’t whittle away your time writing a silly verse for your beloved on Valentine’s Day. Do instead as Temerity Whitechapel did and give your husband or your lover a very naughty kiss.
I assure you, you will find his pistol loaded.
I cannot suppress my excitement about my special Valentine’s Day short story, “A Naughty Victorian Lady receives a naughty spanking” featuring Miss Molly Pearlbottom.
The Blonde Samurai
“She embraced the way of the warrior. Two swords. Two loves.”