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The worst part was that she was goddamn adorable and sweet as pie and he wanted her under his control and in his hands so badly he could taste it. But he wasn’t the man for her. Not if the “punishments” Hudson and Ian meted out that made her weep and carry on were any indication of what she could take. No. He would rip her to shreds and Hudson and Ian would never forgive him so it would be better to stay away.

Away from her big amber eyes, away from her flushed cheeks, away from her breasts that were filling out now that she was eating properly, away from that lush mouth. Away from her shy smiles, away from her beautiful and willing submission, away from her stubborn bravery, away from her scarred but blooming body.

Here, though? Now? He could find someone who was interested in a good thrashing and not much more than that, and he’d be able to exorcise some demons—hopefully not while picturing Cosima the entire time. That wouldn’t be fair to his play partner.

He needed to find someone to play with before the others came downstairs, lose himself before he got distracted by her, and start beating the hell out of some willing woman who he would like well enough and take reasonable care of but whom he’d never ever love or even be in danger of getting sucked into that soul-sucking quagmire of emotion.

* * *

Hudson

Coco sat on his lap while Ian…read a story wasn’t accurate. It was more like an elaborate and deranged burlesque puppet show. And the littles fucking loved it. Especially the little girl in his lap.

She kept laughing so hard her paci would come tumbling out of her mouth. When she’d stopped laughing, she’d tuck it between her lips again so she could suckle—especially during the anxious bits—and then lather rinse repeat. It was adorable.

Ian finished telling the bonkers absolutely not-canon spin-off story of Tinkerbell, and the entire room erupted in cheers and applause. Because his partner was a ham, he stood and took several bows but at least he didn’t commit to an encore. They’d agreed after the story they’d take Coco out to the big room, let her play with whomever and whatever she wanted, and when she was worn out from all the excitement, they’d take her upstairs and put her to bed.

So far she was having a really good time and he couldn’t wait to bring her back again. She’d been able to do some arts and crafts with Sable, and she’d watched Saoirse get turned over Arthur’s lap and get a good hard spanking. She’d seen Doctor Eric too. It was a whole new world, and just a floor away from where she lived.

Cosy had been clingy but curious for the half-hour they’d walked around before heading to the nursery for story time. She’d either been wrapped around him like a limpet or tucked under Ian’s arm the entire time but she’d said hello when introduced to people and even gave Sable a hug. It was better than he could’ve hoped for. He called it a win when she’daskedif she could come down to the club, never mind actually setting foot inside.

“Alright, teapot. You ready to go out to the big room for a little bit? Or are you tuckered out and just want to go to bed?”

From the way her eyes shone when she turned toward him, he knew it wouldn’t be the latter.

“Big room, please, Daddy.”

“You got it. I think you and I can go while Papa greets his adoring fans unless you wanted to wait.”

“Can go now. Don’t need to wait for Papa. He talks too much.”

Hudson laughed as he stood his little girl on her feet and then came to standing himself. Without them asking her to or even making the suggestion, Cosy had been slipping into some little-speak occasionally—incomplete sentences, singsong tone, that sort of thing. It was too fucking cute and a mark, he thought, of how comfortable she’d become with them and with being their little girl, as well as what a good fit it was for her.

He made eye contact with Ian and gestured that they’d be outside and Ian gave a thumbs up that Cosy returned in their little secret handshake. So freaking cute.

“Can you walk or do you need Daddy to carry you?”

“I can do it,” she said and then set her mouth in that stubborn line.

“Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.”

She nodded and then he tucked her under his arm to guide her out to the big room where there was all sorts of play going on.

Hudson loved when the club was busy. The sights, the sounds, the smells, the energy. It all came together to say that what he and Ian and Ryker had built in an old warehouse was a success. They’d created a community where people felt free to be themselves. Yep, people let their freak flags fly damn high here.

There was some needle play in one corner, rough body play in another. A bunch of spanking happening over benches and laps, floggings and other impact play happening on St. Andrews crosses. It was all music to his ears.

He kept a close eye on Cosy, making sure nothing she saw was upsetting her. She was wide-eyed but not fearful. She still had bad dreams—and might for the rest of her life—but mostly he thought over the past few months she’d come to understand that while the context of what had happened to her was very very wrong, her desire for and enjoyment of similar acts wasn’t bad at all, and could be delivered with love and care.

And she loved being little which she’d never been able to do with that fucker. Hudson was glad something so vulnerable hadn’t been tainted by that piece of shit, that he and Ian had their babygirl all to themselves. The only thing that would be better is if Ryker would stop being such an ass.

Sure, Hudson could be patient but there was also such a thing as being too patient. If Ryker had slowly been opening up to Cosy, spending more time with her or even asking about her more he wouldn’t have been so concerned. Would’ve just let it ride, let Ryker do things in his own sweet Ryker time. But as it was, one of his best friends and partners seemed intent on keeping his walls up. Those habits could become cemented and Cosy wouldn’t stand a chance. Ryker needed to at least give her a chance.

Suddenly he felt Cosy gasp rather than heard her. The sharp intake of breath shook her shoulders and expanded her ribcage like a balloon. What—

His sweet little girl was tugging on his shirt, her luminous eyes rimmed with tears. “Go home now, Daddy, please? Please?”

“Sure, babygirl. What—”


Tags: Honey Meyer Erotic