Denying Mr. Parks (The Parks #1) (35 page)

The more I waited, the more I became breathless and panted with anticipation. After what seemed hours, I heard him walk into the bedroom. My head turned to look at him instinctively. He had stopped in the doorway to take in what I was wearing, and I caught his lips parting whilst he inhaled; saw his eyes were dilated and dark, even more intense and cold. His detached demeanour made me waver slightly, but I guessed it was because he was in his dominant-trance state. He was never going to act with affection when I was receiving punishment. He was impatient, rude, and emotionless then, and I wasn’t at all surprised I found it endearing.

He twirled his finger in the air to tell me to turn around. That command sent sharp, arousing pulsations throughout my whole body as I did what I was told. I almost kept forgetting I wasn’t allowed to look at him whilst punishment commenced, because that particular command was hard to deal with.

“You’re not naked for me, Evelyn. But this will do nicely.” I winced as he brushed his fingertips over my hips. When he touched my skin, it was hard to ignore what felt like burning tingles across my body from his contact. And when his touch left me, I felt cold again and wanted him back instantly.

“Now”—I heard the clanking of the handcuffs—”we’re going to do this a little differently.” He brought them around so I could see them. “Give me your wrists.”

I held both wrists up, whipped into action by his sharp tone. He hooked one cuff around my left wrist and slid the chain through the metal poles in the bed, then cuffed my other wrist. I was secured in place. “You’re going to be restrained.” His breath misted my ear as he leaned in. “And blindfolded.” He didn’t wait for me to accept, because I was the submissive asking to be punished, so my word to a dominant was meaningless. I watched as a piece of black silk was placed over my eyes so I couldn’t see a thing, but I felt his breath against my ear again. “You want to play games?” he breathed. “I can play them better.”

I shivered as his breath tickled my ear and sent a chill down my back. “Being blindfolded,” he began before tracing my ear with the tip of his tongue, “will make you focus more on my touch, scent, and sound. I’ve always wanted to put your trust to the test. Do you trust me, Evelyn?”

I hesitated, and for that, I got an almighty smack across my backside. My body jerked forwards on a surprised yelp, and the handcuffs clattered against the metal whilst he growled, “I won’t ask you again.”

I whispered yes but also felt confused. I trusted this man, yet I didn’t trust anyone. I trusted him even though I didn’t know him. Not really.

“Of course you do.” His voice was silky and raspy at the same time, sending me into a spin. I felt him walk away from me, and he was right; my ears
had
pricked up to hear more, my body
had
tensed because I hadn’t a clue what was going on around me, and it made me hot as hell.

After a few moments he was back behind me and slowly began to glide something up the inside of my leg. I flinched slightly when the item came into contact with me, and I gained another spank for that. He moved his hand across my cheek forcefully, making my body jerk forwards again. The slap echoed around the room, and metal clanked against metal.

“Trust,” he hissed, bending down to whisper in my ear. “You trust me, so you have no need to flinch.”

I did trust him, but it was so fucking hard not to flinch when I had no idea what was in his hand. He took another step away from me, then ran the object up the back of my legs and into the middle, forcing them to open wider. I then realised he was holding a riding crop. Shit. I heard my own breathing. Could feel my heart pumping. Feel my chest rising. All I was focused on was what his next move was going to be.

He ever so slightly brushed the folded leather tip across the apex of my thighs and aimed for my aching sex. The flesh between my legs clenched perversely, begging for attention. I moaned as he moved slower over that part of my body, but he soon removed the crop from my flesh and lightly flicked the tip across my backside. It didn’t hurt, but I knew it was a small warning to be quiet.

“You didn’t have my permission to make a sound.” He took hold of my ponytail, wrapped the hair around his wrist, and yanked my head back. He skimmed his lips along my exposed throat as he spoke. “But you have my permission to tell me why you need this punishment, Evelyn.”

I whimpered at how close yet so far away his lips were to my skin, only brushing against me.

“Because I’ve been bad, Mr. Parks.”

“A bad what, Evelyn?” He breathed hard, eager for my response. It was an incredibly erotic sound and one I needed to hear, so I played along.

“A bad girl.”

His groan was back again, making my cleft water. “And why is that?”

I had my eyes closed under the blindfold, but I scrunched them up a little more before I spoke.

“Because I have an impulsive way of thinking. Because I act reckless and careless and dumb.”

“And?” he urged, tightening his hand around my hair.

And? Wasn’t that enough? “There’s no more,” I told him.

He pulled my hair tighter, making me gasp. I felt the crop leave my thighs as he swung it back into the air. It struck my arse harsher when he whipped it down that time. The leather tip made a cracking noise that made me grimace and hiss. I bit down onto my bottom lip and clenched my fists around the bedframe instead of crying out. The pain was a welcome one, and I weirdly, instantly craved more.

“That’s the wrong answer, Evelyn,” he purred into my ear salaciously. “You paraded your body around another man. You withheld a climax from me. You also went missing. So you
will
be punished. Ready?” he asked, like he always did.

“Yes,” I told him on a breath, and he released my hair. My head bowed down as I adjusted my stance. My legs were apart, and I was bent over slightly, shoving my arse out for him.

His breathing picked up behind me as he slid the long stick of the riding crop across the curve of my bum. He growled, then flicked the crop painfully across it. I bit my lip and clenched my eyes shut as another strike came down at the exact same spot. It was painful, but the pleasure overpowered the pain.
He
was overpowering me the most, definitely doing the job he was meant to a thousand times over. Changing course, he twirled the leather tip around my other cheek, then took it away until it came stinging down again, making that cracking noise every time.

“Jesus,” I hissed as the sting from the leather throbbed, causing him to crack it across me again.

“Quiet,” he bellowed.

I took the pain without complaint from then on and came through each strike with clenched knuckles and bitten lips. It felt excruciatingly good and seemed to become my reparation. It also seemed to satisfy Parks to punish me this way. Every time he cracked the crop against me, he would grunt in erotic contentment. His gasps were increasing and his hunger was heightening.

After another five times, I heard him throw down the crop. “That’s enough.” With that proclamation, he took hold of my hips ruthlessly and yanked me back before pushing his masterful cock into me. My yelp echoed around the bedroom at the welcome force and at the pain the top of his thighs gave my sore backside when they collided. He felt different, more brutal, and more determined. This was for
my
punishment but for
his
pleasure as well, and fucking me this way proved it. I was still handcuffed, still blinded and having the hell fucked out of me. He was so deep, plunging so hard it was borderline painful, and that’s what I craved. Sweat misted my skin, curses left my mouth, and his adept, aggressive dirty talk sent me into a word of explicit fantasy.

“See how my big, fucking cock teaches you a lesson, Evelyn? Do you see how you will continue to get punished for defying me?” My yelps were pitiful, my moans were loud, and he surprisingly allowed me to make them. “
Yes
. I want to hear you moan for my dick.” His body collided with mine as he penetrated my core even rougher, deeper. My knees buckled as I tried to keep up with him; tried to keep up with the mixture of heady sensations he was dealing me. My stomach knotted and burnt with fever. My sex started contracting around his cock, and I was about to come, but he beat me to it on a guttural cry. My mind took flight when his hot fluids filled my snug channel, and I milked him for what he was worth.

“Christ,” he rasped, holding me still whilst he emptied inside me, but he didn’t stop there. He quickly released my wrists from the cuffs, kissed each one in turn, and took the blindfold from my eyes. I didn’t even open them; I felt I couldn’t. I was never languid after sex, but that felt like a pounding to my body.

Parks was not about to let me rest, though. He took an abrupt hold of my hips, turned me around to face him, and ploughed his lips into mine. His tongue filled my mouth with wild, deep thrusts. He was the predator and I was his prey, and the desirably violent way he showed it proved just how much. It was like he needed me to understand how much he wanted me. How much he craved me. How much he wanted and needed that control. But then, so did I.

I kissed him back with equal amounts of what he was giving me, but my hands hesitated when I went to touch him. My mind wavered between just blocking out how I felt about him or actually allowing myself to fall into his trap and let myself feel.

After a second thought, my hands overtook me and grabbed hold of his stone-like biceps. Growling into my mouth from that contact, he pushed himself into me, seeming to let go. Our bodies crashed into each other’s, and I encircled his merciless upper body with my hands, needing to touch it, and what I felt did not disappoint. His hands were on the sides of my face, and he was sliding down my neck, then aggressively cupping my breasts. He wanted to touch all of me at once, and yes, I felt the same.

He bruised my lips with firm ferocity, then pulled back breathlessly and rested his forehead against mine. “Fuck. What the hell am I doing?” I was thinking the same. “I know you only asked for punishment, Evelyn, but how can I resist that sweet body of yours? You didn’t think I was just going to let you go home without pleasuring you, did you? My cock has been fucking hard since I saw your body tonight. You look delectable in that bodice. Jesus.”

He pushed me back onto the bed and left me laid out, propped up on my elbows, watching him as he backed away from me. He slowly and gracefully undressed himself, showing me the stone-hard muscles of his biceps and his washboard abs. I was aching, panting, and anticipating. My mouth watered at the sight of a body that would put a Greek god to shame.

His boxers and trousers were only half-down, so he pushed them off his long, muscular legs and exposed his—once again—lengthy, hard cock. I gulped at the sight of it as he knelt on the bed. His greedy, intense green gaze drifted over my entire body, causing my core to tighten.

As he climbed over me, I could tell his intention was to meet my lips with his.

“Curves like yours need to be worshiped, Evelyn, not ignored.” As he spoke against my mouth, he caressed me between my breast and my hip. “They should be kissed.”

He bent down to kiss the area he had stroked. “And licked.” One flick of his tongue against my nipple that was straining under the lace made me groan for more. Then he pulled his head up and aimed for my mouth. “I hold an erotic power over you, Evelyn, but I want to hold more.”

More? He couldn’t hold more of me, and I doubted he would want to when he knew me entirely.

“I’m going to worship your body and gaze into your eyes whilst you come for me. I’m not going to fuck you like before. I want to savour this. I want to savour us. But what happens afterward is something I won’t be held responsible for.”

I didn’t know what he meant, and before I could ask, he kissed me softly, tenderly moulding his lips against mine. He didn’t use his tongue at that point; he was almost loving me with his lips alone, and I followed, getting captured in their magic, tentatively weaving my fingers through his hair whilst resting beneath his body. Then he used the tip of his tongue to elegantly trace my lips, breathing softly against the moisture he left in its wake. As always, he made me crave watermelon. I inhaled the scent of not just fruit but heavy sex, earthy masculinity, and power. He would make me drip with desire each and every time; it was inevitable. The tenderness and sweetness of his lips left my mouth, and he did the same affectionate kissing and licking against my neck.

“Such beautiful, soft, sweet skin,” he coaxed, moving down to my breasts. I was wanton but confused. I’d never received such delicate kisses from him or from any other man, but I basked in his sudden softness, his sudden affection, and I knew when the influence of his body and touch left me, I would regret falling for him, again.

With his mouth, he covered the lace of my bodice over my puckered nipple, sending the excitement down to my stomach and right into the middle of my awaiting sex. Leaving my nipples, he then kissed down my stomach, and I immediately flinched. My body went rigid, so I took a tight hold of his hair and forced him downwards without trying to make a huge deal of it. He obliged and traced my thighs with his lips.

“We could do this every night, Evelyn.”

I willingly opened my thighs for him, needing him between them. His lips or cock, either one. He was so close to the middle but lingered, and it killed me to stop myself from begging him to lick my cleft the way I loved. He skated the tips of his fingers over my wet folds, and I had to give in. “Use your mouth, Wade.”