Addicted to Mr Parks (The Parks Series #2)(32)

I bit my lip and groaned a yes. The head of his wide cock began to slide into me, and my breath caught, my eyes clenched shut, and my fingers crippled against the pillow above my head. I’d never had anal sex before Parks, and I wasn’t scared of it. I just wasn’t expecting the full-on, intense feeling of being opened in a way that felt so good yet so wrong.

Parks groaned as he sank into me balls-deep, cursing at how good it felt. My mind was blank, focusing on the fulfilment. The pleasure boarding on pain. My body heating to an impossible degree and tightening all at once.

“Relax, baby,” he ordered. At first it was hard to relax, but once I did, he started to move. It was slow, effortless, and sensual. I clawing the pillow above my head and chewed my bottom lip to death. But the more I relaxed, the faster his thrusts became. And the faster he went, the more I wanted it. Hard.

“Jesus Christ. Tell me how that feels, Evelyn,” Parks rasped over the sound of the bed thudding against the wall, and over my moans.

“So good. Harder.” My words were clenched through gritted teeth and caught Parks by surprise.

“You love my cock hard, don’t you, Princess?” His raw, erotic words got me every time and burst through me like a mass of scalding heat.

“I’m not a princess when you’re f*cking me,” I snarled, almost angry at him. Even though it felt explicitly good, it also skimmed the line of pain. And that’s what I loved.

Parks took a chunk of my hair and pulled it back, making my neck arch, my back bend. “You’re still a princess; just a dirty one when you’re taking my cock.”

“Fucking hell,” I cried out, pushing my arse out to meet his thrusts. I was wild. He was fierce. We were feral. And the feeling was beyond words could ever describe.

“Oh Christ.” Parks’s control was slowly slipping as he was about to lose it to an orgasm. He pulled at my hair, causing me to cry out in delicious pain, working his hips relentlessly. His thrusts taking no mercy. His balls hit against the curve of my arse, making the slapping noise raw and sexy. But the sounds Parks made just before he was about to come were my undoing. He thrust into me deep and hard once more and spilled. The force of his pounding hit something inside me that triggered off my own orgasm.


“Evelyn.” My name fell from his lips in a rush. My cries got tangled in with his as he continued to thump into me until he was wrung dry.

Our bodies fell lifelessly onto the bed. My eyes closed, willing me to sleep forever. Parks slipped out of me, causing me to wince, then trailed gentle kisses up my back and across my shoulders before crashing beside me.

“Jesus, we f*ck hard.” He smirked.

I was smiling on the inside, but my body was exhausted. I couldn’t physically muster up a grin. “Yes. We do,” I murmured into the pillow and fell asleep.





Chapter Twelve





Sunday morning I arose feeling exquisitely fragile. As I stretched out, my eyes blinked open when they came into contact with the morning sun. I already felt that Parks wasn’t beside me, so I pushed out of bed and slipped on one of his shirts and went on a mission to find him.

Downstairs, he was cooking at the oven in a pair of white boxer shorts. God, his arse was so tight and divine. The Police’s “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic” was playing in the background, and my smile widened instantly, my feelings buzzing like a swarm of bees.

“Morning,” I sang happily and realised that never in my life had I said morning quite like that.

Parks turned down the hob on the oven when I reached him and flashed me a billion dollar grin before bending down to kiss my forehead. “Morning, Princess. Sit down, breakfast is almost done.”

Slipping onto the barstool, I winced a tad when my arse hit the hard wood. “What are you making?”

“Boiled eggs.” He smirked, taking the saucepan from the hob and pouring the boiled water into the sink.

“You remembered?” The surprise in my voice was palpable.

“Of course I did.” He picked off the eggshell and took some bacon out of the grill, along with heaps of toast. “Would you like them with soldiers?” he teased, even putting the eggs into egg cups.

I giggled. “No thank you.” After plating up the bacon and placing the toast into a fancy toast holder, he brought them over to the table. “Crispy bacon, just how I like.”

Parks nodded at my gratitude. “Good. I wouldn’t want to disappoint my princess.”

My brow cocked, but I tried to hide it by picking up a knife to load my toast with butter.

“What?” Of course he questioned me as he slipped onto the barstool next to me and started to peel an orange.

“Could you stop calling me Princess? Because I’m not one.” I bit into the toast, then cut off the top of my boiled egg to dip it in.

“Evelyn,” he went on before throwing a piece of orange into his delectable mouth, “if you have a problem with me calling you a princess, then…” I raised my eyes to his, hoping he would say he would stop doing it. “Tough shit.” He shrugged, deliciously throwing another piece of fruit into his mouth.

I rolled my eyes, but I left it at that. Him and his damn names.

After breakfast, we went back to bed, acting like a normal couple. A normal couple that had no cares in the world. A couple that had been together for longer than a damn day. Only knowing him for a few weeks felt crazy to me because it felt like I’d known him my whole life. We were extremely comfortable around each other. Connecting on an intimate level. I wished the bliss I felt would last, but it was inevitable that it wouldn’t. If only we could ignore our demons that were lurking in our shadows, ready and waiting to pounce on our happiness.