Brie Masters Love in Submission: Submissive in Love (48 page)

It was enough to push Sir over the edge…

He groaned loudly as his hips rhythmically thrust his cock deep into her throat. After the last burst of come, he pushed her off of him. “Hurry, there are towel dryers.”

She had no idea what he meant, but immediately flopped into her seat and swiped her mouth with her sleeve.

Sir didn’t have time to zip up his pants, and casually pulled his white shirt over his open fly as two smiling attendants started hand-drying the car.

Brie looked at Sir in disbelief. “I barely met that challenge, Sir.”

He hurried to adjust the seat back. “Neither of us was prepared for an audience at the end.”

She waved gleefully at the men as they pulled away from the carwash, and watched in the side-view mirror as the two started ribbing each other. Brie suspected they knew exactly what had just transpired.

“I appreciate the opportunity to please you, Sir. You know I love it.”

“I have another request.”

“My pleasure, Sir.”

“At the airport, after we have passed through security, I want you to take my belt and go to the restroom. Secure it under your dress, right about here.” He touched the lower part of her abdomen just above her mound, making her heart race with the simple contact. “Make sure it’s tight. I want you to feel the pressure of it the entire trip.”

It was a wickedly cruel but sexy command. The last time she had flown to Russia, Sir had given her a lesson on belts in a private cabin. She would be reminded of that lesson the entire flight, without any hope of release.

“You know, I’m a tad surprised that Rytsar didn’t insist on sending a jet for us, Sir.”

“I left a message when I couldn’t find a better flight, but he never called back. I have to assume he wasn’t able to make arrangements on such short notice.”

“But he does know we’re coming?” Brie asked, remembering how Tono Nosaka had been surprised by their visit.

“He does, and I’m expecting his normal shenanigans when we get there. That could be the reason he hasn’t returned my call—he’s too busy planning his next prank. However, this time you and I are prepared. It’s a waste of time on his part, but nothing can deter Durov once his mind is set.”

Brie giggled, looking out the car window as they approached the Eppley Airfield. “I wonder what it will be this time…”

Numerous times during the lengthy international flight, Sir slid his hand behind her back and lightly pulled on the belt under her dress. It hit just the right spot to cause a pleasant pressure in her loins, which further teased and excited her.

“Tweaking the details,” he murmured in her ear, “and later today I will grab on to that belt and fuck you like a slut, téa.”

She shivered, smiling to herself. Yes, Sir was an expert at tweaking the details.

It was a surprise to Brie when they got through Russian security without any hassles. Even more surprising was the fact that Rytsar was nowhere to be found once they were out.

“He’s still not answering his cell,” Sir griped as he thrust his phone into his pocket. “I guess we’ll take a cab.”

Sir lifted his hand to hail one. It took a while before a taxi finally pulled up. While Brie climbed into the vehicle, the driver put their luggage into the trunk and asked Sir where they were headed. The instant Sir stated the address, the man’s face fell. Without explanation, he unloaded the luggage and shook his head.

Sir spoke to the man in Russian, but he just kept repeating, “
Nyet
.” He gestured Brie out of his cab, then sped off as if the hounds of hell were following him.

“Well, that was odd.” Sir put his arm around Brie as he hailed another one.

After a few minutes, another cab pulled up. Before Sir let him take the luggage, he explained where he wanted to go. This cabbie looked alarmed, glancing around nervously before jumping into his vehicle and driving off with no explanation.

“Okay, now I am getting irritated,” Sir complained. “What is Durov up to?”

Sir hailed a third cab and explained where they were headed. The cabbie hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. Sir breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Keep your eyes open—Durov has to be around here someplace laughing his Ruski ass off.”

The cabbie exited the airport, but was silent for the entire drive, even when Sir spoke to him directly. It was eerie.

“I don’t understand where Durov is going with this ruse, but I don’t find it particularly funny. Do you?”

Brie shook her head. “Not at all, Sir.”

She felt chills as they rounded the corner of Rytsar’s street and she heard Sir’s intake of breath. She couldn’t see anything yet and asked, “What is it?”

He did not respond, a frozen expression of shock on his face. As they pulled up to Rytsar’s mansion, Brie understood why. The top half of the structure was gone, looking as if it had been physically ripped off, and what was left had been gutted by fire.

The cabbie quickly unloaded the luggage and demanded payment. Without counting the money or even looking back, he jumped back into the cab and hit the gas, leaving them standing in front of the ruins.

The shock of the scene held Brie speechless as she took in the devastation. She shook her head, not wanting to believe it. She followed silently behind Sir as he walked around the mansion. The back of it told the story. The entire side had been blown away as if by some tremendous explosion. Sir walked through the huge hole, carefully stepping over the rubble.

Brie finally found her voice and asked, “Do you think Rytsar survived?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s happened, Sir? What could have caused this?”

“It looks like a bomb, but as far as I know, Durov didn’t have any enemies.”

“Is it possible he got tangled up with the Russian mafia?”

“The Durov family does not engage in
Bratva
activities.”

“Could he have become a target because of that?”

Sir’s voice was empty when he answered. “I can’t say.” He walked farther inside, trying to make sense of the destruction around them.

“Rytsar…” Brie whimpered.

“This wasn’t survivable,” Sir stated dully.

“But he must have gotten out,” Brie insisted, needing Sir to reassure her.

“I haven’t heard from him for three days.” Sir closed his eyes, his breathing becoming labored.

Brie grabbed on to him, tears falling silently as she glanced around at the burnt wreckage that had once been Rytsar’s home. “He can’t…”

“If this is related to the
Bratva
, then it explains the strange behavior of the cab drivers.” Sir put his arm protectively around Brie. “We need to leave—we’re not safe here.”

“But we have to find out what happened to Rytsar,” she cried desperately.

Sir grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “No one could survive this.”

Brie’s lip trembled.

He let go of her, the look of devastation on his face gutting her. Sir looked around the ruins, shaking his head in disbelief. “He’s gone…”

“But not forgotten,” a jovial voice announced behind them.

Brie turned around, her mouth agape as Rytsar walked up, a huge grin on his face. “It was truly beautiful to see your heartfelt concern for your old comrade, but not to fear. I am alive and well.”

Sir stared at him for several seconds before he punched Rytsar square in the face. The large Russian crashed to the ground.

“You never joke about that!”

Rytsar’s entourage advanced on Sir, ready to restrain him, but Rytsar got back to his feet, rubbing his jaw slowly. “Stop, no need,” he said, calling back his guards.

Sir’s eyes burned with anger as he stared down the Russian Dom.

“I’m so touched,
moy droog
. You—”

“You
never
joke about death.” Sir turned away, his jaw quavering slightly.

Rytsar’s jovial expression disappeared. “I’m sorry…” He tried to touch Sir’s shoulder, but he jerked away from the Russian.

“Never.”

Rytsar nodded. “You’re right. It was a cruel joke.” He reached out and grabbed Sir in a bear hug, refusing to let go. “I am heartily sorry.”

Sir let out an angry sigh. “Don’t ever fuck with me like that again.”

Rytsar pulled back to look him in the eyes. “It was only meant in jest, but I won’t,
moy droog.
I give my solemn promise.”

Sir pushed him away, straightening his jacket with quick, jerky movements. “See that you don’t.”

Rytsar turned to Brie next, brushing away the remaining tears from her cheeks. “I apologize to you as well,
radost moya
. I did not appreciate how deeply you felt.”

“Liar,” Sir snarled.

The Russian Dom shook his head sadly. “I did not mean to cause a rift between us, brother.”

Sir’s lip twitched. “I don’t forgive you, but I will look past this.”

“Good, because I lost everything when the gas main exploded,” Rytsar said, gesturing at the ruins around him.

Sir nodded in new understanding. “So that’s what happened here.”

“That’s terrible, Rytsar,” Brie cried. “What a horrible loss for you.”

“Generations lost,” he growled angrily.

Brie remembered all the heirlooms, the fine paintings, numerous antiques—the sheer amount of history that had been lost in the explosion was devastating.

“Mercifully, it happened on a Sunday when my staff was away,” he explained.

“Where were you?” Brie asked.

He raised his eyebrow. “I was…occupied at the time.”

She blushed and looked down at her feet, trying to hide her smile.

“Certain friends of mine pressured the local government to rebuild it, since a home of such rich historical significance was destroyed due to a faulty gas line. Construction will start once the area has been shored up and deemed safe. It is a testament to my forefathers that the foundation of my ancestral home remains solid.”

“What about the items lost in the fire, Durov?” Sir asked.

Rytsar snorted in satisfaction. “I am being adequately compensated.”

“But all your family heirlooms, all those memories…” Brie lamented.

“
Da,
but something of great value to me was spared.”

“Really?” Sir remarked with interest.

Rytsar started walking farther into the interior of the building, waving his hand for them to follow.

Brie turned to Sir. “Is it safe?”

“Probably not.”

Sir followed the Russian anyway, and since he hadn’t forbidden Brie, she followed behind him.

“As you know, Father and I never had much in common, but even he would have been pleased.”

Rytsar led them down what remained of the stairs and opened the thick door that led down to the dungeon. Brie gasped as she stepped inside. It looked completely untouched, as pristine as the day she’d visited it last. The walls were lined with lit torches, hinting at the fact that he’d planned to show them this little ‘miracle’ all along.

“I can’t believe it’s unscathed, considering the violence of the explosion,” Sir said in amazement.

“It is truly a
chudo,
” Rytsar agreed. He walked over to the wall of instruments. “My men have been thorough in checking for damage, but have yet to report any. I have, however, discovered one pleasant byproduct left by the fire that raged above.” He picked up his cat o’ nines and dragged it under his nose, breathing in deeply. “All of my instruments retain the scent of the smoke. I find it an alluring addition.”

He held out the cat o’ nines to Brie. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Brie walked over to take a whiff, but her body shivered being so close to the instrument, having experienced its ferocious bite. She smelled the leather, taking in the aroma, and looked up at him in surprise. “I do find it pleasing.”

He caressed the cat o’ nines sensually and asked, “Would you like another session,
radost moya
?”

Brie backed up to Sir, distancing herself from the Russian. “No, once was more than enough. Thank you.”

Sir chuckled. “I think you have effectively cured my sub of that desire.”

Rytsar put the tool back on the wall. “Such a shame,” he said wistfully, stroking the length of it. “It’s one of my favorite pastimes.”

“So, Durov, where have you been staying since the explosion?”

“I have several apartments in Moscow. Housing is not a problem, only an inconvenience.”

Brie crinkled her brow in confusion, wondering why he would have multiple residences when he lived in a mansion.

“There’s still one thing I can’t wrap my head around,” Sir said. “Why did the drivers behave so strangely at the airport? It makes no sense, given that this was only a gas explosion.”

Rytsar slapped him on the back, laughing. “I informed the taxi companies of your arrival and offered a healthy sum if they refused to take you. All but one driver, of course. Were they convincing? I promised an extra bonus if they were.”

“Yes, Durov, they were,” Sir stated dryly. “You should dig deep into your wallet. I hope it hurts.”

“That is good to hear,” he answered with a satisfied grin.

When Sir frowned, Rytsar immediately realized his folly and said, “Let’s forget the unpleasantness and concentrate on the rest of your stay here. I assume you will be headed to the cabin.”