Page 10 of Royal Deception (Royals of the Underworld #2)

CLARY

E ach stroke of the belt had stung with the intensity of a hundred insect bites, all at once. My skin throbs, raw and pulsing with every beat of my heart. Humiliation and pain crash over me in waves, but they slowly ebb, leaving behind a startling sense of clarity.

A calm, renewed energy fills me—the same sensation I’d been chasing through yoga, then through daily walks with Ana. But now, I’ve found it at the end of a belt, bent over and taking my punishment like a good girl. The irony isn’t lost on me, and I almost want to laugh.

I’d been searching for an outlet, something to help me cope with the chaos of my life, the unpredictability of my boss. And somehow, I’d found it with him.

On paper, I should feel shame. I should be humiliated that I debased myself on my hands and knees for the very man I was so certain I despised. But the tight knot of stress and anxiety that had been squeezing my ribs all day? It’s just gone.

I shift on Rory’s lap and wince, the sting of my marks a sharp reminder. He tightens his grip, stroking my hair as he waits for my answer. His gaze is expectant but he doesn’t push.

The tenderness in his touch confuses me. Rory is always so hard and so demanding. Not a day goes by—especially lately—where I don’t feel his gaze lingering on me, waiting for me to screw up so he can tear into me.

I shiver, adrenaline still fizzing through my veins. Everything about this is confusing. I liked being on the business end of his belt, feeling him hold me down and make me take every stroke. I shouldn’t have liked it, but I did.

Maybe that’s it. Maybe surrendering to Rory instead of fighting him was what I needed all along. I didn’t have to guess what he wanted, didn’t have to anticipate or outmaneuver him. I just had to let go.

His fingers lift my chin, bringing my gaze to his. His voice is a low murmur as he repeats himself. “Would you like your reward now?”

His eyes stay steady. Patient. This is my choice.

I swallow, pulse hammering against my throat. My lips part, breath shaky as I whisper, “Yes.”

Rory lays me out gently on his couch, taking his time arranging me into a comfortable position as he helps me remove my soiled shirt and corset top, leaving me completely exposed.

One arm comes up to cover my chest, but Rory gently pries it away, shaking his head. “Don’t hide yourself from me, little girl,” he says, his voice gentle but leaving no room for argument.

Something about the tone of his voice, the way his gaze is fixed on me so intensely, has me shivering, the already present arousal increasing until I’m little more than a puddle beneath him.

Obediently, I let my arms fall away, exposing myself to him as he takes in the sight of me, eyes roving over my naked body.

Somehow, this is more intimate than anything we’ve ever done before. We’ve had sex, of course. The baby in my belly is proof of that. But Rory’s never looked at me like this, like I was something he wanted, something he craved .

“You aren’t allowed to come until I give you permission,” he says, and that’s all the warning I get before he nudges my thighs apart and shuffles between them, settling himself there.

His thumbs come up, brushing over my folds as he parts my sex, tongue darting out to lick a soft, wet stripe over my overheated cunt.

My body attempts to rise from the couch, but Rory pins me in place as he begins to lavish attention on my clit, nibbling the soft flesh as he strokes soothing circles into my thighs.

Throwing my head back, I let out a breathless, whiny moan.

The sharp sting of the welts on my buttocks and thighs is a constant reminder of my recent punishment, but somehow, it makes everything better, so much more erotic and charged.

Rory’s lips buzz against my skin as he hums something low and rhythmic, the sensation sending sparks down my spine. I’m already worked up from everything that’s happened and I don’t know how long I can last.

It’s as though he has a direct line to my subconscious, though, because he pulls away long enough to murmur, “Relax,” and I’m going limp, closing my eyes as I let him take control once more. Some part of me knows that all I have to do is exist in the moment and Rory will take care of me.

I focus on the way his mouth feels as he gives me delicate, featherlight strokes of his tongue. His lips wrap around my clit to suckle my bud with tender pressure, ever careful not to go too hard.

For a brief moment, I wonder if he’s simply tormenting me, if he’s playing some kind of cruel game just to get me to beg.

But when our eyes meet, that thought flies away instantly.

I see no mockery in his gaze, no sharp-edged malice seeking to cut me down, only a soft look that I can’t quite decipher.

His eyes break away from mine, redirecting his attention to my pussy once more as he continues to trace little patterns with his tongue over me.

With every swipe of his tongue, the neediness grows inside, no matter how hard I try to push it away.

Gulping in a few shaky breaths, I let my eyes roll up to the ceiling, counting the small dots in the tiles as I attempt to regain control of my body.

My thighs are trembling with the effort of holding back, and it doesn’t help that Rory’s fingers are now finding my entrance, toying with it as he laps over my clit in slow strokes.

My fingers find purchase in the pillows underneath me, gripping them tightly as his tongue licks its way down to probe my entrance.

“Oh, God,” I whimper, the words escaping me before I can stuff them down. I don’t know if I’m allowed to speak, so I bite my lip, holding back the words that want to come pouring out.

“I want to hear you,” Rory says, pulling away for a moment.

His face is shiny with my slick, and I don’t know why I find that so damned arousing but my stomach clenches, need pulsing inside.

“Don’t swallow those greedy noises, Pet,” he orders.

His mouth moves back down, and I cry out, an almost inaudible curse slipping from my lips.

“What was that?” Rory asks, pulling away again. Every time he pulls back, my body grows more desperate, more needy.

“Fuck!” I burst out, and Rory smirks, diving back down once more.

He’s increased the pressure now, giving my clit sharp little nips, rough licks of his tongue, his lips sucking more insistently.

The coil of desire is growing tighter inside me, threatening to snap, but I haven’t been given permission yet so I dig my fingers harder into the cushions, my teeth nearly chattering as I clench my jaw shut.

I’m not about to give in yet, not about to let Rory down, not when he’s being so generous, so thorough in the attention he’s lavishing on my body.

One hand comes up to my breasts, pinching and rolling the nipples between his fingers while the other continues to play with my cunt, two fingers curled up together as they thrust in and out of me with a steady pace.

“Fuck, oh, fuck, please, please!” The words come tumbling out of me, a string of near-nonsense as I writhe against Rory’s face, trying not to let my hands fly up to his head to grip the curls there and shove him against me.

Rory’s fingers pick up speed and his tongue goes into overdrive circling my clit with a relentless pace as he sucks and nibbles the fleshy gem. I bite down on my lip so hard that I taste copper as I hold myself back, waiting to be given permission.

Just as I think I can’t hold back any longer, certain I’m going to break apart, Rory’s fingers twist just so and he pulls back long enough to give the order.

“Come for me,” he says, moving his mouth back into place, driving his tongue against me as his fingers rub against my spot. I clench my belly and the orgasm hits hard, erupting from deep inside as I let go, the world spinning around me.

“Oh, God!” I yell, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over me. It’s almost too much as Rory continues to lick and suck his way through the aftershocks, keeping me just on the edge of overstimulation.

The final time he pulls away, he sits up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a quiet sort of contentment on his face as he gazes at me, the edges of his lips curling into a tiny smirk.

“Not God, just your boss,” he says, his tone light.

Something about that sends a ripple of unease through me, anxiety and horror spreading through my veins as I realize what I’ve just done.

Oh, God.

The weight of it crashes down on me all at once.

I let Rory—my boss—spank me. I let him punish me like I were some misbehaving child, and what’s worse?

I liked it. The sting, the heat, the sharp bite of leather against my skin—it had been exhilarating.

And then I let him touch me, let him take me apart with those same hands that had disciplined me.

A cold wave of shame washes over me, sinking its claws in deep. I feel sick. What kind of person enjoys being handled like that? What does that say about me?

I jerk away from him, but Rory’s arms tighten around me, keeping me anchored in place. His touch is steady, reassuring, and when I dare to lift my gaze to his, I don’t find amusement or cruelty in his expression. There’s only warmth and understanding.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, his fingers stroking slowly down my back. “It’s completely normal to feel this way after something so intense.”

I shake my head, throat tight. “I–I can’t believe I let you…”

“You let yourself explore something,” he corrects gently.

My breathing is shallow, my pulse erratic, but Rory continues to hold me, his warmth seeping into my skin. His steady presence grounds me, easing some of the whirlwind in my head.

I swallow. “Thank you,” I whisper after a moment. “I needed that. I don’t regret what we did, but it was… different. And I think… I think I worried you’d be upset that I used you like that.”

And it’s true. Despite Rory being the one in control, in some small way, I feel like I used him to find that inner peace, that meditative high I’d been searching for.

And I loved it. Every single part. The way he forced soap into my mouth, the bitterness making me gag. The sharp, unrelenting sting of the belt. The degrading way he made me submit—it had all morphed into something terrifyingly addictive.

“I liked it too,” Rory reassures me, his voice calm, quiet. He brushes his lips over my temple before pulling back. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. We found mutual satisfaction, that’s all.”

I worry my bottom lip, the skin raw from how hard I’ve been biting it. My pulse kicks up again as I hesitate, then push forward.

“Do you think maybe it’s something we could do again?” My voice is softer now, uncertain. “Like maybe… once a week?”

Rory stares at me for a long moment, silent. My heart beats faster in my chest, the quiet stretching between us as I pray I haven’t ruined this, that I haven’t overstepped by asking for more.

But I want more.

And maybe he does too.