Addicted to Mr Parks (The Parks Series #2)(74)

I knew I could smell bacon, but knowing all about Parks’s dietary rules made me think my nose was deceiving me. A few moments later, he carefully placed a plate onto the table in front of me. “A full English breakfast for my princess.” He kissed my temple and slid onto the chair next to me.

I grinned. “It’s perfection on a plate.”

“It’s a heart attack on a plate.” He frowned, pouring Greek yogurt onto his berries.

I scoffed, cutting up my bacon. “Just because you’re a posh git.”

He almost choked on a berry. “A posh git?” He did that English accent of his, which made me swoon.

“Yes.” I chuckled with a full mouth.

We ate in silence, giving each other tender glances now and again and listening to U2. When we were done, his smartphone began to ring from inside the bedroom. Of course he ignored it like he often did when he was with me, but I told him to go and answer it.

“Do you mind?” He was apologising, but I understood how busy he was. Still, that didn’t mean I wanted to share him. I never wanted to share him. I shook my head and dipped my fried bread into my tomatoes. He kissed my forehead, then headed into the bedroom.

Twenty minutes later, he still wasn’t back from his call. I sat at the table twiddling my thumbs after I cleared the dishes, then he arrived back in the kitchen, his hair askew as if he’d been pulling at it.

“Something wrong?” I frowned.

“Work. Come here. Let me f*ck you.”

Whoa. I had no time to ask another thing. He ripped off the shirt I was wearing, lifted me onto the table, and f*cked me good and hard until he was rid of his stress.



***



Parks had to take care of business when we arrived home late Sunday afternoon, so instead of lounging around the apartment, I decided to go visit Steph.

I changed into ripped jeans, a white shirt, and heels and stalked into the office to inform Parks about my plans. His gaze drifted up from his computer screen, where he’d stopped vigorously typing. It hit my face, soft and warm, but when he saw what I was wearing on bottom, he glowered.

“Your jeans are ripped.”

“They’re meant to be.” I chuckled.

“But I can see the tops of your thighs, Evelyn. Which means so can other men.”

“I’m going to Steph’s. Don’t be ridiculous.”

He pushed to his feet and made his way towards me with determined strides. When he reached me, he bent down and ripped the hole in my jeans, making it even bigger.

“Now you can’t wear them.”

I remained gobsmacked, immobilised, and f*cking pissed off. “You’re insane. I can’t believe you just did that.”

“I can’t believe you think I would allow you out with the tops of your thighs on display.” He turned his back on me, shoulders intensely flexing as he walked away.

Reasonably, he was in a foul mood because his work was stressful and he’d been taken away from me for a few hours. Unreasonably, he was taking it out on me.

“These jeans are from the wardrobe you gifted me with, dumbass.”

He froze on the spot, taking a moment to turn and face me. His eyes were brimming with cold, calm rage when he did. “Did you just call me a dumbass?”

Oh shit. “Well, you stocked the damn thing.” My heart was thrashing against my rib cage. The look in his eyes was far too familiar. It was the one that came just before a spanking.

He crooked his finger, speaking low and menacing. “Come here.” The power and command in his voice pulled out a submissive side of mine that I loved coming out to play.

I began to walk backwards, my feet working slowly. For every step back I took, he took a step forwards.

“Don’t make me chase you, Evelyn, because if I do, your punishment will enhance.”

“Maybe I want it to enhance,” I breathed. My steps suddenly ran out when my back came into contact with the wall.

Seeing his chance, Parks charged at me. Mercilessly, he turned my body around and pushed my front into the wall. My cheek pressed up against it. A gasp heaved out of my mouth, my body already aching and wanting. Parks pressed himself into me, keeping me from moving. His whispers tickled at my ear. “You love to push my buttons, don’t you, Evelyn?”

My breathing was heavy, my words gasping. “You know I do.”


A wry grin tugged at his lips as he pulled down my jeans just enough to expose my backside in white French knickers.

My hands were sandwiched between my chest and the wall, and Parks’s strong front pushed into my back. He circled my arse with his palm, caressing for a moment, then he swept it back into the air and brought it down with a smack. My body pushed into the wall from the sweet blow, my low groans telling him how much I enjoyed it.

“Tell me how much you love to be punished, Evelyn.” Before giving me chance to reply, he pulled his hand back again and swept it down onto my flesh with another slap.

“Oh God,” I moaned, clenching my eyelids shut. When the sting left my cheeks, the pleasure of how it felt, of how it made Parks’s lust ignite, made me yearn for another.

“Tell me.” His demand sounded as though he pushed it through gritted teeth as he spanked me again.

“I love it when you punish me.” And I did. Even if I didn’t necessarily agree with what he was punishing me for.