Brie’s Russian Treat (Submissive in Love, #5) (10 page)

“Yes.”

The Hitachi turned back on as he repositioned himself between her legs and pressed it against her swollen pussy.

“No matter how painful it becomes, know that the clovers will not break the skin.”

Brie nodded in understanding, taking in deep breaths of Sir as she gave over her will to Rytsar, letting him have his way. He teased her cruelly with the Hitachi, bringing her to the edge only to whisk it away, making her crave the release he refused to give.

She knew he was waiting for her. Waiting until she couldn’t take any more and begged for it.

“You are a fighter,” he praised, “but I will not lose.” He switched the wand to the higher setting.

“Mercy,” Brie cried when it vibrated against her clit.

Rytsar chuckled under his breath, showing her none.

He’s right
, Brie thought as her body begged for release,
this is the ultimate powerplay.

To experience release she had to submit to his pain, something she would never willingly do under normal circumstances. With her thighs quivering uncontrollably and her body covered in a sheen of sweat, she finally gave in to Rytsar’s will.

“Please.”

He began pulling on the clovers as he repositioned the Hitachi. The clamps squeezed like devilish vise grips as the raging fire below caught hold.

“Let it happen…”

The intense pain overwhelmed her and a terrified scream escaped her lips when he gave the clovers a final tug, ripping them from her body. In that moment of excruciating pain, she orgasmed with such delicious violence that everything went black.

She heard Rytsar’s voice calling her name, but she wasn’t ready to come back yet, still flying on a cloud of ecstasy. He continued to call to her, lightly slapping her face.

With determination, she opened her eyes and smiled at him.

Rytsar shook his head as he wrapped his arms around her and nibbled on her shoulder. “Your Master mentioned your propensity to fly, but I didn’t realize you soar as deeply as some of my masochists,
radost moya
.”

Brie slowly floated down from her sub high, listening to Rytsar whisper to her in Russian. It was a beautiful way to come back to Earth.

She turned to face him and gazed into his pale blue eyes. Rytsar seemed unguarded in that moment. Ever since she’d first met the Russian he’d been daunting and mysterious, but now she saw a glimpse of the man behind the tough exterior.

He wiped away a remaining tear from her cheek. “You were brave.”

She glanced away, his praise unsettling—but in a good way.

Rytsar lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I’m impressed.”

The heat rose to her cheeks as she admitted quietly, “That pleases me.”

He gazed into her eyes, saying nothing. It was an exchange unlike any she’d had with the Dom, intimate and real.

“I have known you from the beginning, when you were new and uncertain.”

She giggled. “Yes, you have.”

“You’ve grown since. Yet even then I understood my comrade’s fascination with you.”

“I’ll never forget how you made my fantasy come true with such thoughtful accuracy, like a craftsman.” Brie laughed to herself. “Of course, I found out you were a sadist months later. I felt so sorry for you.”

“No need. Taking you so early in your training was a privilege.”

“I was shocked when Sir told me that you were friends and that he’d specifically invited you to bid on me.”

“We are brothers, he and I. The only person I trust.”

Brie smiled sadly. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Rytsar stroked her cheek with his rough hand. “I do not trust easily, and yet I expect it from my subs.”

“You are demanding, but you earn that trust.”

“Trust begets trust. Therefore I will allow you one question.”

In the Woods

“I
can ask you anything?”

He nodded solemnly.

Brie looked into his intense eyes and asked, “What were you like as a child?”

Rytsar laughed. “I tell you to ask me anything and
that
is what you choose?”

She shrugged. “I always wonder that when I meet people.”

Rytsar rubbed his bald head, a grin on his face. “I was precocious. My mother had her hands full.”

“What was she like?”

“Only one question.”

“But your mother is a part of your childhood,” she protested.

He gave her an exasperated look, but his eyes shone with tenderness when he told her, “I would describe my mother as beautiful. Stunning in looks, but it was her passionate soul—and endless patience—that I remember most.”

“Did you take more after her or your father?”

“So many questions,” he growled.

“But still related to your childhood,” she reminded him.

Rytsar frowned but answered, “The Durov line runs deep, obliterating any genes that cross with it.”

“So you look like your father?”

“A spitting image of my father.”

“He must be a handsome man then.”

Rytsar’s eyes narrowed. “Are you flirting with me?”

Brie shook her head. “No, just stating the obvious.”

“Hah!” he exclaimed, but she saw the flash of a smile. “My father was well known for his looks, but it was my mother who stole people’s hearts.”

“Then you
do
take after your mother.”

“You are playing a dangerous game,
radost moya,
” he laughed, then looked away, sighing. “I wish I could show you a picture of her, but the fire destroyed all my memories.”

“Then describe her to me,” Brie encouraged. “Help me see her in my mind.”

“Ah, well she had extraordinary pale gray eyes and playful arched eyebrows that could charm the bitterest man. Her high cheekbones complemented those soulful eyes, but it was her smile that bewitched and conquered all who met her.”

“She sounds stunning.”

“Her looks only hinted at the exquisite soul underneath.” He looked at Brie with a serious expression. “But nothing could withstand my father’s will, not even her. You see, a woman does not choose a Durov, she is chosen. Needless to say, when my father met my mother, her fate was sealed.”

Rytsar abruptly changed the direction of the conversation. “If it weren’t for her patience and understanding, I would be a different man,
radost moya
. Never underestimate the power you will have as a mother.”

Brie blushed, embarrassed he was bringing up the prospect of her motherhood again.

“I have brothers,” he told her. “Did you know that?”

Brie shook her head.

“
Da
, four of them.”

“Wow, I can’t even imagine.” Brie was enchanted by the thought of there being four more Rytsars in the world, but wondered why she had never met them. Not wanting to lose this rare peek into his life, she said, “Your mother must have been an exceptional woman to raise so many strong-willed men.”

“You will be too,” Rytsar stated confidently. “I look forward to seeing you with your offspring.”

“So where is she now?” Brie asked, secretly hoping he would offer to take to her to meet his mother.

“What has that got to do with my childhood? We’re done.”

“But—” She wasn’t ready to give up her aftercare so soon and changed tactics, laying her head on his muscular chest. “Thank you for guiding me through the scene, Rytsar.”

A low rumble of amusement emanated from deep within his chest. “Now that you’ve made it to the other side, what are your thoughts?”

“It was an incredible rush, but equally frightening.”

“Although I find your tears as charming as your smile,” he murmured gently, “with a little patience I could condition your body so that you would come to anticipate my pleasure, not fear it.”

Brie lifted her head from his chest and grinned. “Still determined to convert the non-masochist?”

He shrugged. “You are an itch I can’t scratch.”

She was shocked to hear those words coming from Rytsar. They were the exact ones Ms. Clark had used with her.

“What?” he asked when she stiffened.

Sir had warned Brie never to bring up Ms. Clark to Rytsar, so she quickly answered, “It’s nothing.”

Rytsar grasped the back of her neck and squeezed, lifting her head and demanding, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not allowed to talk about it,” she explained.

“There are no secrets when it involves me,” he said, becoming noticeably angry.

“Trust me. It’s not worth repeating, Rytsar.”

His grip became tighter, bruising her skin. “No games,
radost moya
.”

“Ms. Clark said the same thing once.”

His eyes became cold. “About me?”

“No, she said it to me during my documentary interview.”

Rytsar growled. “Does your Master know what she said?”

“Of course.”

“And he still lets you interact with her?”

“Yes, I saw her in Denver during my last visit…”

She was afraid to say more and stopped, for fear of upsetting him, but he wouldn’t have it and demanded, “Go on.”

“She’s working at Master Anderson’s Training Center now.”

He snarled, “I must talk to him.”

“Rytsar, Sir believes she’s changed, and I would agree after seeing her this last time.”

His nostrils flared. “She is not to be trusted, especially with you. Just because he trained her, Thane feels responsible, and that blinds him to the truth.”

Brie wasn’t sure if Rytsar was being overly protective or if he perceived something Sir could not.

Rytsar asked in a deadly serious tone, “Do you trust her?”

She frowned. “No, not completely.” But then she quickly added, “Still, I trust Sir’s evaluation of her.”

“I appreciate your loyalty, but I will be speaking to your Master when I see him today.”

“What do you mean
today
?”

“I called him this morning to collect you.”

Brie was taken aback. “Why?” She was heartbroken to hear that her Russian trip was ending so soon.

“You cannot be associated with what happened last night. No one knows you are here other than my men and those at the club. They will not talk. However, I cannot risk your further exposure.”

“So you really killed that man?” Brie asked in the barest of whispers.

“I killed no man, only a maggot.”

Brie shuddered, remembering the cowering girl at the club. “I can’t believe a person could treat another human being that way.”

“The soulless don’t have a place on this Earth.”

She recalled the look the girl had given him as she was carried out of the club, and asked, “What did you say to the girl?”

He pulled Brie against him, smashing her face against his broad chest. “I told her that she was never a puppet, only a survivor.”

Tears came to Brie’s eyes. After the horrors the young woman had experienced, she could only imagine how empowering those words must have been to her. “You’re a good man, Rytsar.”

“Enough,” he growled, squeezing her tighter.