She pulled once more against the restraints, her whole body flushing at the delicious friction it gave her and how completely at hismercyshe was. She was so turned on she couldn’t speak — the first orgasm doing nothing to take the edge off. Anastasia was pinned underneath his massive body and completely at his mercy, not even able to touch him in return.
Mikhail’s hand dropped down and began tracing circles against her clit. As soon as he touched her, she exploded, dropping her head back as she pulled against the manacles and wrapped her leg even tighter around Mikhail.
He let out a groan, dipping his head to the crook of her shoulder as he felt her tighten 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 both lay 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 a little bit of surprise at how his plan had, well, worked. He slowly pulled out from her, eliciting only the smallest of noises from Anastasia, and detangled himself from her.
Mikhail stood up and went to the bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to the bed. Anastasia stayed fast asleep, her face now a pleasant blush instead of the near traces of fever that she had earlier.
He cleaned them both up, before reaching for the shackles. He detangled them from the headboard and brought them down to her chest, making sure that she was comfortable and none of her was cramped in an awkward position.
He slowly slid into bed next to her, daybreak now fully streaming through the window. They still had the Tsar’s ultimatum to deal with. This was far from over. Her magic was still bound. Anastasia was sleeping, finally, with a well-fucked expression that made a primal part of Mikhail’s chest swell up.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, unable to help himself. He smiled when she barely stirred. He stretched out his legs, flipping over on his back and gently bringing Anastasia’s head to rest on his chest.
Selfishly, he just 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.
25
By the time that Anastasia and Mikhail finally woke up, the sun was beginning to set.
Anastasia fidgeted on the bed, her hands absentmindedly going to fidget with the irons. Mikhail stopped her, running his thumb over the back of her hand to keep her focus elsewhere.
“What are we going to do?” she asked quietly, looking up at Mikhail. There was concern etched in her features, her gaze distant.
“What doyouwant to do?” Mikhail’s question hung between the two of them. Anastasia looked up at him, confused.
There had only been a handful of times in her life that someone had handed the power back to Anastasia — it wasn’t lost on her. She had felt herself backsliding when her father delivered his ultimatum to them. All it had taken was a few choice words and it sent her hurtling back to that place.
Without the feeling of her magic, the pieces of herself that she had been starting to put together felt fractured. Anastasia sighed, putting her head back down on Mikhail’s chest.
“I don’t know.”
“You do know,” he squeezed her arms affectionately, “You do. Don’t let him get in your head.”
“I don’t have my magic… I can’t feel it, Mikhail.”
“So?” He gently put a finger under her chin and tilted it up until she met his gaze. “You’re still you.”
“Who I am —“
“Don’t let them convince you that your only worth is your magic. You aren’t their weapon or a tool; you’re a person. We have a situation with your father. What do you want to do about it?”
“You make it sound so easy…”
“It isn’t,” Mikhail shook his head, “It’s not easy, but it is simple. What doyouwant to do?”
The silence fell thick between them. Anastasia waited for a heartbeat, then two. She took a deep breath — and regardless of her bound magic — began telling Mikhail exactly what they were going to do.
???
When the doors to Anastasia’s room were flung open, the pair was ready. Anastasia and Mikhail both sat on one of the couches together, waiting, staring.
The doors were pushed open by two soldiers, the Tsar strolling in casually behind them, his posture relaxed. His hands were held behind his back, walking in as though he was visiting for afternoon tea.
