Brie Surrenders her Heart (After Graduation, #8) (4 page)

Brie ripped open the envelope and read her message:

I have created the perfect gift for you, Brie! I can hardly stand having to wait. Turn the card over to reveal your special surprise.

She grinned at Sir as she turned it over, but then her smile disappeared. There was nothing written on the back. It was completely blank.

“Is this a joke?” she asked, waving the card at Sir.

He chuckled. “She’s
your
friend.”

Brie tossed it on the bed, formulating a plan to get even with the girl. She picked up Tono’s envelope next.

“Interesting that you would choose that one,” Sir commented off-handedly.

She tilted her head, now curious. “Why?”

“Their gift is interconnected.”

Brie giggled. “So Lea
did
get me a present after all!”

She was much more careful when she opened Tono’s. He’d used special rice paper and painted his signature orchid on the front. She pulled out the thin parchment and read a simple haiku, each line written in traditional Japanese script, with the words written in English for her underneath:

Together as one

In desire and spirit

An erotic gift

Brie read it several times, but was unsure of its meaning. “Sir?”

He smiled, but shook his head. “Your surprise is not for me to reveal.”

“But you know what it is?” she queried.

“Yes, little sub. There will be no more questions on the subject.”

“Are all the gifts going to be equally mysterious?” she pouted.

He held up the tray and winked. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Brie took Rytsar’s from the pile because it was extra thick and promising. What she pulled out looked like an official government document, but it was written in Russian. She held it up for Sir to see. “I don’t know what this is.”

He took the document and looked it over. A slow grin spread across his face. “It appears that Durov has given you the cabin by the lake.”

Brie took the paper back and crushed it to her chest. “I can’t believe he did that! When can we visit Russia again?”

Sir took the deed from her and folded it up carefully, stating, “Not for a quite a while, téa. Somebody has a documentary to introduce to the world.”

“Then this must be the first place we visit—after your grandmother’s, of course.”

“I concur,” he said agreeably.

Brie picked up a black envelope with her name neatly printed in silver. She found a photograph inside of a beautiful two-toned flogger of royal purple and black. On the back it read:

A gift crafted especially for you. Enjoy its character, pearl.

Sincerest regards, Marquis

“I wonder where it is,” she mused, realizing that he had been limited by what could be placed on her tray.

“I believe Marquis left a package behind when he left.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to feel it! Well, maybe I can. I love opening gifts too much,” Brie picked up another envelope. She found a wondrous variety of treasures within the cards, from a certificate for a designer leash from Captain to a weekend getaway compliments of Baron. Mr. Gallant had given her a formal dinner invitation, while Headmaster Coen had arranged a private play session for two at the newest club soon to open in Los Angeles. But Brie’s personal favorite was a small framed picture of Sir standing beside Mr. Reynolds and his wife. It had been taken the night of the collaring.

Master Anderson’s gift, however, tickled her because it had a humorous element:

Inside your Master’s car—on his seat, in fact—sits an indoor herb garden. This gift will benefit you in two ways, young Brie. Your Master can experience the tranquility of gardening, albeit on a smaller scale, and you can use the fruits of his labors to flavor your ever-improving culinary attempts.

Yours truly, Master Anderson

Brie snickered as she handed over the card for Sir to read.

The last one on the tray was from Mary. Brie was extremely curious as to what Mary would consider an appropriate gift.

This is my home phone number. I give you permission to call me, night or day. I don’t normally give it out, and never to women. Consider yourself privileged, bitch.

~Mary

Brie giggled, but understood how huge the gift was. Although she already had her cell phone number, giving Brie access to her home phone was the closest Mary had ever come to treating her like a real friend. She looked at Sir and smiled. “Mary gave me her number.”

“Good. I think it’s important you two keep in close contact, especially with the documentary coming out. You may need each other’s support.”

Brie put down the card and stared at him. “Do you really believe my work will be received badly, Sir?”

He played with a lock of her hair. “I believe that you will create polar reactions with it. Some will celebrate you for introducing them to the world of BDSM, while others will revile you for the debauchery you have unleashed on the world. Both reactions will be a challenge, and I want you surrounded by people who will keep you grounded. Miss Wilson is one such person.”

Brie realized the gift might not be as personal as she first thought. “Did you suggest that she give me her number, Sir?”

“No, Brie. The only influence I had was in reminding her of your unique journey together. It was her decision to come to the party, as well as the type of gift to bring.”

Brie kissed the phone number on the card. “It means a lot that I am the first girlfriend she’s ever given her number to. But I must admit I’m tempted to call her at all hours of the night, just to test her resolve.”

Sir frowned.

She kissed his downturned lips. “I’m just kidding, Sir. I would never be so immature.” She made a mental note not to joke about Mary around him, but she knew Lea would have totally thought that was funny.

Picking up the photo of Sir, Brie stared at his serious, but gorgeous face. “You look so handsome, Master. I love this picture because it captures that moment before you collared me. You had no idea what was headed your way that night.”

He took the photo from her and examined it critically.

Brie traced the outline of his face in the picture. “This is the look of a handsome condor, Sir. One about to claim his mate.”

He tickled her ribs, causing her to squeal and squirm. “Such a disobedient little thing she was, too. What the hell was I thinking?”

Condor Devotion

B
rie smiled as she listened to the sound of his steady heartbeat. With his arms wrapped around her, she was safe to revel in the afterglow of his lovemaking. These moments were a little taste of heaven on earth.

Sir stirred beneath her. “Let me get up to turn out the lights. Stay here.”

Brie’s heart started racing when he got up and left the room. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for. She headed directly for the closet and got on her tiptoes to reach for the thin wooden box.

She carried it out and laid it on the bedside table. Taking a deep breath, she undid the latch and opened the lid, then took out the branding iron. In a fluid motion, she turned and knelt facing the door, her head bowed and the iron rod held up in petition.

She bit her lip as she waited for Sir’s return, her heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings. There was no fear in the offer, simply the deep-seated need to be marked as Sir’s.

He entered the room and stopped in his tracks. “Téa.”

She looked up at him from her kneeling position and begged earnestly, “Please…”

He stepped forward and took the brand from her hands. “The pain will be significant, téa. This is not a simple tattoo and cannot be covered up later should you dislike the results.”

“I understand, Master.”

He knelt down beside her and placed the rod back in her hands. “I cannot guarantee how the brand will heal, or what it will look like afterwards. It may not be pretty.”

“Before I made any decisions, I googled it, Sir. I understand the risks.” She touched his cheek, which was rough with five o’clock shadow. “I
need
to feel your mark on my skin. I want it to hurt.”

“Why?”

She lowered her eyes, unsure if she could clearly explain the desire in her heart. “So that it counts. This brand will mark a profound point in my life…on my body and in my mind. A rite of passage. It will require both strength and courage to receive this brand of yours, but I’ve never wanted something as much.”

Brie felt so strongly that she couldn’t bear the thought of him denying her request, so she braved calling Sir by his given name. “Thane, my skin tingles with need of it; my soul cries out for it.”

His eyes flashed with an emotion she could not identify. He cleared his throat and said hoarsely, “You should know I will not be the one to do it. Master Coen is the only one I trust to brand you.”

She looked down to hide her smile, pleased her request had been granted.

Sir helped Brie to her feet. “This is as significant as a collaring, téa. I leave it up to you whether you want witnesses.”

Brie wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his chest. “Sir, I would like it to be just us, under the stars.”

He crushed her against him, but said nothing for several moments. Sir’s voice was gruff with emotion when he spoke again. “I will give you a week to reconsider, téa. The passion you feel now may lose its luster as the date approaches.”

“With all due respect, Sir, I don’t think that will happen.”

His fingers lightly caressed the small of her back—the area to be branded. His touch left her lightheaded and tingly all over. Brie sighed in contentment. “I love you, Master…”

The night of the branding, Brie felt nothing but peace. There was no question in her mind that this was what she wanted. She’d been curious as to whether the fear of the hot iron would deter her from going through with it, but the reality was that the pain was what attracted her to the act. It wasn’t a case of needing the pain for pain’s sake; it was the challenge it presented. She wanted to make a great sacrifice to Sir. Even though she was not a masochist, if the act wasn’t painful, it would cheapen the gift.

Brie felt akin to a Native American warrior as they drove out to meet Master Coen. She was out to prove her worth by way of a trial she had willingly accepted. It was both thrilling and terrifying.

Sir took her to a secluded beach under the stars where the muscle-bound Headmaster Coen stood waiting for them beside a fire ring with red hot coals.

Brie briefly glanced at the flames and saw the iron rod nestled in the coals. For the first time she felt a quiver of fear and found it strangely exhilarating.

“Good evening, Davis.” He nodded to Brie. “Miss Bennett.”

Sir held out his hand. “Thank you for coming tonight.”

“I am honored to be part of such a sacred event.”

“Yes, thank you, Headmaster Coen,” Brie echoed. “It eases my mind, as you and I have been through this once before.”

He chuckled lightly. “Unlike last time, Miss Bennett, there will be no mind-fuck. If you get cold feet, you have only to say the word up until the moment the hot iron touches your skin. After that point, I will be committed to giving you a proper brand.”