by Lilly James
He turned up the music system to drown out my voice, so I ended up screaming over Maroon 5’s “Animals.” I knew his plan was to take me back to Steph’s as that was the direction we were heading, so I decided to bide my time and not waste my breath until we arrived.
A few minutes later, Parks slammed on the brakes outside my flat, threw off his seat belt, and quickly clambered out of the car. I knew he was going to drive away and turn his back on me the moment I got out, and knowing this sent me out of my damn mind because I had no idea when I was going to see him again. I couldn’t be apart from him. My mind couldn’t function when he wasn’t around. If I had to act reckless to get him to be with me, I was more than willing.
As soon as he opened the passenger-side door, I stayed put and childishly crossed my arms. Parks gritted his teeth. “Evelyn, get out of the car.”
Instead of arguing, I stepped out and into his space and spat out words I knew would rattle him. “You know I fucked Travie in that parlour? Right on the tattoo bed. He was the first person I ever fucked.”
Shit. What had I done? Me and my big, reckless mouth.
His nostrils flared as he stared at me, hard and mercilessly and rolled his shoulders back as if to ease tension, but none was eased. Parks grabbed my wrist and pulled me along until we were standing outside the door, then he turned to me, showing me the relentless austerity in his thickly lashed eyes.
“Open the damn door. Because now I am going to give you something to fucking hate me for.”
I gulped, quickly put the key into the keyhole, and stumbled through the door and into the hallway. Parks smacked into me, his hands tearing through my hair, then he gripped at it by the roots on a low growl.
“Your body is all mine. Understand?”
He turned me around, so I kissed him, groaning loudly into his mouth, then bit down onto his bottom lip and pulled it with my teeth. Instead of bothering him, it made him even more insatiable. He wrapped my hair around his wrist and yanked my head back, giving him easier access to my neck, which he nipped and licked deeply. I couldn’t ignore the dampness gathering between my legs, or the way my skin heated up. I was hot for him. He was scorching hot for me. In the back of my mind, I realised we were kissing the heck out of each other in my hallway and I wasn’t sure if Steph was in or not. I pushed myself out of his grip, walked backwards into the living room, and quickly glanced around for Steph. No sign of her. Hallelujah.
“How is fucking me going to make me hate you more?” I breathed, walking backwards slowly, making him follow me until the backs of my legs hit the arm of the sofa.
Parks’s eyes cut into me fiercely as he neared, the rage in them brewing, the lust fulfilling and overtaking him. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll wish you never told me about Travie. That’s what I’m going to do.” He lunged forwards, his hard chest colliding into my breasts as his lips covered the whole of mine. His tongue swept in and aggressively claimed me. I moaned, just about to touch that Adonis-like body, but he wouldn’t let me. He took hold of my hands and pushed me down onto the sofa so roughly, it took my breath away. Propping up on my elbows, I watched as Parks knelt in front of me. Quickly, he yanked my jeans off along with my knickers.
“These jeans are going in the trash.” He got to his feet, rolled up the jeans, and threw them into the bin. When he came back to me, he knelt between my legs, took hold of my knees, and pushed them apart. Wide. Exposing my wet state. His greedy, green eyes roamed over my sex, then closed as he deeply inhaled. He rolled his head back a touch before he opened them again. “This is mine,” he growled, running his fingers along my moisture, smearing the wetness that had pooled the moment I clasped eyes upon him.
“Then show me it’s yours.” I was panting, heavily anticipating what was to come.
Parks’s gaze dropped from mine to his fingers, then he plunged them into me, hard, fast, and masterful.
“God,” I heaved out breathlessly as I arched from the sofa. His fingers dived in and out, his anger seeping through in his action. I moved forwards, caught his hair between my fingers, and yanked him up my body. Taking his lips, I plunged my tongue into his delicious mouth and fought against his. His fingers hurled into my sex, opening me, feeling me. Then he pulled them away just as I was about to come.
“Why don’t you show me how much you fucking hate me?” he growled, whipping off my tank top and grabbing at my breasts. I scrambled to sit up, clumsily pushed his suit jacket from his shoulders, then pulled him into me by his tie.
Expertly, he unfastened my bra and latched on to one of my nipples with his mouth. My back bowed as I pushed into his lips. The second he moved away, I ripped open his shirt, sending the buttons scattering. I needed his defined and hard body under my palms, and our own desperate urgency to unravel and undress each other was primal.
“I can’t hate you. I can only ever love you. Because that’s what you deserve. Tell me you still love me.” He wanted to be told I hated him because he thought that’s what he deserved, but I needed his approval and reassurance that he still loved me.
He shook his head and groaned as he kissed me deeply. He was tormented with desire. Any fool could see how much he craved my body. How much he needed me too. Words were what I needed, though.
“Princess, you know how much how I love you. But you’re the one who needs to be loved. And I will love you. I will love you soft, hard, fierce, angry. I will love you every way there is to be loved. But right now I want to love you hard. Fuck you hard.”
He was initiating the rough sex to draw out his anger, towards me and himself. I was now the one enjoying the delicious physical pain but hating the mental pain.
Parks shoved down his trousers and boxers in one movement. His cock was thick, throbbing, and the sight made me whimper.
“My cock has been aching for your sweetness. Aching to fuck that sweet body of yours. A body that belongs to me.”
I agreed. I was his. Entirely.
He pushed me down so I was lying across the sofa and climbed on top of me, hovering over me with his length in his palm. The muscles in his stomach were pronounced in the position, seeming even tighter than they were. His dark hair was a dishevelled delight, and I wanted to rake my hands through it as he fucked me into oblivion.
“Fuck me hard,” I breathed. “But love me harder.” He could take my body as hard he wished. It was his to do with as he pleased. But I needed to be loved even harder. He needed to not only please my body but also reassure my mind.
“Oh, Princess.” He heaved out his pain, threw himself on top of me, and in one brutal thrust, he filled me so suddenly I cried out in shock. Of course I knew how big he was, but it was always an immense pleasure to feel and for my body to adjust to and take.
His thrusts were hard, rapid, and thoughtless. Instead of being precise and controlled, he was fucking me senseless. His mind was lost in the pleasure.
“You make me lose my goddamn mind,” he grunted as my body finally gained a rhythm with his.
“And you’ve made me lose mine,” I wailed, my fingernails digging into his back as he buried his face into my neck.
“I need this harder,” he hissed into my ear, pounding into me. “I can feel your sweetness clench around my cock. I hear your moans. Now I need to feel the pain.” He sat back without sliding out of me and pulled my legs up to rest my ankles on his shoulders.
Parks drove into me harder, making me swear and cry out. My fingers clawed deep into his back, cutting him. He wanted pain, and my aim was to make him bleed.
“Ah. Yes,” he hissed, accepting and loving the pain I was inflicting. The position he put me in physically had me screaming out his name again and again. It felt like his cock was mine. He felt like he was mine. And I was his. My mind was overloaded with a relentless mix of emotions I shouldn’t have been thinking of whilst having sex. As he took my body to that place where I belonged, I thought about how much I missed him. Missed the intimacy. I worried about him leaving me again after sex
and at the same time wondered if digging my nails into him would hurt him in the way he wanted. But I hated myself for hurting him just because he wanted to me to.
“Tell me how much you fucking hate me for leaving you,” he snarled as I was gasping for breath. I raked my nails up his back and into his hair. I yanked down his head by pulling fiercely on his hair so his lips were in line with mine, then kissed him until I couldn’t breathe.
“Make me,” I challenged. If hearing how much I hated his arrogant arse for leaving me would make him feel better, then he would have to fuck it out of me.
He pinned my wrists above my head, and his cock stilled inside me. The green eyes I loved the instant they hit me when I introduced myself in his office were the same ones I loved, but they were fierce now. Brimming with love, lust, and self-hate.
He kept my wrists pinned with one hand whilst he moved the other around to my arse and gave it a hard slap. I yelped but instantly desired more. He slapped my arse again, harder, leaving a blazing sting that had me wincing. The pain turned into anger for a second, so I pulled my hands from his grip and slapped his face. The impact sent his head to the side. His eyes closed, and he inhaled before turning back to me and giving me another slap. It hurt and it made me hate him if only for a second, and making me hate him was exactly what he was aiming for.
After I took another slap, I scrammed along his jaw, making him hiss, so he pinned my hands above my head. I was now panting, gasping for breath, all because I was excited and turned the hell on.
Wriggling a little, I tried to free my hands from his grip, but it was useless. He was too strong for me. I couldn’t move, so I stopped wriggling, glanced into Parks’s eyes, and saw how tranced out he seemed to be.
“Don’t,” he roared, slamming forwards into me. I cried out his name over and over until he was pounding so hard, the air dispersed from my lungs, making it difficult to breathe, let alone speak.
He wouldn’t stop. Sweat was dripping off our bodies. So hot. So engrossed. Neither of us wanting to relent.
“Wade.” I tried to catch a breath, but my words were coming out short and breathless. “I can never say I hate you. Give it up.”
“No,” he roared, “I deserve to have your hate.” He continued to drive, but I couldn’t enjoy it anymore because all I kept thinking about was how much I wanted to take him into my arms and tell him everything would be all right.
“Let go of my hands,” I heaved out, trying to get free, but I couldn’t budge. He wouldn’t listen. It was like he couldn’t hear my voice. “I said let go,” I yelled, loud and serious. He took one look at me, knew I meant it, and released my hands in an instant.
I quickly unhooked my legs from his shoulders, took his head into my hands, and pulled him into me. “Stop this,” I wheezed, rubbing my nose along his. “You deserve my love. And you have that. That’s what you deserve, Wade; my love. Please, take it.”
“Fuck.” His neck arched and jaw strained as he came inside me, heavy, deep, and delicious. Parks was endlessly beautiful to me. Especially when he came undone.
“I need to prove it to you,” he breathed into my ear. “I need to earn your love.”
I held him close, snaking my arms around his neck. “You already have.”
Parks pressed his forehead against my lips. “Not yet. I have to prove to you that I can be the man you need.”
“Wade.” I screamed his name because he wasn’t getting it and shifted beneath him. “You are the fucking man I need. Why are you not seeing this?”
He kissed my lips, his forehead pressed against mine. “Let me prove it. You want words. I’ll give you words.”
I pushed him off me, picked up my t-shirt, and pulled it over my body. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ll see.” He climbed from the sofa and scooped up his shirt. I quickly realized what he was about to do, so I snatched it from his hands.
“Evelyn,” he warned, “give me my shirt.”
Like hell. “No.” I moved away from him and across the living room. “You’re going to leave, and I need answers.”
Parks pulled up his boxers, followed by his trousers, then he glanced at the shirt in my hands. I knew he was about to dart at me, so ran I into the bedroom.
“Evelyn, don’t make me chase you.”
“Why?” I yelled, pausing in the middle of the bedroom. Parks halted beneath the doorjamb. “You’re scared of losing control. I know.” I cleared my throat to stop my voice from croaking. “But telling me what your father did, or letting me in, is not losing control. It’s moving forwards with me, Wade. You can’t keep it locked away. It will eat away at you.”
He opened his mouth but then closed it again and shook his head. I remained where I was, pulling back the urge to comfort him, subduing the desire that rushed through my body to step into his arms.
“Tell me why you’re so angry about the way your parents treated you.” I wanted to get him to open up. Wanted to ask him anything to make him stay with me.
“I don’t care how they treated me,” he lied, looking away from me.
“Yes, you do. You care because every fucking day you wonder why your parents didn’t love you like they should have.”
“No,” He breathed out, banging his fist against the door to get me to be quiet.
“It’s okay for you to want your father to love you, Wade. I get it.”
“I don’t want fuck all from him.” He glared at me as the words pushed through gritted teeth. I kept my mouth shut, not daring to speak any more, and he angrily glanced at his watch. “I have a meeting in ten minutes. You know how I feel about being late.” He opened his hand, silently asking me to give him his shirt, but I refused.
“Fuck your meeting. Is it more important than me? Us?”
Parks said nothing, just kept his hand out, waiting for his shirt. Eventually, I gave up and threw it at his feet. “You know, your father was right. You will never love me as much as you love your work.”
His tight jaw clenched as he pulled his shirt on. “Don’t talk about that man.”
“But he’s right. Work keeps your mind occupied, that’s why you work so hard. When you come back to reality, you realise you’re only human with feelings like the rest of us, and you hate that. I will never satisfy you enough, will I? Not like your work does.”
He closed his eyes before turning his back on me. “Shut up, Evelyn.”
The way he rejected the truth and tried to silence me when something wasn’t going his way made me laugh. I followed his steps to the front door. “Why? Because I’m right? You know how hard it is for me every damn day to go without a drink when you’re not around? When things get tough and memories unfold inside my head, you know how hard I struggle to try and ride it out instead of going back to vodka?” I pressed my hand to my chest. “I’m only human, Wade. There is only so much I can take.”
Parks stopped just before the front door, then turned around and sighed. Placing his hands on my shoulders, he said, “But you’re brave, Princess.”
I rested my hands on his. “And you can be too. I’m not saying give up your work—”
“That will never happen.”
I looked up to the ceiling, praying he would mentally come back to me, but he was lost. I shifted my shoulders so his hands fell from them. “Then I know I will never be enough for you.” I took a step back as his eyes narrowed at me, confused. “Work will always come before me because it’s what takes your mind off your shit. Not me.”
He threw his hands to his sides in frustration. “Don’t be ridiculous, Evelyn. You are what takes my mind of things.”
“Then stay with me,” I pleaded, pulling on his sleeve. Ruthlessly, he tugged it away from my fingertips and glanced down at me.
“Since when did you become clingy?”
I stared at him, half-offended even as I knew exactly when I became too attached to this man. I ignored his brush-off and gently placed my hands on his jaw, a jaw that was shadowed in dark stubb
le and made him look like my dangerous knight. “Since the day I fell in love with an arrogant arsehole who has a fetish for discipline and watermelon.” Anticipation grew as I waited for his reaction, and when his green eyes turned tender and he brushed his thumb gently over my lips, I closed my eyes, waiting for him to tell me he’d stay. Seconds later, my hope was dashed. He dropped his thumb from my lips and straightened out his suit sleeves.
“I have to go. I have a busy schedule this week.”
My whole body monumentally sagged in defeat. He was clearly in a rush to leave. Whether it was because he didn’t want to be late for his meeting or because he didn’t want to have this conversation with me, I wasn’t sure. What I was sure of was that I was fighting a pointless battle.
“Just go,” I whispered. I knew how upset I looked from the way he gazed at me. His vision was distressed. His Adam’s apple dipped as he swallowed down the words he desperately wanted to say, but he chose the easy way out by remaining mute and emotionless. When he hesitated before moving to leave, I yelled, “I told you to go.” I swiped my hands out in front of me, and he took a step away. Without a second glance, he left me in the room alone.
I caught my wobbling lower lip between my teeth and closed my eyes, begging my damn tears to get back in their cage.
Why wasn’t he fighting for me anymore?
Chapter Three
I fell asleep that night against a wet pillow, crying like a fucking sap after Parks left me. When I woke, I rubbed at my eyes and glanced out of the window to see Saturday morning was upon me. I was still wearing my t-shirt from the night before, and I felt exhausted, lost, and achy, but most of all, extremely hungry.
My plan was to return my head to the pillow and try and sleep the day away—after all, what else could I do? If I moped about any longer, I would go insane.