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Something inside Cora shattered at Manuela’s confession. She could never be this strong. Not even with Sally—yes, she’d begged and pleaded, but she’d come to realize it had been out of bruised pride, not love. Sally had made everything easy for Cora. Had agreed with every opinion, concurred with every decision. She’d inflated Cora’s vanity, and when she’d cast her aside, she’d lashed out. Nothing with Manuela had been simple or comfortable. At every turn this woman had challenged her notions of herself, of what it meant to be strong.
“Come with me,” she said, too much emotion clogging her throat to say more. Thankfully Manuela allowed herself to be led into Cora’s bedchambers.
Once she’d closed the door, Cora couldn’t wait and pressed Manuela against the wall to kiss her again.
“The only one who should be mortified is me. I should’ve been on a train for Edinburgh the morning after you left. Did you truly come back for me?”
“Cora,” Manuela’s tone was reproachful, like she couldn’t believe she dared ask. Then her expression became a bit more determined, stronger. “In truth, I also wanted to make some arrangements regarding the collective,” she added. Something about the way she said it made Cora frown.
“What kind of arrangements?”
“I was considering having the funds from the sale of Baluarte put in a trust, to fund the first few years.” Cora did not like the sound of that. If Manuela gave away those funds, she’d be left with no means of escaping that blasted marriage in the future.
“I have already talked to Cassandra about helping them,” she lied. She hadn’t done any such thing, but she would if it meant that Manuela didn’t throw away her only protection.
“You did?” Manuela cried, happily, circling her arms around Cora’s neck.
“Yes, and I will help them, but I don’t like the idea of you parting with the funds from Baluarte.”
Manuela gave her a wry look, clearly confused by Cora’s insistence. But after a moment she smiled, pressing herself closer. “Tell me you missed me,” she said.
She had no idea how any of this would work. She was set to announce the railway at a reception at the British embassy in a week. The consortium was waiting for the deed to vote for the chairperson. All the things she’d been working for years to achieve, and yet nothing in that moment felt more important than showing this woman the ferocity with which she needed her.
“More than air, princesa. I promise there will be no doubt in your mind how much, by the time I’ve had my way with you,” Cora stated with absolute honesty, as her hands worked to undo the fastenings of Manuela’s skirts. When she tried to help, Cora shook her head and took a playful bite out of one breast. “I’ll work on the bottom, you work the top, sweetheart. I want you naked and with my head between your legs in the next five minutes, and that will require a concerted effort.”
Manuela, bless her nimble fingers and horny heart, had herself in nothing but her chemise in seconds while Cora pulled off her own skirts, petticoats and boots.
“Unbutton it,” she demanded, her voice hoarse.
“You too,” Manuela commanded, and Cora, who had only been in a tea gown, quickly began undressing herself while she watched. Manuela took off her chemise with impressive patience. Slowly, so slowly, undoing one button after another until Cora could see a strip of golden brown skin down to her navel. She tugged on the edges, exposing those beautiful, heavy breasts.
“They’re hard for me,” Cora whispered, forcing restraint. She didn’t think she’d have this woman again, and she’d be damned if she rushed it. “Pluck on the tips, love,” she asked in the quiet of the room. She watched her lover tweak and pinch, feeling her own arousal pooling between her legs, but unwilling to relieve the ache yet.
Manuela Caceres Galvan was a feast to be savored. A woman to love languidly, with deliberate focus. Plundering and conquering was for men: women plowed, cultivated. Manuela’s body was sacred ground, and Cora would give it the devotion and nurturing it deserved until she harvested a bounty of moans and cries of pleasure.
“Let me see your concha, amor.”
The Spanish surprised Manuela, a naughty little smile tugging up her lips as she said, “Sí, mi duquesa.” She slid the straps of the chemise off her shoulders and soon the lace-and-linen garment was pooled at her feet, revealing all that lushness for Cora’s enjoyment. She had to breathe through the need clawing at her.
“Bed,” she managed to say.
She looked at Manuela lying on the bed with her curls fanned out on the satin sheets. A goddess, the reward Cora didn’t deserve but would humbly receive.
“Make love to me,” Manuela whispered as she planted her feet on the bed, her knees wide apart. Cora’s mouth watered at the sight and climbed between her lover’s thighs. She traced a trail of kisses up one leg then the other, encouraged by Manuela’s sighs and moans.
“I have been dying for this,” she said, her mouth pressed to that hot, wet heat, and spread her with two fingers. She licked inside, quickly turning sweet sighs into urgent cries.
“Harder, darling,” Manuela asked, rolling her hips in Cora’s mouth and fingers. She pinched the clitoris, then rubbed up and down the slippery folds while her princess writhed under her, clutching the sheets as she cried Cora’s name.
“Mi amor, to boca,” she begged, and who was she to deny this woman anything. She sucked on those dewy lips, grazed them with her teeth as her fingers scissored in out of her slippery channel.
“You are so sweet.” As she talked, she kept rubbing that spot inside while Manuela’s leg shook with her cresting climax. “I love hearing your scream for me,” she said, before dipping back in and sucking hard on her lover’s engorged clitoris. She tasted the climax as strongly as she felt the waves of it crashing through Manuela, until she slumped boneless on the bed. “That’s it, sweetheart,” she cooed, still tasting and licking until she felt Manuela’s hands tighten on her. She raised her head and found her lover staring back at her with hooded eyes and a sated look that rearranged everything inside Cora.
“I want to tasteyounow,” Manuela said, eliciting an almost painful tug between her legs. “Will you let me?” she asked, eyes hungry. Her lusty princess. Always wanting more.
“What exactly did you have in mind?” Cora asked innocently, even as she sat up and straddled Manuela’s hips.
“I’d like for you to come up here.” She circled a finger over her face, her eyes still on Cora. The walls inside her clenched with need in response. She was aching for Manuela’s mouth.
