Page 38 of Royal Deception (Royals of the Underworld #2)

CLARY

T he two of us lie together in a semi-sleepy state for what feels like hours.

When I come back to myself, Rory is stroking my hair, a soft look on his face as he gazes at me.

I can’t help the thrill that runs down my spine at the memory of before, the way he touched me so reverently, so sweetly.

It made me feel like a precious porcelain doll.

“I want to take you into the bedroom,” he says as our eyes meet. His voice is husky, and his cock hangs thick and heavy between his thighs, bobbing up and down. He hasn’t touched himself, but he’s clearly been waiting for me.

“Yes, please,” I whisper, a squeal escaping me as he picks me up and carries me off to the bedroom. Once inside, he helps me onto the bed and surprises me when he lies down.

“I want you to be on top,” he tells me. “You’re bigger now, and I don’t want my weight to crush you.”

I reach out to stroke a dark curl away from his forehead, my body already growing wet at the idea of riding him from above. “I want that too,” I say as he turns his face to kiss my palm.

He helps me climb atop him, and I straddle his lap, lining myself up with his cock as I start to sink down, enjoying how much he’s filling me up. I lower myself inch by inch, taking my time so as to savor this.

“God, Clary,” he says, his voice low and soothing. “You feel so good. So perfect. I feel so connected to you right now.”

“You feel so good inside me,” I echo back to him. “Like you were made for me. Like we were made for each other.”

There’s something in his eyes as I look at him, something that tells me that he feels the same way. I roll my hips, experimenting with the pace. Rory groans, his hands coming up to hold onto me to keep me steady.

“Just like that,” he encourages, reminding me that he’s the one in control, even if I’m on top. He’ll always be the one in control. “Keep up that pace, just like that, Pet.”

I close my eyes and tilt my head back, relishing how good this feels. His thumbs trace over my hipbones, stroking the flesh there. As I ride him, I look down to catch him intently staring at my belly and smile, raising an eyebrow.

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice you were pregnant,” he mumbles, cheeks tinged pink.

I laugh, a full-bodied laugh that travels all the way down, thrumming through my center.

“Your rounded belly is such a turn-on,” he admits, and I see a flash of vulnerability in his gaze before it’s gone, replaced by a smoldering look of desire.

“I feel self-conscious,” I admit. “I’ve always been on the bigger side, but now I feel huge.”

“You’re not,” he assures me. “You’re just a little bit bigger than before. Exactly one baby’s size bigger.”

That earns another chuckle from me, and he smiles, a little dimple in the corner of his mouth that makes me happy to see. We continue to move, his hips flexing as mine roll forward, the two of us settling into a comfortable rhythm.

“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you almost prefer me like this,” I tease, feeling like I can finally show my more playful side to him.

“Maybe I do,” he teases back with a straight face. “Maybe I ought to put a few more babies in your belly once this one comes out.”

The thought of him pinning me down and pumping me full of his seed sends a shudder through my body, and I close my eyes, turned on by the idea.

“Mmm, maybe you should,” I say, my voice dropping lower. “Maybe you should keep me pregnant and stuffed full, Sir.” I wink, and he chuckles, though there’s a dark gleam in his eyes.

“Don’t tempt me, Pet. You’d never leave this bed.”

“I don’t want to,” I say, rocking my hips a little faster as we move together. “Maybe I want to stay tied to the bed and bred until I’m dripping with your cum.”

“Oh, Clary,” Rory growls, his fingers digging into my hips as we move together with more intention, more force. “Fuck,” he gasps, eyes rolling back as my inner walls tighten around him. “Maybe we should.”

And maybe I want to belong to you forever , I don’t say, though it’s on my mind as I chase the pleasurable sensation in my lower belly.

“You like that, Sir?” I ask. “You like the idea of claiming me, making me walk around with a belly full of your cum, make me paint it into my skin so everyone knows that I belong to you?”

“Clary!” Rory cries out, slamming his cock into me. “Yes! I want to breed your slutty little hole, I want to stuff you full of my cum. I want to see your round belly and have everyone know that it’s my baby in there!”

A primal growl erupts from within me, and I start bouncing on his cock, lost in the pleasure of it all. “Yes! Oh, yes!” I cry out, getting closer. “I’d spend all my days as your cock warmer. Just sitting on you while you work, pumping load after load into me.”

This is the filthiest dirty-talk I’ve ever done, and it’s so hot that I feel myself almost slipping off Rory with how wet I’ve become. “I want you to take me and make me yours!”

Rory pounds into me with a force that surprises me, slamming his hips into mine as we fuck each other, desperate for release.

“Forever, until the end of time,” Rory grunts out just as my body tenses up and I find myself falling over the edge at the thought of that.

I love you , I want to say, but the words get stuck in my throat, the fear of what might happen if I say them stopping me.

“Clary!” Rory finishes right after me, pulling out to aim his cock at my belly so he comes all over me, painting me in thick, white stripes.

The two of us collapse together on the bed, utterly spent after such vigorous lovemaking. I cuddle into Rory and smile, utterly drained and completely content.

We lie there together, just relaxing, the two of us coming down from our high.

The air between us is warm, thick with the remnants of what just happened.

My body is still humming, a pleasant ache settling into my limbs as I curl deeper into Rory’s embrace.

His fingers lazily trace circles on my back, slow and steady, like he has no intention of moving anytime soon.

I don’t either.

For a while, neither of us speaks. There’s no need to. The rise and fall of his chest against mine, the soft brush of his lips against my temple—those things say enough.

Eventually, though, we have to move. I shift first, untangling myself from him and stretching with a satisfied sigh. Rory groans, one arm tightening around my waist as if he can keep me there.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.

I laugh softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw before slipping out of bed. “To clean up. You made a mess of me.”

A smug grin tugs at his lips. “Damn right, I did.”

Rolling my eyes, I grab a robe and head to the bathroom, feeling his eyes on me the entire way.

By the time I return, he’s still in bed, sitting up now, his hair mussed, sheets pooled around his waist. There’s something almost boyish about the way he looks at me—like he’s seeing something precious, something he doesn’t quite know what to do with.

I slide back under the covers, letting his warmth envelope me again. He doesn’t say anything at first, just pulls me close, his fingers brushing along my arm in absentminded patterns.

And then, out of nowhere, “You should move back in with me.”

I blink, my body stiffening slightly against his. “What?”

He tilts his head down, looking at me like it should be obvious. “I want you here. You should be here, with me. Especially with the baby coming.”

My heart clenches.

It’s tempting. God, is it tempting.

There’s a part of me that wants to say yes, to fall into this life with him, to let myself believe this means everything between us is fixed.

But it’s not.

I lift my head, searching his face. “I want to, but… Rory, you still haven’t apologized.”

His brows draw together, confused. “Apologized for what?”

I sit up, pulling the sheet with me. “For how you treated me before. For making me feel like I was nothing more than an inconvenience to you. You’ve changed, I know that. But you’ve never actually said you were wrong.”

His jaw tightens. “I’ve been trying, Clary. I’ve done everything I can to prove that I?—”

“That’s not the same,” I cut in, shaking my head. “You can’t just act like things are better without ever acknowledging why they were broken in the first place. I need to hear you say it, Rory. I need to know that you understand how much you hurt me.”

He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I regret it, alright? You think I don’t? You think I don’t hate myself for the way I made you feel?”

“Then say it.”

He looks at me, eyes burning with frustration, with something almost like fear. Like he doesn’t know how to give me what I’m asking for.

Like he doesn’t want to.

I swallow hard, my chest tightening. “I can’t do this if you don’t, Rory. I can’t just move in and pretend the past never happened. I need more than just effort. I need honesty.”

Silence.

He doesn’t say anything.

And that’s my answer.

My throat tightens, but I nod, forcing myself to move, to get up, to get dressed. My hands shake slightly as I pull my clothes back on, but I don’t stop. The mood between us is ruined now. Everything that we did together feels meaningless.

Rory just sits there, watching me, something dark and conflicted in his expression. He doesn’t stop me, nor does he try to take back what he said. He just stares, a disappointed look in his eyes that tells me everything I need to know.

Why did I think I would ever be more to Rory than this? Even his nicknames for me are carefully chosen to remind me that I’m beneath him, akin to a beloved animal. Not a person.

I gather my things, a storm of emotions inside my chest. I can’t do this. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I thought he’d changed. But Rory Brannagan will never change.

And when I walk out of his penthouse, closing the door behind me, I don’t look back.

It isn’t until I get back to Miranda’s that I let myself cry. I can’t believe I almost said I love you to him. He doesn’t deserve it. He’s a bastard and he’ll always be a bastard. I don’t even know if Rory is capable of love.

I’m going to stop letting him get to me like this. I’m going to put that bastard completely out of my mind.