Brie's Russian Fantasy (After Graduation, #3) (20 page)

Brie closed her eyes and nodded.

Sir reprimanded her softly. “Open those pretty eyes.”

She looked at Sir as the round head of Rytsar’s cock pressed against her.
Breathe
, she reminded herself as he separated her buttocks and pushed a little harder.

“Open for him, téa,” Sir commanded, before they locked lips.

She became lost in his kiss, but cried out when the head of Rytsar’s cock breached her entrance. It stretched her achingly, but she found it immensely satisfying. The Russian grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled her head back as he held onto her waist with his other hand.

Sir stared up at her lustfully, watching her varying expressions as she accepted Rytsar inside her. Soft mews escaped her lips as her body struggled to take both men at once.

The Russian Dom leaned forward and bit her on the shoulder blade. Growling against her skin, he left a trail of bite-marks on her back. She cried out in passion and felt him thrust his shaft even deeper.

Sir wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, drawing her to him. “Deny us nothing, téa,” he said, kissing her bottom lip.

“Yes, Master,” she murmured breathlessly. Rytsar started on her right shoulder blade, causing Brie to moan again.

“I want to feel my cock deep inside you,
radost moya.
I will pump my hot seed deep in this tight ass.”

His dirty words had a positive effect as her body received another inch of his shaft. “More,” she cried, but her body resisted farther advancement, despite her willingness.

Sir sneaked his hand down and smacked her on the butt. The sexy sound of it turned her on. “Again, Master,” she begged.

“Make room,” Sir told Rytsar as he wound up to spank her properly. The second stinging slap caused her to yelp in pleasure.

Rytsar’s deep groan greeted their play as his cock sank all the way in. Brie felt chills as her body accepted the fullness of both men. She panted against Sir’s chest, savoring the moment.

Sir gave her time to adjust before he seized her hips for leverage and pulled out so he could thrust back inside her. Rytsar waited to match his rhythm before grabbing her waist and alternating his strokes. The men kept the rhythm slow but consistent, allowing her body to grow accustomed to the movement before they began fully thrusting inside her.

Brie screamed the first time they each gave a full stroke. It was almost too much. Sir kept his eyes on her. “Give in, téa.” She closed her eyes as a tingling sensation grew from her core and slowly spread outwards.

“Good girl.”

Brie opened her eyes for Sir and basked in the glory of receiving both cocks deeply. Pleasing both Doms at the same time was deliciously decadent—the ultimate fantasy.

Rytsar changed things up when he stopped thrusting and grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her up so that her back was against his chest. He wrapped one hand around her throat and nibbled on her neck as he clasped her right breast possessively with his other hand. “My cock missed you,
radost moya.
”

Brie moaned, her body remembering quite well the last time he’d taken her.

Sir used the opportunity to rub his fingers vigorously against her clit. Her pussy was already on fire, engorged with fierce desire. She twitched in Rytsar’s arms as Sir stoked the flames. She thrashed her head against the Russian’s chest, a captive to the orgasm they were about to unleash.

She started screaming, unable to form coherent words. “Ah… Ahh…!”

Brie turned her head and bit down on Rytsar’s wrist in desperation. He roared his approval, forcing his cock deep into her ass as his hand tightened around her neck. “Yes,” he growled hoarsely. “Come for my cock,
radost moya
.”

She looked down at Sir, her whole body melting when she saw the intensity of his gaze—as if he could swallow her whole. He mouthed the words, “Come now.”

It was a confusion of sensations as her pussy tried to contract but could not, being stretched unnaturally tight. Instead, it became an intense burning that radiated from her pussy and blew through her. Her scream caught in her throat as her senses were blinded by the rush.

When she regained her awareness, she found herself staring down at Sir while Rytsar breathed low, haunting words into her ear, probably Russian—Brie was oblivious.

Rytsar let go of her and she returned her head to Sir’s chest, reveling in the unique subspace they had evoked.

Brie purred, “Yes,” when they started up again, thrusting deep into her body. She became a ravenous canvas for them, anxious to be transformed into something new by the two sexual artists.

Sir ordered her to cross her arms behind her. He then wrapped her in a tight embrace. “Fuck her,” he commanded of Rytsar, while he remained still, buried in her quivering pussy.

Sir effectively became her bindings as he gave Rytsar free rein over her ass. Instead of pumping into her hard, he experimented with different angles. It took time until Rytsar found the one that made her shudder all over.

Being held captive by Sir was sexy on all kinds of levels. She listened to his heartbeat as Rytsar began stroking her at the perfect angle. Each thrust brought a symphony of pleasure. She rejoiced in the feeling, allowing it to carry her higher.

Rytsar grunted as she tensed. The sound of his lusty pleasure turned her on further. She felt her pussy start to pulse in time with her Master’s heartbeat. She was sexually in sync with him, and the thought of it sent her to the edge.

“Master, I want to come for you.”

“Yes, téa.”

Tears of joy ran down Brie’s cheeks as she lost herself. She heard the lustful releases of both men as they rocked her body with their orgasms, and then all became warm and silent. She floated higher, as if in a dream, the alcohol enhancing the natural high of her subspace.

When she felt Rytsar move, she protested. Sir chuckled beneath her. “All good things must come to an end, my little flyer.”

It was with reluctance that she returned to earth as the lonely sound of a cell phone echoed in the other room.

Rytsar finally disengaged to answer it. He returned, holding the cell phone out to Sir.

Sir took it and answered in an official tone, not giving away the fact he was naked and buried inside his sub.

The person on the other end was speaking so fast, Brie could not make out what was said, but she grew concerned at Sir’s serious expression. “We will be leaving in a few days. Surely, that will leave enough time.” He paused again. “I’m afraid so.”

Brie quietly detached herself from him, trying to conceal her worry.

When Sir finally snapped the phone shut, he surprised her by laughing.

“What’s going on?” Rytsar demanded.

“Sorry, friend. I’m not allowed to speak of it. But I need to see if we can’t get a flight out sooner.”

He turned to Brie with a wistful look on his face. “Well, babygirl…it looks like your life is about to change.”

A Gift

W
hen they returned to the cabin, Sir helped her out of her winter clothing and told her to warm herself by the fire. She gladly complied, curling up on the hearth as close to the warmth as her naked skin would allow.

Sir asked Rytsar in a joking tone, “Did you miss us?”

“You, no.
Radost moya
, yes.”

He chuckled good-naturedly. “Fair enough. I find her company far more agreeable than yours as well.”

Rytsar slapped him hard on the back. “Time for some vodka!” He marched to the kitchen and brought back three glasses and a plate of small pickles. He smiled gleefully at Brie. “Tonight we make you a real woman!”

Brie had avoided joining the drinking games the men had enjoyed nearly every night. Today it didn’t look like that was going to be allowed. Rytsar handed her the first glass and passed the other one to Sir.

“Brie, you are expected to drink it in one gulp,” Sir reminded her.

She looked at the large amount Rytsar had poured into the glass and shook her head.

“Do not insult the host,” Rytsar reprimanded, holding up his glass and a pickle.

Sir picked up one of the green appetizers and motioned to Brie. “You should take a bite after you down the drink. It helps, trust me.”

Brie picked up a small pickle and looked at it dubiously.

“Z
a zdarov’ye!
” Rytsar toasted with a mischievous grin.

Sir held up his glass in response to the toast.

They both looked at her expectantly, so she held up her glass and smiled.

Both men exhaled deeply to one side and then threw back their heads and gulped the drink down. Brie was horrified and amazed to see them drink so much at once. Before they were finished she exhaled quickly and threw her head back. She struggled to take a gulp and then another to down the burning liquid. She was about to take a breath when Rytsar tipped the glass back up.

“Drink,” he commanded with a wink.

With determination, she downed the entire glass, tears pricking her eyes as her whole nasal passage burned from the strong alcohol. “Eat,” he said kindly, taking the glass from her and holding the pickle to her lips. She struggled not to cough as she took a small bite.

Rytsar grinned and smacked her on the back. “Well done,
radost moya!”
He immediately poured another glass for all three. Brie looked at Sir nervously.

Sir’s smiled was reassuring. “Russian tradition, little sub, but you can call your safe word.”

“No!” Rytsar laughed. “
Radost moya
is no coward.” He handed her back the glass with the same amount of liquid as the first time. The alcohol was already warming her entire body. It was an agreeable feeling, now she’d got past the initial unpleasantness.

She held up her glass to show her willing participation.

Sir nodded his approval and gave the next toast. “To all the pigheaded aristocrats in the world.”

Rytsar looked properly insulted, but he and Brie clinked glasses.

It was just as much of a struggle as the first time, but she drank it all without any help. Afterwards, she took a big bite of the salty pickle and grinned at both men.

“You are now an honorary Russian,” Rytsar proclaimed, giving her a spirited pat on the back that sent her tumbling into Sir’s arms.

“Had enough?” her Master asked.

It took a few seconds to formulate the correct answer with all the warm yumminess coursing through her. “If it pleases you, Sir.”

He put her glass down and answered, “It does, téa. I think you’ve had enough.” He gave his own glass back to Rytsar. “I, however, would like another.”

Rytsar gladly filled it up. “My turn for the toast.”

Sir nodded with a grin. “You
are
the host.”

Brie had expected to hear a witty insult. Instead Rytsar said, “To you,
moy droog
. You have seen me through great troubles.”

Sir’s face suddenly became solemn. “Same here, my friend.” The two clinked glasses and downed their drinks, giving each other a heartfelt embrace afterwards. It was the most vulnerable Brie had seen Sir, other than with her. In that moment, she understood how close the two really were—like brothers.

Rytsar cleared his throat afterwards. “One more?” he asked, holding up the vodka bottle.

“No. I need to remain clear-headed,” Sir replied.

Rather than giving Sir a hard time, Rytsar nodded and poured himself a drink, then downed it easily. He gave a satisfied sigh and smiled at Brie. “Nothing like vodka to open up the soul.”

Brie giggled, flying on the warm cloud that was consuming her from the inside out.

“Come, Brie,” Sir commanded. She looked over to see him sitting on the couch with his legs spread open.

As she approached Sir, she asked, “How would you like me, Master?”

He patted the area next to him. She giggled, finding it funny that he didn’t want her between his legs. She gracefully sat down next to her Master. Sir told her to lay her head on his lap, and he began stroking her hair.

Rytsar joined them, sitting on the other side of Sir. He sighed loudly after he’d sat down. “I will miss you, peasant. It has been good to have you in my homeland.”

Sir continued petting Brie’s hair as he spoke. Tingles of electricity ran down her spine as his deep voice rumbled. “It is a shame it must end, Donkova. This has reminded me of old times.”