Chapter 53: Remember the rating is MA. Big fat Clary/Jonathan chapter with Lemons. Clary's back to trying to manipulate the master manipulator. Oh Clary. I wanted to give more insight into Jonathan's madness and dichotomy. How he's owned by it, but also uses it against Clary. This story is about to get crazy. Trust me, it's all building up to a big ending. I'm just twisting the angst & drama… as I do.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: NON-CON elements

I do not own any of the characters, only the illustrious Cassandra Clare owns them. I do, however, own this particular story, so please don't be lame and copy/paste it elsewhere.

Thank you for the follows, likes, and reviews! It really means a lot!

Previously: "Fuck Jonathan Morgenstern. Let's send him to hell to get reacquainted with his goddamned father."

One Day Later

Clary sipped her coffee and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. She watched as the server scooped her breakfast onto her plate and nodded in thanks. Her right arm was still in the sling and Jonathan made sure she was waited on, hand and foot, by everyone. It grated on her nerves. He likes me weak. It makes him feel in control. Cook had made a delicious breakfast casserole for her and Jonathan, with cranberry orange muffins, and fresh strawberries. It smelled wonderful. Jonathan told her, when they awoke this morning, that he had a few surprises for her at breakfast. She had feigned excitement and wore the green silk blouse he loved, with a long, figure skimming black skirt. Of course, she wore the Morgenstern pendant and matching earrings, as expected of her. On her feet, she wore one black flat slipper, with her sprain boot on her right foot, still pretending her injury hurt her. She felt his eyes on her and turned to him. He sat at the head of the dining table, where his father once sat. She sat at his right, just as she had for Valentine. His black eyes studied her. He's always staring at me. I hate it so much. He's probably thinking about all of the filthy things he wants to do to me tonight. I'll have to comply so as not to raise his suspicion. Or he will force me. He pursed his lips and looked her over. "I hope you slept well, love. Be prepared for a long night. I've missed you so much, Clarissa." Clary swallowed and nodded at him, blushing. He chuckled as he picked up his coffee.

When Jonathan had come to their room last night, she had pretended to be asleep. In the dark, she heard him remove his clothes and slip into the bed. He had wrapped his arms around her torso and pulled her to him, as he spooned against her. He kissed her shoulders and the back of her neck, cupping and gently squeezing her breasts. Clary had pretended to wake up when she felt his hardness press against her. "Jonathan. I'm so exhausted… I need one more night of rest. Please…" He had stilled, kissed her neck again, then sighed, releasing her breasts, and hugging her. "One more night, Clarissa. Tomorrow, it is. Good night, my love." She laid awake for hours as he slept, wrapped tightly around her body. I'll have to give in… be convincing tomorrow. If he gets suspicious I won't be able to get away again.

Clary shook her head. Pulled from her memory. Jonathan had spoken to her. "I'm sorry, Jon. What was that?" She nervously took a bite of her food. He smirked at her knowingly. "I said, Clarissa, that one of your surprises is here." He gestured to the dining room entryway. Clary gasped as Amatis walked in, with a polite smile on her face. She was thinner and her black pantsuit hung on her. She sat across from Clary at the table, as a server placed a plate of food in front of her. Jonathan cleared his throat and nodded at her aunt. "Amatis, thank you so much for joining us. You are looking well this morning. How are you finding your new quarters?" What is he talking about? I thought she was in a cell downstairs. "It's perfect. I'm so happy to be here with you and Clarissa. You make such a lovely couple." Amatis smiled warmly at Jonathan, then turned the same smile to Clary. She looked down at her plate and began to eat. "Such a lovely couple…" It was eerie, not like Amatis at all. Why did she call me Clarissa? Clary looked at her aunt, with a confused expression. Fuck it. Everyone here knows what happened. Clary waited for the server to leave them alone. "Aunt Amatis, I haven't seen you since the gala… since you shot Valentine— since I left and returned. I'm sorry I left you behind." Jonathan's head whipped around to look at her, his eyes narrowing. Clary looked back at him, annoyed, then back at Amatis. "Umm, what happened after they took you away? You may speak freely here. Valentine's dead. You seem different. What happened to you?" Why are you so fucking… smiley?

Her aunt smiled warmly at her and raised her eyebrows in confusion. "I shouldn't have done that to poor Valentine… he had a heart condition, you know. God rest his soul." Clary's face drained of color and she felt sick. Something's very wrong with her. Amatis sipped her tea and smiled at Jonathan, then back to her. "Valentine was so mad. So mad… But Jonathan helped me rest for a while and got me therapy. With his help, I realized I had been so wrong about everything. So wrong. Now, everything's just perfect. I'm so happy to be here with you two. You make such a lovely couple. Oh! Jonathan, have you told Clarissa about the party?" Jonathan smiled indulgently at Amatis and chuckled. "Not yet, Amatis. Clarissa, tomorrow night we are having a ball to celebrate your homecoming and our wedding. We didn't have much of a reception, with what Father tried to– anyway. I have talked to the doctor and he feels you may take your boot off today and should be fine to dance tomorrow night… just no high-heels, kitten." Amatis clapped her hands together like a schoolgirl. "Such a lovely couple...I just love you both so much, Clarissa. I can't wait for the party…such a lovely couple." She grinned maniacally across the table. What in the absolute fuck?

Clary started to tremble. Clarissa. This was not her aunt. This simpering, flowery, ball of sunshine was not her strong, brave, badass Aunt Amatis. What the fuck did they do to her? Clary suddenly felt hot and claustrophobic. She pushed herself away from the table, blinking away tears and took a deep breath. Amatis hummed a mindless tune to herself and ate her breakfast. Clary stood up and rushed from the room. She heard Jonathan call after her, but didn't look back and kept going. She passed one of the bodyguards, who nodded at her and smirked. Ignoring him, she saw the double doors of the state room ahead of her and burst in, quickly closing the doors behind her. She dropped onto the couch by the fireplace and laid down. Hugging the sofa pillow against her chest, she allowed herself to cry. She was glad Amatis was safe, but she wasn't her aunt. She was an imitation. Did she finally lose her mind? Fucking Valentine. She sniffled, as her tears dwindled and stared into the fire. I have to focus on escaping at the ball, tomorrow night. He'll come to find me. He always does… Jonathan can't be suspicious. I need to get in his head.

Clary slowly opened her eyes and sat up. I must have fallen asleep. She looked around the room, remembering all of the hours she spent working on the gallery opening with her aunt. She remembered how careful they had to be; how guarded. She had worked so hard on the project, in honor of her mother, and it had all been a disgusting, elaborate ruse to trap her in Idris. She remembered having to tolerate Valentine's inappropriate attentions when curating her mother's art… his proximity to her, smelling her hair, his accidental touches. Then what he tried to do at her wedding reception. Had he always wanted her or had he gone mad because of how she looked like her mother? Who fucking cares. I'm so glad he's dead. Jonathan killed him for me and I'm glad. Poetic.

Clary looked up at the portrait hanging above the fireplace of Valentine, her mother, and little Jonathan. As usual, she felt a pang of sympathy for Jonathan. How could such a beautiful little boy grow up to be such a monster? He was the most innocent in all of this, all those years ago. An unloved, unwanted child to replace one so loved and wanted. It was so unfair. She focused on Valentine's cold smile. Sick bastard. He twisted Jonathan from the very beginning. He never had a chance. Clary wondered how Jonathan would have turned out if her mother had stayed. Would she and Jonathan have been like siblings or would he have always been attracted to her… or her to him? Yes. I'm fucking attracted to him… maybe they've driven me mad as well. But I'm not in love with after everything— He's not my Jace. But I do have feelings there. I hate him, but I don't. Maybe he's gotten into my head? She looked at the painting, noting the possessive way Valentine gripped her mother's certainly didn't blame Jocelyn for leaving Valentine. Fucking monster. But leaving a toddler with him? Poor Jonathan. Would he have been normal? Would my dad have raised him as his own? Stop it. It doesn't matter now.

Clary yelped when she felt warm hands gently squeeze her shoulders from behind. Jonathan. "Clarissa, love, here you are. You looked so deep in thought, I hesitated to disturb you." Time to play the game. Get in his head. Clary sighed as he stepped around the couch and sunk down next to her. He tilted his head at her and looked her up and down. "You look so sexy in that shirt, kitten." Fuck. Is that all he ever thinks about? He pulled her next to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You know I don't like it when you run away from me. Tell me what you're thinking. Come here, Clarissa." I'm thinking that you completely fucked up my aunt. Clary turned her face towards him to speak and he smashed his lips against hers. Clary whimpered against him and returned his kisses, pretending to succumb to his dominance. She felt her arousal coil deep in her abdomen. It's getting harder to resist him. Fuck. He slid one hand up and cupped her breast through the thin silk of her blouse. Nope. Clary broke the kiss, gasping, and slid away from him. "Jon– I need to know what the hell you did to Amatis. Stop trying to distract me with your– flirting. She's obviously not herself. Just tell me… we're supposed to be starting over. I need to know. Be honest with me." Play weak and vulnerable. He loves taking care of you. Let him think he's seducing you. Gain the upper hand.

Jonathan pursed his lips and looked at her with a serious expression. She wants to know what I did to Amatis? I simply finished what Father started. Got her out of my way, without slitting her throat. Time to get into Clarissa's head again. He reached down and pulled her bare legs across his lap. He hummed thoughtfully and removed her slipper from her left foot and the boot from her right. He knew her ankle was better and that she'd been using the fake-injury to keep him off of her. Times up, love. He began softly massaging her feet, focusing on the tender arch of her right foot. Clary hummed in her throat and pressed her thighs together. He looked down at her tiny feet and smiled knowingly. He remembered that she got turned on the last time he did this, back in New York. Continuing his ministrations, Jonathan inhaled deeply and looked over at her. She's blushing. "Clarissa, after Amatis shot Father, she was taken back here and put in a cell, while I stayed at the gala to organize the search for you… after he took you away. Rot in hell, Herondale. You have to understand that Father was furious– she shot him three times in the chest, after all. So, he was going to have her tortured and killed." Clary tensed up and gasped. Calm her.

Jonathan held her feet on his lap and gently began massaging her right ankle, running his hand up and down her calf. She visibly relaxed. "But, Valentine thought that killing her would make it so you would never return to us. So, he called one of his favorite doctors in and had him begin a, sort-of, chemical intervention, or mental conversion, if you will. It was something Father had been working on for years. Um– he had hoped to use it on Jocelyn, when he got her back. It's a chemical mind control protocol. Basically, the doctor inundated her with a specific drug cocktail and converted her into a more agreeable person… someone he was able to persuade to obey him. As you know, Father died that night, but the conversion treatment had already been started. It only takes about four hours to take, but is still reversible at that point. I didn't know what to do. Father wanted her driven mad and planned to leave her wild as her punishment. I didn't like it… I couldn't do that to you. After Father died, I forced the doctor to stop the treatment and instead, make her peaceful and simple, not wild and violent. It took days to undo the damage Father inflicted on her and complete the new protocol. Unfortunately, because of the damage caused by the two processes, it isn't reversible– it was too traumatizing for her brain. She was a fighter and I thought she deserved peace. What Father planned would have inevitably killed her." Hopefully she bought that complete bullshit story. I wanted Amatis broken so she would stay the fuck out of my way, without having to kill her and alienate Clarissa. She'll learn to tolerate her aunt… her empathy for Amatis will win.

Jonathan smiled sympathetically at Clary and reached his hands higher up her leg, beneath her skirt. "I hope you understand that I had no choice. I know how much you love her." He stroked and squeezed her upper thighs, grazing her lace panties, and felt her shiver. Clary gasped and tried to get up and move. Jonathan tilted his head at her and shook it. "No, Clarissa. Stay here." He gripped her legs tighter and pulled her onto his lap. He felt his dick harden as she straddled him. God I love it when she tries to fight it. She's so easy to manipulate. He pulled her against his chest, pinning her slinged arm between them and pulled her head down to his. She struggled against him and turned her head, when he tried to kiss her. "Stop it, Jonathan. You just told me your evil bastard father and his goddamn doctors chemically lobotomized my aunt and now you want to make out? What are you fourteen? How could you let that happen, when you know how much she means to me? It's not even her anymore. She's like a fucking Stepford wife or something." She tried to get up and away from him, but he shook his head and held her against him. Feisty. Clary growled in frustration. "Jon, don't you see? Valentine took her away from me too. He fucking killed my parents— She may be alive, but that's not her! I have no one left. No family. Do you know how much that hurts?" Clary's eyes filled with tears and she hid her face against his shoulder, crying. Fuck. I hate it when she cries.

Jonathan wrapped her in his arms and rubbed his hands up and down her back, stroking her hair. They sat like that for a while. Jonathan loved being able to soothe his wife. He sighed when she finally relaxed against him. "I'm sorry about Amatis, love. I did my best to salvage what Valentine left of her. But, remember you have me, Clarissa. I'll never leave you, my sweet. I love you so much." Clary sniffed and pulled back. Her emerald eyes were red and she scoffed, as she looked down at him in frustration. That's right, look at me, Clarissa. He slid his hands around her hips, resting them on her backside. He made a point of looking at the portrait hanging above the fireplace behind her and then looked back to her with hurt in his eyes. Careful. "Do you ever wonder what it would have been like if Jocelyn had taken me with her, when she left Father? We could have grown up together. I– I could have been loved. We would have known each other; maybe even fallen in love on our own. I certainly wouldn't have become Seb— him. I wouldn't have hurt you– it's my greatest regret, Clarissa." I know she doesn't really love me. But I'll take what I can get from her. She frowned and ran her eyes over him and cupped his face in her hands. It seemed as if she were searching for something in his eyes. Jonathan stared back at her, hoping she found it. Love me, Clarissa. Please. Slowly, she nodded. "Yes, Jon. Of course I've thought about that. I wondered what she was keeping from me, over the years. It wasn't just Valentine and his atrocities… it was you, as well. You weren't hers, but you were for two years– she should have taken you too. You deserved a family, not that monster." She looked into his eyes and sighed. Was that sympathy he saw? I can work with that.

He closed his eyes and turned his face, kissing the palm of her hand, then looked up at her with hurt in his eyes. "That's all I've ever wanted. Family– to belong. You see, I do know how much that hurts, Clarissa. I know what it's like to have no one. No family. Yes, my father lived here and raised me, if you can call it that. But we were never a family. He took that from you and me as well." Clary hummed and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs, listening intently. Her eyes welling with more tears. I almost have her. Her empathy is always her downfall. She's too kind. Jonathan widened his grip on her buttocks, squeezing gently through her skirt. He looked sadly up at the painting again, then back to her, gazing lovingly into her eyes. "I only ever wanted the promise of that painting, Clarissa. To belong to a family. But all I got was a deranged madman. Then I met you and you were perfect. I loved you instantly–" Jonathan swallowed, letting his eyes shine with tears. Clarissa whimpered and shook her head. "I'm so sorry Jonathan. You didn't deserve any of that. He was so evil– and my mother shouldn't have... I– I'm so sorry." She suddenly pressed her lips to his, as his arms wrapped tightly around her. He turned them on the couch, laying her beneath him on a thick pillow, deepening their kiss and making sure to mind her broken arm. Got you. You're too tender-hearted for your own good, kitten.

He kissed down her jawline to her neck, quickly unbuttoning her blouse until it hung open beneath him, exposing her black lace bra. Jonathan's eyes widened appreciatively as he pulled back onto his knees, straddling her, and pulled his shirt over his head. Clary looked up at him with a strange look in her eyes. Fear? Confusion? He saw her expression change as if she had made a decision. She ran her eyes over his toned chest and blushed. Reaching forward with her left hand she ran her palm down his abdomen and bit her lip. She unsnapped the front of his jeans and pulled down his zipper. Oh shit. That lip bite… He leaned forward and unclasped Clary's bra, pulling it from her, and carefully sliding it, her sling and her blouse around her cast. He felt his arousal harden painfully as he looked down at her perfect, round breasts. He reached down and ran his hands across her chest, silently counting the freckles, as he squeezed her breasts. Clary gasped and arched her back, her nipples hardening beneath his touch. Jonathan sucked his lips into his mouth and hummed low in his throat. "I want you, Clary. Now… Please. Let me have you. Don't fight me this time." Don't make me force you, because I will. She sat up and leaned back on her elbows. She looked nervously down at his burgeoning arousal and reached her trembling hand out to stroke him through his open zipper. Fuck. He moaned and rocked his hips against her hand. She swallowed hard and looked up at him with lustful, yet tearful eyes. "Yes, Jonathan. Don't be rough." Finally, he much preferred his Clarissa to be willing. Jonathan smirked down at her. "Of course not, my darling."

Jonathan lowered himself on top of her, gently kissing and licking her nipples, sucking her pink nubs into his mouth. She's so fucking soft and I'm so hard. Clary moaned lightly and ran her hands through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp with her nails. Groaning, he reached his hand beneath her skirt, sliding it up and down her silken thigh. Slipping his hand into her lace underwear, he cupped and held her bare mound, rolling his thumb over her clit. She gasped and rolled her hips against him and his cock twitched. He slipped two fingers into her silken folds, pushing them deep into her tight wet core, continuing to circle his thumb over her clit. Her velvet muscles clenched around his fingers in excitement and she gasped. I'm going to cum before I'm even inside of her. Clary pulled his head up to her face and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, grinding against his sinful hand. "Oh my– god." She pushed his pants and boxers down with her feet as he pulled his fingers from her, ripping her underwear away. Kicking his pants all the way off, he pushed her skirt up around her waist and ground his bare erection against her hot, wet center. So hot and all mine.

Jonathan groaned and nuzzled Clary's neck, licking and sucking the sensitive flesh, marking her. I'm so fucking hard. He nudged her thighs further apart with his knees and positioned himself at her heated core, dipping the tip of his cock in and out of her teasingly. Clary began to pant and whimper with need and wrapped her legs around him. Is she getting impatient? Naughty girl. Jonathan pulled his head up from her neck and licked her lips, staring into her emerald eyes. Kissing her deeply, he pushed her arms over her head, gently holding them down, ever mindful of her cast. He dipped his cock shallowly into her wet heat, then pulled out. "Clarissa, I'm going to fuck your tight little pussy until you cum all over my cock. Is that okay with you, kitten?" Clary frowned, nodded and shivered, her whole body flushing a deep red. Jonathan knew she would respond to his filthy words… I love her little kinks.

Jonathan groaned and pushed himself inside of her, sinking to the hilt. It never ceased to amaze him how tight she was. How fucking good she felt around him. Clary moaned wantonly into his mouth and rolled her hips against him as he slowly began pumping in and out of her. He pushed his hips languidly against hers, relishing every quiver of her hot, silken sheath. "Oh god, Jon… faster." Fuck yes. Jonathan grinned against her mouth, kissing her over and over as he picked up his pace, stroking into her faster. Clary's velvet muscles suddenly clamped around him, as she climbed towards her peak. She's close. She arched her back and Jonathan felt her nipples grazing his chest, causing beautiful friction. Clary panted and rocked her hips up against him, meeting every thrust. He licked and nipped her neck, jawline, and lips, as he pumped harder into his wife, pulling tiny whimpers and high-pitched grunts from her. She feels so good. Clary screamed his name, as her pussy exploded deliciously around him. So goddamn tight.

Jonathan sighed heavily and buried his face against her breasts, pumping into her slowly, as he felt his lower abdomen tighten and his dick get impossibly harder. So painfully close. Jonathan quickly flipped them over, pulling Clary on top of him. She gasped and continued to pant and writhe against him, meeting his slow strokes, riding out the remnants of her orgasm. Jonathan licked and sucked her nipples, gripping her ass. He groaned and increased the tempo of his thrusts, her quivering depths drawing him closer and closer to his peak. Oh fuck. Jonathan roared against her chest, as he exploded deep inside of her. Moaning, Clary dropped her head to his shoulder while Jonathan continued to grunt and slowly stroke up into her, emptying himself and basking in the sensation of Clary quivering around him. Jonathan groaned, as his orgasm ebbed. He wrapped his arms around his whimpering wife and hugged her against him, kissing her. He reached up to the back of the couch, pulling the large throw over their naked bodies. Jonathan stroked her hair as she panted against him. "Say it, Clarissa. I need to hear it. You know this." He felt her stiffen, then sigh. Her voice was quiet and resigned. "I love you, Jonathan and I belong to you." Better. Or is she still pretending, like when Herondale was still alive? Well, he's dead now. I'll wear her down. He smiled and gently slid back into Clary as she gasped. "And I love you, Clarissa. We belong to each other." He pulled her face down to his and kissed her softly. Slowly, he began to gently thrust up into her, as he got harder and harder. She sighed and returned his kisses, her tight muscles quivered and tightened around him again. Interesting.

Jonathan leaned back on their bed, a towel wrapped around his waist from his shower. Clarissa had insisted on having her shower first. Alone. She had locked the door to the wardrobe and dressed in private as well. Jonathan had pouted. I love watching her dress. He carefully watched his wife tie her running shoes and stand up. They planned to workout lightly after lunch. Clary flicked her eyes at him nervously and looked down, before walking over to the mirror. She brushed her damp hair and Jonathan watched it curl and bounce down her back. She'd been too quiet since they made love in the state room after breakfast. She's nervous again. Pulling away. I wish she could relax with me, like she used to. She had succumbed to him… surrendered and willingly participated in their coupling. Might I say, even eagerly. Now she's back to her guilty persona… She acts as if we did something wrong. I tire of this game.

He walked up behind her and rested his chin on top of her head, placing his hands on her hips, he stared at her reflection. She wore a royal blue sports bra with matching yoga leggings. The top held her breasts tightly, showing a nice amount of cleavage. His eyes ran hungrily down her flat stomach and her curvaceous hips. He hummed and snapped his eyes up to her face. "I'm sorry, love, what did you say?" Clary stared back at him, obviously annoyed. "I said stop it, Jonathan. You have to give me breaks once in a while. You're–." She swallowed nervously. "Smothering me. Now. I'm going down to lunch by myself. I'll see you there. Okay?" She pulled away from him and slipped a black hoodie on. Jonathan pursed his lips and swiped up her arm sling before she could pick it up. He turned her around to face him and smirked at her, as he slowly zipped the front of her hoodie closed. She sighed heavily and turned her face away from him. He slipped her sling over her head and placed her casted arm inside of it, then kissed her forehead. "I'll see you soon, kitten." Clary spun around and quickly left the room. She's hiding something from me.

Jonathan walked down the main staircase. He had taken the long way to the dining room to give Clary time alone. Women. She had made it abundantly clear that he was coming on too strong, so he wanted her to think he respected that. Choose your battles. He walked across the great foyer towards the long hallway behind the dining room when he saw his old friend Matthew… with my wife. At the end of the hall stood Matthew with his hand placed on the wall beside Clary's head. She nodded up at him as Matthew whispered near her ear. Why is he so close to her… or speaking to her at all? He saw Matthew step back and take her left hand in his and quickly kiss it before hurrying further down the hallway. Clary wiped her hand over her face nervously and turned to enter the dining room. Jonathan narrowed his eyes and put his phone to his ear. "Pangborn. Find Matthew and put him in the basement. I need to– speak with him. Thank you." Jonathan walked down the hallway to excuse himself from lunch with his naughty wife, as he now had a lunch meeting with his old college chum. He ran his hand angrily through his hair and clenched his jaw. What are you up to, Clarissa? No matter. Jonathan put his phone to his ear again. "Pontmercy. I've decided to go forward with Clarissa's- treatment. Hmm... this afternoon. She's at lunch, so afterwards. Thank you." Doctor Pontmercy and I shall rectify this chronic disobedience from my wife. Much thanks to Amatis for teaching us how best to move forward with the mind conversion protocol. I tire of having to work so hard to make her realize where she belongs… Father had the right idea about Jocelyn.