From the Baroness’s Diary III

Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Am I ok with being with three men? I’m not even sure what that means. One minute I feel like I’m getting everything I ever wanted and the next I feel like I’ve taken a hard punch in my stomach.

Mon Dieu, it is such a difficult decision.

I think about the pros and cons.

First of all, bearing the mood of three men—at least, two—at the same time seems a bit too much for me. Oh, oui, because a girl has to be practical, n’est ce pas? And sometimes, just one man’s ego can be far too heavy a burden.

But I can not walk away from my love again.

I can not live without Salvatore’s kisses, the way he makes me feel, and happily go back to that rainy, miserable country and a loveless marriage. The illusions of my happiness had died quickly, even before I knew where my husband’s true affections resided, and if he ever goes home—not when—things will never be the same between us.

Joseph could rut between my thighs, but all the while I would picture that night in the guest bedroom, when I learned what his true passions were.

Again, I am not blaming him for this marriage. Or for his preference for men.

Non, not a bit.

He is a prisoner of conventions, rules, and laws. A bit like me. We are two people caught in the snares of society and privilege, doing what is expected of us and not what we wish to do.

But how can I walk away from my love, my heart, once more? And I think I am already falling in love with Enzo, too.

And what to say of deliciously angry Angelo? He is the most perfect thing I have ever seen in my life. An angel, although not a bit cherubic.

Even if I don’t stay, I will carry the image of the brothers in my mind until the day I die.

And believe me, I will stroke myself thinking of these male monuments all wanting to dedicate themselves to me.

Oh. I can hear society’s thoughts now, judging me. But being married to an older man like Joseph—a repressed gay older man, at that, poor husband of mine—makes someone like Angelo, someone deliciously younger than me and so sweet, almost innocent, completely irresistible.

I will pray for some clarification in church tomorrow.

Even if it seems really odd to pray to God, asking if I should have a 3-way, or rather a 4-way s****l relationship, I still take comfort from prayer after so many years of doing it when I needed internal peace.

Argh. I recognize that the God I learned of in the convent won’t approve of what I’ve done, so why am I going to church to pray about making this…this…oh, mènage à trois a permanent situation? Maybe even a mènage à quatre, since we are thinking of adding one more man to it.

Dieu!

I promise myself I will be good. But the moment I return with Salvatore from our afternoon stroll and see Enzo watching me from the window with a hungry smile and devilish eyes, his shirt undone, I know I won’t survive the night without sinning.

I try to think of an excuse not to go down to dinner but Paola is the one who knocks on my bedroom door and informs me it will be served in five minutes—obviously, I can’t refuse—so I go down with her.

We all have a quiet dinner in Salvatore’s cozy kitchen and Paola takes Anna home early to their house a few feet away from this one. Even if it’s clear the young woman wants to stay with us for a last glass of grappa. I think she may be adapting to my presence here. I hope it’s so. Angelo retires after mumbling an excuse of tiredness.

The vineyard makes for much work, but I am sure Angelo’s tiredness is an excuse. When I finish my wine, feeling a little bleary and sleepy myself, I turn to bid Enzo goodnight.

But I don’t get out the words. Salvatore’s lips cut off my words and his fingers spread upon my spine, pulling me close against his virile body.

As he kisses me, I reach to touch his face, to convince myself, oui, oui, I’m with him now. His kiss deepens as I scratch at the rough texture of his stubble. My Salvatore.

He has not kissed me like this yet, so intense and long and deep I can barely breathe.

I love the voracious nature of his lust.

When his tongue sweeps inside my mouth, I do the same to him, questing to possess him with as much passion as he possesses me.

I forget Enzo is still with us in the room until he makes a rough sound.

I feel a shudder run down my spine, excitement building in my core.

Salvatore pulls away suddenly, but I don’t have time to think as Enzo steps forward into his place.

Slowly, he leans closer and orders, “Give me a kiss.”

After I glance at Salvatore briefly and receive an encouraging smile from him, I stand on tip-toe and place a quick kiss on his lips.

Before I can go back down, Enzo’s hand pulls my hair tight in his fist. Tilting my head back, he whispers against my lips, “I think you can give me a better kiss than that, don’t you?”

I don’t know exactly what is the…hmm…protocol of a ménage. I glance again in Salvatore’s direction and I panic for a moment, thinking he has left, that he’s hurt by me kissing his brother in front of him, depraved woman that I am.

But then I feel him on my back. He has just moved behind me, sandwiching me between his firm body and Enzo’s.

Then…oh…he cups my face and then slowly guides it back to Enzo’s.

Oh, mon Dieu!

That is so very hot.

Enzo apparently thinks so too because his blue eyes go dark and his mouth parts in a heavy breath.

I lick my lips and my tongue brushes against Enzo’s bottom lip. I can taste a hint of grappa.

And then he takes control, his mouth pressing down on mine, taking advantage of the opening to slide his tongue between my lips.

This is nothing like Salvatore’s intense kiss was.

It’s even more rough and desperate, making it hard to catch my breath.

Then I am kissing Enzo back with just as much vigor.

His taste is a little different, a little more spiced and raw than Salvatore’s. Not better, just different, and it agrees with his more abrasive personality.

I taste the grappa he has drunk and I don’t know if I am dizzy from it or from these two men giving me attention like this.

Oh, well, I do know.

Anyway, I can’t believe I’m kissing them, and I really can’t believe they’re okay with swapping like this. It’s so strange, so bizarre, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.

Enzo slowly pulls away.

“Let’s go up,” Salvatore grunts, restlessly grinding his c**k at my back.

“We want to f**k you. Together,” Enzo says, staring at me with those intense blue eyes of his. “Do you want that, Principessa?”

I am confused, but I trust them. Why, I am not sure, but I do. “I-I think I’d like to try.”

Salvatore guides me up the stairs with Enzo at our heels. He takes me to my bedroom, that now I know to be the master bedroom and leads me toward the huge bed.

When I start to climb up on it, Salvatore yanks me back by the waist and bends me over it instead, drawing up my skirt.

Cool air hits my backside as he bares it.

I have to close my eyes because I want him to spank me now for being dirty as he usually did when I moaned and cried out my pleasure, when I demanded more.

But no.

He undoes his jeans, shoves them down, and presses against me from behind. His c**k is hot and hard against my backside.

“I’d give you a nice little spanking for torturing us for so long and for being such a delicious temptress, but I need to go back to the vineyard, so things will be quick this time.”

My skin prickles as, slightly leaning forward, Enzo pulls out my blouse and then places both hands on my shoulders and, very slowly, slides them to my back, finding my bra hook and unclasping it, letting it fall down my arms and onto the floor.

I reach to cover my breasts but Enzo is quick to kneel on the bed and grabs both my wrists in his big hand and pulls my arms over my head. “You don’t hide from us.”

There’s no need for instructions or rehearsal. They do know what they are doing. I’m glad for that because I have no idea how to behave in such a…erm…situation.

The moment he lets go of my arms, his hands are on my naked breasts, gently, his fingers brushing over my hard n*****s and pinching them.

The warmness of his fingers makes me moan.

“Sei bella, Principessa.” He bends down and kisses me, making me feel as beautiful as he has just whispered to me.

As Enzo takes control, I feel Salvatore move and slide his mouth down my shoulder, and down to my spine and then shoving my skirt down, his tongue circles my ass, continues down to my thighs. After he kisses the back of my knees, he comes back again, now mixing little bites to his kisses and tonguing.

Before I do anything, Salvatore’s hands are on the inside on my thighs, slowly spreading my legs open, and his big body is sliding down on the floor to settle himself right between my legs.

“Sí, Cara. Like that.” Salvatore runs his middle finger along my lower lips, causing me to moan. “Gesù, you’re so f*****g wet already.”

This…these men…it is doing all kinds of crazy things to me. My n*****s are hard under Enzo’s ministrations, aching for his mouth and his teeth.

Salvatore takes one long lick between my p***y lips, making me arch, panting for breath. “So sweet, Cara.”

His hands slide under my butt, pulling me closer, onto his mouth, and he devours me.

I thought I had seen the height of his passion and desire in our trysts back at the manor, but this…this is a whole new level. It’s like he can’t get enough of me.

I thrash around, trying to break free from his mouth and hands, theirs—but that only seems to make them more frantic, licking, sucking, tugging and kissing me like I am the only—and last—woman in the world.

I break my kiss with Enzo and I scream, “Please. I can’t take it.”

I hear Salvatore growl something I can’t understand onto my c**t, but his brother understands.

Enzo pulls me up into his arms and onto the bed as Salvatore lays down on it.

“This is what we want from you,” Enzo whispers to in my ear. “We want to take your body. Use it whenever we want, if you’re willing. Give you pleasure, make you feel things you never pictured. Can you handle that, Tesoro?”

“I think so,” I whispers back. “I want it right now. Dieu, I need it.”

“I’m not sure you can handle all three of us yet,” Salvatore says. “But we’ll get you there.”

“How?” I moan.

“By doing this.”

Before I know what is happening I am impaled on Salvatore’s large c**k and Enzo grabs my ass roughly with both hands and spreads me wide, squeezing lube over my hole. “Che bello cullo.”

Oh. I can’t believe they will both take me at the same time.

But take me they do.

“I’m gonna come in now too, Tesoro. Relax.” Enzo’s voice is low and deep as he pushes his c**k in, stretching me as the head of his large d**k pops through my tight ring.

“Oh, oh,” I cry in a haze of pleasure-pain, of fullness I have never experienced before.

“Shh, it’s gonna be okay, Cara. Relax,” Salvatore makes soft noises, his fingers circling my c**t in rapid movements. As he pulls me down for a kiss, he repeats, “Just relax.”

I am greedy for it—for them—for the pleasure and pain of fullness. As soon as Enzo is all inside me, I can tell they feel it, too.

They both let out a sound, a mix of a deep breath and a groan at the same time.

As Salvatore begins to move, Enzo matches his tempo perfectly. He whispers in my ear, “Feel how full we make you? You love it, don’t you?”

Oui, I love it.

To say they know what they are doing is putting it lightly. They are masterful.

I tense up, I am going to come but I want them to ride the roller coaster with me and they seem to have just started.

“I need to come,” I whisper to Salvatore.

“We’re going to have to teach her to control it, make it last longer so she can come harder,” Enzo says to his brother, but the way he whispers near my ear…oh, it’s so sexy!

But as their rhythm picks up, I decide I don’t want to learn anything right now.

“Principessa, come for me,” Enzo demands, as if he senses it is not the time to teach me a lesson, no matter how pleasurable it can be.

“Dieu!” I scream as I shoot high to an incredible peak of climax and I hear Enzo’s and Salvatore’s shouts of release as I clench around their c***s.

As I close my eyes in a sated and exhausted slumber, in the arms of my lovers, it feels so natural to share and be shared this way, but still my thoughts are of Angelo.

How will he be in bed?

And how can I possibly take care of three men at the same time?

How can I ever show my face in church after this?

I can’t.

Because I will never be forgiven now. Not after what I did.

But I will go.

I have already asked Salvatore and Enzo to accompany me. I approach Angelo, because I want him with us. “Are you coming to church with us?”

And now I have to go, because he accepts. Which makes his older brothers watch him with their mouths open.

As soon as Angelo leaves the room, Enzo and Salvatore sit me on the sofa.

In hushed and broken whispers, they tell me about…oh, the poor angel…his problem. Or what they think has happened with Angelo in his adolescence. Because Angelo never confessed anything. Nor had they asked.

If they are right, it will explain so much about how he behaves.