Page 107 of Bound by Love
Sir told her to relax against him. He slowly poured the warm water over her body, rinsing the soap from her skin. She shivered in pure pleasure and asked him to do it several more times.
When the water began to get cold, Rytsar held out a towel to Brie, wrapping her in its fluffy goodness. As for Sir, Rytsar did not hand him the towel, but whipped it instead, smacking his thigh hard with the end of it.
Sir let out a surprised yowl, snagging the towel from Rytsar, then chuckled ominously as he looked down and watched a red welt appear on his skin. “You are going to pay for that, old friend.”
Rytsar smirked. “There is nothing you could do that would faze me.”
“We’ll see about that.”
As Sir rubbed the welt, Brie noticed the smile playing on his lips as he toweled off and wondered what he was planning.
Once he was thoroughly dried off, Rytsar brought out a custom-made sex swing. With Sir’s help, he attached it to the anchor in the ceiling. Brie stared at it with interest, remembering her first time in one with Baron.
“Before we begin our next round, I say we have a drink and make a toast,” Sir suggested.
Rytsar turned to him, grinning. “Vodka is always an excellent idea, comrade.”
“I thought you’d agree.”
Sir made the drinks while Rytsar beckoned Brie to his lap. She sat and curled up against him, feeling completely relaxed and pliable—exactly how they wanted her.
As Rytsar held her close he began humming his mother’s lullaby. Its haunting melody was now familiar to her since he often serenaded Hope with his mother’s song.
“Hum with me,” he commanded. Brie did her best to keep the same rhythm and tone as they hummed it together. “Good,” he complimented. “Keep humming.”
Rytsar surprised her when he sang the words in his native language, his voice low and melodic. Their harmonious exchange was enchanting and magical, especially since Brie lacked the actual talent to sing herself. When they were done, he chuckled warmly, kissing her on the head.
“Very nice,” Sir praised, handing a glass to Rytsar.
Sir pulled Brie from Rytsar’s lap and wrapped his arm around her, handing her a drink as well.
The shot glasses were made of the same blue glass as the tub. “They’re such a pretty color,” Brie commented, staring at it with appreciation.
Sir told her, “Another heirloom from our friend.”
“What shall we toast to, brother?”
“Why not brotherly love?” Sir answered Rytsar with a slight smile.
Brie raised her glass. “To brotherly love, then.”
“Amen,” Rytsar replied with a chuckle as he tossed back his drink. He immediately spewed liquid all over himself and started gagging as he grabbed his throat.
“What’s wrong?” Brie cried.
Sir started laughing when Rytsar threw him a nasty glare.
Brie ran to get a towel and handed it to Rytsar. “What happened?”
He looked at her with an expression of utter disgust. “Coconut water.”
Sir held up his glass. “Here’s to getting even, old friend.”
There was silence for a moment before Rytsar pointed his finger at Sir accusingly and started laughing. Brie joined in, looking at both men in amusement.
“I should never have doubted your craftiness, brother,” Rytsar confessed when he could finally speak again. “But if you ever replace my vodka with coconut water again, I will kill you.”
Sir started laughing again. “The look on your face…”
