Pushing Patrick Novels & Stories

After transferring into an elite high school, I was bullied. However, it was not my classmates that bullied me; it was every object in the school. The private bathroom in my dorm only ran icy cold water when I showered, forcing me to trek to the public bathhouse in the dead of winter. When I begged the dorm supervisor, Mrs. Linda Mercer, to submit a repair request, she rolled her eyes and said, "The students who lived here last year never had this problem. Why is it suddenly broken when you move in?" My student ID card never worked in the library or the cafeteria. Every single time, it failed to scan, and I had to register manually. The multimedia equipment in the classroom froze whenever I touched it, dragging down the entire class schedule. I went to the teachers for help. They frowned and complained instead. "Everyone else can use it just fine. Why does it only malfunction when you do?" Even my deskmate rolled her eyes and mocked me. "You put on such a show every day. You are the only one who's so special. Are we supposed to stop studying just for you?" One strange incident after another completely isolated me at my new school. I cried and begged my parents to let me transfer again. They said, "The college entrance exam is right around the corner. Stop making trouble. Just endure it, and it will pass." I listened. I decided to grit my teeth and push through. Then, on the day of the college entrance exam, the security gate malfunctioned and started leaking electricity. Everyone else was fine. I was the only one who was electrocuted to death on the spot. Until the moment I died, I could not understand why the entire school seemed to be pushing me out. I was just a newly transferred student who had no grudges with anyone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I arrived to register at the new school.

“Shut your fucking damn mouth!” Zach’s voice echoed through the room, raw and sharp with anger. Madison didn’t flinch. If anything, the fire in her eyes only burned brighter. She had been pushing his buttons for days—emotionally, mentally. And it tore at him, deep down where no one could see. “I thought you liked it open,” she said with a wicked smirk, sauntering toward his desk like she owned the place. His body betrayed him, twitching at her dirty words. Of course she knew exactly what to say. She always did. “I’m not quitting!” she snapped. “I am a doctor. A damn good one. Who do you think you are to tell me to give that up?!” Zach rose from behind his desk, calm yet dangerous. His hands moved to open his suit jacket, revealing that familiar tension in his shoulders—the one that made her heart race. “Wha—what are you doing?” He closed the space between them in two strides. “I’m your Daddy,” he growled, low and close, “like you cried out last night. And you… you’re mine.” And then his lips crashed into hers before she could breathe another word. ~~ Darly Madison—respected surgeon, focused, disciplined, and just a little stubborn—had her world under control. That is, until her best friend dragged her to a luxurious night party at one of the city’s most exclusive hotels. One night. One mistake. One man who turned her world upside down. Zach Westley. Mafia boss. Dominant. Dangerous. Possessive to the core. She thought it was just a one-night stand. He had other plans. Now her life as a surgeon collides with a dark underworld she never saw coming. And whether she likes it or not… she’s been claimed by the Mafia.

“I don't want to see this angelic face of hers that deceived me and murdered my child, she disgusts me, she is nothing but a worthless, good for nothing, liar. I was so good to her and this is how she repays me? I fucking loved her, I changed who I was for her sake. I put up with her annoying and embarrassing ass but you know what, take her back to Ryan if you must, I'm sure he was so relieved when I took her off his hands but even I regret taking her.” Camilla composes herself, finding her balance but still a crying mess. “You don't mean that, you're just mad. You love me, remember?” she mummers, her gaze drifting to Santiago. “Tell him he loves me and he's just mad.” she begs, when Santiago doesn't respond, she shakes her head, her gaze falling on Adrian again and he stares at her with disdain. “You said you love me forever.” she whispers. “No, I fucking hate you right now!” He yelled. ***** Camilla Mia Burton is a Wolf less seventeen-year-old with insecurities and fear of the unknown. She is a half-human part-werewolf; she's a powerful wolf even though unaware of the power within her and has a beast too a rare gem. Camilla is as sweet as she can be. However what happens when she meets her mate and he is not what she dreamed about? He is a cruel cold-hearted eighteen years old Alpha. He is ruthless and in disapproval of Mates he wants nothing to do with her. She endeavors to change his perception of how he sees things, yet he loathes and rejects her pushing her away but the mate bond proves to be strong. What will he do when he regrets rejecting and hating her?

*Smut After her mate's brutal rejection, healing prodigy Sandra surrenders to a dangerously seductive stranger in a dark alley, only to discover he's her uncle Marcus. Trapped by blackmail in his isolated house, forbidden desire ignites between lessons. But Marcus harbors a deadly secret about her father's death. ----------------- “Fuck, Sandra,” he growled, thumb brushing over my nipple through the fabric until it stiffened, aching. “Vanessa’s right upstairs. If she hears us—” “I don’t care,” I panted, rocking up against him, chasing that thick pressure. “Make me forget today. Just tonight. Please.” I’m going straight to hell,” he muttered, then closed the gap. His mouth took mine slow this time, deliberate, like he was memorizing the taste of me. I sighed into it, hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. He tasted like black coffee and smoke and sin, and I wanted more. He tugged me closer, one hand fisting in my hair, the other splayed low on my back, pressing me against him. Heat flared low in my belly, spreading fast. I shifted, trying to ease the ache between my thighs, and he groaned against my lips, grip tightening. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth; I opened for him instantly, meeting him stroke for stroke until we were both breathing hard. He tilted my head back, lips moving down my throat, teeth grazing the frantic beat of my pulse. I gasped, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “We should stop,” he rasped against my skin, but his hand was already pushing under my thin tank top, calloused palm gliding up my ribs. “We should,” I agreed breathlessly, then dragged his mouth back to mine, kissing him deeper, hungrier.

"I agree to the divorce," I said as I dialed my mother-in-law's number. "Matteo Bellandi will never agree to divorce me, so you need to arrange a new identity for me. I need to disappear completely. He must never find me." Despite six years of marriage, I never conceived a child. In the Mafia world, how many men remarried for the sake of an heir? Yet Matteo always stood firmly at my side. To have a child, we tried everything—ninety-nine rounds of IVF that resulted in ninety-eight failures. The final pregnancy ended in fetal demise. Matteo held me and said, "Whether we have a child or not, I will always love you." Everyone said he was deeply devoted and that I was fortunate. Even I believed it. I believed it was my body that was defective. I believed I was the one holding him back. Until that day, when I went to the hospital for a follow-up exam. I saw him with my own eyes, pushing a mobile hospital bed into a VIP suite. On the bed lay a young woman named Sienna Vale, who had just given birth, holding a pair of twins—a boy and a girl. The congratulations inside the room were sharp and piercing. They praised his good fortune and Sienna's superior genes. They said the children were born to inherit the Bellandi empire. They mocked my education and my background and said I could not produce a "high-quality" heir. "Who do you think you are, daring to speak about her? My wife is not someone you get to judge. If I hear one more word of disrespect toward my Donna, you'd better weigh the consequences yourself," Matteo rebuked them coldly, preserving my dignity as Donna. In that moment, I finally understood that the marriage I had been so proud of was nothing more than a joke in everyone else's eyes. If that was the case, I would end this love story everyone envied with my own hands.

She gave her submission to a stranger. He was never a stranger at all. Vivian Ashworth is the perfect executive assistant. Polished. Professional. Unflappable. Nobody knows about her secret life: the anonymous platform where she kneels for a Dom who calls himself Sir. For six months, he's commanded her through screens and encrypted messages, pushing her limits, learning her body, knowing things about her desires she's never told anyone. By day, she works for Alexander Kane—CEO of Kane Industries, demanding perfectionist, the kind of boss who makes assistants cry and competitors tremble. She hates him. She respects him. She definitely doesn't dream about him. Then Alexander says four words that shatter her world: "Or should I say... Velvet?" Her anonymous Dom. Her impossible boss. The same man. He's known who she was from the beginning. Every confession she typed in the dark. Every fantasy she whispered through her phone at 2 AM. Every time she begged for permission to come. He was testing her. Training her. Waiting. Now he wants to formalize everything. A contract. Total power exchange—at work and in his bed. No more hiding. No more pretending. Complete submission in exchange for complete care. She should refuse. She should run. She should report him to HR and never look back. Instead, she's kneeling in his penthouse, reading the contract, and realizing her body has already signed. But Alexander has enemies. His bitter ex-submissive knows their secret and wants revenge. The lines between professional and personal are blurring dangerously. And Vivian is discovering that surrender isn't the same as weakness—it's the most terrifying kind of strength. The contract is about to become a problem. Will she sign away her heart along with her submission? Or will the man behind the mask prove that control and love aren't mutually exclusive?

Meeting one’s mate was supposed to be a wonderful thing For Aurora however, it was hate at first sight. Attending Twilight Academy had always been her dream. But that dream quickly turns into a nightmare when she discovers she’s mated to the Lycan Prince. Theron Grey. Theron Grey would stop at nothing to make her life miserable. His life's mission, have her kicked out of Twilight Academy. Lycan’s, dominant ones with royal bloodlines, don’t get mated to mutts. Or do they? Because Theron, it seemed, was the exception. ***** ****** “Mates?” I whispered. It couldn’t be. “You’re my mate?” I asked again, my voice barely above a whisper. His expression darkened more. “Don’t ever say those words again,” he growled. Being his mate was disgraceful. A fact he was desperate to keep hidden. What exactly was the Moon Goddess high on when she made this ridiculous match?! “Well then, reject me!” I snapped. I was tired of being treated like I was nothing. “I can’t! That’s the thing!” he roared back. For some odd reason, rejection wasn’t an option. We were stuck with each other. Now, I was trapped in a school with a mate who loathed my very existence and wanted me gone. “This school cannot contain the both of us Leave!” he ordered. I met his gaze head-on. “Over my dead body.” ******** Aurora had been shielded her whole life like a secret. But Twilight Academy would force her to uncover the truth She belonged here more than she ever imagined. And beneath Theron’s cold, cruel exterior, maybe there was something else. A reason he needed her gone. Maybe pushing her away wasn’t just about who she was. Maybe it was about what he was afraid would be uncovered.

"Finders keepers," Deangelo growled, his voice all sharp edges. "I found her first, commoners, she belongs to me. The only reason she's still breathing is because I saved her from that fucking fire." Romano snorted, pushing his way further inside. "You think you can just claim her like that? She's not a damn trophy, Scorpion." Fernando gave a series of hand gestures in sign language. Deangelo translated, "You may have found her, but that does not make her yours. We have a stake here, Papi." Vincenzo's voice cut like a knife through the tension. "This isn't some playground game. She's a person, not a prize to be fought over?" As their voices rose, they suddenly fell silent, snapping their eyes to Rosita. She was rushing towards the door. DeAngelo's eyes narrowed as he took a step towards her. "Little peasant, don't even think about it." **** Rosita's life has been anything but ordinary. Homeschooled and sheltered by her overprotective father after a near-fatal stalking incident, she dreams of escaping to college and pursuing her passion for music. But her father's plans to enroll her in an online university leave her feeling trapped and desperate. On the day, she finally decides to away, a fire overtakes their home, trapping her in her room. Just when she thinks all hope is lost, her metal door is broken down—not by her father, but by Deangelo Luis Valladares, the most-feared mafia drug lord in the whole of Mexico. With an intriguing, sinister smile, he extends his hand to Rosita through the smoke-filled room. Will Rosita take his hand and let him save her, or will she be taken by force? Can a breathtaking beauty like Rosita survive in a world ruled by mafia dons who live like kings and control Mexico City?

A moan of pure pleasure escapes my mouth and he nips my lower lip, sending shock waves through my body. Pushing me onto my back, he continues to devour me - nipping at the skin along my neck and running his hand over the fabric covering my breasts. Heat builds up between my legs as I feel him harden against my thigh. I bite my lower lip and instinctively raise my hips against him. He moans and takes my face in his large hands. "Look at me. If we continue any further I'm not going to be able to stop myself. If we mate I will mark you and you'll be mine forever." He says slowly, the words penetrating the fog clouding my brain. "Is this what you want?" My body screams yes, but my mind forces me to be rational. "Not yet, eventually but not yet." I admit, running my hands through his hair. He sighs, disappointment evident before he rests his head on my chest. "I don't want you to get hurt by our matebond." I eventually say. "What do you mean?" He asks. I lift his hand and place it on my thigh, letting his fingers brush against the scars. "Kane told me that when you're mated, you feel everything your mate feels… I don't want that. I don't want you to feel if I die. " *** Natalia has spent the last ten years living in isolation, scarred from witnessing the massacre of her parents, she believes that the mate bond and love are a weakness she never wants to experience - even when confronted with her very own mate. Unfortunately for her, Liam, Alpha of the Dark Moon Pack has no plan on letting her go. Will succumbing to him save her, or will it be her ultimate doom?

WARNING⚠️: CONTAINS MATURED & EXPLICIT CONTENTS. "I didn’t sign up to be just a nanny to your kids and a sex toy to you!” I screamed. “You have no choice, woman!” Sebastian retorted, “I got married to you for these reasons, and you have to fulfill your responsibilities.” “I should be fulfilling my responsibilities as your wife, not a nanny or a sex toy!” I whimpered. He grabbed my hand, his arm wrapping around my waist. “I don’t care what you have to say, but do not miss the next even day, be at my bed!” I felt his hot breath on my face, my legs shook, like they always have under his touch. “What? You can’t even resist my touch, and you talk about being a sex toy?” He grabbed my cheeks and raised my head to meet his intense gaze. “Tell me you don't love being touched by me!” My whole body trembled. How could I tell him that I loved it, but I just didn’t want to be treated like a sex toy? “Speak!” He shouted, and grabbed my shirt, tearing out the buttons. “Stop me, Olivia!” I stood still, I couldn't stop him. He pulled the shirt off and dropped my skirt to the floor, leaving me only with my bra and panties on. He grabbed my waist and his other hand found it's way into my panties. “Stop me now, Olivia!” His finger slid inside of me, and I cried out, shamelessly. “I don’t want you to stop!” I screamed, grabbing his hand and pushing his fingers in and out of me. I felt embarrassed, but I just couldn’t resist his touch. That was all I was to him; a nanny to his kids, and a sex toy to him.