Chapter 24
Mikhail carried Anastasia to her bedroom. The rest of the night passed torturously.
Anastasia had never had her magic bound, and it was slowly pushing her towards insanity. She couldn’t breathe or think straight; it was like trying to walk on a broken leg.
She was a ball of pent-up energy, sweat sticking to her forehead as she fought the warring sensations within her. It started as a growing pain, settling in her wrists, spreading down her arms as the pain evolved into a torturous heat.
By dawn, her arms were on fire, and her face was flushed red as if from a fever. She stripped down to a nightgown, but even that was too much. Everything was too hot and cumbersome.
Mikhail’s hands shook as he touched Anastasia. He sat next to her all through the night, attempting to calm her down and keep her attention on anything but the ancient iron. It looked grotesque wrapped around her delicate wrists.
He made the mistake of stepping out to get water once, only to return and find Anastasia’s fingers nearly bloody, trying to claw the chains off. He dropped the glass, sending shards everywhere, and leaped over the bed to get to her. She collapsed into his chest with a scream.
As sunlight began to seep into the bedroom, Mikhail didn’t know how they would survive the rest of the day.
He didn’t know how they were going to answer the tsar’s ultimatum.
He was preoccupied with making Anastasia comfortable, racking his mind for something to shift her focus.
She was sitting in his lap, her eyes vacant and her cheeks flushed.
Mikhail pressed soft kisses to her hairline and paused. His lips hovered above her, paying close attention as he leaned down and kissed her again. He went slower this time. Mikhail let his touch graze over skin, watching as Anastasia’s attention shifted, ignoring the pain for a brief second.
Oh.
Mikhail had an idea. He sat up a little straighter, debating the insanity of it. They were out of options, and he’d try anything.
He gently maneuvered Anastasia and lay her down on the bed. Her eyes flickered open as she looked at him, confused. He swung a leg over her and straddled her hips. Her eyes grew wider as the implications settled over her. Impossibly, she flushed a little deeper.
“Malyshka…,” Mikhail leaned down, bracing himself on the wall with one arm as he came close to her face. “Do you trust me?”
Anastasia said nothing. For once, she nodded quickly, without any hesitation. That was enough of an encouragement for Mikhail to keep going.
He nodded, sitting back up. He kept all his weight on his knees, preventing Anastasia from getting any friction as she writhed underneath him.
“Okay,” he nodded, “The moment you say so, this stops. Tell me you understand.”
His voice deepened, vibrating, making Anastasia quiver. Her thoughts were quickly spiraling and turning away from the ache of her missing magic. Anastasia bit her lip, nodding her head.
“Say it out loud.”
“I understand.”
Mikhail grinned, leaning into the opportunity in front of them. He sat up a little taller, grabbed his shirt, and tugged it off. Anastasia’s breath quickened; the sight of him on top of her, but so far from where she needed him now, elevated her pulse for different reasons.
The empty feeling consuming her was now wholly focused on her core. She rubbed her thighs together, distracted. Mikhail gripped her hip, pinning her waist to the bed while he shook his head.
“No,” he chided, a smirk sliding onto his face, “I tell you when to move. You’re going to take whatever I give you, isn’t that right?” Anastasia let out a wicked moan, all her frustration officially focused elsewhere.
“Yes,” it was a breathy, relieved sound that went straight to Mikhail’s cock. He stopped, slowly trailing his eyes down her entire body; a gaze so hot Anastasia swore that she could feel it. He reached up and tightened the bun in his hair, giving her a wink.
With a shocking tenderness for a man so large and as turned on as he was, he picked up Anastasia’s bound wrists. He brought her hands to his face, making her sit up a little and rub against him. Anastasia released another uncontrollable whimper when she brushed against his erection.
“Please,” her voice was desperate, “I need you. I need…” She was cut off as Mikhail licked one of her fingers. He sucked it into his mouth, his wicked tongue tracing it until Anastasia was rocking her hips against him, already close to coming.
“I’ll give you exactly what you need,” Mikhail grinned, pulling her finger out of his mouth and licking a hot trace around the manacles.
Anastasia shuddered, and Mikhail grinned, pulling away. He wrapped an arm around her back and lowered her onto the bed. He was still straddling her hips, sitting up, and grabbing the irons.
“Look at me, Anya,” he growled. Anastasia’s gaze snapped to him, and she nearly cried. He was undeniably male and so fucking big. He was so much larger than she, especially when she was underneath him like this.
“Good girl,” he grinned again, his smile feral, “We’re just going to distract you a little bit, da?”
Anastasia nodded eagerly, her breath escalating and all her thoughts focused on the pulsing heat between her legs.
Mikhail grabbed the chain holding her wrists together and looped it over a rod in the headboard. It stretched Anastasia’s arms above her head, making her back arch into Mikhail’s chest. He chuckled darkly, and Anastasia’s body broke out in chills.
“Mikhail,” she begged, her voice sounding utterly wrecked, “Please.”
Mikhail looked at her with a wicked light in his eyes. “What do you want me to do? I feel like taking my time. You aren’t going anywhere, are you?”
He cocked his head to the side and winked at her, biting his lip at the sight of her nipples hardening under the smolder of his gaze. He got out of bed, and Anastasia thought she was going to start crying again.
Without her legs pinned together by his knees, she took the opportunity to rub her thighs together, trying for any friction she could get. Anastasia’s hands tugged at the shackles around her wrist, and before long, she found herself moaning every time she pulled on them.
Mikhail nearly came at the sight of her, flushed and bound and begging for him to touch her. He moved around to the foot of the bed, stepping out of his pants. He was as hard as he’d ever been, fighting the temptation to jump on top of Anastasia and pull her onto him.
“Look at me,” he commanded again, his voice hard and demanding.
Anastasia blinked her eyes open and let out another devastating sound. Her mouth dropped open, and she was panting at the sight of him. Mikhail was naked and hard at the side of the bed, his hand dropped down to fist his cock.
“Blyat,” Anastasia cursed, trying and failing to keep her hips from bucking wildly at the sight of him.
“Do you see something you like, Anya? Do you want to touch me?” He grinned again, slowly beginning to work himself over, pumping his hard-on and letting his head drop back at the sensation.
Anastasia was nearly undone at the sight alone, fighting against the shackles as she watched Mikhail touch himself.
“Yes,” she begged, completely giving herself over to desire, “Yes, yes, please — please touch me!”
The ‘please’ that did Mikhail in, picking his head up and letting go of himself. He was on top of Anastasia in second, and she let out a strangled cry at how good he felt.
Her mind was far away from her magic. She couldn’t focus on anything other than the now delicious burn of the restraints. Mikhail’s weight was on top of her, the feeling of his skin hot and nearly burning through the shift she was wearing.
Mikhail sat up for, and Anastasia cried out in frustration, grabbing her nightgown and tearing it in a surprising show of strength.
He lay back on top of her, Anastasia driving her hips up and relishing in the delicious grind of him, the friction blissful against her aching center. Fuck, it wasn’t enough.
Mikhail sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, making Anastasia’s eyes roll back. She was so strung out; only a few more touches would finish her off.
He bit her breast hard, making her stretch and pull at the shackles as his tongue soothed the sting a heartbeat later. He moved to her other breast, but Anastasia was shaking her head.
“No, no, no,” she complained, “Touch me, you bastard, or I swear to — oh!”
She was cut off with a gasp as Mikhail found her center, cursing at how she was already dripping all over his hand.
He slid two fingers into her without pause, sinking into the knuckle while Anastasia made a possessed sound.
Mikhail growled in satisfaction, thrilled that his insane plan was working.
He curled his fingers up as his thumb found her clit, making devastatingly slow circles as Anastasia began to ride his hand. He slipped in a third finger inside, leaving soft kisses all over her waist as he studied her face.
He kept a close watch on her expression, making sure that as she got further lost with every second, she stayed present and distracted. At the slightest note of her discomfort, he was ready to stop.
Mikhail kept going, moving his fingers in wicked ways until Anastasia’s whole body nearly came off the bed with the force of her orgasm.
She let out a strangled cry, her release soaking his fingers and tightening around them.
He didn’t stop moving his fingers, murmuring sweet things against her hip bone.
“That’s a good girl, sweet Anya,” he murmured, leaning down to clean her up with his tongue. “You’re so pretty when you come for me, malyshka.” He looked up at her, finding her head lolled to the side, trying to catch her breath. She was still flushed, her eyes still too wild.
“You’re gonna give me one more,” Mikhail commanded her, his kisses at her hip turning into bites. Anastasia merely nodded, her head falling back on the pillows.
Mikhail was about to break out of his skin with the desire to be inside of her. He slowly moved up her body, his hot mouth pressing kisses and licking up her stomach… her breasts… her neck… biting at her jaw and finally capturing her mouth in a devastating embrace.
One arm wrapped around her back, the other slapping against the wall as he braced himself.
“Lift your hips for me,” he smirked, and Anastasia obliged. She wrapped a leg around his waist and pulled him down to her, dictating exactly what she needed.
Mikhail was poised at her core, feeling the heat emanating off her. He pressed the head up to her entrance, making Anastasia groan with frustration.
“Mikhail, if you don’t fucking move!”
Mikhail laughed and thrust inside of her in one movement. He was completely enveloped in her heat to the hilt, groaning at the feeling of her around him.
They were both extremely worked up, Anastasia already on the cusp of her second orgasm, and Mikhail ready to burst. He began thrusting wildly, watching Anastasia’s eyes the whole time.
As they fluttered close in bliss, he picked up his pace, knowing she was on edge.
He found a devastating, steady rhythm that took Anastasia’s breath away.
He leaned in, pressing their sweaty bodies together, whispering in her ear.
“You take me so well, malyshka,” he growled, biting the shell of her ear, “Every last bit of my cock.”
Anastasia moaned, turning her head away from him for a moment as if she couldn’t handle how hot his words made her.
She pulled against the restraints, her whole body flushing at the delicious friction it gave her.
She was utterly at Mikhail’s mercy, and it only fueled her fire.
Anastasia was so turned on she couldn’t speak, the first orgasm doing nothing to take the edge off.
His massive body pinned her underneath him, not even able to touch him in return.
Mikhail began tracing circles against her clit again, urging her towards another release. Almost as soon as he touched her, she exploded, dropping her head back as she pulled against the manacles. Her legs wrapped even tighter around Mikhail, anchoring him to her as she rode out her orgasm.
He groaned, dipping his head to the crook of her shoulder as she fluttered around him. He kept fucking her through the last throes of her orgasm before he finished with a shout, slamming his fist against the wall above them.
They collapsed in total silence, recovering. After a few minutes, Mikhail picked his head up and looked at Anastasia, only to find that her breath had evened out, and she was already fast asleep.
Mikhail’s eyes widened in surprise, genuinely excited and thrilled that his plan had worked. He slowly pulled out from her, eliciting only the smallest of noises from Anastasia, detangling himself from her very gently. He didn’t want to disturb her any further now that she’d managed to fall asleep.
Mikhail stood up, went to the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and came back to bed. Anastasia hadn’t moved, her face now a pleasant blush instead of the sickly traces of fever she’d had earlier.
He cleaned them both up before reaching for the shackles. He detangled them from the headboard and made sure Anastasia was comfortable. He didn’t want her to wake up cramped and sore from having fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position.
He slowly slid into bed next to her, daybreak now streaming through the window.
They still had the tsar’s ultimatum to deal with.
This was far from over. Her magic was still bound.
But Anastasia was sleeping, finally, with a well-fucked expression that made a primal part of Mikhail’s chest swell up.
He kissed her, unable to help himself, a soft graze of his lips against hers. He smiled when she barely stirred. Mikhail stretched out his legs, flipping over on his back and gently bringing Anastasia’s head to rest on his chest.
Selfishly, he wanted to feel her body next to his as they came down.
There would be enough to deal with when they woke up, but the important part was that they would wake up. She could sleep. There was no fear in her eyes anymore, and she had been well and thoroughly distracted.