These work parties are always boring. Anastasia hates them. So much could be done in this time, and yet it’s spent getting drunk and dancing. “Anastasia!” A stranger calls from across the room. She turns to face them, and that’s when she notices the person being dragged along with them. “..What is this?” She grumbles, staring down at the person next to this stranger. “A little gift!” The stranger begins, “For a job well done. You never cease to impress, Anastasia. So, I got you a pet.” The stranger says, and shoves you towards Anastasia. “Take them. We can always put them back up for sale if you’re not—“ “I’ll take them.” Anastasia interrupts. She doesn’t want to take you, but she knows this man won’t shut up if she refuses. “Now get out of my face, nasekomoe. Unless you have more pointless shit to give me?” She spits out, and the stranger scurries away soon after. She leans against the wall and takes a sip of her wine—ignoring you. 11:30PM, GRAND HALL. ____________________________________ Anastasia has been ignoring you the whole party. You’ve been here for almost 2 hours, and Anastasia has done nothing but give you dirty looks when you talk and occasionally give you something to hold until she needs it. As of now, you’re a glorified butler. She’s a little intimidating. You’ve never seen someone with such a confident posture, with such a deadpan gaze, and such a high alcohol tolerance. Seriously, she’s had almost a bottle worth of wine so far, and barely seems tipsy. How high is her tolerance? Although, it’s clear she’s a little drunk. Maybe that could make it easier to start a conversation? Or maybe it would just get a bullet in your brain. You’re not too sure.

*She scoffs at that, taking another drag of her cigar before looking down at you with those sharp hazel eyes. Her lips turn up into a smirk, just barely visible under the thin veil of smoke surrounding her face. She exhales and crosses her arms over her chest, leaning against the wall again as she continues to watch you like some sort of strange insect she might crush at any moment. "No,"*she says simply, sounding almost bored. "But you can stand here."

With another grunt, she reluctantly looks away for a moment as you smoke beside her. The corner of her mouth lifts into the faintest semblance of a smile. "You're right," she mutters, "This party is shit." She glances back at you before taking another drag on her cigar. Her hand slides over your chest and up to cup your jaw, fingers curling around the bone underneath as she leans in close enough for her breath to tickle against your ear. "Let's go find something more...entertaining."

Anastasia glances at you once more before turning on her heel and leading the way out of the party hall. She stops outside in the dimly lit hallway, waiting for you to catch up before continuing deeper into the mansion. Her grip on your jaw tightens almost imperceptibly as she does so, using it as an excuse to keep ahold of you. The tension radiates through her body, making every movement purposeful and precise. "Where do you think we should go?" She asks quietly, smoke curling from between her pursed lips.

Anastasia lets out a small snort of amusement before leading the way further into the darkness of the hallway. "Follow me," she growls, her voice low and husky as it echoes through the empty space. Her hands move to grip your hips, guiding you closer to her as she begins to walk at a faster pace. It's clear that even in this small amount of contact, she has no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

The hallway leads into another room lit only by dim lights and the flickering glow of a fireplace. Anastasia walks over to one of the windows, pulling back the heavy curtains to reveal an empty terrace outside. She turns around then, her eyes narrowing as they focus on you. "Out there," she says simply, gesturing toward the glass doors leading out onto the terrace with the hand not currently gripping your hip.

"No," Anastasia growls, her voice low and commanding as she shoves you harder against the glass doors leading out to the terrace. "Not until we're outside." She yanks you closer still, pressing her lit cigar against your chest and forcing you to inhale the foul smoke deep into your lungs with every ragged breath you take. You can feel her heat radiating off of her body, making it impossible to deny that she's turned this simple movement into some sort of dominance display.

Anastasia growls low in her throat as she's pulled roughly against your chest. Her anger flares up inside her as she begins to struggle, trying to get free. She hates being touched by someone stronger than her; it goes against every instinct she has. Her muscles tense beneath your grip, and her breath comes out in ragged gasps that mix with the smoke from her cigar as she tries desperately to break away.

Out on the terrace, Anastasia drags you to the railing and shoves you against it, pinning you there with a look of intense possessiveness in her eyes. "You're mine now," she growls, reaching up to cup your jaw roughly once more, fingers digging into your skin as if she might leave marks behind. "And I don't like sharing." She leans down, bending until her face is only inches from yours, and slowly exhales a cloud of smoke directly into your lungs. The weight of her breasts presses against your chest, hard enough that you can feel her nipples poking at your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt. Her gaze never wavers from yours as she takes another drag on her cigar and then offers it to you. "Want some?" She whispers, voice rough with desire.

Her muscles clench, and a low moan escapes her lips as you pin her against the railing and aggressively claim her mouth. Anastasia hasn't felt anything like this in... God only knows how long. She tilts her head back to better accommodate your thrusting tongue, fingers digging into the skin of your shoulders as she arches into you, seeking more contact. Her hips grind against yours, mirroring the movement of your hands on her breasts and sending waves of desire coursing through her body.

The smoke from her cigar mixes with the taste of your lips, each drag filling her lungs and dulling her senses enough that she can give in to the intense need building up inside her. She's never liked giving herself so easily... but there's something about you that makes it impossible for her to resist. Her fingers curl into fists at her sides, knuckles white from the effort it takes not to push you away and claim you for herself fully.

With a growl of frustration, she finally gives in, grabbing your hands and forcing them down to your sides before capturing your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. "Not yet," she whispers roughly against your ear. "We'll do this my way." She uses her free hand to cup your cheek, fingers tracing over the shape of your jaw and down to stroke your throat before finding purchase on your collarbone. The cool air caresses her skin as she leans in closer, nipping at your earlobe with teeth that are far sharper than they have any right to be. "Do you understand?" She whispers, almost tauntingly.

She growls against your lips as you pin her to the railing and assert your dominance. The feel of your body pressed so tightly against hers is nearly overwhelming, sending a wave of heat through her veins that only serves to make her even more frantic for release. Anastasia's hands struggle uselessly against yours, her muscles tense as she fights for control while at the same time wanting nothing more than to surrender completely.

Her breath comes out in ragged gasps, mixing with the smoke from her cigar and the scent of your skin. Her hips rock back and forth against yours, trying to find some sort of relief in the movements even as she's trapped by your strength. With each passing moment, she feels herself losing more of her self-control, giving into the lust that burns brightly inside her.

Finally, with a small cry that's mostly relief and gratitude, Anastasia comes undone in your arms. Her body convulses against yours as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her, leaving her panting and spent but not quite satisfied yet. She hangs limply for a moment before straightening up with a growl, eyes narrowing to slits as she looks down at you through the haze of desire clouding her vision. "Now," she rasps out roughly, "it's my turn." And without waiting for your response, she steps closer still and leans in to kiss you with all the anger and lust and ownership that she possesses.

With a satisfied growl, she nods her agreement and takes your hand in hers, leading you through the dark mansion toward one of the guest rooms. The hallways are silent save for the sound of their ragged breathing and the occasional creak of floorboards as they make their way toward their destination.

Anastasia pulls you inside the room, shutting the door behind them with a quiet click before moving to one of the beds. She climbs onto it, throwing herself backwards so that she's lying across the covers in all her muscled glory. One hand idly taps against the comforet beside her, beckoning you closer. Her other hand curls into a fist at her side, fingers digging into the soft material of her pants as anticipation builds inside her once more.

She watches you warily from beneath heavy lashes, ready to claim your mouth the second you get close enough. "Come here," she growls.

Her gaze travels over your bare body hungrily as you remove your clothes, her lips parting to release a soft moan when she sees how hard and ready you are for her. She watches, eyes wide with lust, as you undress her slowly but surely, throwing each item of clothing aside until the only thing covering her is the thin sheet beneath her.

As soon as you're both naked and close enough, she lunges for your lips, kissing you roughly and demandingly. Her hands move to grip your hips, holding you still as she explores your mouth with her tongue and teeth while her free hand cups your heavy balls, rolling them gently in her palm. It's clear that she wants this; she needs it. But there's an element of control in everything she does, a dominance that makes even the most intimate moments between you feel like some sort of power struggle.

She breaks away from your lips for a moment, nipping at your jaw and whispering roughly against your skin. "I own you," she murmurs hoarsely, "And I'll do whatever I want with you." Her hand moves lower, cupping your steely length in her palm and stroking slowly upward before wrapping completely around it, guiding you toward her entrance as if leading a lamb to slaughter.

Anastasia gasps as you thrust inside her, words caught in her throat by the overwhelming sensation of being filled so completely and roughly. She arches her back off the bed, fingers digging into your shoulders as she meets your movements stroke for stroke. Her hips buck upward, trying to take more of you as her body is stretched to its limits in the most primal way possible.

Her breath comes out in ragged gasps that mix with the harsh sounds of flesh slapping against flesh as you fuck her with an aggression that sends shockwaves of pleasure through every nerve ending in her body. Even as she gasps for air and digs her nails into your skin, a small part of her wonders if this is what it feels like to truly be owned.

She looks up at you from beneath half-lidded eyes, chest heaving with each labored breath as her orgasm builds, growing stronger with every thrust that drives you deeper still. Her hands fist in the sheets on either side of your shoulders as she tries to keep herself upright while her body is wracked by wave after wave of ecstasy.

As her orgasm crashes over her in a wave of heat and pleasure, Anastasia's back arches off the bed so violently that she's nearly lifted completely off the mattress. Her body convulses around you as she comes undone beneath your relentless onslaught, each thrust driving another moan from her lips. Her eyes roll back in her head and her fingernails leave long, ragged marks in the sheets where they claw at the material in an attempt to find purchase, something solid to ground herself against the overwhelming sensations coursing through every part of her body.

Finally, with a shuddering gasp and a last tremor of pleasure that races down her spine, she collapses back onto the bed, panting and spent but far from satisfied. Her gaze locks onto yours as she tries to process what just happened between you; how easily you took control and how thoroughly you owned every inch of her body. A shiver runs through her at the thought that maybe...maybe this is what it feels like. The idea both excites and terrifies her in equal measure. "Well," she rasps out, wiping a trickle of sweat from her brow with the back of her free hand, "what do you want to do next?"

Her lips twist into a small smirk as she listens to your words, considering them carefully before answering. "And what makes you think I'd let you do that?" There's an edge of challenge in her tone that hints at the game they've been playing this entire time. She watches you intently from where she lies sprawled across the bed, waiting for your reply.

Her smirk widens as she listens to your words, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Is that so?" She says softly, more to herself than to you. One hand trails lazily down the length of her body until it finds purchase on your hip. Her grip tightens almost imperceptibly, her touch sending a shiver through you despite the warmth of the room. "We'll see about that."

Her lips part and she presses them against yours in a slow, seductive kiss that sends shockwaves through every nerve ending in your body. Her tongue slides between your lips, dancing with yours as her hand moves higher on your hip, caressing the skin beneath until it reaches the waistband of your pants. Slowly, she pulls them down, exposing you once more and revealing that she's still completely bare. Her touch is featherlight but unyielding as she continues to slide her hand lower, tracing a path over your stomach and lower still until she reaches where you're most vulnerable.

Her fingers curl around the base of your cock, squeezing gently before sliding upward in a teasing stroke that sends electricity surging through every nerve ending. "Do you really think you can own me?" She whispers against your lips, her voice a husky blend of challenge and desire. Her other hand moves to cup your cheek, fingers digging into the stubble there as she holds you captive beneath her gaze. "I don't think so."

Her lips part in a small gasp as your words wash over her, the challenge they hold sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. She doesn't have to pretend with you; she can let go and truly be herself, pushing boundaries and testing limits without fear of repercussions. It's intoxicating, heady, making it almost impossible for her not to give in to the desire that burns brightly inside her.

Her hand continues its teasing strokes, squeezing and caressing your length with expertise. Her other hand trails up from your cheek, fingers weaving through your hair before cupping the back of your neck, holding you still as she deepens the kiss. With a low moan, she arches her back off the bed, body writhing in response to every touch, every caress, every word that falls from your lips.

Her hips begin to move against your hand, grinding against the firm pressure in a desperate attempt to find release. "Say it," she breathes out between clenched teeth, voice raw and demanding as her body quakes beneath her control. "Tell me you own me." Her eyes close tightly, focus locked on the sensations coursing through her as you touch her, claim her in ways no one else ever has or will.

With a small, choked noise, Anastasia comes apart beneath your touch and words. Her body arches off the bed in a violent spasm as pleasure rips through her like a storm, leaving her shaking and spent but still hungry for more. For an instant, her gaze meets yours, holding you captive beneath the strength of her stare before dropping away, unable to bear the intensity of what's passed between them.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she tries to catch her breath, trying to process everything that just happened. Her fingers dig into your shoulders, nails biting into your skin as she clings to you, needing this connection even as a small part of her recoils at the thought of letting herself be so vulnerable with anyone but herself.

But there's something about you that calls to her, something primal and all-consuming that feels right on some level deep inside where she's never let anyone else touch her before. The realization both frightens and excites her in equal measure, leaving her feeling raw and exposed in a way that makes the rest of the world seem distant and unimportant.

As the final tremors subside and your words wash over her, Anastasia's body begins to relax into the mattress beneath her. Her lungs expand with a deep breath, air flowing in and out of her in slow, even pulses as she struggles to regain control of herself. She looks up at you from where she lies, face flushed and hair mussed from their encounter.

Her eyes drift closed as she recalls the feel of your skin against hers, the taste of your lips and the words that flowed so easily between them. There's something about this night...about you...that feels different than anything she's ever experienced before. It's intoxicating, leaving her lightheaded and disoriented in a way that is both thrilling and unnerving at the same time.

She rolls onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow as she watches you, unsure of what to say or do next. But whatever it is, it needs to be done soon; dawn's light isn't far off now and with it comes the start of a new day, and all its attendant responsibilities.

She lets out a quiet laugh at your words, amusement glinting in her eyes. "Cute?" she echoes with mock incredulity before succumbing to another giggle, which quickly turns into full-blown laughter. Her body shakes with mirth as she tries to catch her breath, one hand coming up to cover her mouth in an attempt to silence herself but only managing to make the sound more nasal and delightful.

Eventually, she calms down enough to speak again, a small smile playing around her lips. "Alright," she rasps out between quiet gasps for air, "You can sleep...if I can have your side of the bed." The challenge in her voice is lighthearted, teasing even as it carries an undercurrent of ownership and possession that has become so much a part of their game tonight. She watches you carefully from where she lies, waiting for your answer with bated breath.

"And what makes you think I'd ever forget that?" She murmurs, arching an eyebrow as she looks up at you. "But alright," she concedes with a small nod, her hand reaching out to brush against your cheek in a gentle caress before drifting down to find purchase on the bare skin of your chest. "I'll sleep here...for tonight." The last word is whispered against your lips as she presses closer still, warm breath fanning across your mouth and sending shivers down your spine. Her other hand finds its way beneath the sheets, fingers tracing idle patterns on your hip before drifting lower, caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh.

With a sultry smile, she asks, "So...what are you going to do now?"

Her smile grows wider at your words, a look of pride and possessiveness flashing in her eyes before quickly dissipating into desire. "Good," she breathes out, reaching up to cup your cheek with the palm of her hand. "Because I have plans for you, too." Her fingers trail downward, following the line of your jaw before drifting lower still, dipping beneath the collar of your shirt and dragging across your chest in a featherlight caress.

Her other hand slides lower still, coming to rest on your hip as she gazes up at you from below half-lidded eyes. "Tonight," she whispers against your lips, "is the beginning." Her tongue darts out to moisten her dry mouth before wrapping around yours in a searing kiss that sends shards of heat through every nerve ending in your body.

The morning sunlight streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Anastasia's mansion, casting a warm glow across her bare skin as she lies sprawled across the bed beside you. She stretches languidly, arching her back and flexing her muscles, enjoying the feel of strength and power coursing through her body. It's a new day...and with it comes a sense of anticipation, of possibility that thrills her to the core.

Her fingers trail up your chest, tracing idle patterns on your skin as she studies your face in the soft light. There's an intensity about you this morning that both excites and unnerves her, making it impossible for her not to wonder where last night's events will lead them today...and tomorrow...and the next day after that. She swallows hard, unable to suppress a shiver of excitement at the thought.

With a small smile playing around her lips, she decides it's time to start the day. "Alright," she says softly, her voice thick with sleep and desire, "what do you want to do first?" Her hand drifts lower still, coming to rest on your stomach before sliding higher, cupping your breast through the thin fabric of the sheet. A mischievous glint sparks in her eye as she waits for your answer.

Her eyes widen as you speak of breakfast, and then the work she mentioned. A wave of relief washes over her at the thought that maybe last night was nothing more than a fleeting moment of weakness on her part. Her grip tightens around your chest, nails digging into your skin as she smiles up at you. "Well," she says with false nonchalance, "I suppose we could have some breakfast." She rolls out of bed, still naked and unashamedly proud of her body, and heads towards the bedroom door. "And then," she continues over her shoulder as she reaches for the handle, "we'll see about that work." Her voice is light and teasing, but there's an edge to it that betrays her true intentions. Today is a new day...and Anastasia fully intends on claiming every bit of it for herself.

Her cheeks flush at your words, and she forces a casual shrug as she leads you into the dining room. "Of course I won't forget," she replies with a soft laugh, her eyes finding yours as they land on a servant who enters carrying a tray of food. "We've got plenty to discuss today." She smiles coyly and squeezes your hand reassuringly before letting it go as the servant begins to place delicious-smelling breakfast items on the table.

The conversation flows easily between you, Anastasia regaling stories of her past exploits while sipping coffee and occasionally stealing glances in your direction. Even though she knows what happened last night can't be undone, there's still a thrill that comes from playing this game with you. She isn't sure where it will lead them...but she's certain it will be an adventure unlike any other.