AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“But surely they could hear us,” princess persisted, her breaths coming in quick, agitated spurts now.
“You like the idea of my maid hearing you scream for me, princess?” Another one of those delicious moans escaped Manuela, making Cora’s head spin. God but she was everything she’d ever dreamed of. “Mm, this is not how I imagined bedding a duchess would be.” Cora paused at that and lifted her gaze to Manuela’s face. The smile on her princess’s lips practically shoutedDebauch me!
Cora gently pushed her against the wall and leaned in to kiss the valley between her breasts, her tongue dipping into that warmth. “That’s because you’re about to bed a miner’s daughter, querida.”
Manuela’s mouth tipped up sinfully, leaning lazily between two paintings. “Oh, now I’m intrigued.”
Cora licked into her mouth, languidly tangling her tongue with Manuela’s, before pulling back so she could unhook her bodice. “I want them in my mouth,” she whispered, feeling that sweet tug of desire between her thighs. Once Manuela’s breasts were free, she cupped them with her hands, pushing them together. She lashed the tight brown tips of her nipples with her tongue, all the while looking up at the heiress, who had the back of her head pressed to the wall, her bruised lips parted as the most delicious little sounds escaped them.
“Beautiful, the feel of them in my hands.” Cora tightened her fingers, as Manuela pressed further against her. “How can a face like an angel’s make me want to do such wicked things?” Cora asked, making her laugh. That sound, it was like the first rain after months of drought. She wanted to be the cause of it. Have her kisses, her touch draw them out enough that she memorized it. “I want to do exquisitely depraved things to you.” A fluttering of eyelashes, and then those molten brown eyes focused on her.
“Yes, please.” Cora would, God, she would spend hours lost in her.
They worked together to undo what felt like hundreds of skirts until the heiress was down to her combination. Finally Cora could reach between the slit of Manuela’s garment. Her breath caught as her fingers encountered that slippery warmth. She parted the mound of curls and ran the pad of her fingers down the wet seam.
“Mm, Cora,” her princess moaned, her hips pressing into the caress.
“You’re so hot and swollen for me,” she whispered, searching for that tight little pearl. When she found it and rubbed a tight circle over it, Manuela let out a hoarse scream, already shaking with pleasure. “Mm, yes, you like that,” Cora said, mouth pressed to Manuela’s neck, her teeth grazing the skin. “Come for me.” She gasped, sliding two fingers into that velvety channel, all the while tangling her tongue with Manuela’s.
“I’m going to fall apart,” Manuela said, voice tight. Cora pressed their mouths together and kissed her hard enough to draw blood, pinching that bundle of nerves at the same time. Manuela’s climax rushed through her in the next instant, her body stiffening, her screams of pleasure flowing into Cora’s mouth.
Her body was so soft. Cora wanted to drown in her. Touch her until her hands knew Manuela’s body as her own. “You needed that sweetheart,” she said softly, her hands still roaming over every inch of exposed skin she could find. Feeling the need to touch, to feel this woman’s body that she’d craved so fiercely. Even as she realized that having her once had only made her need that much stronger.
Manuela nodded in response, even as she took Cora’s head between her hands and kissed her deeply, a fervent, rough kiss that she could do nothing but lose herself in. Her princess was hungrier now. The shyness at their arrival replaced with powerful need.
“Take me to your room,” she begged, between biting kisses. “I want to see you. I want to touch you too.”
Cora was in the wind, floating in the gusts of this woman. It was always going to be this way. Cora capitulating to this hunger, walking into her own undoing with her eyes wide open. She could already feel it, the craving for more of what Manuela made her feel already at work, eroding her defenses.
“This way,” she said in defiance to her own common sense as she took Manuela by the hand. Even a month ago this would’ve been unthinkable. Cora had never allowed anyone in her bedchamber after Sally. Had never even been tempted, and here she was pulling Manuela into her most private space. “Here it is.” She let Manuela go in first and hung behind, the blood rushing to her temples as she waited for the reaction.
“Cora, this...” Manuela’s voice drifted as she looked around the room. The wall that looked out onto the garden was almost all glass, giving a lovely view of the illuminated city at night. Eiffel’s tower shone in the distance. Cora’s heart hammered, suddenly feeling quite vulnerable to be revealing her secrets. “This is so...” The heiress began again, as she turned in circles, adorable in just her linen combination, taking in the room, and Cora came up behind her, wrapping her arms around her. Anxious, but wanting the other woman too much to stay away.
“Eye-wateringly pink?” she finally said in a self-mocking tone, making Manuela laugh with delight. She was unreasonably nervous about this. What did she care what Manuela thought about her rooms? She’d done them this way to please herself. There wasn’t a single opinion besides hers that mattered, and yet her heart felt like a fist as she waited.
“It is an explosion of pink,” Manuela retorted, eyes wide and bright, but still not saying what she really thought. Cora’s bedchamber was large. It took up almost a quarter of the space of her floor in the house. This was her sanctuary, decorated and outfitted to her exact taste, and other than the housekeeper, her lady’s maid, Cassie and Tia Osiris, no one had ever entered it, not even Alfie.
“I was expecting a very sober room with dark colors,” Manuela admitted, turning to face Cora, beaming. “This is so much better.”
“Are you teasing me?” Cora asked, feigning offense.
“Teasing you?” She looked absolutely horrified at the suggestion, and something in Cora’s chest pulsed with a feeling that had gotten her in awfully hot water at another time in her life. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so absolutely magical. That chair is made of pink damask!” She pointed excitedly at one of the two armchairs in front of the fireplace. Another one of those very tight coils inside Cora loosened at Manuela’s obvious admiration.
How would she get herself back in order...after?
She had always cultivated an image of restraint and moderation. In her dress and in her manner. She made sure she was always dressed finely, not a hair out of place, but in no way giving an inkling of her inner self. She spent her life in hiding, in many ways even from those closest to her. But in this place, she was just Corazón. She’d never known sharing it with someone could make her feel so replete.
“I think,” she finally said, her arms still wrapped around Manuela’s waist, “I’d like to have a taste of you while you sit in one of my chairs.”
She’d brought the large wingbacks from Benedict’s household and had had them reupholstered in a dark fuchsia. Manuela was looking at them like they were Queen Victoria’s throne. “Only since you seem to like them so much.” Manuela made an urgent, needy sound, pressing her delicious rump against Cora.
“I’d like that.” Without hesitation the stepped out of her combination and stood there gloriously naked for Cora’s view. Manuela was so eager, so unabashedly honest in her desires. It was addictive; it was impairing. She could barely think straight.
“But all your clothes are still on,” Manuela protested weakly, as she dropped into the plush pink chair like a hedonistic empress. Her brown skin flushed with a tint of pink, her heavy breasts swaying as her breaths got shorter. Her belly was soft and just below was that thatch of reddish-brown curls concealing that hidden treasure Cora could barely wait to taste.
“I suppose they are.” Cora looked down at herself almost in surprise. She was still fully dressed, but the need to possess Manuela was so consuming, she couldn’t concern herself with that. Manuela looked like one of the maidens from Cora’s fresco. Ripe and luscious and eager to be pleasured. “I can’t be bothered with clothes, princesa,” she told Manuela, going down to her knees.
In most areas of her life she preferred order. She liked her home, her business, her staff, her domain neat and predictable. But with a lover, in a bed, she reveled in the delicious chaos of it all. If there was one thing she’d learned, it was that pleasure tore off the mask. For those short seconds when the only thing that mattered was reaching for that instant of glory, there was no posturing, no pretending, there was nothing but frantic, raw need, and Cora very much enjoyed being the one whose hands, mouth, tongue could give that gift to another. She took great satisfaction in pulling at all the threads that held them together. Was endlessly gratified to see a lover slump back on the mattress utterly wrung out, a blissful smile on their lips. The difference was that tonight, with Manuela, Cora was unraveling too.
