by Red Phoenix
“How can you make such a claim?” Marquis Gray demanded.
Rytsar answered, pointing to his left eye, “The boy saved my life and the life of my friends the day he made that sacrifice. It is a debt I can never repay. I will not let him fail.”
Marquis glanced at Sir. “And you support this idea?”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“What about you, Brianna?” Marquis asked her.
She could not hide her growing fear from him. “If something drastic isn’t done soon, the baby will have no father.”
Marquis growled under his breath. “I do not care for the risk this involves.”
Celestia gently put her arm on Marquis Gray’s shoulder. “We are losing him.”
He nodded curtly.
Marquis turned to Rytsar. “If Todd insists on joining you, I will not stop him.” He let out a long sigh. “I am reminded of something I learned long ago. There are times when to save a life, you must first lose it.”
Celestia looked at him sadly, nodding her agreement.
Rytsar smiled confidently. “I’m glad you see it my way.”
Marquis Gray’s eyes narrowed. “But if anything happens to him…”
Rytsar chuckled. “I would forfeit my life without hesitation to protect the Wolf Pup.” He looked around the room. “Now that we are in agreement, I will speak with the boy when he returns.”
Faelan arrived hours later. Rytsar met him outside and took him on a long walk with Little Sparrow following gleefully behind them.
Upon their return, Faelan surprised everyone with his announcement. “I feel it’s best I leave for Russia, the sooner the better.”
“You should think on this more,” Marquis insisted. “You don’t have the luxury of making rash decisions now that you are a father, especially in your current state.”
Faelan seemed offended by his assertion but mulled it over before answering. “You are right, Asher. I have been crazy with grief—in a literal sense. You and I both know it. I need a purpose I can focus on. Helping with Lilly gives me that. It will provide me with purpose while I work through the pain of Kylie’s death.”
“What about your baby? She needs you!” Celestia cried.
Faelan sounded remorseful when he answered. “I do not have the capacity to care for anyone right now. I’m asking for a grace period, Celestia. Will you continue to look after my daughter?”
Celestia looked distraught. “I would be happy to care for her, but I worry about the separation for her—and for you.”
Faelan shook his head. “It is better she is in the arms of someone who can give her the love and attention she needs.”
“If you are truly leaving, can you give me a name I can call her?” she begged.
Faelan sighed, looking in the direction of the baby’s room. “Call her Grace for the time being. God knows she and I could use plenty of it.”
“You are coming back, I hope?” Celestia asked with concern.
“I am not abandoning my child,” he assured her. “But I hope to be a better man…a better father on my return.”
She bowed her head. “Then I will pray for you to return safe and whole.”
“I will never be whole again.”
Celestia looked at him, her eyes filled with sympathy.
“I need to get far, far away from here,” he told everyone. “But joining Kylie is not an honorable option.”
He looked at Brie. “Being able to protect you from that creature? That gives me both purpose and distance.”
It was the first time she had seen a spark of determination from Faelan since Kylie’s death. It gave her hope for his future.
Marquis must have sensed it too, because he said, “If that is how you honestly feel, I will respect your decision.”
“Thank you, Asher.”
“It’s settled then.” Rytsar slapped Faelan on the shoulder. “Get packing. It’s cold in Russia.”
Brie left with Rytsar and Sir. She had a much lighter heart on the drive home, but now she had to face the idea of Rytsar leaving again.
“It seems like fate is determined to keep pulling you back to Russia,” she complained softly.
Rytsar smirked, wrapping his arm around her. “Are you going to miss me, radost moya?”
“Of course.”
Looking at Sir, he grinned. “Then I must give you a going-away present.”
Cuffed
Before Rytsar left for his extended trip, he invited them over for dinner. He’d informed them that it was a formal event and requested they dress for it.
Knowing it would be the last night they saw him before he left for Russia, Brie asked if he would like her parents to babysit Hope.
“Of course not. Moye solntse must attend!”
Brie had assumed his goodbye gift would be a night of kinky fun, but it appeared that was not the case.
“Dinner will be at seven. Do not be late.”
Just to make sure no kinkiness was involved, Brie asked, “If I happen to be late, will I be punished?”
“Your punishment will be knowing you’ve insulted me.”
His reply left no doubt this was simply a dinner invite.
However, Brie didn’t understand how serious Rytsar was about the formality of the evening until he sent Hope a sophisticated new dress. It was made of black lace ruffles with tiny pearls sewn onto the collar in a braided pattern.
After Hope’s dress arrived, Sir informed Brie, “I have a new gown for you to wear tonight as well. It’s waiting for you in the bedroom.”
Brie grinned, giving him a graceful bow before running to the bedroom.
On the bed, she found a conservative but alluring black gown. Lying beside the gown was the long strand of white pearls Sir had given her during her training. Although these pearls had a complex history, she had never forgotten the way he’d used them the first time as her Khan. Just thinking about it had her pussy quivering in delightful remembrance.
The gown had a low, sexy back and, when Brie put it on, she noticed that rather than concealing her baby bump, the dress accentuated it. She looped the pearls once before slipping them on and let them drape down her back.
For the evening, Sir dressed in his most expensive suit. The three of them looked like the definition of elegance and sophistication as they made their way to Rytsar’s home.
When Maxim answered the door, Brie was surprised to see he was dressed to the nines, as well. Incredible aromas wafted out the door, hinting at the feast they were about to enjoy.
Walking into the house, Brie spotted a man dressed in chef’s clothing moving round the kitchen and realized Rytsar had hired a personal chef for the evening.
“Would you like a cocktail while you wait?” Maxim asked formally.
“Certainly.” Sir smirked. “We’ll have two coconut waters on the rocks and a sippy cup of apple juice.”
Maxim kept a straight face and left them.
Brie glanced at the dining table and let out a little squeal. Candles ran down the center of the table, their flames reflecting the gold accents of the table settings and the beautiful crystal water goblets.
When Rytsar walked into the room, Brie’s jaw dropped. He was wearing a sharp, charcoal gray business suit with a vibrant red tie and sleek, polished dress shoes. She had never seen him look quite so striking before.
“Thank you for coming,” he stated in a regal voice.
Brie bowed her head.
“I must say, moy droog, your woman looks particularly stunning tonight.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Sir replied.
Rytsar looked down at his suit. “This? It’s something I had at the back of my closet.”
Walking over to Hope, he held out his arms to her. “Come to me, moye solntse. Let me look at how beautiful you are in your pretty little dress.”
Hope giggled as Rytsar lifted her into the air and twirled her around. “You look like a proper printsessa.”
To Br
ie’s surprise, Maxim returned, handing Sir and Brie their coconut water on ice in heavy cut crystal glasses, and then he held out a golden sippy cup to Hope. “Apple juice for the young lady.”
Hope grinned as she took the shiny cup from him. Bringing it to her lips, she began sucking on it eagerly.
Brie giggled. “I never would have thought gold sippy cups were a thing.”
“Only the best of the best for moye solntse,” Rytsar stated, smiling at the little girl.
Seeing Rytsar and Sir dressed in such fine suits was like an aphrodisiac for Brie—she couldn’t take her eyes off of them. It was almost as if the suits held some kind of power over her.
“What made you decide to hold such a formal dinner?” she asked, adding quickly, “Not that I’m complaining. I’m actually in awe at how handsome you both look tonight.”
Rytsar gazed at her with those intense blue eyes and she felt a shiver run through her. “This is my gift to you.”
Brie’s heart melted as she first glanced at the chef, busy making a multi-course meal, then to the elaborately set table. Her eyes drifted to Maxim dressed in finery beside her little girl, and finally to the glass of coconut water she held in her hand—a substance Rytsar abhorred.
All of this is for me?
She met his gaze, overwhelmed by the gift. A simple thank you was not enough. “I don’t know what to say, Rytsar.”
“Don’t say anything,” he smiled. “Just enjoy the evening, radost moya.”
“Dinner is served,” Maxim announced.
Overwhelmed with gratitude, Brie walked to the dining table with Sir. Rytsar directed her to sit at the head of the table.
She sat down with both men on either side. Rytsar insisted that Hope sit beside him.
The first course was caviar with blinis.
“This was a staple for holiday meals when I was young.”
Brie picked up the small blini. It had a dollop of sour cream and a generous amount of caviar spread on top.
Rytsar waited as she took a bite.
The tiny eggs popped delightfully in her mouth as she chewed, the saltiness of it mixing well with the sour cream and light pancake texture.
She daintily wiped her mouth with her napkin afterward, trying to keep with the formalness of the dinner. She smiled and told him, “I could eat these all day.”
He chuckled, giving Hope a small spoonful of the caviar to try. She bit down on the spoon, took the bite, and then stuck out her tongue as if she didn’t like it. It was adorable because her tongue was black from the caviar. When Rytsar tried to wipe it away with a napkin, Hope closed her mouth and started chewing with a quizzical expression.
“It’s an acquired taste, moye solntse,” Rytsar explained, chuckling with amusement.
The second course was a light, cold soup with a lemony tang to it. It was something both Brie and Hope enjoyed immensely.
“I remember this soup,” Sir stated when he tasted it.
“Would you like me to throw my spoon at you, moy droog?”
Brie looked up to see Rytsar ready to sling it at Sir’s face.
“I’ll pass this time,” Sir replied, chuckling.
Brie looked at them both, wondering what they were referencing.
Rytsar answered her unspoken question by telling her, “Your Master saved my life with this soup.”
Sir smirked. “So, he threw the spoon as thanks.”
Rytsar shrugged. “What can I say? I did not appreciate his efforts at the time.”
Brie listened with interest, sipping the soup as Rytsar and Sir reminisced, learning more about their fascinating past with each other. She was surprised to find out that shortly after Rytsar’s mother died, Sir traveled to Russia to find him, missing his last semester of college.
Rytsar admitted that he hated Sir for it at the time. “Your Master is a stubborn ass, radost moya.”
Brie struggled not to smile.
“However, a truer brother I could not find.” Rytsar held up his water goblet to him.
Sir nodded, holding up the coconut water. “The same is true of you—on both counts—old friend.”
Rytsar snorted.
The next course completely surprised Brie. Instead of another Russian dish, Brie was presented with a Cloche serving dish with a silver dome.
The moment Sir lifted his, he laughed.
Curious, Brie lifted hers and was confused to see a small plate of chicken and waffles. She looked at Rytsar in amusement.
“It was the beginning for you,” he answered cryptically as he secured a bib around Hope’s neck.
Brie turned to Sir, amused. “What does he mean?”
Sir sat back in his chair, grinning as he stared at the dish. “Back in college, Anderson introduced me to this dish.” He glanced at her. “I bet you can guess where it was made.”
Brie crinkled her brows, unsure what the southern dish had to do with her.
Rytsar picked up the side of warm maple syrup on the plate and poured it all over the fried chicken and waffle, a satisfied grin on his face.
Brie followed suit when she noticed Sir doing the same.
As they ate, the two men shared humorous stories about Master Anderson back in college. Laughter filled the room as they talked about his mini bullwhip named Myrtle and how legendary he was for laying on the cowboy charm.
“Remember how the cattle man was always on the hunt for the perfect ‘shoe’, comrade?”
Sir snickered.
Brie quickly deduced that the shoe they were talking about had to do with women who could handle Master Anderson’s enormous asset. She adored hearing the two men recount stories about their college days, many of which she had never heard before.
It made her feel a part of them somehow.
“In the end, I suppose I have Anderson to thank for meeting Brie,” Sir told Rytsar.
“I suppose you’re right, moy droog.”
When Brie was finished with her plate, Rytsar asked, “Have you figured out how this dish is related to you, radost moya?”
She discretely dabbed at her lips to wipe away the remaining syrup as she thought about it. Sir had mentioned she would know where it was made, and that Master Anderson had been involved somehow. Once she made the connection that it had something to do with their college years in LA, it didn’t take her long to figure it out.
Tears pricked her eyes as she thought back on that moment when she met Sir for the first time at the young age of seven. “Was it the diner?”
“Yes,” Sir answered with satisfaction. He leaned in to kiss her, murmuring, “You missed a spot, babygirl.” Brie trembled as he licked the side of her mouth.
“And now for dessert,” Rytsar announced.
Brie giggled. “I’m sorry, Rytsar, I couldn’t eat another bite.”
He frowned. “I hope that’s not true.”
Maxim presented Brie with a wrapped gift on a gold dessert plate.
Brie smiled at Rytsar as she eagerly pulled on the gold bow and opened the lid of the box. Inside were the jeweled handcuffs he had given her at the collaring ceremony.
More memories flooded her as she thought back to that night. She glanced at Sir, remembering the thrill she’d felt when he placed the collar around her neck and officially claimed her as his.
When Rytsar placed a bottle of chilled vodka beside the cuffs, Brie looked at him with a bemused grin. “You know I can’t drink.”
“Vodka makes everything taste better,” he replied in a seductive tone.
Rytsar turned to Hope and cleaned her face before taking off the bib and handing her to Maxim. “She loves it if you rock her on the horse. And, if all else fails, turn on her grandfather’s violin music and dance with her. She never tires of it.”
“Yes, gospodin.” Maxim took Hope from him and nodded to Brie before leaving the room.
“And then there were three…” Sir stated.
Brie’s heart skipped a beat when she realized that her kinky wish was about to come true.<
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Rytsar stood up, holding out his hand to Brie. “Would you care to join us in the bedroom, radost moya?”
Brie picked up the handcuffs before taking his hand. “If it pleases you,” she answered demurely.
Rytsar glanced at Sir who grabbed the bottle of vodka.
“It most certainly does.”
Once in the bedroom, Brie was ordered to undress both men. She took her time, enjoying the sensual nature of the process—the soft feel of the silk ties as she undid the knots and slipped them through the men’s collars, removing the tailored jackets before slowly unbuttoning their shirts one button at a time.
Brie always found it erotic when she exposed their bare chests, running her hands lightly over their firm muscles.
The shoes and socks came next. Then she undid their belts. The clinking sound of the metal as she unbuckled them always gave her a thrill.
Her movements were unhurried and reverent as she removed each piece of clothing, giving each Dom her full attention.
When they were both naked, Rytsar commanded her to give him the handcuffs. She did so eagerly, curious as to how he would use them. To her surprise, he put one of the cuffs around his wrist and the other around Sir’s.
“What will you do?” he asked with a smirk.
Brie’s eyes widened when she realized they were giving her free rein over their bodies. This was the ultimate power play—one where she was in control of the scene.
Normally, as the submissive, she was the one naked while her Dom remained dressed. Enjoying this unique dynamic, she chose to leave her clothes on for the scene.
Looking at their hard cocks, her eyes gravitated to the bottle of vodka. She picked it up, noting how cold it was, and giggled inwardly as she approached them.
Kneeling on the floor between the two men, Brie opened the bottle of Zyr, enjoying the pop of the cork.
Looking up at Rytsar, she purred. “You said everything tastes better with vodka…”
“I did.” His eyes burned with lust for her.
Brie held the neck of the bottle above his shaft and let it slowly pour down. She heard his sharp intake of breath and smiled, imagining the shock the chilled vodka would provide.
Opening her lips, she took his shaft into her warm mouth and heard him groan in pleasure as she moved up and down his cock at a leisurely pace.
