Page 58 of Royal Deception
He doesn’t relent. It’s pure torture trying to resist the mounting desire, the overstimulated throb of my cunt, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. I keep my face neutral, almost bored.
But it’s starting to get harder.
I don’t know how long it lasts but when the pressure finally lifts for a brief moment, it feels like a physical weight is gone from my chest. I exhale, my vision blurry but unwilling to show weakness by letting a single tear fall.
“You can be so good when you want to be,” Rory says, his voice light but tone mocking. He grasps my chin and turns me toface him, his eyes on mine. “But instead, you choose to act like a brat. And I was going to give you such a fun night, Pet.” He clicks his tongue. “So selfish of you.”
A sudden seed of doubt takes root in my chest, spreading like poison. Am I the selfish one? Am I the one destroying whatever fragile thing exists between us by trying so hard to force more than he’s willing to give?
The toy returns once more to my sopping core, the pressure increasing even higher. My body responds, even though I feel sick inside.
God.
What’s wrong with me?
I’ve been such a selfish, horrible bitch.
Rory made it clear from day one that he could never give me anything but this. I told him that was fine. I said I wanted this too.
And yet, I acted like a jealous, petty girlfriend yesterday. I had no right to him. I have no right to him.
Why am I like this? Why do I need to please people so badly that I twist myself into knots to be what they want—and yet Rory is willing to give me everything he can, and it’s still not enough for me?
Tears slip down the sides of my face, my hands trembling as a new panic takes hold. The restraints feel too tight, too confining. I need to get free.
I don’t even notice until it’s happened that I’ve dropped the golf ball. It clatters to the floor, echoing in the sparse room.
My eyes widen as I register what’s just happened, but Rory reacts immediately, untying me in a matter of seconds. He pulls the gag from my mouth and helps me to my feet, the Kegel balls tumbling uselessly to the floor.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out, the words tumbling from my lips in a frantic rush. “I–I didn’t mean to—I just?—”
“Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, scooping me into his arms as if I weigh nothing. “It’s okay, Clary. I’ve got you.”
I cling to him, burying my face in his chest as he carries me out of the playroom and into his bedroom. The familiar scent of him—dark spice and something distinctly Rory—wraps around me like a safety net. He lays me down on the bed, brushing damp hair from my face.
“Count to twenty for me, Pet,” he instructs gently. “I’m going to run a bath.”
I nod, my breaths still shaky, and start to count under my breath. When he leaves, the panic intensifies for a second, but by the time I reach seventeen, he’s back, pulling me into his arms again. The distant sound of rushing water fills the room, but all I can focus on is the way he holds me, rubbing slow circles into my back, murmuring soft reassurances against my temple.
When the bath is ready, Rory strips off his own clothes then lifts me effortlessly, stepping us both into the warm water. The heat seeps into my skin, easing the tension from my muscles as he pulls me close, my back to his chest.
“You’re safe,” he says, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “You’re okay.”
I close my eyes, letting the steady rise and fall of his breathing calm me. His hands move with tender care, running a soapy washcloth over my arms, my legs, my body—not touching to claim, but to comfort.
The warmth of the water soaks into my skin, grounding me, and everything starts to feel like it’s slowing down, giving me the space to breathe.
“I didn’t mean to drop the ball,” I whisper through trembling lips, my voice thick with tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to disappoint you. I’m sorry I was bad.”
His touch pauses for a moment, his hand resting against my skin. “You did it for a reason,” he says softly. “You’re not bad.You’re very, very good. I’m proud of you for knowing your limits, Pet.”
The words slice through the knot of guilt in my chest, and I let out a shaky breath. Something in me finally loosens, the tension dissipating just a little more.
We lie there together for a while in the water, soaking away the remnants of the scene. I cry a little more, but by the time I’m calmed down, the water starts getting cold so Rory lifts me out of the tub and carries me to the bedroom, wrapping me in a fluffy robe after drying me off.
We lie together in the bed for what seems like hours, but at some point, Rory stands up, walking over to the dresser. My eyes linger on him as he pulls something out and brings it over. It’s a box, and he opens it, revealing a stunning necklace, a simple silver chain with a deep blue crystal pendant. The back has some kind of lock, and I reach for it, a puzzled expression on my face.
“Only the person with the key can open it,” he says, his voice low and steady. “It’s an Eternity Collar.”
