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Manuela was a madwoman.
What Cora had given her had been life-altering. She’d never thought she could be so fully in her body as she’d been when Cora made love to her. Every kiss, every caress was electric, shocking in the pleasure it brought her. It felt so natural to be like this, so utterly right.
Manuela had not expected that.
Even in the moments when she’d been frantic from wanting Cora, she never expected it to feel so...vital. Like her body was finally being used the way it was meant to be. Like the pulls and levers of her were built for Cora’s hand, and she was being unlocked with every touch, and now she wanted to do the same for her duchess. She was crazed with the need to make this woman, who could seem so cold but made love like a lioness, feel as cherished.
“You are like a lamprey!” Cora cried as Manuela straddled her, but her tone was not one of protest. There was a lightness in her eyes, a looseness in her limbs, that made a wellspring of tenderness bubble up inside Manuela. They were on the rug in front of the roaring fireplace, and the flickering flames cast Cora’s face in gold. She looked like one of the women in her paintings. So exquisite Manuela’s heart skipped.
“You look like you were dipped in gold,” she told her and leaned down to kiss the apple of her cheeks where the light flickered in a particularly striking way.
“The way you look at me,” Cora said and pressed a hand to her stomach.
“I want you,” she said, hoarsely.
“Then, have me, princesa.” She could not bear another second of seeing Cora in all those clothes.
“Skin!” she exclaimed in triumph as she managed to rip off Cora’s tie and unbuttoned her vest. “Aurora is right, fashion is the first line of defense for women’s oppression,” she groused, making Cora laugh. “You must sit for me, I need to draw you,” she said, quietly, sliding a finger down the side of Cora’s face. Tracing those sharp cheekbones and stubborn jaw.
“I am not a very good sitter. I fidget too much.” Cora smiled ruefully, pressing her face into Manuela’s touch, then playfully taking one of Manuela’s fingers between her teeth. She laughed, even as her stomach clenched with something new and scary, something she could not allow to take root. Survival, for her, for her parents, depended on keeping the rules as they’d set them. She distracted herself with undoing more buttons. Cora’s own hands gripped Manuela’s hips, fingers digging in as more and more skin was revealed.
“My challenge will be to make it so you are nice and relaxed for the sitting, then,” she said suggestively, making Cora chuckle again. It was a sound she’d never heard before. Not that harsh, sardonic laugh from their luncheon, or even the warm but aloof one from their dinner parties. This was lusty and slightly addled. This was amorous, languid Cora, and despite herself, Manuela fell even deeper.
After the vest was pulled away and the tie tossed aside, the blouse was next, exposing more of that taut olive skin. Manuela was plump, her bottom and her breasts full and generous. Cora was rangy and slim, her breasts tight and firm. A body that seemed as practical as the woman it belonged to. There was also a restless energy to Cora. Her eyes always calculating. Windows to a mind that was constantly racing. But tonight, there was a serenity in those violet eyes. Knowing she was partly the reason for it broke Manuela open.
I’ve traded away so much, but this is my prize, she thought, and as she flicked the buttons on the chemise, she leaned down to place a kiss on her lover’s lips.
You are my prize, Corazón.
“I don’t know what to kiss first,” she laughed, tweaking sensitive nipples.
“I have a few suggestions,” Cora groaned, as she dipped one of those clever fingers inside Manuela. She rocked into the pleasure climbing up her limbs in seconds. Manuela let Cora explore her, a thumb circling her clitoris, a finger pushing in and out of her heat as she occupied herself with running her hands over every inch of visible skin.
Once every piece of clothing was pulled to the side and every button and hook had been undone, Manuela descended on Cora, ravenously. She pressed biting kisses to that slender neck, licked down the valley between the perky breasts, stopping to give each one a long, hungry kiss. She licked into Cora’s navel, all the while feeling those long limbs scissoring under her.
“Are you hot and bothered, Your Grace?” she asked, as she pushed up the obtrusive skirts. Thankfully Cora was a much more sensible dresser than Manuela, and there were only two layers to reckon with between herself and what she was searching for.
“I am getting impatient,” Cora protested, a mix of humor and desire visible on her beautiful face.
“Well, we can’t have that. What kind of guest would I be if I made my hostess wait?” Manuela muttered as she pulled up the chemise to Cora’s waist. She didn’t hesitate and positioned herself right at the apex of Cora’s thighs. “May I?”
“If you only would,” Cora answered tightly, but there was a breathy sigh at the end and that was all she needed. Her thumbs parted the rosy lips to get a look. She sucked in a breath at the sight. She’d never seen anyone else this close. She knew whatshelooked like. Aurora had lectured her enough times in the importance of being at ease with her intimate parts, and Manuela had heeded her advice to look at herself with a mirror, but she’d never seen another. Cora was beautiful, the textures and scent of her so similar and yet singularly hers.
“This is marvelous,” Manuela praised, admiring her lover in the light of the fire.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard it called that,” Cora gasped, as Manuela ran her thumb over the inner labia and felt the supple skin there that was slippery and silky all at once.
“Just like a perfectly juicy mamey,” she smiled, emotion suddenly closing her throat. She pressed her lips to that secret place and slid her tongue over the length of it. The smell of Cora, salty, like the earth, like the sea, like everything that held life. She flicked the stiff red peak at the very top and felt Cora stiffen before a tortured little moan escaped her.
She wanted to please this woman, to unravel her. To see this duchess, who had made herself so hard—who the world had toughened—melt. “Quiero darte placer,” Manu whispered and licked inside again. She suckled on delicate skin and let her fingers play. Soon Cora’s climax rushed through her, her back bowing on the rug, her violet eyes burning Manuela, as a reedy sigh escaped her lips.
After, Manuela kissed her way back up Cora’s body, leaving a wet trail along her belly, her breasts and neck until she reached a sweet, smiling mouth. The duchess’s face was soft, no tight lines around her mouth, no furrows in her brow.
“You are hell on my plans, Manuela Caceres,” she said, reaching for her.
“I am a bit of a disrupter,” Manuela admitted, pressing a smiling kiss to Cora’s mouth.
“What am I going to do with you?” the duchess groaned, wrapping her arms around Manuela, and her heart kicked up into a frantic staccato. Absurd things flew through her mind at the question, and she pushed them down as far as they could go. She could have this now, if she kept her head. There was no future here, but there wasnow.
