by Olivia Essex
Carnal Publishers and Olivia Essex reserve all rights to TEACHING TEMPERANCE. Please obtain permission before copying any part of this ebook. Resemblances to any person, living or dead, are coincidental. In compliance with United States erotica laws, all characters are 18 or over.
©Olivia Essex, 2011
Lady Temperance knows she is in trouble when her guardian, Viscount Linchester, catches her sneaking out of the garden in a state of dishabille. When she reveals she was with Lady Prudence, not Pru's brother Horrid Harold, as Ashby assumed, her guardian accepts the news she was kissing the other woman with aplomb. Ashby is convinced she can't have learned much from another inexperienced chit and does something most peculiar--he offers to instruct her in the art of kissing...everywhere.
Teaching Temperance
Tempie had her hand on the banister and had taken a single step up when Ashby broke the silence that had sprung up between them in the carriage ride home from the Hoytons’ evening party.
“A word in my study, Temperance.”
She winced at his use of her full name. Yes, her guardian was assuredly angry about something. Tightening her hold on the reticule in her hand, she stepped off the stair and turned to face him. “Of course.” As she followed him into his study, her mind whirled with reasons why he’d want a discussion, especially this late at night. Two possibilities occurred to her, and neither one appealed. The first was, he had contracted a marriage for her. She hid a shudder at the thought, but couldn’t pretend the idea would please her. The other possibility was he had seen her slip out to the gardens and return in a state of dishabille. Had others noticed?
In his study, he directed her to stand at the edge of his desk while he sat down. His seated position made him slightly shorter than she was, but no less intimidating. She swallowed a lump in her throat as she dropped the reticule on his desk and stripped off her gloves. “I am weary this evening, Ashby. I would like to retire soon.”
He nodded. “Where were you this evening when you disappeared?”
She tried widening her blue eyes and striving for an expression of innocence. “I do not know what you mean, sir. I did not disappear.”
Ashby frowned, giving his distinguished features a rough edge that made her heart race.
Tempie wasn’t sure if the increased pulse came from fear or something else she couldn’t identify. “I saw you walk into the Hoytons’ garden. You did not return for nearly an hour. I ask again. What were you doing?”
She pursed her lips, refusing to answer. Tempie hoped tales of her guardian’s temper were exaggerated by the Ton. It had been a little more than a year since she had come to reside with him, when her beloved papa died, and she had never seen him angry before. Of course, she didn’t see much of him anyway, as he seemed to go out of his way to avoid her by staying busy with gentlemanly pursuits, such as card games and spending time at his club. Tonight, she feared she would be on the receiving end of his legendary anger as his eyes darkened, and he leaned forward.
“I shall not ask you again, Temperance.”
Tempie tried to remain impassive as she looked over his shoulder instead of at him, unable to meet his gaze.
With a sigh, Ashby said, “Very well.” His voice was cool, but there was a hint of hardness beneath that made her tremble. “Turn around.”
Tempie blinked. “I…what?”
“Turn around.”
Biting her lip, she slowly turned, until her back was to him. She gasped when the warmth of his hand seeped through the lavender satin of her gown. He pressed between her shoulder blades, forcing her to bend forward. A second later, his hand collided forcefully with her buttocks.
With a cry of outrage, Tempie tried to spin away, but he held her immobile, continuing to spank her thrice more before he stopped. His hand on her back kept her from standing or turning.
“What were you doing this evening?”
She shook her head, biting back tears caused more from humiliation than pain. No one had spanked her since she was a little girl. How dare he?
“Do tell me when you change your mind.” He sounded bored as he resumed thumping her bottom with solid smacks that jarred her.
Tempie endured, sure with each strike she could take no more, when he finally relented.
“You are a stubborn hoyden, Temperance.” Was that a trace of amusement in his words?
“Allow me to prompt your confession. I know you disappeared into the gardens with Harold Hoyton.”
His hand still kept her from turning, and Tempie realized he was rubbing her inflamed buttocks in a soft circular motion. Her stomach clenched, and she was suddenly tingling between her legs. Alarmed by what she was feeling, she took a step forward before turning to face him.
“Very well, Lord Linchester,” she snapped. “Since you are so misinformed, I see it is up to me to correct your assumptions.”
Keeping her voice as frigid as she could, and trying to maintain a blank expression, she said,
“I was in the gardens, but not with that despicable Harold Hoyton.” She glared at Ashby. “Have you no sense to suggest such a thing, sir? He is a loathsome coxcomb.”
Ashby inclined his head. “I do apologize for offending you. Perhaps you will be so good as to clear up the confusion on the subject of your whereabouts?”
She braced herself, certain he would not be pleased by her actions. “I was in the garden with Prudence Hoyton.”
Ashby looked relieved before frowning again. “Why were you so disheveled upon your return? I had assumed you sneaked off for an interlude with Harold, since he disappeared around the same time.” His mouth tightened. “Did someone force unwanted attentions upon you or Lady Prudence?”
Tempie blushed. “No. If you must know, I was kissing Pru.”
He froze, looking astonished. “Lady Prudence?”
Tempie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes, Ashby.”
“I see.” His expression was impassive. “Why were you kissing Lady Prudence?” He gave a small smile. “Were you practicing?”
She shook her head.
“Then why should you wish to kiss another woman?”
“She has soft lips,” blurted out Tempie, her cheeks feeling even hotter.
“Ah.” Ashby cocked his head. “Was this your first kiss with Lady Prudence?”
After a hesitation, she shook her head again. “No,” she said in a whisper.
He cleared his throat. “How long has this been going on?”
“Since the beginning of the season.” It was her third and Prudence’s first. The girls had bonded over a lack of male attention. Men of the Ton had given up trying to call on Tempie, due to her constant refusals, while Prudence’s plumpness and shyness seemed to have cast her into the role of reluctant wallflower.
“I see.” He sighed. “Is that all you have done?”
Tempie blinked, unsure what he was asking.
“How do you kiss Lady Prudence?”
“On the lips.” Surely, Ashby had kissed a woman before? Intrigued by the idea that he hadn’t, she asked, “Are you unaware how the deed is performed, Ashby?”
He chuckled. “No, Tempie.”
She relaxed slightly at his return to the preferred version of her name.
“Have you kissed a man?”
Tempie shook her head. “That would be improper.”
Ashby laughed again. “You must know many of the Ton would view your kiss with Lady Prudence as improper. It is not illegal as such an act would be between men, but nor is it flaunted.”
She glared at him. “We were not flaunting anything, sir. We prefer discretion for our trysts.
Pru would never contemplate public exposure, unlike some men, who might try to force me to marry them. That is
why I do not kiss men—that, and it would be an unpleasant task.”
He eyed her with a peculiar expression. “If you have not kissed a man, how do you know what it would be like? You might prefer kissing men to women.”
Feeling a little confused, she climbed up to sit on the desk without thought. “I do not know for certain, of course, but she is soft and pleasingly round. Pru feels delightful in my arms. Men are hard and rough. How could they compare?”
“That is not very scientific of you, Tempie. I know you have an inquisitive mind. How can you discern the outcome of an experiment if you do not account for all factors?”
She nodded. “I see your point.” She couldn’t hide a grimace. “Yet, there are no men I would kiss.”
“Not even the Honorable Harold Hoyton?” he teased with a sparkle in his eyes.
Tempie giggled. “Certainly not.”
After a moment, his expression turned serious again. “I shall kiss you.”
She blinked. “I do not think—”
He leaned forward to put his finger lightly against her lips. “Do not think. Simply feel, so you can decide if you have a preference.”
Feeling uneasy, she remained perfectly still as he raised his head while bringing hers lower.
As his lips touched hers, she thought about pulling away, but hesitated. In that instance, she was lost. Ashby’s firm lips were surprisingly soft and gentle against hers, with an underlying hint of steel that made her shiver. His mouth coaxed hers into a response, and she moaned quietly as he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer. He issued a moan of his own before parting her lips. Then he did the most peculiar thing. He put his tongue in her mouth!
Tempie jerked back. “What are you doing?”
Ashby’s eyes were dark, and he seemed confused for a second. “Kissing you, as we agreed.”
She touched her mouth. “Why did you lick me?”
He laughed. “I did not lick you. I was tasting you.” His eyes narrowed. “How do you kiss Lady Prudence? Show me.”
With a nod, she leaned forward to press her lips to his for several seconds. When she lifted her head, she saw him arch a brow. “That is a respectable kiss.”
He shook his head. “That is the sort of kiss one gives their grandmother. A real kiss is much different. Shall I show you?” He must have sensed her hesitation, because he asked, “Have I hurt you?” At her negative response, he asked, “Was it pleasing when I had my tongue in your mouth?”
She licked her lips. “I am not sure.” It had only been in there a second, and she had been so shocked, she hadn’t reacted on any other level.
“Let us find out.” Ashby cupped the back of her head to guide her mouth to his. Tempie held her breath as their lips touched again. This time, his mouth was more demanding, but it didn’t frighten her. Her heart seemed to skip a beat when he parted her lips, and she clung to the edge of the desk with a white-knuckle grip when his tongue slipped inside to stroke her own.
Sensations she had never expected leapt through her body. Her nipples tightened, and she couldn’t seem to remember how to breathe.
At some point, she must have taken in a breath, because the kiss lasted several minutes. She would have been unconscious if she hadn’t breathed. When Ashby released her, she panted, struggling to fill her lungs, which felt oxygen-starved. On the surface, he appeared as cool as ever, but the telltale hint of perspiration on his brow, and the hungry look in his eyes, revealed he wasn’t unaffected.
“Well, Tempie, did you enjoy that?”
She nodded, leaning closer on instinct, as her mouth tried to seek his again.
He smiled. “Does it compare to your maidenly kisses with Lady Prudence?”
Tempie shook her head. “I had no idea kissing could be like that.”
“Indeed.” His smile was cryptic. “Some go their whole lives without experiencing such a kiss.”
Her eyes widened. “Truly? Even married women?”
Ashby shrugged. “Marriage is rarely based on passion.”
She touched her lips, considering. “This is passion I feel?” At his nod, she said, “Did you feel it too, Ashby? Have you kissed other women like this?” The dart of jealousy surprised her.
She hadn’t viewed Ashby as anyone besides her father’s friend and her guardian. Had she? He must be fifteen years her elder, at least. Of course he had kissed other women that way. It would be naïve to assume he hadn’t.
“A few,” he said, before turning the conversation. “What else have you done with your friend?”
Tempie blushed. “I should retire.” He put a hand on her knee, making her aware of just how close she was sitting to him. She had sat on her father’s desk countless times, but it was different with Ashby. Much different.
“I will not tease or mock you, Tempie. I just want to know.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, which was no answer at all. “Have you touched each other intimately?”
Still blushing, she nodded.
“Where? How?”
Tempie pointed vaguely to her breasts.
He exhaled raggedly. “Were you dressed?”
Her mouth dropped open. “Of course, sir.”
Ashby nodded. “I suppose she never kissed your bosom, or you hers?”
Her eyes widened. “Certainly not.” After a second, she said, “I did not know you could kiss anywhere besides the lips.”
“As a green girl, you should not know that.” He wore a conspiratorial grin. “However, it is essential information for a chit.”
She gasped. “I am not saucy, Ashby.”
His grin grew. “Yes, you are, and do not be ashamed of it. Few girls would have the nerve to exchange even tepid caresses with another woman. I suspect you have a sensual nature, Tempie.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Do you truly think I am a light-skirt?”
His mouth dropped open. “Where did you hear that term?”
She frowned. “From Horrid Harold.” Tempie clapped a hand over her mouth at her casual revelation of the nickname she and Prudence had given her brother.
Ashby’s face flushed red, and he seemed close to violence. “Did he call you such a thing? If so, my seconds will call on his.”
“No. I heard him talking to a stable groom about a certain woman they both knew. A Covent Garden nun.” She shrugged. “I do not know what that is, but he said she was a passionate light-skirt.”
Her guardian relaxed. “I see. It is not a pleasant term. It is a somewhat polite, mostly mocking, term for a man’s…temporary courtesan.” His eyes narrowed. “Do you know what that is?”
Tempie licked her lips. “It is a woman who acts as a wife to a man without being married.”
He nodded. “That is a close enough definition. I most certainly do not think you are a light-skirt. I think you are passionate and sensual, along with being curious about sex. It is natural, particularly at your age.”
The knot in her stomach loosened at his reassurance. “It does not seem natural. Neither does kissing…elsewhere.”
A sexy grin curved his lips. “It is natural and pleasurable. Shall I show you?”
Tempie stiffened, knowing even the suggestion was far beyond the bounds of acceptable limits. To actually indulge in such a thing would be the height of folly. She couldn’t imagine even married women, who did something vague and disgusting-sounding with their husbands, according to her aunt, let their husbands kiss their bubbies.
After a moment, Ashby leaned back. “You should go to bed now, Temperance.”
Yes, she should, but she didn’t want to. “I would like you to show me more kissing, Ashby.”
He froze for a second. “On your mouth?”
She shook her head, keeping her gaze fixed on her lap. She looked up when he touched her chin to nudge her head in his direction. His expression took her breath away. He looked like he wanted to devour her. Instead of scaring her, it gave her a heady sense of bliss.
“Very well.” Ashby stood up, brin
ging his hands to the shoulders of her dress. With light tugging, he brought down the sleeves and the square neckline, along with her boned chemise.
The air was cool against her breasts, and her nipples tightened. She would have covered her breasts with her hands if his proximity hadn’t prevented it.
“You have beautiful breasts, Tempie.” He didn’t seem aware of her embarrassment as he cupped one in his hand, rubbing his thumb across the nipple.
She gasped at the sensation. It had been enjoyable to have Pru rub her nipples through layers of fabric, but this was much more intense. Her breasts tingled, and her nipples seemed like they would burst if they got any harder. The roughness of the pad of his thumb did delightful things to her senses as he stroked it across her sensitive bud.
Ashby leaned her back slightly and bent his head, taking the other nipple in his mouth.
Through the haze of pleasure, she managed to say, “That is not kissing, Ashby.”
He released her nipple. “’Tis a form of kissing.” This time, he pressed a chaste, closed-mouth kiss to her nipple. “However, if you prefer that type of kissing, I shan’t try to persuade you to change your mind.”
Tempie moaned. “Nay, the first is a good deal more enjoyable.”
He returned to her breast, sucking her nipple as he continued stroking the other. She cried out when he traced the shape of her nipple with his tongue, and then blew on it before sucking again. A rush of liquid between her thighs made her tense, and she pushed him away. “Please, stop. Something is wrong.”
Ashby seemed dazed with desire. “What is it? Have I hurt you?”
She shook her head, too embarrassed to tell him her problem, but also terrified something was broken. “I think I need a physician,” she said softly.
He frowned. “Are you ailing? What bothers you, Tempie?”
Summoning her courage, she said, “I am leaking, sir.”
Ashby frowned. “Leaking? I do not understand.” His gaze moved to her breasts, as though checking for possible dripping. “Where are you leaking?”
Could her face get any hotter? She pressed her hands to her cheeks, as if she could physically push back the flush of humiliation. “Down there, sir, in my woman parts.” If she had thought discussing menstruation with her aunt had been awkward and uncomfortable, it didn’t compare at all to this conversation. To her surprise, he smiled. “Please send for a physician.”
