Her Russian Knight:
Brie’s Submission #13
By
Red Phoenix
Her Russian Knight: Brie’s Submission
Copyright © 2017 by Red Phoenix
Kindle Edition
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
[email protected] Edited by Jennifer Blackwell, Proofed by Becki Wyer & Marilyn Cooper
Cover by Viola Estrella
Formatted by BB Books
Phoenix symbol by Nicole Delfs
Adult Reading Material (18+)
Dedication
To every fan of Rytsar Durov – that sexy Russian sadist we all know and love.
#TeamRytsar
To my beautiful fans who review every book and make me laugh with their guesses about what they think will happen next in the story,
You have my heart and gratitude.
While writing Her Russian Knight, a significant event happened in our lives…
MrRed and I celebrated our 25th Anniversary!
This man is not only the father of my three beautiful children,
He is my best friend
My lover
My soulmate
My confidant
My encourager
My inspiration
My Sir
CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Description
Lea and the Dungeon
Mishka’s Claiming
Isle Dreams
The Twins
Light in His Darkness
Unlikely Ally
Confronting the Traitor
Blood Bond
Tormented Past
Casting the Net
Heartbeat
Punishment
Whispers
Confessions
Tatianna
Alternate Plans
Lost
His Vow
Other Red Phoenix Books
Connect with Red on Substance B
Description
Wicked sadist – sexy but fierce
Rytsar Durov is a sadist—and he’s upset. Bones may be broken.
The Russian Dom is a force unto himself and he intends to take care of the threat once and for all.
No one touches radost moya. NO ONE!
Nothing fazes this sexy Russian Dom, but how will he cope when he finds out the tragedy that’s befallen his comrade—the only man he calls Brother?
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#10 (Enchant Me)
The Romantic Honeymoon
#11 (A Cowboy’s Heart)
Master Anderson’s Story
#12 (Breathe with Me)
Tono Nosaka’s Story
#13 (Her Russian Knight)
Rytsar Durov’s Story
Lea and the Dungeon
Rytsar woke up craving to play.
He walked down the corridors of the castle with a confident stride, his boots echoing pleasantly through the halls. He was impatient to release his sadistic needs and hoped he would be able to find a female from the wedding to succumb to his cat-o’-nine-tails.
When Rytsar entered the dining area, he surveyed the room of ladies seated for breakfast. Many were sitting in pairs, so he concentrated on those who appeared to have come alone. A few glanced his way and blushed when their eyes met, but it was Ms. Taylor who caught his attention as she leaned over, exposing her luscious breasts as she covered Brie’s eyes.
He walked over to them and caught the tail end of her compliment. “…You were positively glowing when you entered the room. Are you already pregnant?”
Rytsar smirked, looking at Thane knowingly. The man exuded a sexual aura this morning that was impossible not to notice.
He could tell by the ravenous look in his comrade’s eye that Thane was currently imagining how he would position his new wife for the next fucking. Slapping him hard on the back, Rytsar said loudly, “Moy droog, I trust you made it count last night.”
Rytsar appreciated the contrast from the smug look on his comrade’s face and the expression of shock and disgust on the father-in-law’s.
It was amusing to stir up trouble…
After listening to the heated exchange between Thane and Brie’s father, Rytsar leaned down and whispered in Brie’s ear, “Radost moya, I agree with Ms. Taylor. You do look particularly radiant today.”
He was gratified by her stunning smile and turned his attention back to his comrade, saying with wicked sincerity, “If you should need anything—anything at all—I am here for you, moy droog.”
Thane raised an eyebrow. “Rest assured, old friend, I have things under control.”
Rytsar chuckled, taking Brie’s hand and kissing it before excusing himself.
He decided light conversation was in order before he made the rounds of potential playmates, so he invited Lea to sit with him for breakfast. “Tell me, Ms. Taylor, did you have a pleasurable evening?”
“Did I ever! An entire castle full of hot Italian men? What isn’t there to love?”
He nodded and asked, “I assume you sampled a few?”
She grinned but shook her head. “Actually, I didn’t find what I was looking for. However, I had a whole lotta fun window shopping.”
Rytsar looked her over with interest. “How do you swing, Ms. Taylor?”
Lea laughed, her eyes twinkling. “I’m open to any new experience. These days, the more challenging the better.”
“And sadists?”
A red blush started from her ample chest and made its way up to her cheeks. “Well, I think my last dentist was a sadist. He insisted on giving me helium. I’d never heard of that being used at a dentist office before and asked him if it would help with the pain. Do you know what he said?”
Rytsar shook his head, staring at her intently, waiting for the punchline.
“He told me, ‘No, but when you scream, it’s funny.’”
Rytsar chuckled, picking up his fork as the waiter set down their plates. “Amusing.”
“Hah, you think I’m kidding.”
“Aren’t you?”
Lea shrugged, a mischievous grin his only answer.
“So the question I have is…” He stopped, his forkful of meat only inches from his mouth. “Did you like it?” He winked at her as he enclosed his lips around the savory morsel.
Lea’s wide smile showed off her pearly whites in answer to his question. “Just see how pretty my teeth are?”
Was the girl offering herself or simply teasing him?
“Mind if I break in?”
Rytsar was pleased to see Brie standing beside them. He was a bit jealous of Thane, knowing the wicked fun they would have on the isle during their honeymoon. For now, he would have to content himself with his fantasies centered on the next time they visited the island—as a threesome.
He offered his lap to the newlywed, since there were no extra chairs at their table, but when Brie told him she preferred to stand, he immediately stood up beside her. Lea followed suit, leaving him staring at her impressive cleavage.
Rytsar began imagining what he could do to those lovely tits, and
barely followed the conversation until he noticed Brie staring at him sternly. “We calmed him down…no thanks to you.”
He struggled not to laugh, secretly gloating that he had ruffled her father’s paternal feathers. Putting his hand over his heart, he asked, “I only wanted to know if my wish to become a dyadya was now a reality.”
Rytsar noticed Brie blush in pleasure.
The fact she might really be pregnant thrilled him. Rytsar had often been visited by the vision of holding her tiny child and being completely charmed by the wee one’s smile. He experienced a pleasant stirring in his heart whenever he thought about the babe.
Placing his hand on her belly, he told Brie, “When tiny radost moya is ready to marry, I will not want to dwell on it.” It was true—the thought of his niece being ravaged by a stupid boy someday totally enraged him.
With his hand still resting on her stomach, he asked with sincerity, “Should I go apologize to your father?”
“Oh, goodness, no!” She giggled. “You’ll only make things worse by bringing it up again.”
Rytsar smiled as he removed his hand, and leaned down to growl in her ear, “Married life agrees with you.”
He watched with satisfaction as Brie blushed a second time. Lea suddenly gave Brie a hip bump and announced, “The next time we see each other I’ll either be collared or living in LA.”
Rytsar’s curiosity was piqued and he asked her, “Collared by whom?”
Lea looked at him with wide, doe-like eyes but didn’t make a peep.
“Are you hoping to return to Russia with me?” he teased. He moved closer, trailing his finger slowly over the girl’s throat. “I have yet to introduce you to my cat o’ nines, Ms. Taylor. Shall we head down to the castle dungeon and see how it suits you?”
He could sense her desire and noticed as the rosy hue darkened on her magnificent chest. Oh yes, the girl was aroused by the proposition. “I see the idea excites you,” he whispered huskily, his cock already hardening at the thought of chaining her up in the dungeon. “Come with me and we can test your limits.”
“Although I’m curious…”
Rytsar was not going to take no for an answer. It was clear to him she wanted to scene as much as he did. He bit down on her shoulder, stating his dominance as he teased her senses.
“I can’t,” she gasped softly.
“But you can.”
Biting her other shoulder, he felt her resistance crumble as her body surrendered to his will. It was going to be a satisfying session…
“Come, Ms. Taylor. Let’s play.”
Rytsar walked out of the room, knowing Lea was following behind. He was already mentally planning out his scene for her as they walked across the courtyard.
From behind him, she blurted, “Hey, so there were these two girls waiting to use the bathroom. The sadist ahead of them in line winks at them as he closes the door, telling the girls, ‘This may take a while so enjoy the wait. I’ve got to shake hands with a dear friend of mine, whom I hope to introduce you both to later…’”
Rytsar shook his head as he continued to walk to the other side of the courtyard, knowing her joke was meant as a gift of sorts. Lea leaned on the comfort of silly banter, but he wanted so much more for her.
Opening the door leading down to the dungeon, he turned and warned, “Watch your step, Ms. Taylor. I don’t want you to hurt yourself falling.” He smiled hungrily as he leaned close and added in a lustful tone, “I want to be the only source of your pain.”
Her little gasp set the sadist in him on fire. Today’s session would be one to remember, there was no doubt in his mind, and he pondered why he had never played with the vixen until now.
Rytsar guided her down the narrow steps and through the hallway lit by torches all the way to the dungeon gate. The sound of the iron hinges creaking as he opened it for her added to the ambiance of their deviant encounter.
Two pillar candles on either side of a lone pole provided an eerie glow.
“Strip, Ms. Taylor, and kneel at my feet.”
Lea immediately undressed, giving Rytsar his first unencumbered view of those incredibly large breasts. Although they were surgically enhanced, her physician had done a remarkable job making them look natural and very pleasing to both the eye and groin.
Rytsar watched her kneel demurely at his feet, her head bowed and her palms open in submission.
“I need to retrieve my instrument. You will wait here until my return.”
“Yes, Rytsar,” she answered with bated breath.
With a wicked grin, he blew out the first candle and then the second, leaving only the glow from the light in the hallway to illuminate the room.
Rytsar closed the gate, letting it clink into place. He had no lock, but it was unnecessary. Ms. Taylor had the freedom to leave—but would she? Only her own self-determination and desire to scene with him would prevent her from walking out.
It was a test, and a lesson of sorts—if she was willing to learn from it.
He turned from Lea and slowly walked down the hallway, his boots echoing in the dark as he snuffed out each torch, leaving Ms. Taylor completely in the dark.
Rytsar took his time stripping out of his clothes. He slipped on his brown leather pants and put his boots back on, no other clothing necessary when scening with his ’nines.
As he gathered his beloved tool, Rytsar was struck by how fortunate he was. The submission of a woman in the hands of a sadist was a truly hallowed exchange. It was extraordinary to find someone not only willing to lay down their own desires, but to accept and embrace the pain he longed to offer—and he did not receive that gift lightly.
There was a time he had, under the tutelage of his father—a man who refused to recognize his submissives as thinking, spiritual beings. His father had taught Rytsar early on that women had been created solely for the purpose of fulfilling a man’s pleasure. It never crossed his father’s mind to appreciate a woman’s submission, much less to thank her for it.
Hell, the great Vladimir Durov would not consider thanking a woman any more than he would thank a piece of steak for being succulent.
Having been cruelly treated by his father as a boy, Rytsar thought nothing of his callous treatment of submissives. It wasn’t until college, when Rytsar witnessed Thane interact with the young sub named glee, that he realized his father had it all wrong.
That realization unbalanced his world—his whole way of thinking.
Now it seemed a tragic waste that he had personally whipped and fucked countless women with zero empathy or connection. How many of the girls had enjoyed his sadistic attentions, how many had endured it because of who he was, and how many had silently hated him for unleashing his pain on their bodies?
He’d never know the answer to those questions because he’d never once cared to ask.
Safewords were not employed in his father’s circle.
In Vladimir Durov’s mind, aftercare was a joke, emphasizing the weakness of any Dominant who dared to employ it. However, when Rytsar saw the connection between Thane and glee, and her growing adoration for his American friend, he realized that his father was a fool.
Although it took years to fully convert to a version of D/s similar to Thane’s, Rytsar came to understand and embrace its raw power. When he started connecting with his submissives, he instantly noticed a change in his BDSM encounters.
While the subs had always taken an instant liking to him in whatever social group he was a part of, they now sought him out for private encounters. These women opened up themselves in ways they never had before because of the foundation of trust he’d established.
It allowed Rytsar to explore their limits more fully—taking him to heights he’d never experienced.
Truly, each encounter was like a small miracle. Although he had been born into violence, it had transformed into something exquisite when he scened with a submissive. They became his addiction of choice.
But the one thing he never allowed his submissives
was entrance into his heart.
Tatianna was his only soulmate, and when she’d died, a vital part of him had died with her. He was incapable of love—or so he believed until he met Brie.
Radost moya was like a breath of fresh air. Knowing she was Thane’s mate allowed Rytsar to draw close to her without any emotional barriers, and that ended up being his undoing. It had surprised him the day he’d acknowledged his love for Brie.
Rytsar had confessed it to Thane that very afternoon, when his friend had rushed to pick up Brie after the incident involving the maggot who’d tried to sell a young girl at the club. How strange that by killing that pathetic excuse of a man, the action had inadvertently sparked deeper feelings for Brie.
Rytsar remembered well the conversation he’d had with Thane that day…
“Moy droog, I am heartily sorry for compromising Brie’s safety last night.”
Thane cleared his throat, obviously troubled. “I trust those who witnessed it will never speak of it again. Frankly, I have no issues about what you did as long as it doesn’t endanger her. At the very least, the reign of terror he caused ended last night. I can only hope the girl you saved survives this.”
“The maggot needed to die,” Rytsar growled in agreement. “Titov is watching over the girl now. He assures me that she is…adjusting. I can only hope. Mercifully, her parents fly in this afternoon, so I moved up her appointment for the medical procedure. No parent should have to see physical evidence that their daughter was treated like an animal.” Rytsar spat on the ground.
Thane shook his head. “The evil people are capable of is truly shocking.”
Rytsar glanced at his friend. “Both you and I have experienced it first-hand—at the hands of our own kin.”
Thane snorted in response to the truth of his statement. Looking out the window at Brie, he said, “Thank God there are still good people in the world.”
Rytsar knew the time had come to own up to his new feelings for Brie, but he was concerned how it would affect their brotherhood once Thane knew. “Comrade, I must confess that I am no longer infatuated with your woman.”