Pushing Patrick

Cole Patrick is merely a doorstep spawn who is reluctantly adopted by the Wyatt dynasty. He endures the mistreatment from the family but cannot speak up because the Wyatt's are powerful and influential. Zye Wyatt is an exception. She shows him kindness but is careful not to do it in front of the other members of the family. An innocent touch, a shared laugh, and suddenly, their bond blossoms into a forbidden love, ignited under the stars one lazy evening. However, their ruse comes to an end on prom night when Zane, Zye's brother finds them kissing behind the school library. He reports to their father who ships Zye abroad and kicks Cole out. At 18, homeless and determined to rise above his status, Cole forges a path of his own. Ten years later, Zye, broken and fresh from her divorce, finds herself looking for work in a small town. She is attracted to a bike gang from the town and is interested in joining as a step to her freedom. She realises that the bike gang leader is none other than Cole. Hardened by life but still her first love. However, their reunion does not last longer. A private investigator sent to find Zye's whereabouts reports them to her dad. The fragile peace they've curated shatters as shocking truths emerge: Cole wasn't abandoned; he was stolen from his mother after Mr. Wyatt brutally murdered his father. And his mother? Alive, a prisoner of the Wyatts' dark secrets all these years. Now, Cole stands at a crossroads: choose the woman who once offered him solace, or embrace the roaring vengeance for his shattered past and reclaim his stolen birthright. Can their love, forged in the fires of deception and longing, survive the ashes of Wyatt family lies?

Roseline's stomach turned and her fist clenched tightly around the handle of the big travel box beside her. She heard the clanging sound of the metallic head of Thompson's belt meeting the ground. Next, quite footsteps. Then, Thompson appeared in her view, like a ghost she didn't believe existed. He was completely bare, with his hairy chest rising and falling slowly, his cock shooting out in front like a gun ready to be fired, his balls bloated from desire, swinging from side to side as he walked closer to bed. Roseline's feet stuck to the ground and her eyes refused to blink as they looked on. "That's it, my boy. Hmm! I like what I see", the red hair gasped, rolling her eyes longingly at Thompson. As Thompson climbed unto the bed, his eyes totally locked in hers, she drew her breasts closer him, then, proceeded to rock the big pumpkins against the flushed skin of his face. "You like them?", she asked, moaning lightly. Thompson paused. Then, in a defiant move of uncontrollable desire, dug his chin into her breasts, burying his entire face in them. "Ouch", she gasped, then broke into a weak laugh, pushing his head more into her chest. "The damn bra", she spoke again, twisting uncomfortably as she threw her hands behind her to unhook the material. But Thompson caught her hands. Without words, his head still hidden in her cleavage, he slowly returned her hands to his head. Obliging to his silent command, she cackled loudly, pressing her chest even more into his face and then, with her tongue, glided across his neck and ears hungrily. Roseline froze. She wanted to scream but in that moment, she forgot how to.