Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 296 - Two Hundred And Ninety Five

He watched her hand. Her fingers were long and slender.

Marissa pulled the sash. The knot came undone with a soft, whispering sound. The silk belt fell away, hanging loosely at her sides.

She shrugged her shoulders.

The white silk robe slid down her arms. It pooled on the floor for a second before she picked it up. She turned away from him slowly, deliberately. She walked to a nearby chair and hung the robe over the back of it, smoothing the fabric with her hand.

Then, she turned back to face him.

Derek’s breath hitched. It got stuck in his chest, painful and sharp. He felt like he had been punched.

The nightwear underneath was scandalous.

It was not the modest cotton gown she usually wore. It was something entirely different. It was a slip made of the finest, thinnest lace and sheer silk he had ever seen. It was gossamer-thin. In the backlight of the lamp on his desk, the material was literally transparent.

It left nothing to the imagination.

Derek stood frozen behind his desk, his hands gripping the edge of the wood so hard his knuckles turned white. He stared.

He could literally see her naked underneath.

The fabric clung to her like a second skin, highlighting every contour of her body. He could see the smooth, pale curve of her waist, tapering in before flaring out into the soft swell of her hips. He could see the dark shadow of her navel. He could see the long, elegant lines of her legs.

His eyes traveled up. The lace on the bodice was delicate, almost non-existent. He could see the perk of her nipples pressing against the sheer fabric, hardened by the cool air of the room. He could see the full roundness of her breasts, rising and falling with her breath.

She looked like a goddess. She looked like a statue carved from moonlight and desire.

The way her dark curls framed her face made her look wild and untamed, a contrast to the innocent white of the gown. Her eyes were dark, locked onto his, filled with a knowing, playful light that promised trouble.

Derek felt a sudden, violent rush of heat. His blood, which had been sluggish and tired a moment ago, began to pound in his veins like a war drum. His heart hammered against his ribs.

He was hard instantly. It was a painful, immediate reaction. His hardness pressed against the fabric of his trousers, straining the seams, threatening to rip them apart. He felt dizzy. The room seemed to shrink until it was just him and her, and the vast expanse of the desk between them.

"M... Mari..." he stammered.

He tried to speak. He tried to form a coherent sentence. He wanted to ask her where she got that dress. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful. He wanted to tell her to cover up before he lost his mind and did something reckless.

But his brain had short-circuited. He always doesn’t know what to say when he sees her like that. All his intelligence, all his eloquence, all his political maneuvering skills vanished in the face of his wife’s beauty. He was just a man, looking at the woman he wanted more than anything.

Marissa saw his reaction. She saw the way his eyes darkened. She saw the way his hands gripped the desk until the wood creaked. She saw the bulge in his trousers. She saw the flush rising on his neck.

She smiled. It was a slow, predatory smile.

She didn’t stay by the chair. She began to walk towards him. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

She moved with a slow, deliberate grace, her hips swaying slightly. The sheer fabric swished around her legs, revealing the long, elegant lines of her thighs with every step. The sound of the silk was a whisper in the quiet room.

Derek couldn’t move. He was rooted to the spot, mesmerized. He watched her approach like a deer watching a hunter.

Marissa didn’t stop at the front of the desk. She walked around it. She came into his personal space, bringing with her the scent of lavender and warm skin.

She circled him.

She walked slowly around his back. Derek turned his head, trying to follow her, but she moved out of his line of sight. He could feel her presence behind him. He could feel the heat radiating from her body. He could hear the soft intake of her breath.

She placed her hands on his shoulders. Her touch was light, teasing. She ran her hands down his arms, over the tense muscles, over the ink stains on his cuffs. Her fingers were cool against his heated skin.

She reached his hands, which were still gripping the desk. She pried his fingers loose from the wood, one by one.

She gently pushed him.

"Sit," she didn’t say it, but her pressure on his shoulders was a command.

Derek’s knees were weak anyway. He collapsed back into his leather chair, the wood creaking under his weight. He sat there, looking up, waiting, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

Marissa didn’t come around to sit in his lap.

Not yet.

She stood behind him.

She leaned over the high back of the chair. Her hair fell forward, creating a curtain of silk that brushed against his cheek. He could smell the soap she had used, clean and fresh.

She lowered her head. Her lips were right next to his ear. He could feel her warm breath ghosting over his skin, sending shivers down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

She moved her hand. She trailed her fingers down his chest, tracing the line of buttons on his shirt, stopping just above his belt.

Derek closed his eyes, his head falling back against the chair, surrendering to her completely. The ledgers, the spring planting, the King’s council—it all faded away into nothingness.

Marissa leaned closer, her lips brushing the shell of his ear.

"Aren’t you hungry?" she whispered.