Brie Masters Love in Submission: Submissive in Love (49 page)

“Actually, I had planned to stay at your home. Because of what’s happened, I suppose I can send Brie ahead until my business in Moscow is completed.”

“Excellent! I will act as her host while you stay at my apartment,
moy droog
.”

Sir eyed him suspiciously. “Before I let you have her, I’ll have to write down a list of what you can and cannot do in my absence.”

“Only if you feel a list is necessary.”

“Imperative.”

“Don’t you trust your longtime comrade?”

“After this last stunt? No.”

“That hurts,” Rytsar said, placing his hand over his heart. “But I will make it up to you both,” he promised solemnly. “Come—we will stuff our bellies, drink a bottle or two of vodka, and go over this list together.”

Pink or Blue

R
ytsar took them to the modern side of Moscow, famous for its towering skyscrapers and twisted glass buildings that looked more like art than offices.

“Moscow is such a cool city,” Brie exclaimed, looking up at the tall structures, in awe of their varied architectural design.

“It is a rare gem among the great cities,” Rytsar stated proudly. “Moscow has a long and rich history.”

He took them to a newly built apartment building made of glass and steel. It was a marvel of modern conveniences and artful design—the exact opposite of the historic mansion he’d grown up in.

“I can better understand why you have multiple dwellings, Rytsar,” Brie said, adding, “it gives you the chance to enjoy the old and the new.”

“
Da
, I truly had the best of both worlds,” he agreed sadly.

Brie realized that she’d just stuck her foot in her mouth by mentioning the mansion, but before she could apologize, he changed the subject. “To go along with that theme, there is a new restaurant that opened recently. Let me tantalize you with the traditional foods of my forefathers tweaked with a modern flair.”

She eagerly agreed, as she took a moment to survey his spacious apartment. The windows overlooking the scenic downtown reminded Brie of Sir’s home, but instead of art covering the walls, Rytsar’s place was decorated with BDSM tools, many of which looked cruel and menacing. As she glanced at the various instruments, she couldn’t help wondering if they were strictly for ornamentation or actual use.

Rytsar kept his word and they did end up stuffing themselves, but Brie never got to partake of the vodka. A full stomach, after a long plane trip and an emotional scare, had her drifting off before the night had even started.

Brie was bereft when she woke up in an empty bed early the next morning.

“Sir?”

When she got no answer, Brie slipped out from under the covers, and was flustered to discover she was completely naked. She looked around the room, grateful when she spied her clothes folded on a chair. She trusted that Sir had been the one to undress her but wondered,
Why didn’t he join me in bed?

After donning her clothes, she peeked her head out of the room. There sat Sir and Rytsar, chatting away with glasses of vodka in their hands.

“Drinking in the morning, Sir?” she chided playfully when she emerged from the bedroom.

He looked at his watch and winked at her. “Nope, we never stopped.”

Rytsar nudged Sir and asked, “Want to toast to the morning?”

“Why not?”

Rytsar poured two large glasses.

Brie stared at them in shock, surprised that they had nearly finished off two bottles of vodka. “What did you two do all night, besides drink?”

“There was much discussion, my little sub.” Sir took the glass Rytsar handed him, and picked up a pickle before toasting. “To my bastard of a friend, who doesn’t deserve to lick my boots.”

Rytsar’s low laughter filled the apartment. “To my grouchy comrade, who needs to find where he misplaced his humor.”

The two clinked glasses and chugged. It was perversely interesting to watch, considering how much vodka was already flowing in their veins. They slammed the glasses down and consumed their pickles with gusto.

Sir turned to Brie afterwards. “I’m glad to see you’re awake. I’ve missed your presence.”

Brie knelt on the floor beside him and laid her head on his lap, purring when he began stroking her hair. “I’m sorry I missed your conversations, Sir.”

“It was for the best,
radost moya
,” Rytsar assured her.

Brie didn’t feel that way at all. She wanted to learn everything there was to know about these two, and knew vodka made them unusually open and talkative. “So…what
did
you discuss, Master?” she asked provocatively, rubbing her hand against his inner thigh.

He looked down at her with a mischievous smile that hinted at secrets unknown. “We talked about our college days and a certain list that needed to be made…”

“Oh, you tease me so.”

“I like to keep you on your toes, téa. It keeps you strong and focused.”

She turned to Rytsar. “He definitely keeps me on my toes. Did he tell you about his latest challenge at the commune?”

Rytsar nodded. “I could imagine your pussy quivering for a stranger as he lubed up his cock for you.”

“It wasn’t just my pussy that was quivering.” Brie laid her head back on Sir’s thigh. “But my Master never steers me in the wrong direction. I trust him completely.”

“It is equally met, little sub,” Sir replied, lifting her chin. “You force me to face emotions I’m unwilling to confront.”

“We’re the perfect team,” she said, kissing his hand.

“I would find you two sickening but for the fact you are my good friends.”

Sir chuckled. “I would find us nauseating as well. However…” He paused, looking down at Brie. “I can’t get enough of her.”

Rytsar held up the nearly empty bottle of vodka, but Sir declined. The Russian poured the last of it into his glass and downed it. He snapped his fingers, and from seemingly out of nowhere, his bodyguard, Titov, produced two packages.

“As you know, I have been waiting for this day with impatience ever since you told me you had news to share,
moy droog.
” He added with a glint in his eye, “It’s taken you long enough.”

Rytsar nodded to the guard, and the man handed Brie one of the gifts. She tore at it excitedly, wondering what pre-wedding surprise he had picked out for them. She was a tad shocked when she pulled out a tiny dress of excessive pink lace.

Brie couldn’t help but laugh, and shook her head at him.

“No?” he asked in surprise. “Not a problem.” The bodyguard handed her the second gift and Brie dutifully opened it.

It was a miniature tux of blue. Brie blushed, shaking her head again.

Rytsar looked utterly devastated and turned to Sir. “No
malyshka
?”

Sir stood up and put his hand on the Russian’s shoulder. “No, my friend. I was simply going to ask you to be the best man at my wedding.”

Rytsar gave Sir a look of disgust, then turned to Brie with a charming grin. “
Radost moya
, you would have a round belly and we would be anticipating our first
dotchka
if you were mine.”

Brie giggled. “Rytsar, I’m not ready to have babies yet!” She held up both baby outfits and shrugged. “Seriously, I’m only twenty-three and I have a film career to think about.”

Rytsar motioned her to him. Brie stood up and walked over, leaning close when he said in a secretive tone, “The sooner you start your little family, the sooner they fly the nest.” He added for emphasis, “Your Master isn’t getting any younger.”

“I heard that.”

“I only speak the truth,
moy droog
. If your little sub is to stand any chance of being a mother, you need to start making your fucking count.”

Brie burst out in a giggle.

“I think I will withdraw your best man status,” Sir snarled.

“If you are a man who cannot handle the truth, then yes, by all means withdraw the honor,” Rytsar challenged with a wicked grin.

“If you are so anxious for children, why not impregnate one of your subs? I’m sure there are several who would be happy to carry your child.”

Rytsar shook his head. “I’m far too young for such commitment, but not to be a
dyadya.”

“You’re a year older than me, my friend.”

“Ah, but you have found ‘the one’ and I have not. A child should be conceived in love, no?”

Sir grunted in agreement.

Rytsar held his massive arms out as if he were cradling a baby. “To hold and spoil a tiny version of
radost moya
…” he said wistfully.

“And if it’s a boy?” Sir questioned.

“It won’t be.”

“All this talk of babies has me craving a pickle,” Brie said, grabbing one off the tray and munching on it.

“The day you refuse my vodka is the day I’ll know you are pregnant.” Rytsar snapped his fingers and Titov fetched a new bottle. “Will you have a drink with me?”

Brie looked at Sir.

“Do as you wish.”

Not wanting to be left out, Brie nodded. “Please, Rytsar.”

“Although that is not the answer I wanted, I am pleased to fill your glass. Zyr has become my vodka of choice. Let me know what you think.”

She downed the fiery alcohol at the same time as Rytsar, surprised that it went down so smoothly, far more easily than she’d been expecting, with only a hint of bitterness afterwards.

“What do you think,
radost moya
?”

She smiled. “It’s surprisingly smooth!”

He held his pickle to his lips, so she did the same and they both bit down on the salty treats. Brie giggled as she chewed on the pickle while looking into Rytsar’s eyes.

“Do you think you can handle Durov for a couple of days?” Sir asked her.

Brie turned to her Master and replied solemnly, “If he has agreed to the terms you have set, then yes. I trust your judgment completely.” She embraced the warmth the vodka caused and added proudly, “I would do anything you asked, Sir.”

“Count yourself lucky I do not have a wicked heart, because that statement could get you in a lot of trouble, Miss Bennett,” Sir teased.

Brie liked the easy banter that alcohol seemed to bring about.

“I will make the best of the limited access I’ve been afforded,” Rytsar murmured resentfully.

“A tight rein is the only way I would allow you control over her. I know you, Durov.”

“
Da
. At least you have agreed to the club.”

Brie’s interest was piqued. “Club?”

Rytsar’s grin was roguishly intimidating. “A favorite underground BDSM club of mine, with a decidedly sadistic slant.”

Brie turned to Sir in surprise, her mouth agape.

“You did just say you would do anything I asked.”

She trembled as she nodded.

“My requirements of Durov are very specific.”

“Too restrictive,” Rytsar complained.

Sir assured Brie, “You will not be compromised, but you will be tested.” He handed Rytsar all the items off the coffee table one by one, then commanded her in a sensuous tone, “Undress and lie on the table for me, téa.”

Brie smiled as she slowly removed her clothes for her Master, wanting to entice them both with her disrobing without making it a blatant striptease, which Sir had not asked for.

He helped her onto the table and ran his hand over her body. “I think we bite her.”