by Red Phoenix
“Da,” he choked out, raising his glass to Sir.
Brie was deeply touched seeing Rytsar’s tears. Holding up her own glass, she said, “To Mamulya’s son.”
Rytsar nodded at her, throwing back the vodka and growling loudly afterward. “I will not let another birthday go by without celebrating her memory.”
After drinking the shot, Sir walked over to the table and knelt down, pulling something out from underneath it.
Heading back to Rytsar with a box in his hands, he said, “I had this specially made and shipped to Maxim for this day.”
Rytsar chuckled as he took the box from him. “I hope there is a jar of pickles and an extra bottle of vodka in here.”
Sir smirked in answer.
When Rytsar opened the lid and looked inside, Brie saw the color drain from his face.
“How did you know, moy droog?”
“Titov told me.”
Brie was curious about what could have had such a profound effect on Rytsar and took a peek in the box.
Inside was a white cake with golden brown crumbles decorating the sides.
Rytsar lifted it from the box with an air of reverence. Turning it in his hands, he admired the simple white layer cake.
“Mamulya…” His voice choked up, so he cleared his throat and started again, “Mamulya took hours making this cake the night before my birthday every year. Ten layers of perfection contained in one glorious dessert.”
Taking a swipe of the white cream, he tasted it and nodded his approval. “You have done well, brother.”
Sir inclined his head. “This woman was recommended to me for making the best Medovik.”
“What is it made of?” Brie asked, captivated by the cake because of the obvious meaning it held for him.
“This is honey cake, Brianna,” Rytsar stated with pride. “And you have never tasted anything like it.”
Sir picked a knife up from the table and asked, “Would you like me to cut you the first piece?”
“Nyet. You can always tell a good Medovik by its layers.” Rytsar set the cake on top of the box and took the knife from him. Sliding the blade into it, he cut the perfect piece.
When he pulled it away from the body of the cake, Brie let out a surprised gasp. “It’s beautiful!”
The cake was made of ten thin, even layers of cake sandwiched between white cream.
“Wait until you taste it,” Rytsar told her excitedly, taking a fork and breaking off a small piece.
Brie was touched that he wanted her to have the first bite, but told him, “No, you eat it. This is your special day.”
He nodded, holding up the fork to Sir in thanks before taking the bite. He chewed the piece slowly as a smile spread across his face. “It could almost pass for my mother’s.”
Rytsar broke off another forkful to give Brie a taste.
She eagerly took the bite he offered. It was light in texture with a cloud-like honey frosting between each layer of soft, spongy cake. The cake itself tasted like a mixture of graham cracker and honey, and the combination melted in her mouth.
“You’re right. I’ve never had anything like it,” she exclaimed in wonder. “Where has Medovik been all of my life?”
Rytsar cut an extra huge piece and handed it to Sir.
When Sir shook his head, protesting the size of it, Rytsar told him, “I want you to have a taste of my youth, moy droog.”
As he took a bite of the cake, Sir closed his eyes, giving his full attention to the texture and flavor. When he opened them again, he told Rytsar, “It’s an excellent example of technique and simplicity.”
“But, did you like it?” Rytsar prodded.
Sir broke a large bite with his fork and stuffed it in his mouth in answer, causing Brie to laugh.
Rytsar nodded his approval. “That is the only way to eat Medovik.” Taking an even larger bite, Rytsar opened his mouth wide and shoved it in, his cheeks puffing out as he chewed.
Brie felt as if she was catching a glimpse of the boy he had been with his mother, and it tickled her heart.
“Tell me, moy droog. Who is the famous baker responsible for this perfection? I must thank them personally the next time I’m in Russia.”
“Her name is Nadia. I was never given a last name, but I was told she knew your mother personally.”
Rytsar was just about to take another bite but put down his fork. “Did you say Nadia?”
“Yes.”
Rytsar took the bite, chewing thoughtfully, and gave Brie another forkful before asking Sir, “Do you know if this baker is an older woman?”
“As a matter of fact, I was told that she had given up baking because she was getting too frail to work in the kitchen. However, she insisted on baking this herself when she heard the cake was for you.”
Rytsar murmured to himself, “It has to be her. Only someone who worked with my mother would be able to create something so close to the original.”
“Who is she?” Brie asked, now curious.
“Nadia was on our staff when I was growing up.” He shook his head. “I haven’t seen her in years, but I owe her for her unfailing service and loyalty to me.”
“Apparently, she feels the same way about you,” Sir replied. “She refused to take payment, insisting that it was her joy to make this cake for you.”
Rytsar groaned, looking up at the stars. “Oh, Nadia. How cruel life has been to us, and yet your heart has never changed.”
Looking at Sir, he said, “I want to thank you for reconnecting the two of us through this gift.”
Brie was curious about the history he had with Nadia. She found it interesting that Rytsar had never shared anything about her before. Brie suspected there were many things in his past that still remained hidden—but she hoped someday to know them all.
Rytsar’s somber expression disappeared when he broke off another bite and offered it to Brie. “After we finish this piece of cake, you will lay down and spread your legs open so your Master and I can partake of this body we love so much.”
Brie felt the butterflies start again as the flames from the torches danced all around her.
“That is how my birthday will end.”
His Belt
When it came time for them to part ways after leaving the Isle behind, Brie held onto Rytsar for several moments.
He was heading off to Russia to visit his brother Vlad, and the little boy Rytsar had once thought was his son.
Although Rytsar was still skeptical that he could work things out with his four brothers, he felt that for his mother’s sake, he should at least make an attempt.
“But, I will never let my guard down around them,” he said. “I know my father brainwashed my brothers. I can never truly trust them.”
Brie looked at him in concern. “If you are unable to let your guard down, how can there ever be any real reconciliation between you?”
Rytsar’s eyes narrowed. “You do not know everything they put me through—nobody knows!” he growled angrily.
Sir put his hand on Rytsar’s shoulder reassuringly. “Be true to yourself, brother. Your mother would ask no more of you.”
The anger rolling off Rytsar slowly dissipated as he stared hard at Sir. Finally, he nodded. “You’re right, comrade.” Putting an arm around him, Rytsar pulled him in for a hug. “Your wise words always astound me.”
Sir raised an eyebrow as he pulled away, making Brie stifle a laugh. Rytsar knew perfectly well how Sir felt about being called wise.
“I choose to ignore that last remark.”
“As a wise man would,” Rytsar replied.
A giggle escaped Brie’s lips and she immediately covered her mouth.
Sir slowly turned his gaze on her. “Is there something you wish to say, babygirl?”
Brie shook her head, although another giggle escaped even though she tried desperately to keep it back.
He turned back to Rytsar, shaking his head. “You are a bad influence.”
Rytsar smirked. “Th
at may be the nicest thing you have ever said to me, peasant.”
Sir stated with an amused look on his face, “It’s a good thing you’re getting on that plane. Otherwise, Brie would be forced to witness your punishment—and I would not be merciful.”
“Would you like that, radost moya?” Rytsar asked her with a wink. “Or, perhaps you would enjoy it the other way around. Have you ever wondered how your Master would handle a session with my ’nines?”
Brie’s eyes widened. “I…”
“Enough,” Sir commanded him.
Rytsar grinned. “I wonder, moy droog. Is it possible you still think about that session we had in college?”
Brie’s gaze darted to Sir. Was Rytsar just teasing him or had Sir once submitted to his cat-o’-nines?
Sir raised an eyebrow. “Know that every word you speak has a consequence, old friend.”
Rytsar laughed. “Are you threatening me, brother?”
His smile was deceptively calm. “It is not a threat. I will pay you back.”
Brie could not get the image of Sir submitting to the lashes of Rytsar’s ’nines out of her head. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to have been there! Just imagining the two men when they were younger was a thrill. But, to witness the dynamic between Sir and Rytsar as he submitted to those intense lashes…
Brie unconsciously shivered, which did not go unnoticed by Sir.
“Do you see what you’ve started?” he grumbled to Rytsar.
The Russian only smiled. “It’s obvious the idea excites her.”
“Once was enough, old friend.”
Brie inhaled sharply.
O.M.G. He really did scene with Rytsar!
She knew that Sir, as a Dominant, considered it important to understand what his subs experienced. She could imagine him agreeing to submit to Rytsar’s cat-o’-nines.
Thinking back to her first experience with Rytsar’s nines Brie had to laugh, remembering she’d called out her safeword after only four lashes.
She wondered how Sir had reacted to the challenging instrument.
Brie shivered again. After observing the cat-o’-nines in Rytsar’s dungeon, Brie had expressed curiosity about them. She realized now that, instead of sharing his own experience—which may have dissuaded her—he’d kept it to himself so she could walk into the scene with an open mind.
Even though she hadn’t lasted long, she was grateful that Sir had encouraged her to experience them without any preconceived notions. It had allowed Brie to be fully open and honest with herself when Rytsar’s lashes rained down on her back.
The Russian grinned at her. “I know what you are thinking about, radost moya, and I approve.”
Sir smacked him hard on the back. “A shame you must leave and take that lonely flight back to Russia while I play with my sub on our way to Portoferraio.”
“You are a cruel one, peasant.”
Rytsar gave Brie a wink before he turned to board his private jet.
“I’m worried for him,” Brie said as she watched him walk away.
“Durov is more than capable of handling his brothers.”
“I just want them to do right by him, Sir.”
“I do, too, babygirl.”
Sir wrapped an arm around her and they both waved at Rytsar when he turned briefly before boarding the jet.
Unlike Rytsar, Brie and Sir boarded a regular overseas jet, but Sir had reserved enclosed seating in first class so that they could fly undisturbed during the twenty-one-hour trip.
Brie let out a surprised gasp as he opened the door so they could walk to their seats. Inside it looked just like a miniature hotel room. Not only were there two seats that reclined into beds in the suite, but it also had a desk with a separate chair and a large TV, as well as a miniature wet bar that included refreshments. They had everything they could want to entertain themselves during the long flight.
“This is amazing, Sir!”
“Only the best for my sub, wife, and the mother of my child.”
Brie’s heart melted at his declaration.
“Now…” he said, sliding the door shut behind him.
Sir smiled as he slowly unbuckled his belt and pulled it through the belt loops. “I think a little belt action is in order, don’t you?”
Brie’s eyes widened. There had been a time when she’d been afraid of belts, but not anymore. “How do you want me, Master?”
“Right now, I want you to strip down to your undergarments and ready yourself for takeoff.”
Brie quickly slipped out of her dress and shoes, placing them in a small closet next to the large TV. She then sat in the luxuriously soft leather seat and buckled up.
Sir looked at her approvingly and commanded, “Open.”
Brie parted her lips and bit down on the leather belt he placed in her mouth.
He knelt beside her, tracing his fingers down her neck, over her full breasts, and to her stomach, giving her goosebumps.
Looking into her eyes, he spread her legs apart before sliding his hand under her panties to caress her clit. Her body immediately responded to his touch and she could already feel herself getting wet.
“Good girl…” he murmured, concentrating his attention on her pussy while she heard the other passengers getting on board. It felt so wickedly naughty to play out this scene with him while the others were so close and unaware, and that turned her on even more.
Brie opened her legs wider for him as she watched him play with her, the tangy taste of the leather of his belt adding to the sensual experience.
Her breath caught when she felt his finger penetrate her, and she looked up to meet his gaze.
Sir’s stare was so intense that chills coursed down her spine.
He wanted her—he wanted her bad.
Moaning softly with his belt in her mouth, she silently pleaded with her eyes for him to take her.
His low growl made her pussy contract lightly around his finger. He immediately pulled it out and licked it. “I do enjoy the taste of warm Brie.”
She smiled, still holding the belt in her mouth, gratified by his words.
Instead of claiming her, he sat down in the seat beside her and fastened his seatbelt. Never taking his eyes off her, Sir reached over and played with her body to distract himself during takeoff.
Once they were safely in the air, he unfastened his seatbelt and then hers. With a sultry smile, he took the belt from her lips. Folding it in half, he told her, “Take off your panties and present your ass to me.”
Brie quickly obeyed, leaning against the chair as she bent over. She looked back at him expectantly.
Sir ran his hand over her smooth skin. “I will never get tired of looking at the perfection that is your body, téa.”
“I relish your gaze, Master,” she purred.
When Sir stopped caressing her ass, she turned her head forward and closed her eyes, waiting for that first strike of the belt.
The buckle on the belt rattled as he took his position. “Are you ready, téa?”
She wiggled her butt as she answered, “Yes, Master.”
The lash was stronger than she expected, and she let out a squeal.
“Shh…” he whispered, caressing the area of contact.
Brie nodded and her heart began to race while she waited for the next slap of the belt.
“Two…” he counted out loud just before striking her other butt cheek with the same intensity. This time Brie was ready for it and let out no sound when she felt the sting of it.
Again, Sir soothed the burning area with his gentle caress, but then he swiped his finger over her clit. “You are extremely wet, my little sub.”
She glanced back at him. “I love my Master’s belt.”
His eyes shone with masculine desire as he raised the belt again. Brie bit her bottom lip, enjoying the anticipation as he made her wait for the next slap of the leather.
This time, the belt was softer, landing on both cheeks. She stifled her cries of pleasure as he delivered meas
ured lashes of his belt. Sir stopped at random points to caress her body and tease her pussy to utter distraction.
When she was on the verge of cresting the edge, she begged him. “Please take me, Master.”
Sir laid down his belt, saying with a glint in his eye, “I’m not coming and neither are you.”
For the first time since this trip started, she was being denied release.
“May I ask why, Master?” she whimpered as he continued to play with her clit.
“You may.” Sir wasn’t quick to explain, taking far too much pleasure in teasing her pussy.
It forced her to focus and control her need for release.
“There is a certain place on Elba I want to show you.”
She let out a gasp and a whimper when his finger started flicking her clit, bringing her closer and closer to orgasm.
“As you know,” he continued. “I have abstained from coming myself and wish you to do the same.” He stopped his teasing and looked into her eyes. “Can you guess why?”
She was certain she knew the answer and felt butterflies when she responded, “Because we’re trying for another baby.”
“Correct.” Sir pulled her to him, holding her tight in his arms. “I want to create life with you, Brie.”
Her whole body tingled in response.
Sir kissed her forehead before he broke their embrace to settle between her thighs and laid a gentle kiss on her clit.
It pulsed with need for him.
“Now that you’ve stopped breastfeeding Hope, I think it’s time we concentrate on adding to our little family.”
“Yes…” she moaned as he nibbled the inside of her thigh.
“Do you think you can handle the wait?” he asked with a seductive grin.
Brie shook her head, but then broke out in a smile. “I will for you.”
She squirmed in delight when Sir started rubbing her clit for the pure torture of it.
Looking down, she noticed how hard his cock was. Knowing that Sir was denying himself because he wanted to have another child with her was such a turn-on. “So, no release for either of us until you say otherwise?”
His eyes flashed with desire. “Yes. Until then, I reserve the right to tease you mercilessly as your Master.” With that, he buried his face in her pussy, teasing her clit with his skilled tongue.
