Hello
Brie was jolted back to reality when they lifted her and placed her on the operating table. The nurse reconnected her to all the monitors while Dr. Glas scrubbed up. When he returned, he checked the position of the baby and announced, “Her vitals are back to normal for now. We can try delivering her vaginally if you can push her out in the next few contractions.”
Brie felt a hand on her shoulder and felt a flood of relief when she looked up to see Sir dressed in scrubs. She was not alone, and that gave her the encouragement she needed to face this. She had been uniquely prepared for this moment, and she would not fail.
“I want to try,” she told him.
“Good,” Dr. Glas stated, explaining, “When the next contraction comes, I want you to push with everything you’ve got, and I don’t want you to stop until I tell you.”
Brie braced herself, readying for the greatest challenge of her life.
As soon as the contraction hit and Brie started pushing, the alarm started sounding again, letting her know her baby was in distress. She redoubled her efforts, roaring like a primal animal.
“That’s it, that’s it. I see the head. We’re almost there. Don’t stop!” Dr. Glas ordered.
From deep within, Brie harnessed the last of her strength, gritting her teeth and pushing with everything she had, knowing her daughter’s life hung in the balance. Another primal scream escaped her lips, with Sir’s words of encouragement filling her ears.
Brie’s whole body shook from sheer effort as she forced the baby out and her child slipped into the ready hands of the doctor.
Brie collapsed onto the bed immediately afterward, thoroughly spent. She felt Sir’s reassuring touch stroking her cheek. “Is she okay?” she croaked.
Instead of crying, which Brie was waiting to hear, there was only silence.
“Is something wrong?” Brie cried out.
“Nothing is wrong,” Dr. Glas assured her. “Your little girl seems to be quietly taking it all in.” Brie watched as he began rubbing her tiny back. Suddenly, the reassuring sound of her healthy cry filled the room.
Brie closed her eyes and let the tears fall as relief flooded through her. She opened them again when she felt Sir’s hand on her cheek. “Well done, little mama.”
Instead of placing the baby in Brie’s arms, the nurse took her from the doctor, whisked her away, and began quickly working on their child.
“Dr. Glas?” Brie questioned him, concerned.
He lowered his mask. “You did well, Mrs. Davis. She may be a wee one, but she is healthy. While my nurses take care of her, I’ll go ahead and stitch up your small tear.”
“Can’t I hold her?”
“Since she surprised us with an early arrival, it’s important we check her over first,” he explained. Putting the mask back on, he prepared to begin the procedure.
Before he began, Brie bravely voiced her request, “Could you make it a little tighter?”
“No,” Sir stated beside her. “Tighter would not be an improvement. I’d like you just the way you were.”
The doctor smiled behind the mask. “Spoken like a true gentleman.” Dr. Glas winked at Brie, assuring her, “I will do my best to restore you to your previous state, Mrs. Davis.”
Brie stared up at Sir, suddenly exhausted to the core of her being.
“I’m so proud of you, babygirl. You were amazing.”
Brie smiled, but then the tears started up when she imagined how hard this birth would have been if he had died in the plane crash.
Sir leaned down and whispered, “There’s no need to cry, my love. This is a happy day.”
Brie stared intently at the nurse’s back while she handled their baby. Once the doctor was done with Brie, he walked over to assess the child himself.
“A healthy girl at six pounds on the dot,” he announced.
The nurse turned around with the tiny baby in her arms. “Would you like to hold her now?”
“Please!” Brie begged.
Walking over to her, the nurse laid the baby on Brie’s chest.
She looked at her daughter in awe. Her skin was a warm olive tone, a testament to her father’s Italian heritage. Her soulful eyes also reminded Brie of Sir, but that pert little nose and arched lips came from Brie’s side of the family.
This little miracle was the perfect combination of the two of them. With tentative fingers, Brie caressed her soft head, covered in brown peach fuzz.
You’re perfect.
Brie smiled as tears of joy ran down her cheeks when her daughter squirmed, making cute little baby noises.
“Isn’t she perfect, Sir?”
“She certainly is,” he agreed with pride in his voice. Sir leaned down, inches from her tiny face, and smiled at his daughter. “Welcome to the world, little one. I have been waiting a long time to meet you.”
The nurse apologized, informing them, “We need to monitor her due to the early delivery.”
Brie gave Sir a worried look.
The nurse noticed and smiled reassuringly at Brie. “Your daughter appears to be doing fine. If her vitals remain good, we’ll bring her to your room so you can begin feeding her.”
Brie gave her daughter one last kiss before relinquishing her to the nurse. She watched as the tiny bundle that had just become her whole world was whisked away.
Sir leaned down and whispered huskily, “Mrs. Davis, it appears you make beautiful babies.”
Brie smiled up at him. “We make beautiful babies.”
She was wheeled into a recovery room where Rytsar was waiting for them.
“The babe?” he asked with concern as soon as he saw her.
“She’s healthy, but they are monitoring her now to make sure everything’s okay because she was early,” Brie told him.
Sir clasped Rytsar’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you could not be there.”
“The only thing that matters is that moye solntse is well.”
“She is,” Brie assured him.
“Are you, radost moya?”
“I am now, but it was so scary, Rytsar.”
He nodded, a pained expression on his face. “I thought I would go mad, waiting to hear news of you both.”
“She is safe and Brie is well, brother. There is reason to celebrate,”
Brie reached out to Rytsar, and he took her hand, kissing it gently. “If I were healed enough, I would be doing the Cossack dance in celebration right now.”
“Oh goodness, no!” Brie laughed, a vision of Rytsar doing the strenuous Russian dance in the recovery room flashing through her mind. “You must rest.”
Rytsar stared at her as if he was trying to convince himself she was really there. It was easy to tell he was still a bundle of nerves after being left behind.
“Are you doing okay?” Sir asked when Rytsar started pacing.
Rytsar stopped and stared at them both. After several moments, he confessed, “I am anxious to hold her.”
“Soon, brother.”
After Brie was released from recovery, the three of them waited impatiently for her daughter’s return. They sat in the private hospital room, counting the minutes. To pass the time, Rytsar began reminiscing about Brie’s first visit to Russia.
Brie shook her head, laughing when he brought it up. “I remember how shocked I was when I found out you were a sadist.”
“I don’t think she actually believed me until we visited your dungeon,” Sir told him.
Brie’s eyes widened, thinking back on it. “Oh, that was a real education.”
Rytsar looked at Brie with a wicked smile. “That trip was the first time you experienced my nines.”
“And that was a humbling experience,” Brie confessed, remembering just how little she could take of the leather whip. “I sure was quick to use my safeword.”
“Da, you were,” Rytsar agreed, “but you were courageous enough to try. I knew I would win you over eventually.”
“Your nines still scare me, Rytsar.”
“As they should,” he said with a smirk.
A shiver went through her just thinking about his nines. She glanced at Sir and smiled. “I remember scening with you in front of his Russian colleagues. Now, that was intimidating, but delicious fun…”
“You made me proud that night, babygirl,” Sir told her.
Brie remembered how scared she’d been to scene in front of Rytsar’s BDSM friends, all well-respected Doms who had come to watch the Americans scene together. Even though she had still been relatively new to submission at the time, Sir had artfully guided her through that scene, and even surprised her with fire play at the end.
“That’s not all I remember about that first trip,” Rytsar growled.
Brie sighed happily, remembering the snowy cabin. That was where they’d had their first encounter as a threesome. Memories of that scene still made her hot to this day. “I will always cherish our time at your cabin in Russia.”
“You mean your cabin,” Rytsar corrected.
Brie giggled. “Oh, yes. My special birthday gift from you.”
“That cabin holds many good memories,” Sir agreed huskily.
“So many memories…” Brie echoed.
“We should visit there and make more,” Rytsar suggested.
“And I can show off the swing set you bought for our little girl.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I have added to it since.”
Brie shook her head in amusement.
“Did I not tell you I would be the best dyadya in the world? I mean to live up to that claim.”
“It was that swing set that started the whole discussion that led to this day,” Sir stated.
Brie nodded, realizing that Sir was right. Rytsar’s desire to be an uncle had prodded him to discuss the possibility of children with Brie. In a sense, that simple swing set had changed all their lives.
When the nurse walked into the room, they became silent, all eyes on the baby she carried in her arms.
“It’s time for her first feeding,” she told them, smiling at Brie.
Rytsar’s eyes were riveted on the child as the nurse walked past him, and he said in awe, “She is so krasivaya…”
Sir leaned down and whispered in Brie’s ear. “Do you mind if I make the formal introduction now?”
“Please, Sir,” Brie answered, smiling over at Rytsar.
Sir gently took the child from the nurse’s arms and said, “Please give us a moment.”
He stared down at his little girl as he cradled her in his arms. The tiny baby looked up into his eyes, transfixed by her father’s gaze. “I will protect and love you all the days of my life. It is my solemn vow to you as your father.” Sir kissed her lightly on the forehead, and then walked over to Rytsar.
The burly Russian already had his arms out to receive her.
“Anton Durov,” Sir said in a formal voice. “I would like to introduce you to Hope Antonia Davis.”
Rytsar looked at him in surprise. “She carries my name?”
“We wanted you to be a part of her,” Brie told him from the bed.
Rytsar shook his head, almost losing himself to the emotions coursing through him. He closed his eyes and steeled his jaw, visibly struggling to rein them back in.
Sir waited patiently, keenly aware of how important this moment was to his friend.
When Rytsar was ready, he opened his eyes and smiled at Brie. “Thank you, radost moya. I am truly honored.”
He held out his arms again, and Sir carefully placed the tiny infant in his muscular embrace.
“Hello, moya solntse,” he said in a soothing voice, grinning down at her. “May I have this dance with you?”
Cradling her tiny form against his chest, Rytsar began to sway to a tune only he could hear as he moved slowly in a circle.
Brie had to hold back the tears as she watched Rytsar keep his promise to her.
Sir returned to Brie’s side and took her hand, squeezing it tightly as they both watched.
Rytsar looked down at Hope while he danced, stating with wonder in his voice, “I knew you would be beautiful…but you take your dyadya’s breath away.”