Denying Mr. Parks (The Parks #1)

by Lilly James

  “Hmm,” I managed to agree. My senses didn’t work when I was anticipating what he’d do.

  “If you feel uncomfortable at any time, a simple stop will do.” I nodded. “So do you want to be taught a lesson, Evelyn?”

  “Yes,” I said, catching his rumble of admiration and sensing his grin.

  The room was quiet but for my deepening breaths as Parks took hold of my ponytail. Wrapping the hair around his wrist, he then yanked my head back a little so he could speak against my throat. “Remember, you only speak when spoken to. Only make noise when told to, and you do not get to look at me. Understand?”

  “Yes.” I was becoming impatient because the anticipation was killing me.

  “Good.” Keeping hold of my hair, he ran the wet tip of his tongue along the side of my neck ever so lightly, and Jesus, did my sex tingle. But I didn’t make a sound until he opened his mouth a touch and bit down onto my skin, which he then gently nibbled. The slightest groan left my mouth, and I gained my first spank of the night. Slap. His free hand left a sting on my cheek in its wake.

  “Obedience, Evelyn,” he breathed, releasing my hair to stand behind me. Grabbing at my hips, he ordered me to bend over so I was resting forwards on the desk with my elbows. He groaned as he caressed my arse with both hands. “Such a sexy, full rear.” He slipped his finger straight between my crack and all the way down the opening. As I chewed my bottom lip to keep in sounds, my lids went heavy and my arse and sex tightened, both aching for attention. He slid his fingers down my anus until he met the entrance of my sex. My head bowed down, and I rested my forehead on the desk. My body begged him for more, yet my voice stayed mute.

  Circling my entrance with two fingers, he spoke in a husky tone. “Hmm. I love how wet you are, Evelyn. You’re turned on more than you think by this.”

  I was; he was right. His hands on me alone made my sex slick, but for some reason I felt dirty for wanting it. I’d never done anything like this before and was confused why I felt it was wrong when it felt right. Then again, wrong things in life always felt right to me. I waited for his fingers to slide into my core, but instead, he pulled away. His breathing patterns changed, and I felt his demeanour switch behind me, giving me reason to think this was something he thrived on. I clenched my eyes shut as I felt his hand rise again and got ready for it. It came down like a red-hot sting against my arse. Hard. Leaving a burning impression. My eyes flew open from the unexpected feeling of heat it left and from how much my stomach tightened from the sensation. Parks then struck my other cheek harder than the first, and I gripped the edge of the desk, biting down on my lip to suppress a yelp.

  “Remind yourself why you want this, Evelyn.” Parks gave me another harsh slap, but he was so quiet. I clenched my eyes shut and balled my hands into fists, thinking of why I needed this punishment. Drinking. Drug-taking. Pushing people away. Causing pain and heartache. For lying and deceiving. I should get punished for those things, shouldn’t I? I deserved it. I had to be punished for my wrongs. And I had done so many.

  After a few more slaps, I learned his pattern. He would spank each cheek, rub, and repeat. His breathing was also getting louder, ragged from enjoyment.

  “Hmm,” he groaned as he slapped my right cheek. The pain was starting to increase to an unstable height, and the next spank was excruciating.

  “Stop!” I yelled.

  Parks turned me around and held me at length by my shoulders with a dark, satirical look in his eyes.

  “Had enough?” he asked, his chest heaving from exertion.

  I pushed him away aggressively and glared at him. I was shocked, confused, and dealing with a stinging, raw, red arse. I kept asking myself: Did I feel better? Did I feel I’d repented from my sins? Not quite. But almost. Only now I was filled with something else. Hate towards myself for wanting his punishment, a little hate towards him for doing it to me, and confusion about why I actually enjoyed it. I was overwhelmed, hurt, and…half-satisfied.

  “More,” I demanded, looking away from him.

  “Evelyn, I—”

  “Please,” I begged. “Please let me forget.”

  His eyes came back to life at my unusual beseeching, and he wasn’t withdrawn any longer. I could see he was hiding pain behind his eyes, but he tried to shrug it off. “Your backside is sore, Evelyn. No more.”

  “I’m asking you to,” I pleaded.

  “It will be painful, and I am not prepared to hurt you.” He sighed. “Come to my bedroom. I’ll sooth the pain.” Leaving no room for discussion or argument, he took my hand in a firm grasp and led the way.

  I was positive he knew I had a deep, hidden reason for why I asked to be punished. The way he looked at me made me think he hated himself for giving in because he knew my motive wasn’t just curiosity.

  “Take your clothes off, Evelyn,” he ordered, when we got to the bedroom, disappearing into the en suite. When he returned he had a white towel in one hand and baby oil in the other. He frowned rudely at my jumper. “You’re still dressed.”

  I stared back at him in complete bewilderment. He just punished my body and he wanted to act like nothing happened? Never mind that, I was not getting naked in front of him. “So that’s it? We don’t talk about it? Nothing?”

  “My actions were clear, Evelyn. You misbehave, I will punish you. Simple. Yours, however, are not clear. You asked me to make you forget. Forget what, exactly?”

  I turned away from his questioning, wrapping my arms around myself. “It’s nothing. I should leave.”

  He quickly took hold of me. “Don’t leave. Let me sooth the pain. Even if I only accomplish it on the outside.”

  I was taken aback by his remark, and my hard swallow proved it. “Even if I only accomplish it on the outside.” The outside of me was the only thing anybody got to see, anyway. That would never change.

  “Come, lie down.” He nudged his head towards the bed, trying to entice me. My bottom was sore and stinging, and having some oil rubbed on it sounded welcoming.

  “Okay. Then I’ll leave.”

  His jaw clicked. “As you wish.”

  As I climbed onto the bed, I noticed the music had changed. Again it was “Stay with Me.” I wondered whether he was just fond of the song or if it had actual meaning.

  He slipped off his black shirt and shoes and undid his jeans. Soon, he was only wearing black briefs. “Evelyn, I cannot perform a full-body massage when you’re still wearing your pullover.”

  I panicked inside again but acted collected and calm. “I thought it was just my bum you were doing?”

  He shook his head, looking exasperated. “You think I could just touch your beautiful butt and not the rest of you?”

  I tried to come up with something quick. “Could you just massage the back of me?”

  A frown line creased his forehead, but his shoulders relaxed. “Fine.”

  I turned my whole body away from him, quickly took off my jumper, and laid across the bed so he couldn’t see anything apart from my back. The bed dipped as he climbed on and settled over my body, his legs straddling mine as he crouched just above them. “It would be such a damn shame if a stunning woman such as yourself had a body-confidence issue as well as an inferiority complex.”

  I rested my chin on my hands. “I…I hardly know you, that’s all.”

  He paused. “But you will let me spank you?”

  “That was for my benefit. I asked you to.”

  He unclasped my bra, carefully slid the straps down my shoulders, and tapped my arms gently so I would sit up and slide it off, then he pushed my hair aside when I laid back down. With my hair out of the way, I relaxed a little and got ready for a massage, but then he stilled his hands at my nape. He’d seen my tattoo. I stiffened quickly because of what it meant but then relaxed. My vertical line tattoo—that started at the back of my nape and ended just below my spine—was written in Hebrew, and I knew he wouldn’t understand it.

  “Can I request that you don’t mark your beautiful body
with any more of these?”

  I knew he would have something to say. “No, you can’t.”

  I could tell he didn’t like that, but he changed the subject. “Are you going to tell me why you insisted on punishment tonight?”

  “I was curious. I told you,” I said point-blank, hoping he would drop it. I heard him squirt the oil into his hands and rub his palms together.

  “And did it feed your curiosity? Or are you still hungry?” Softly he placed his palms onto each of my arse cheeks and began to gently smooth the oil into the sting.

  “The jury’s still out on that one,” I murmured as my eyes closed. His hands softly kneading my backside felt divine.

  “Very fitting.” I knew from his deepened breathing and his unavoidable hardened length pressing against my backside that he was as aroused as I was. He squirted more oil onto my body and worked his way slowly up my back, moulding into every curve. “Such beautiful skin,” he coaxed, sensually kneading all the right places with his knuckles. He then moved his hands onto my sides and gently skimmed the sides of my breasts with his fingertips, making them swell. But even then, I would not turn around. Even though I envisioned myself doing it and letting him caress my naked body, it would never be a possibility.

  It felt so good, so relaxing and erotic. The way he was taking his time. The way he seemed to enjoy every second of it. The way he wanted to make me feel. I could have stayed there forever.

  When he covered my entire back with oil, he shimmied down and began working the backs of my legs. He skated his fingers over the curves of my bum, then slipped his fingers lower. That was when it became more sensual. My breaths became shallow whilst he caressed the backs of my thighs. I almost wanted to urge them into my hidden places. As if he’d read my mind, he brushed his fingertips over my backside until he stopped just outside my anal entrance. As he oiled me up and down, I hid my face in the pillow and hummed my satisfaction. I was slick from oil, and I knew what he intended to do.

  “Do you want my fingers inside you, Evelyn?”

  I didn’t know why he asked, because he was going to do it anyway. He always seemed to know my body so well, knew exactly what it demanded. For some reason, my body submitted to him when he was around, and until he was gone, I couldn’t break the spell no matter how hard I tried.

  I nodded, not being able to actually ask for something, and he made a throaty hum. He eased his finger into my back passage ever so gently. Although it was crazy hot, the movement still felt foreign to me, and I clawed at the pillow my face was buried in.

  “Tell me you like that, Evelyn.”

  “Hmm,” I moaned languidly and thrust my hips up a little so my backside would meet his index finger. He got the point, of course he did, and penetrated my anus deeper but kept the thrust slow.

  “Oh God.” I bit into the pillow as he began pulling out and pushing in at a leisurely pace.

  “More?” Parks asked, teasing me with the feeling of such fullness. I nodded again. Keeping his finger deep inside me, he rubbed my clit in a lazy circle with his other hand. And fuck, did that feel pleasurably intense. His penetrating finger and the languid strokes he was giving my clit with the tip of another finger sent my body into a frenzied state. Sweat drops scattered over my skin, and my arousal built, my hips circulating to meet his touch. I needed that build to come.

  And it did.

  “Wade.” I cried his name into the pillow. My hole clamped around his finger as my sex pumped out my orgasm, and I wanted more. He growled from the use of his name, and in the midst of pleasure, my mouth got carried away. “Fuck me, Wade.”

  He growled again, loving my demand, and brushed my entrance with the head of his cock.

  “Up.” His dominating side had come out to play and with it my submissive. I scrambled to my knees as he grabbed hold of my hips and abruptly pulled me back onto his waiting erection. He slid in easily from how wet he’d made me, but the feel of something so big, bigger than I was ever used to, didn’t seem real.

  “Jesus, you’re so fucking snug.” He dug his fingers into my hips and rolled his pelvis around, staying tucked inside me. My arse was in the air, my face buried in the pillow, and my knees were trembling. He was pounding into me, pulling my hips back ferociously on each drive to meet his cock. I whimpered and moaned uncontrollably with each thrust. He fucked me so deep, so hard, so fast, and so relentlessly it was almost painful, yet it was too pleasurably wild to tell him to stop.

  “Fuck me. Evelyn, you feel insane.” His cock pulsed inside me, then I vaguely heard his breathing speed up as he began hammering into me more vigorously. He was going to come, and I couldn’t have welcomed it more.

  “Ah, Christ. I’m gonna come so hard,” he growled. “When I do, then so do you.” With a rub of his fingers against my clit, he slammed into me once more, and his fluids filled me nonstop. I came with him, sobbing out his name, clutching at the sheets.

  “Wade.” I clawed, I bit, and my vision went black.

  “That’s it, Evelyn, take it all,” he demanded. And I did. All of him.

  My body was lifeless when we finished, and I felt extremely light-headed. I didn’t want to move for another year. I collapsed onto the bed, chest heaving.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, falling beside me and doing the same.

  I remained on my stomach but turned my head to face him, gasping. “I don’t think I can walk after that.”

  I saw his smirk, heard his breathless chuckle, and Jesus, it was sexy. “You will never be able to walk straight after sex with me, Evelyn.”

  I shook my head, exasperated at his ego, but I was too worn out to bite back. We laid in silence for a while. The only lights that shadowed our bodies were those of London glowing through the windows. Neither of us moved nor spoke. I could have fallen straight to sleep, but when Parks leaned over and planted soft kisses on my bare shoulder, I knew I had to move. I shimmied across the bed, reached down for my jumper, and quickly slipped it on with my back to him. When I turned to get up, I didn’t mean to look at him, but I saw him in the corner of my eye and did a double take. It was excruciatingly difficult to pull my eyes away from the epitome of raw, toned, naked manliness, and he was still semi-hard. He ran a hand through his dishevelled, dark locks and sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

  “You’re leaving.”

  “I can’t stay with you. This”—I gestured at the space between us—”is nothing. We have nothing. I need to leave. Right now.” I almost ran into his office to collect my knickers and jeans, wanting to leave before my emotions got the better of me. I stepped into my jeans quickly, zipped them up, and stuffed my underwear into the pocket.

  “What are you scared of?” he yelled at me as I reached the front door. I stayed with my back to him, my hand hovering over the handle.

  “Nothing. I’m scared of nothing.”

  He exhaled, sounding exhausted. He was frustrated at how much I shut him out. So maybe he would give up trying?

  “Let me give you a ride home. Stay there. I’ll be right back.”

  My shoulders sagged. I let the door handle go and waited until he put some clothes on.

  ***

  When we were settled in his Jaguar, he drove me to my flat in silence. But my eyes kept looking at Parks in his black joggers and a tank top. Obviously he was going to work out after he dropped me home, but damn, he looked delectable, and I couldn’t help wanting to reach over and feel exactly what I knew hung low underneath his joggers. But I was too numb to talk.

  “You know,” he finally spoke, driving with one hand on the wheel, rubbing at his jaw with the other, “my mother once told me fear is what keeps people worried about the past and even more scared about the future.”

  My gaze drifted foggily to his. Both his point and the fact he’d brought up his mother alarmed me. He then glanced over to me as he came to a stop outside my flat. His green eyes were glazed, his voice soft. “Fear traps people, Evelyn, because it is a threat that seems unbeatable. But only
when you become fearless can you conquer your dreams.”

  I inhaled quickly to chase away the lump in my throat and shifted away from him as I unbuckled my seat belt. “I told you, I fear nothing.”

  But he wasn’t giving up that easily, and neither did he believe me. “Not even the dark?”

  I closed my eyes whilst I swallowed down another lump. Not even Steph or Cheryl spoke to me this way. Yet here was a mere stranger trying to delve into my soul. I couldn’t understand it. And I didn’t understand why I spoke to him, either. Did I find some sort of solace in Wade Parks?

  “It’s not the dark I’m scared of.” I glanced up at my reflection in the overhead mirror and scowled. I was scared of myself because I was my own worst enemy.

  “Then what?” He covered my hand warmly with his own, and I welcomed it for a second, then pulled it away.

  “I have to go. Thanks, I guess.”

  “For what, exactly?”

  I shrugged and smiled cryptically. “The ride home.”

  He stared at me like my face was a puzzle he couldn’t find the missing piece to. He cupped my cheek with his hand and traced my bottom lip with his thumb. “You’re a beautiful woman, Evelyn. One day, you will fully be mine.”

  “Fully?” I was confused.

  “Yes. I have your body. Now all I need is your mind.”

  I laughed at his audacity. “You will never get my mind, and you do not have my body.”

  “I think your pus…sweetness would put that answer to shame.”

  “Why do you call it that?”

  He smirked unashamedly. “Yours isn’t just a pussy to me. It’s my sweetness, and I do not—I repeat, do not—want you putting what’s mine anywhere else. Understand?”

  “Excuse me? You don’t get to tell me where and when I get to use my…” I couldn’t say it. “You-know-what. Understand that.” I went to scramble out of the car, but he beat me to it and opened the door for me, then stood in my way.