Queen for a Day (BBW Billionaire Romance) (4 page)

It was midnight and I didn't know if the bell was on its ringing peal or its last. I raced back to the suitcases. In pulling out the cosmetic cases, I had also removed the outfit Parisi had draped over the bag before leaving me alone for the night to make my decision.

I wrapped the skirt around my waist and secured its clasp. My brain wasn't done warring with my emotions. The preoccupation made my fingers stupid as I secured the bustier.

The bell sounded again. Was that just three or had I drowned out more?

I rushed to the door of the suite, gripped the handle and froze.

Opening the door isn't a commitment, Nadine.

I nodded at myself. I could slam it shut if whatever awaited me in the hall seemed too freaky.

Everything I was perched on the sharp edge of indecision, waiting for a sign.

No sign came, nothing at all. No sign, no sound, no assistance.

No sound -- the bells had stopped.

Midnight had come and gone.

Too late, too late! My mind screamed at me as I yanked the door open and found my future waiting in front of me, its as yet explored contours framed by the sensual, expectant smiles of two men I had already encountered on my trip.

Franco and Benito Bassani.

********************

The brothers were dressed the same -- which was barely dressed at all. They wore leather sandals and the steel studded war skirts of Roman soldiers, the black leather cut into a dozen or more strips that revealed the absence of any undergarment whenever they moved.

The only difference between them was that Benito had replaced the discreet nose ring with a thicker, bigger ring that ended with two ball caps and a gap.

Stunned by their presence, I let each brother capture one of my wrists. They lead me through the expansive house. I couldn't keep track of the corridors or rooms we passed through, but whenever we were presented with a choice to go down or up, they chose down. The air became more humid and I thought I could smell the Venetian lagoon around us as salt water pinched my nose.

Every time my steps stalled, they coaxed me forward with tame caresses and soft murmuring until at least we came to a room of shadows and flickering candlelight. In the center of the room was a long, gilded bench covered in a metallic fabric of buttery yellow. Next to it on the floor rested a silver bowl with gold-foiled packets that answered the question I hadn't yet had the sense to ask.

Beyond the weak circle of light was darkness except for the dancing reflection of the candles' flames in a lattice of burnished metal that stood opposite the door. The smell of the bay was thick in the air, and, if I stayed motionless, I could hear the gentle lapping of water over rock. Caught in the loose embrace of the Bassani brothers, my body moved with the sound of the water.

Franco placed me on the bench. One of his long legs slid behind me as he straddled the seat. Fingertips cascaded down my back, the sensation of their light touch sparking out in a million directions. I arched my spine, my breasts pressing upward as my eyes drifted shut.

Sightless, I could hear everything. Franco taking slow, steady breaths from where he sat behind me, the brush of flesh against the stone floor as Benito knelt at the foot of the bench, the water somewhere on the other side of the screen, not just lapping over stone but dripping from where the moisture collected against a vaulted ceiling I could only guess at.

I heard other bodies breathing, harsher than the brothers who touched me but at a greater distance, one off to each of my sides so that I was the center point on a compass. Opening my eyes, my vision adjusted to the near darkness. The ceiling above me was ragged, so were the walls. The floor was smoother but uneven. I looked left and then right to the points were I heard the heavier respiration.

Two uneven alcoves emerged from the darkness, each one populated by a solitary shadow.

Was Parisi one of them?

Slowly, I shook my head, denying the possibility.

"Please,
bella
," Franco whispered in my ear as he removed the bustier. "Don't deny us. Our eyes have been starving for just a glimpse of you since we departed, our tongues for the faintest taste. Look at my brother, the bull, and see how much he aches."

My gaze drifted to Benito. He was on his knees in front of me, but his height ensured that I could see his cock fighting to part the leather strips of his war skirt and fully reveal itself.

"Can you see the ache?" Franco asked, his lips warm against my ear.

I nodded. Water licked at stone somewhere beyond the screen. Was Parisi there, watching through the metal lattice, remote and unattainable?

"You see how much he wants you, but still you deny him,
bella.
" Franco punctuated the accusation with a kiss to the curve of my neck. "Are you a cruel beauty, then? A heartless queen?"

I shook my head. This was a game to them, a game to Parisi, something rehearsed and played over and over with one woman after another. Whatever cruelty existed on that island, it wasn't mine.

"Then open to him." Franco's fingers danced against the skirt that clung to my damp skin in long strips that had turned completely transparent.

The fabric peeled away at his insistence, but I kept my legs pressed together, shielding a more intimate view. Behind me, I felt the flex of Franco's muscles and the rub of his erection against my unguarded spine.

"Maybe you think he's unworthy, maybe his desire offends you?"

I tried to shake my head again. The man on his knees in front of me was a demi-god, all tanned muscle, smooth and hairless with a light sheen to the dark gold skin. His eyes were bottomless pools. But I couldn't do what they were asking.

The weight of Franco at my back vanished. He stepped past me and ordered his brother onto his hands and knees then made him crawl a few feet beyond the end of the divan so that I could see all of him.

"Strip and face the wall," Franco coldly ordered as he removed his own war skirt.

Benito complied, the change in position giving me a side view of his body. His cock was hard, its length and girth stirring fresh anxiety inside me. The tension pounding through me doubled again when Franco rolled his skirt with its viciously studded strips of leather facing outward into an impromptu flogger.

I whimpered in protest as Franco drew his arm behind him then whimpered again when the leather and steel smacked hard against Benito's broad shoulders. He grunted, the sound his only acknowledgement of pain, and then his cock swelled a little bigger.

Franco's head swiveled slowly in my direction. "Will you still deny him,
bella?
"

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! Would the blows continue until I relented or fled?

I looked at the door we had entered through. It was shut, made of cast iron, heavier than me and with its bolt slid through the catch.

Another smack of leather and steel against muscle and weathered skin yanked my focus back to the brothers. This time, Benito bore the pain without protest. His cock looked like it had grown again and his testicles hung big and low. A third blow landed and pre-cum began to drip from the head.

"Stop," I whispered. Horror gripped me, horror at the brutality, horror at the pleasure both brothers took in the act and, most of all, horror at how much wetter I had become while watching.

"Make me,
bella
," Franco demanded. He walked to the foot of the bench then called Benito to heel. "Open your legs and let him taste you or go hide in your room. But if you stay here all locked up and hiding from your desires, I'll beat him bloody."

Slowly my legs parted, my entire body shaking with some unnamable need. I no longer thought of Parisi or the men waiting in the alcoves. Even Franco with his harsh words was little more than a shadow in the room. My reality had collapsed down to me and Benito, the strong, bullish man who had subjugated himself for the chance to touch me. Up came his big hands, wrapping around the underside of my knees and resolutely dragging me toward him until my ass perched at the edge of the seat.

I couldn't breathe. My vision grayed at the edges. I felt like my whole body was whipping up and down in the effort to drag in the tiniest volume of air. Franco slid in behind me once more. I heard the rip of one of the foil packets and the rub of him putting the condom on. Then his hands secured my shoulders and he brought me to lean against his broad chest as Benito took his first lick, the metal balls that capped his nose ring moving up and down my clit with his tongue.

Gods! My spine curved sharply, my hips lifted. Benito's hands pressed hard against the top of my thighs to keep me in place.

"Bring the jars," Franco said. Shadows on two legs peeled away from the dark recesses of the alcoves. The two men that stepped into the circle of light, neither of them Parisi, were older than the brothers but solidly in their masculine prime. Each carried a jar with a wide open top and a linen cloth. They dipped their fingers in then started to stroke at my flesh as Benito groaned with his mouth against my pussy.

My hips surged again. Benito pushed me back down but his mouth didn't instantly fasten to my clit as it had before.

"Prepare her," he said to the man on my right as Benito sheathed himself with one of the condoms.

Slick fingers found the entrance to my cunt and pushed in, lubricating me with thick twists that left me thrashing and moaning.

"Lift that ass again and a finger's going in," Franco warned as my hips started to surge.

I realized his meaning and the danger a second too late. Benito's massive hands cupped my raised bottom. His strong arms supported my weight as the man on my left pushed a finger thickly coated with the jar's contents into my anus.

My first climax slammed hard and fast through me. I gasped for air, every muscle on my body seizing so tight I could hear the vibrations around me. Franco lifted his arm to dip into the man's jar, his flesh brushing mine with a kiss of wildfire. My bottom lifted again. I felt his hand between us, coating his cock, pushing it forward.

I moaned, incapable of speech, unable to warn him I wasn't ready, had never experimented with the hole he intended to fill. My legs trembled violently with the effort to keep my ass up until the words came back. His fingers probed, stretched, penetrated deeper than the man with the jar had dared. I collapsed slowly onto him, around him, my second orgasm wrenching me and wringing a scream from my throat.

"Shh,
bella
," Benito said, his hands atop my mound and around my hips to keep me from injuring myself with the jerking spasms.

When I quieted, he gently suctioned his mouth against my clit once more. Lazy, firm circles, tripled by the metal balls, kept going nowhere against my flesh over and over. The men with the jars placed them on the ground and knelt beside the bench.

They rubbed my body, their caresses mingling with gentle kneading. Fingers dipped down to replace Benito's mouth. That's when the bull began to prepare my cunt for the next intrusion. His fingers entered me, one then two then their twins on the opposing hand so that I had four fingers inside my pussy and Franco filling the greedy hole below.

A mouth sucked at each breast in between rough pinches. I felt the last of my sanity slip away. I didn't sense the two men fade into the background, only knew they were gone as Benito settled his muscular ass on the end of the bench, pushed my thighs to their maximum stretch and patiently began the process of feeding his monster cock into my pussy.

"Breathe,
bella,
" Franco panted into my ear. He had one hand knotted in my hair and the other digging into my breast in an attempt to control the wild abandon that infected every joint and ligament within my body.

Pushing up, Franco sandwiched me between his and Benito's solid frames. I was impaled atop both men, my weight tugging at me, heightening my pleasure and ensuring pussy and ass swallowed them all the way down to the base of their cocks.

I couldn't assist them, couldn't contemplate a single voluntary movement. They didn't need my help to grind away the last of me that remained. They reached for each other, hands gripping arms, fingers gouging shoulders, and then they started a subtle rocking motion. Up and down I slid on them, grinding against one and then the other. I cried, jerked, came, sobbed against Benito's shoulders. Delirious, unconnected words left my mouth and then I went completely limp.

My collapse triggered the brothers' release, their helpless moans and shudders bouncing off me on the outside while my tender, swollen flesh felt the thick jerks and jets of their cum spurting inside.

Slow and gentle, the two brothers pulled out. Benito swapped his condom for a new one then switched places with Franco. When I offered no more resistance that a ragdoll, they flipped me over. Benito got on his back on the bench and Franco draped me on top of his brother, my soft breasts pressing into his hard chest.

Franco took a minute to clean himself, and then he massaged along my shoulders and spine as he spoke in Italian to one of the assistants. A squeak escaped me a few seconds later as the unnamed man knelt at the end of the bench and pressed his tongue against the rim of my anus.

Witnessing my shock, Benito teased me in English. "No fig for Arturo. No fig for Franco."

His hand snaked between us to stroke lightly at my clit.

"In this room, only Benito's fig."

My pussy contracted at the tender glaze that heated the big man's eyes. The dismay I had felt at a warm, wet tongue wriggling at the perimeter of my ass vanished. I slid a little higher, giving Benito room to position his thick cock.

In he slid, stretching me once more. My eyes rolled back in my head. My mouth formed a wide O of need. The man behind me latched onto my hips as Franco moved in front of me and cupped his hands under my arms.

Franco hadn't put on a fresh condom after cleaning himself and I understood why. The head of his cock pointed straight at my greedy mouth. I began to lick along the tip and shaft as Franco and the man at my ass played tug of war with my body.