Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 200 - Two Hundred

The fire in the hearth cast a warm, orange glow across the room, but the heat inside Marissa’s body was far hotter. She was already overcome by lust. It had started hours ago, from the very moment she saw him walk into the drawing room.

She remembered the image vividly. He had been wearing his full commander’s attire—the black coat, the silver buttons, the heavy boots. His hands had been resting on the hilt of his sword. He had looked glorious. He had looked powerful. He had looked like hers.

Since that moment, a slow, steady ache had been building between her legs. She felt her insides spill, a wet, heavy heat that demanded attention. She was already wet, her body preparing for him long before they entered the bedroom.

She looked down at him now. He was tied to the bed, naked and vulnerable, yet his eyes were dark with the same desire she felt.

Marissa didn’t wait. Even if he hadn’t asked her for his reward, even if he hadn’t begged, she knew she would have done this. She would have pinned him down. She would have made love to him until the world outside disappeared.

She lifted her hips slightly. She reached down with her hand. Her fingers brushed against him. He twitched, a guttural sound vibrating in his chest.

She held his hardness. It was hot, smooth, and rigid. She guided him.

Slowly, deliberately, she lowered her hips.

She inserted it herself.

"Oh," she breathed.

She let out a long, shaky sigh of relief as his length was buried inside her. It was a feeling of fullness, of completion. The empty ache was filled. She closed her eyes for a second, savoring the stretch, the connection.

Derek groaned. His hips bucked upward, instinctively trying to go deeper, but the ribbons holding his wrists kept him pinned.

Marissa opened her eyes. She looked at him.

She began to move.

She rode him.

It was a slow, rhythmic motion. She rose and fell, controlling the pace, controlling the depth. It was the way he rode his black mare—with confidence, with ownership. But hers was different. It wasn’t about conquering. It was about sharing. It was about taking what she needed.

Derek watched her. His eyes were wide, fixed on her face.

She looked even more beautiful when she was in need. Her head was thrown back slightly, her neck exposed. Her lips were parted, letting out soft, breathy sounds. Her skin was flushed a deep, pretty pink.

He could see it in her eyes when she looked down at him. He saw the raw vulnerability. He saw that she needed him more than he needed her right now.

"And why wouldn’t she?" Derek thought, his mind hazy with pleasure. "I was gone for almost a week. I left her here."

He thought about the empty bed she had slept in. He thought about the cold nights.

"She was alone in her bedchamber," he realized. "She was feeling lonely. She was missing me."

He felt a pang of guilt mixed with the pleasure. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let go, but his hands were tied. He could only watch. He could only feel her surrounding him.

His thoughts were cut short by her ministrations.

Marissa moved faster. Her rhythm changed. She was no longer slow. She was urgent.

Her voice filled the room. It was sweet like nectar, high and desperate.

"Derek... Derek..." she whispered his name like a chant.

Her body glistened with sweat in the firelight. A thin sheen covered her chest and her forehead. Her dark hair, damp and messy, clung to her face and neck.

To Derek, she didn’t look like a mortal woman. She looked like the way a poet describes a magical creature—a siren, a goddess, something wild and perfect that had come down to earth just for him.

She leaned forward. Her hands pressed against his chest, her fingers digging into his muscles. She rode him harder, chasing her release.

Derek gritted his teeth. The sensation was too much. He felt the pressure building at the base of his spine. He was close. He wanted to go with her.

Marissa cried out. Her body tensed. She clamped down on him, her inner muscles squeezing him tight. She shuddered, riding out the wave of her pleasure.

Then, she collapsed.

She fell forward, landing on his chest. Her face was buried in the crook of his neck. Her breathing was fast and ragged, her heart hammering against his ribs.

She lay there, heavy and warm. She was catching her breath.

The room was silent, save for the sound of their panting and the crackle of the dying fire.

Derek lay still, waiting. He waited for her to move. He waited for her to kiss him. He waited for her to help him finish.

But she didn’t move. She just lay there, relaxing.

Derek’s body was still humming. He was still hard. He was aching.

He frowned. He pulled against the silk ribbons binding his wrists to the headboard. They held firm.

"Mari?" he whispered.

She made a small, sleepy sound against his neck. "Mmm?"

"Mari," he said, his voice tight. "But... I haven’t even released yet."

He whined. It was a pathetic, needy sound for a Grand Duke to make, but he was desperate.

Marissa lifted her head. She pushed herself up slightly, resting her chin on her hands, which were folded on his chest.

She looked at him. Her eyes were clear now, the haze of passion gone. She looked calm. Too calm.

She just smiled.

It was a sweet smile, but there was a sharp edge to it. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t move her hips. She didn’t reach down to touch him.

She just watched him suffer.

Derek looked at her smiling face. He looked at her stillness.

He realized what was happening.

"Are you punishing me?" Derek asked, his eyes narrowing. "For my absence these few days? And because I didn’t write you a letter?"

He remembered the days at the barracks. He had been busy with the generals, with the army, with the assessment. He hadn’t sent word. He had left her wondering.

Marissa nodded slowly.

"Yes," she said simply.

Derek groaned. He let his head fall back against the pillow.

"You are indeed really cruel," he complained. "You use my own desire against me."

Marissa shifted. She sat up, straddling his waist but not moving. She reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from his face, her touch gentle.

"Cruelty is a teacher," she whispered.

Derek looked at her. He saw the hurt behind the playfulness. He realized she had been truly worried. She had been scared he wasn’t coming back, or that he was in danger.

His frustration melted away.

"I’m sorry," Derek said. His voice was sincere. "Please, forgive me, Mari. I never intended to stay this far away from you. I never meant to make you worry."

He looked deep into her eyes.

"I was so busy," he explained. "The generals... the assessment... the investigation into Carlos’s bribery. I... I was so engrossed. I thought I was protecting you by staying away until it was done."

Marissa listened. She saw the truth in his eyes.

She leaned down and kissed him. It was a soft, forgiving kiss.

"I forgive you," she whispered against his lips.

Derek sighed with relief. He tried to move his hips, trying to get her to start moving again.

But Marissa pulled back.

She moved off him.

Derek’s eyes went wide. He watched as she slid off his body, leaving him cold and empty. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

She stood up beside the bed. She smoothed her hair.

Derek became afraid. He thought she was leaving. He thought she was going to walk out the door and leave him tied up and frustrated all night.

"Marissa?" he asked, panic in his voice. "Where are you going? Don’t leave me like this. Please."

Marissa didn’t leave.

She reached up to the headboard. Her fingers worked quickly on the knots of the black ribbon.

She freed his left wrist. Then his right.

Derek brought his arms down. His muscles burned with relief. He rubbed his wrists, looking at her with confusion.

Marissa climbed back onto the bed. But she didn’t lie down.

She sat in the middle of the mattress, her legs folded under her. She looked like a queen on a throne of pillows.

She opened her legs slightly. She wasn’t wearing anything. She was beautiful, inviting, and completely out of reach.

She looked at him. She smirked.

"If you want to release," Marissa said, her voice low and challenging.

She gestured to herself.

"You will have to earn it yourself," she declared.

She leaned back on her hands, arching her back, displaying herself to him.

"Just like I earned mine," she added.

Derek stared at her. He rubbed his wrists one last time, getting the blood flowing.

He looked at her confidence. He looked at her challenge.

A growl rumbled in his chest. It was a primitive sound.

He didn’t wait. He didn’t ask. He pounced on her.

He moved with the speed of a tiger. He tackled her onto the pillows, his body covering hers, his weight pressing her down into the soft mattress.

Marissa laughed, a surprised, happy sound as he captured her.

"I will earn it," Derek promised, his voice rough against her neck. "And I will earn it all night long."

He kissed her, hard and demanding, proving that he was more than up to the challenge.