Page 49 of Pieces (Cedar Lakes University #3)

Chapter forty-eight

Daphne

30-31 weeks

Hudson rushes beside me, holding my bag and my chocolate milkshake like some kind of overzealous bodyguard, while I walk next to him, feeling like the biggest pain in the ass.

“Okay,” I say, coming to a halt and trying to grab my bag from his hand. Of course, it’s useless; his grip might as well be iron. “I don’t need you to carry everything for me. Dr. Carter said things are looking good. It’s been weeks, Hudson. You need to let me carry my bag.”

He doesn’t even pause, doesn’t even glance back. “No.”

My jaw drops, and I stand there for a second, stunned, before scrambling to catch up. “No?” I practically squawk, the word bursting out of me. “What do you mean, no?”

Hudson finally glances at me, his expression infuriatingly unaffected. “No means no, Daph.”

My mouth opens, then closes. “I’m an independent woman.” I huff, my frustration mounting. “And you’re making me look like some spoiled princess. I hate it!”

Stopping abruptly, he spins to face me so quickly I almost bump into him. He towers over me, his gaze steady but soft in a way that takes the sting out of my irritation. “You’re not a spoiled princess,” he says firmly. “You’re my princess. There’s a difference.”

I blink up at him, caught between exasperation and butterflies. “Hudson…”

He cuts me off, leaning in just enough that his voice lowers, a teasing edge creeping into his tone. “And if you hate it so much, stop looking so damn cute when you’re all flustered and angry. Makes me want to carry your bag and you.”

I glare at him, but it’s weak, and he knows it. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I know,” he shoots back, grinning now as he starts walking again, my bag still firmly in his grip. “Better get used to it, princess.”

I let out a frustrated groan but follow after him anyway, secretly smiling when he’s not looking.

We make it back to my dorm, and he goes for a shower.

I check my phone, replying to Liv’s message:

Liv

Not long and I get to squish you and bubs. Are you excited for your baby shower? I ordered strippers for it. Love you!

I chuckle and type my reply.

Daphne

Ooo strippers, sounds like a good time. Can’t wait to see you soon! X

Then I bring up the family text thread.

Daphne

Hey, Doc says everything is looking good with baby and the placenta has moved so woooo!

Mom

Great news, honey xx

Finn

Growing babies seems like a lot of work. You’re smashing it sis

Dad

Anything I can do, let me know x

I smile at the messages, feeling content. After the scare of everything last month, my parents have both been doing regular welfare checks on me. Dad finds subtle ways to bump into me around campus. Mom pops in for coffee at Mug Life and insists I join her. Even Finn’s video calls have become more frequent, despite the time zone difference.

This feels familiar, the family dynamic I’ve always known and loved. Now, it’s blended with the new life Hudson and I are creating. Our friends have rallied around us in ways I never expected, and Hudson’s mom and Rory have eagerly been sending us name ideas too, but I think we’re set already.

Discarding my phone, I busy myself, fluffing pillows and shaking out blankets, setting up a little impromptu movie night for us, to say thank you for everything Hudson does for me, when he walks back in.

“Daphne Princess James,” Hudson cries, no shirt on, loose sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a towel slung around his neck. “Sit your fine ass down. I’ll get the snacks.”

My brain short-cuts at the sight of him, but still, I snort. “That’s not my middle name.”

He takes the snacks from my arms. “And these aren’t the snacks I want to be eating,” he says, his eyes flickering down to me in that way that makes my cheeks warm, “but here we are.”

I cross my arms, but the corners of my mouth betray me with the hint of a smirk. “I’m perfectly capable of grabbing my own snacks, Hudson. They aren’t heavy.”

“Don’t argue with me, or I’ll have to turn that peachy ass red.”

My face flushes beetroot red, tingling my skin. Oh my, that sounds…interesting. “You wouldn’t.”

His eyes darken as he steps toward me, swiping his tongue over his lower lip. “I wouldn’t what?”

Lifting my chin, I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me squirm. “You wouldn’t spank me.”

Suddenly, I’m very hot under the collar, and all the breath is vacating my lungs at an alarming rate. I almost choke on my tongue before I swallow. The very idea of his hand coming down hard on my skin sends a thrill so violent through my body I have to stop myself from shaking. Oh no, do I have a kink?

Hudson grumbles a laugh, and the sound vibrates through my core like a shock wave. His eyes glint with mischief as he steps closer, the bag of chips forgotten on the table. “Wouldn’t I?” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave. “You sound awfully sure of yourself, princess.”

I’m not sure if it’s his tone or the way his heated gaze lingers, but my tummy keeps flipping around and around. My tongue flicks over my suddenly dry lips as I fight to maintain some semblance of control. “I don’t… I’ve n-never even thought of that...”

“Oh, fuck, you being all innocent is turning me on more.” He groans, his grin wolfish now, like he’s savoring every second of my unraveling. His hand comes up to trace the color I know is covering my face, and goosebumps erupt all over me. “So beautiful,” he hums. “So innocent, yet you look like you’re waiting for me to make a move.”

My face burns even hotter, and I instinctively shift my weight back a little, but Hudson follows. The bed dips as he crawls toward me. He’s close enough now that the warmth radiating from him is suffocating in the best way. “Is that what you need, Daphne? You need me to spank you? To get you off with my hand until you’re too wrecked to argue back?”

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I manage, my voice more breathless than I’d like.

“I just found out my baby mama might have a kink, you bet I’m enjoying this.” Tilting his head, he studies me like I’m the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. “Or maybe I just like seeing you squirm, all flushed and out of that comfort zone of yours.”

My heart is hammering so hard it feels like it’s trying to escape my chest. “I’m not squirming,” I lie, though the tremble in my voice and body tells another story.

Hudson’s grin widens again, slow and predatory, and just when I think he’s going to lean back and let me breathe, his hand comes up again, this time to trace the curve of my bottom lip with his thumb. The touch is so deliberate, so light, that it sends another shiver racing down my spine. “You biting this,” he murmurs as his thumb gently tugs my lower lip down, exposing just a hint of my teeth. “You know that drives me crazy, right?”

Words have officially escaped me. My tongue flicks against the inside of my lip where his thumb just was, and his eyes turn molten.

“Hudson,” I start, but the word comes out like a plea instead of the warning I want it to be.

“You gonna tell me to stop?” He leans closer, his lips hovering near my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “Or are you going to admit you like this?”

“I don’t…” I stammer, my cheeks blazing hotter than ever, though I’m not sure if I’m denying him or myself.

I’m not sure what I want to say. Help me explore that kink, please? God, that sounds insane. Right? Then as though he’s read my mind he leans in, nipping my ear with his teeth, and I fold like a stack of cards. “Want to know what I think?”

My subtle nod is the only answer I can give.

“I think you want to ask me to spank you,” he murmurs into my skin. “But you’re too shy to say it out loud.”

My breathing falters, and he feels it. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

His hand slides down my spine, slow and teasing, fingers ghosting the curve of my ass. “Bet you’ve been thinking about how it’d feel,” he continues. “My hand on your skin. The sting, the heat. How you’d beg for me.”

My thighs press together.

“You’d like it, wouldn’t you?” he drawls, his palm soothing over me possessively. “For me to remind you who you belong to? And then after…” He pauses, lips curving wickedly against my neck. “I’d soothe you. The ache that you’d feel. Make you feel so good after. My handprint, my mouth”—his teeth scrape my pulse—“and my cock, until you’re begging for more.”

A wave of heat rushes through me, my body reacting faster than my mind can process. I’m in so much trouble with him. Sensations I’ve never felt with anyone else race through me at a speed I can’t control until I’m left panting, every nerve ending jolted alive. He owns me in ways I’m not even sure I fully understand. He sees me in ways I’m not sure I see myself. And I kind of like that he’s the only one.

“You know you’re the only guy I’ve ever…” my voice trails off, the weight of what I’m not saying hanging between us. “I mean, anything we do, I’m not that experienced.”

“Daphne, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?” His eyes bore into me as he talks.

I fidget under his stare, the intensity of it sending a warm, tingling rush through me. “I just don’t want you to feel like I’m not enough for you.”

He takes my hand, holding my gaze and softening. “You’re enough for me. You’re more than enough.”

My breath stutters.

He pauses for a second, those greens and golds swirling in a way that’s mesmerizing. “I’m in love with you, Daphne, have been for a while now. You are incredibly strong and beautiful and I’m the luckiest guy in the fucking world.”

His words carve themselves into the walls of my chest, leaving a mark that feels impossible to erase. It’s not just the words themselves; it’s the way he says them, like he’s not just talking about sex, but about me, about us. Like he’s claiming something deeper, something I didn’t even know I was searching for.

“I love you too, Hudson, and believe me, I’m the lucky one,” I whisper.

His hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over my jaw with a smile that breaks over his whole face. “Now listen to me, princess. You want to explore a kink? I’m your guy. You need to act out a fantasy? Hi, it’s me. You want me to make love to you? Say the word, and I’m yours. But there’s never, ever, going to be another man touching what’s mine.”

His hand drops, gripping my waist firmly, and his eyes lock onto mine with a fire that burns. “Now, turn over,” he growls, his voice dripping with dark intent. “I’m going to make you scream my name as I mark every inch of your ass.”