Page 15 of Royal Deception (Royals of the Underworld #2)

RORY

A nticipation builds inside me as I step off the elevator. My footsteps echo across the marble flooring as I walk to my door, and when I open it, my heart pounds at the sight of the figure waiting for me.

Clary is obediently kneeling on the pillow, just as I’d instructed. Her posture is perfect, head bowed, hands resting on her thighs, the collar around her neck a display of her submission.

The sight of her like this stirs something in me, something primal, and arousal pools low in my belly, but I push it away, not wanting to deal with it at the moment.

I can’t help but admire the way she looks in this moment, so vulnerable, so open for me. She’s completely still, though I catch sight of her eyes as they briefly flick up to meet mine. Just a brief moment before she turns them back down, waiting for me to make a move.

Her body trembles almost imperceptibly. There’s a heavy sense of anticipation hanging in the air. I know what she expects, but I’m not here to give her what she wants. She’s going to do what I want right now.

As I clear my throat, I wait, and Clary’s eyes meet mine once again, her expression wide and expectant. “You will always refer to me as ‘Sir’ from now on,” I tell her. “Whenever you have your collar on, call me by that title.” Clary nods.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Stand up,” I order, my voice quiet but commanding.

She’s on her feet instantly, obeying without hesitation. I watch, a swell of satisfaction at the way she completely surrenders herself to me.

Without another word, I guide her by the arm to the dining room.

The housekeeper has left my meal waiting on the table.

The rich aromas of soda bread and pot roast fill the air, but I don’t sit down.

Instead, I gesture to the spot next to my chair, placing the pillow there and waiting for Clary to kneel.

She hesitates for a moment but lowers herself onto the pillow, and I take a seat, placing my napkin on my lap, beginning to eat without giving her any further acknowledgment.

The silence in the room is thick, but I find myself enjoying it almost as much as the delicious food.

As I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, I see her relax, her body sinking into the space beside me. Her obedience is a magnetic force, and I’m having a hard time ignoring her despite the way she remains silent.

Between bites, I absentmindedly reach out to stroke her hair, my fingers threading through the soft strands.

She leans into the touch, her breath steadying as the seconds pass.

The trust that she’s placing in me is intoxicating, but there’s something more, something deeper that I refuse to let myself examine right now.

For now, I focus on the meal, ignoring her except for the occasional gentle touch to her hair. I continue eating in silence, watching her relax further into the moment.

Once I’ve finished the last bite, I set my fork down and place the napkin on the table.

Clary is still kneeling silently beside me, the faint scent of pot roast still lingering in the air.

I rise from my chair and head into the kitchen to clean up.

Clary’s eyes track my movements but she remains perfectly still, her posture straight.

A twinge of pride blossoms in my chest at how well she’s obeying.

As soon as I’ve finished cleaning up, I turn back to her and hold out my hand. “Come with me, Pet,” I say, my voice soft. She stands, her legs slightly shaky, and I lead her down the hall, the soft sounds of her steps on the hardwood echoing through the apartment.

We walk down the hallway to the end, to the spare bedroom. When I open the door, I notice the way Clary’s eyes widen as she takes it all in.

“This,” I begin, my voice low but purposeful, “is where I keep my things.” Everything is neatly arranged here, a few shelves displaying my favorite pieces, a queen-size bed in the middle of the wall, and a large closet, which I walk over to and open slowly, revealing more of my collection carefully stored within.

There are plenty of toys of all shapes and sizes.

Everything from whips to floggers, to electric stimulators, clamps, and more.

It’s all carefully ordered, like every other facet of my life.

Her gaze flickers across the shelves, her body still, as if she’s absorbing it all. “What do you think?” I ask, searching her face for any sign of distress, any hint of disgust.

But she surprises me when she smiles slowly, shyly, putting her arms behind her back again as she takes it in. “There’s so much,” she murmurs. “What do you have planned for us?”

“I want to see where your limits might be,” I inform her.

“We’re going to start small and work our way up.

” Clary nods, expression placid, though I see the excitement in her eyes.

“Come stand in the center of the room,” I order.

She moves to obey and glances around before her eyes land on the suspension hook that dangles from the ceiling, just above her head.

I stand behind her, lifting her hair off the back of her neck, and place a soft kiss there, just a featherlight touch of my lips, then pull away. “Stay there,” I tell her. She stands still as I walk over to the shelf and grab a blindfold, then bring it back to drop over her eyes.

“Can you see anything?”

She shakes her head. “No, Sir.”

A smile curves upward and I relax my arms by my side.

“Good. I’m going to tie your arms behind your back now, Pet,” I tell her.

Reaching for the silk rope I’d purchased, I begin with a simple configuration that forces her arms into a semi-comfortable position behind her, pushing her breasts outward.

Once the rope is secured with an easy-release knot, I bring the rope up and tie it to the hook, enjoying the way she’s forced slightly forward.

Her breasts are now on full display for me, and I start by gently teasing and caressing the nipples, eager to see how much she can handle. She jerks back on instinct, but I steady her, relishing the way her nipples harden into stiff peaks under my hands.

Continuing my slow, teasing worship, I bend down and suck one into my mouth, the soft, slightly sweet taste exploding on my tongue. My hand massages her other breast while my mouth nibbles the dusty brown bud in front of me.

Her breath starts coming in shallow pants, and it’s obvious that there’s still part of her that clings to the last remnants of control. I can’t have that so I bite down, earning a loud moan in response.

Switching to the other breast, I start by flicking my tongue across the nipple over and over, then swirling around it in a slow circle before pulling back to blow a cool breath across the now-wet skin.

She shivers and moans again, her thighs clenched tightly together as if to gain friction. I pull her thighs apart with my free hand as I continue to lavish attention on her breasts, gently nipping the peak between my teeth and grinding down ever so slightly.

“Oh, God, yes,” she moans. “Please, sir. Please. I need it. Please give me more.” The words come tumbling out of her, and her cheeks turn pink as though embarrassed at debasing herself, but she swallows and starts to writhe against me.

“Please, I want more,” she pleads, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I need it. I need to feel you. Touch me!” she demands.

I pull away again, frowning. It seems like Clary needs a reminder of who’s in control right now. Stepping to the side, I open a drawer in the closet and rifle through, coming up with the item I was searching for quickly.

I step back over to Clary and attach the silicone ball gag around her head, pushing the black ball into her mouth to stop her from being able to speak. The ball has holes to make it breathable, but now she can’t demand anything from me.

She whines, helpless against the intrusion in her mouth, but as I start to touch and caress her breasts again, she relaxes into the touch, focused on the sensations themselves.

This isn’t about getting off right now. This is about her learning how to surrender every last ounce of control, even when she thinks she already has.

The more I touch her, the more she relaxes, but I can see the slick that leaks from her entrance slowly dripping down her leg. Little shivers escape her every so often, and I know she’s close to the edge. Instead of finishing her off, I step away again.

She shivers again but relaxes, shoulders slumping. I can tell she’s still in there a little, wanting more, but she’s being completely obedient, completely silent.

Reaching out, I pull the release knot and catch her before she can topple forward.

I sit her upright and undo the ropes around her arms. There’s a faint line of marks across her skin, but they’ll probably be gone by tomorrow.

Her belt marks have faded away too, and I mourn that.

Maybe next time, I’ll mark her up again.

Lastly, I take the ball gag out of her mouth and remove the blindfold, brushing away the stray tears that leaked from her eyes.

Once she’s free of her bindings, I pick her up and carry her to the bath, letting the water fill the tub as I whisper soft words of praise. “You did a good job, Pet,” I murmur, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “You did so good. You pleased me greatly. I’m proud of you.”

It seems as though she’s coming out of her subspace as she blinks up at me, a dopey little smile on her face. “Thank you, Sir,” she says, relaxing into the warm water as I wipe her down. It’s soothing for me, bathing her like this.

Some part of me reminds myself, you could have this all the time if you wanted , but I brush that thought to the side, unwilling to entertain it.

I’m content with what I have for now. Instead, I rub the washcloth in slow, soothing circles across her bare skin.

When she’s all clean, I lift her out of the tub and wrap her in a towel before sitting with her on the bed.

Her head is tucked up under my chin, and the two of us sit together. When she looks up at me, I realize she’s finally come back.

“Welcome back,” I say, my tone light.

“What happens now?” she asks. “Do I get another reward?” A smile plays at the edges of her lips, but I brush my thumb over it, shaking my head.

“Remember, Pet. All your orgasms belong to me now. You don’t need to concern yourself with it any longer. Don’t worry about it.”

Clary sighs and smiles, placing her hands in her lap. She looks down, so I pick up her chin to look her in the eyes. “Is there anything else you’d like?”

She hesitates a beat, then swallows, as though finding her courage. “There’s one thing I’d like to do. Is it possible that I could…” She pauses, as though searching for what she wants to ask. I wait patiently, unprepared for the next words that come out of her mouth.

“May I suck your cock, Sir?”