Page 36 of Royal Deception (Royals of the Underworld #2)

CLARY

T he next few days are something of a blur as I get my application put together for the Langley Fashion Institute. It’s the best school in the tri-state area and allows for online learning so I wouldn’t even have to take time off when the baby comes.

I’m nervous, but Miranda and Ana have been on me about having more self-confidence, and even Rory has been texting encouraging messages when he’s not busy with work.

Rory: You got this, beautiful.

I stare down at the message from him from yesterday, a smile on my face.

Things have still been going slow between us, mostly just a phone call here or a text message there, but it’s been nice.

There’s something calming about the domesticity in our interactions.

It feels as though we’re finally headed for something real.

Just as I’m putting the application in the post box down the road, I see Rory’s name flash across the screen on my phone.

“I just turned it in,” I say, excitement in my voice. I bounce on the balls of my feet, unable to contain my joy.

“Congratulations,” he says, his voice warm, fluid. It sends a tingle through me. “I know those committee people would be fools not to take you. I was thinking that maybe we could celebrate with another date?”

My heart skips. “A date?”

“Yeah, a date,” he replies, sounding a little unsure, but there’s that hint of hope I recognize in his voice.

“I’d like that,” I say, a smile tugging at my lips. “Tomorrow night?”

“I was thinking tonight, actually. Meet me at the penthouse.”

As usual, he seems to want to keep the location and activity a secret, so I agree and we hang up.

That night, I show up to Rory’s place, wondering what wonderful surprise he might have for me tonight.

But when I step through the door, I find myself puzzled when I see Rory standing there in his pajamas.

Confused, I glance at him from the doorway. “What’s going on?” I ask, my voice full of uncertainty. I was half-expecting something extravagant, but this… this is not what I had in mind.

Rory shifts his weight, then gives me a soft smile that makes my heart flutter in a way it hasn't in a while. “Well,” he starts, his tone warm but slightly playful, “since you’re pregnant, I thought we’d skip the fancy dinners and high-energy stuff for tonight. I want this to be cozy for you.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Cozy?”

“Yep,” he says, his eyes glimmering with excitement. “We’re having a pajama night. Gangster movies, popcorn, the whole thing. Just us, in here.” He gestures to the living room, where the soft glow of dimmed lamps gives the place a warm, inviting feel.

I stand there for a moment, processing. The idea of a quiet evening with Rory, just the two of us, sounds incredible. It’s simple, but somehow, that makes it even more appealing. I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. “That sounds like exactly what I need.”

Rory grins. “Good. I’m glad you think so. Here. I got you something.”

He reaches behind him and pulls out a neatly wrapped box, handing it to me with a small smile. “I got you some pajamas. That is, if you don’t mind,” he adds.

I take the box from him, my heart warmed by the thoughtfulness. “Thank you!” I say, already feeling excitement for the night ahead.

With a grin, Rory steps back as I head into the bathroom to change.

I slip into the cute, matching pastel pink pajama set, the soft fabric gliding against my skin.

Pausing for a moment in front of the mirror, I admire the way the fabric stretches over my growing bump.

I can’t believe how big the baby’s been getting lately.

As I’m lost in my reflection, Rory’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “You look stunning,” he says from the doorway, his tone low and full of admiration.

I turn, my breath catching when I see him standing there, looking like he’s just been struck by lightning.

He steps toward me slowly, his eyes locked on mine.

Before I can say anything, he slides his hands onto my belly, his fingers splayed across the soft fabric of my shirt.

He presses his chest against my back, his warmth radiating through me as he rests his chin on my shoulder.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re everything.”

A blush creeps up my neck, and I can’t help but smile. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I tease softly.

Rory chuckles, and before I can say anything else, he turns me in his arms and captures my lips in a slow, tender kiss. It’s deep but sweet, the kind of kiss that makes everything around us fade. When we finally pull away, his forehead rests gently against mine.

“Come on,” he says, his voice softer now. “Let’s go watch some movies, yeah?”

I nod, feeling lighter than I have in days. As we head back to the living room, I feel my hand slip into his, the weight of his touch comforting and steady. I can’t remember the last time I felt so at ease.

The couch looks incredibly inviting, and I flop down, grateful for the comfort.

Rory grabs the remote, dimming the lights even further before pulling me into his side.

As the opening credits of the first movie begin to roll, I snuggle closer into him, already feeling the stress of the day slip away.

As we get into watching the movie, I glance over to see Rory’s face illuminated by the screen. He’s got his whole attention on the movie, but when he senses me looking at him, he turns to me and gives me a soft smile.

I lace our fingers together, laying my head on his shoulder. My stomach does a little roll when I realize that his phone is nowhere in sight.

Rory is constantly on his phone. He’s always getting calls, texting people information, emailing back and forth with clients… it’s a sight to see.

It’s so considerate and kind, and it makes something stir deep inside me.

Maybe it’s the intimacy of it—the fact that for once, it’s just the two of us in our own little world.

My body seems to hum with the energy of it, and before I realize it, I’m shifting ever so slightly toward him, my fingers grazing along the side of his thigh.

He doesn’t seem to notice right away, still focused on the movie, but I can feel the tension in the air, almost like he’s waiting for something. As if he can sense me leaning closer. I shift again, this time letting my hand linger just a little too long on his leg before I pull back.

It doesn’t take long for him to notice. His head tilts toward me, and the glint in his eyes is unmistakable—dark, curious, with a hint of that playful edge I’ve come to love.

“You trying to start something?” he asks, his voice low and teasing, like he knows exactly what I’m doing.

I grin, heart racing a little faster as I bite my lip. “Maybe. What are you going to do about it?”

Before I can react, his hand shoots out and grabs mine, gently but firmly, pulling it to his mouth. His lips brush against my palm before he bites it lightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to send a jolt of heat straight through me.

I let out a surprised laugh, more breathless than I intend. “Rory!” I can’t stop the way my heart flutters at the unexpected shift in energy.

His grin widens, a gleam in his eyes that promises more. “You started this, Clary. You know that, right?”

I raise an eyebrow, not willing to back down so easily. “Oh, I know,” I tease, my voice dropping a little, turning into something softer, more seductive. “But if you’re not going to make a move, maybe I’ll just have to keep tempting you.”

His grip on my hand tightens, his fingers wrapping around my wrist as he pulls me closer. His mouth brushes my ear as he whispers, “Don’t test me, sweetheart. I might just take you up on that offer.”

The teasing dynamic shifts instantly, and the atmosphere between us crackles with a different kind of energy. I can feel the warmth of his breath on my neck, the heat of his body just inches from mine, and it’s intoxicating. I bite back a smile as I inch closer, not letting go of his gaze.

We’re both suddenly far more aware of each other, of the space between us. There’s a shift in the air, a current of energy that makes everything seem both slower and more electric at the same time.

The tension builds, palpable in the air, like we’re both walking on a tightrope, not entirely sure whether we’ll fall or keep our balance.

“Maybe we should finish the movie first,” I say, my voice betraying a hint of breathlessness.

Rory chuckles darkly, his eyes locked on mine. “Yeah, sure. But don’t think I’m forgetting what you started.”

And just like that, the playful teasing continues, building until we’re both wrapped in the energy of the night, caught somewhere between a movie, laughter, and a charge neither of us can ignore.

I grin, tilting my head as I watch Rory’s smirk deepen. There’s a flicker of challenge in his eyes, something wicked, something tempting. I can tell he’s waiting for me to make the next move—so I do.

With a quick shift, I throw my weight against him, pushing him back against the couch. He lets out a low chuckle as I climb over him, straddling his lap. “You think you can win this one, sweetheart?” he taunts, hands already finding my waist.

I laugh, feigning confidence. “I don’t think. I know.”

The words barely leave my lips before Rory moves. In a single, effortless motion, he flips us, pinning me beneath him against the cushions. I gasp as he settles between my legs, his hands braced on either side of my head.

“That so?” he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin.

I squirm beneath him, trying to wiggle free, but all it does is press me closer to him. His grip tightens slightly, not enough to hold me still, just enough to remind me that he’s in control now.

“You cheated,” I accuse, breathless.

He arches a brow, amused. “Oh? Didn’t realize there were rules.”

I push at his chest, but he barely budges. The warmth of his body seeps into mine, the weight of him intoxicating. I try again, this time twisting my hips beneath him, and for just a second, something shifts. The laughter between us falters, replaced by something thicker, heavier.

His hands slide down, gripping my wrists gently and pinning them above my head. “Careful, Clary,” he warns, his voice lower now. “Keep squirming like that, and we’re gonna stop playing real fast.”

A thrill shoots through me at the way his voice drops, at the heat in his gaze. “Maybe I want to stop playing,” I whisper, pushing the boundary between teasing and something more.

Rory’s eyes darken, his lips parting slightly as he stares down at me. For a moment, he doesn’t move, like he’s deciding just how far he wants to take this. Then, slowly, he leans in, his lips ghosting over mine, close enough that I can feel his breath but not quite touching.

“Say the word,” he murmurs.

My pulse pounds in my ears, my fingers twitching beneath his grip. I don’t hesitate. “Take me.”

And just like that, Rory closes the space between us. His lips crash against mine, slow and deep, like he’s been waiting for this moment just as much as I have. His grip on my wrists loosens, and my hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer.