“I’m not going to hurt her but she needs rules, discipline. Look at her, Hud. Look at her face, look at her breathing.”
It was unnerving to have Hudson put a knee on the bed, mattress sinking under his weight, and have him staring at her while Ian held her down. What was he looking at anyway? She wasn’t anything at all to look at, she knew.
* * *
Hudson
Dilated pupils in her amber eyes, her chest rising and falling more slowly than it had when he’d woken up because Cosy had been breathing too hard. It was difficult to tell without having her under his hands but she looked more relaxed too, like her muscles had released some of their tension.
Well, shit. Ian was right. Not that that should be surprising because Ian was a good top, but Hudson would’ve never gone there. Not this fast anyway. It still made him wary because Cosy had clearly been through a lot and maybe couldn’t tell the difference between kink and abuse, but if being dominated and threatened with discipline made her calm, who was he to argue?
“Fine. But she’s being a good girl now so I think some praise is in order.”
“You’re right,” Ian agreed, and turned his attention to Cosy whose cheeks had gone bright pink. Hopefully not from fever. That was something Eric had told them to watch out for, because she could develop an infection and they might not be able to see the source.
“There,” Ian said, cupping her cheek and pressing a kiss to her temple as she flushed from her hairline to her chest and looked like a cornered wild animal. “There you go. That’s a good, obedient girl.”
Cosy’s gaze still darted around like she expected to be attacked or yelled at any second but she seemed to relax again when she realized Ian wasn’t going to hurt her—unless he suffocated her with affection and praise, anyway. She even turned her face toward his friend. When he cooed at her for being a sweet little thing, Hudson thought her deeper flush might have been a sign of pleasure.
He could watch Ian loving on that sweet little girl all day—although at some point he hoped she wouldn’t be so alarmed by affection, by being touched and kissed and snuggled and petted. That he’d be able to raise a hand and she’d expect a caress instead of a slap. But for now he had a responsibility to her and he’d fulfill it.
When he got back from the nursery, Cosy was snuggled into Ian’s side with her head on his chest and her eyes closed. Ian held a finger to his lips when he noticed Hudson was back. Poor little thing was asleep again.
She could sleep as long as she liked. Eric had said she’d probably spend more time asleep than awake while her body worked on healing itself, but he didn’t want her to have an accident. Given that everything seemed to spark shame in his teapot, she would be humiliated if she wet the bed even if he and Ian wouldn’t give a shit.
He peeled the blankets back and winced again at her sallow skin and the bruises that covered much of her body. Too thin, she was far too thin—bones shouldn’t be so close to the surface like that, not the way they nearly poked out of her skin. Hudson wanted to be sick at what had been done to her but he couldn’t. Not right now, not when she might wake up and see.
As far as Cosy was concerned, he thought she was beautiful and perfect. Because she was. If after all the care in the world she still looked like this, then she did and he’d love and cherish and adore her all the same, believe with his whole heart she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. But he wanted to straight up murder the fucker who’d done this to her. Nah, murder was too good for that piece of shit. He’d hand him over to Ryker and that sadistic bastard would think of some truly gruesome shit to put that motherfucker through.
Hudson shook his head and concentrated on the job at hand, shifting Cosy’s narrow hips so he could take off her sleep shorts to slide the diaper between her legs, fasten the tabs, and tug her shorts back on. She stirred but didn’t fully wake, and as soon as he was done, he covered her back up with the blankets so she wouldn’t be cold.