Pushing Patrick Novels & Stories

"Don't you love this?" Isobel asked, undoing his pants. Cameron raised her up, pushing her ass on the table. He checked the bottom drawer and realised they were out of condoms. Completely mesmerised, he breath. "We can't do this. You don't want to get pregnant." She leaned closer to his body till her braless tits fell on his chest and her lips touched his ears. "I did something." She whispered. "Won't be giving birth for three months." She said. Cameron shifted back, taking his time to look in her eyes. He wanted to be sure she understood what she had done and was ready for it. Isobel smiled, need masqueraded her eyes. "Are you sure?" She nodded. Dipping her hand in his pants. She gasped as her hand fisted his, thick, hard dick. "I want this." "Good." Cameron said, taking his shirt off. "Because I'm going to fuck you." He roared and that instant, her dress ripped open. She enjoyed the sound of the tear. She enjoyed being vulnerable and naked in front of him. Her nipples hardened and his tongue enveloped it. "You're mine. And I'll make you remember that. Every. Damn. Time." "I know." She whispered, unable to think. Her hand roamed around his body till she felt his gun. Isobel gasped. Cameron held her little fingers, reading the look on her face. He stopped and pulled out without taking his eyes off her body. He spread her legs wide for him. She's so beautiful. That pussy is his. Cameron loaded the gun with a bullet and cocked it. Isobel flinched. The mouth of the gun grazed her pussy in ways she enjoyed. She moaned, biting her lips. He was fucking her with his gun. This is her dream come true.

I was the daughter of the Blackwood Pack's Alpha, and my mate, Damien, was the Alpha heir of the neighboring Pack. We grew up together, and when we turned eighteen, our wolves recognized each other as mates. I thought I would be happy forever, until Damien rescued an Omega named Sarah at the border. She was beautiful, appearing as fragile and innocent as a doe. Two months later, Damien finally made his decision. "Elena, let's break the mate bond. My wolf might have chosen you, but that's just instinct. I’ve never actually loved you, Elena. You've always just been like a sister to me." In my past life, I cried until I fainted. My father, heartbroken for me, personally pressured the Shadowcrest elders. Ultimately, Damien was thrown into the dungeon and Sarah was exiled. However, Sarah was killed by rogue wolves on her way out of our territory. Damien remained despondent for six months. Eventually, through my patient companionship and care, he pulled himself together and marked me. But fifteen years later, as I lay in bed suffering from silver poisoning, Damien appeared before me holding Sarah’s hand. He personally injected the final dose of silver into my body, watching me struggle and die in agony. But when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the year I turned eighteen. After my rebirth, I severed all ties with my Alpha mate, Damien. In my previous life, I had spent six months pushing myself through combat training I wasn't suited for just to attend the Alpha Academy with him, leaving my body covered in scars. This time, I tore up the admission offer and headed to the Royal Lycan Academy of Healing in Europe. Years later, I returned to the pack house for my marking ceremony with my second chance mate—the Alpha King, the most powerful werewolf in existence. Damien knelt outside the pack house, his eyes bloodshot. "Please, just give me another chance to love you..."

His gaze met mine, intense and possessive, his lips just an inch away as his lips left my nipple. “Say it, Erica,” he commanded, voice rough. “Say that you belong to me.” I swallowed, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might drown out my thoughts. He held me tightly, his fingers pressing into my skin as if trying to claim every inch of me, refusing to let me escape. “I... I don’t,” I whispered, my voice barely steady, the denial weak even to my own ears. He gave me a dark smile, then continued, his mouth finding my other breast. He sucked lightly, his other hand gripping my waist, making it clear he didn’t plan on letting go. His tongue drew imaginary circles around my nipple, his teeth nipping at my sensitive bud before he sucked it whole again like a starved man. “You don’t?” he murmured against my skin. “Then why haven’t you stopped me?” I opened my mouth to protest, but only a soft sound escaped, my hands tightening on his shoulders as he kept pushing, each suck and touch breaking down my defenses. I let out an ear splitting moan, “Raffael please…” *********** Erica’s world is shattered when she’s forced into a dangerous deal with Raffael Greco, the ruthless crime boss who now owns her. By day, she’s his maid, and by night, she works in his strip club—her body no longer her own. Drawn to the ruthless man who both torments and ignites her, Erica can’t resist the tension simmering between them. Raffael, obsessed with controlling her, finds himself slowly losing control instead. Can Erica survive being Raffael's sinful desire, or will his desires destroy her before she can escape?

WARNING: HEAVY SMUT AHEAD!!! Mature audiences only! Proceed with caution! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “Please,” she whispered, desperation cracking her voice. “Please, Chase.”   “Begging already?” His voice was cruel, his fingers circling faster, pushing her to the edge. “I'm not even nearly done with you yet.”   She squeezed her eyes shut, the recruit’s muffled cries and the whip’s crack filling her ears, amplifying her need. Chase’s fingers were relentless, stroking her clit, and dipping inside just enough to tease.   “Please,” she whimpered, louder now, her hands gripping his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I won’t lie again. I’ll be good. Please, let me cum.”   He chuckled, his lips brushing her neck. “Not yet, baby. Fight it.”   Her body screamed, every nerve on fire, the recruit’s struggles mirroring her own. The girl’s master groaned, close to release, as Lila’s whip landed again and again on her ass.   Emma’s head felt like it was about to explode under the pressure, her thighs shook with the effort to conceal it, her pleas spilling out. “Please, Chase, I can’t hold it any longer… I need it."   "Don't. You. Dare. Come." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Picture this: A CEO pinning his partner's daughter over his desk, whispering rules that chain her soul while his cock claims her body. Or a werewolf's claws raking skin in the moonlit woods, rutting her senseless till she's howling his name. We mix it up... sweet, slow-burn romances that melt into tender fucks and whispered "I love yous," flipping to the dark side with BDSM bites, non-con edges that blur fear into filthy want, and horror vibes where ghosts fuck you cold then hot. Your panties? Ruined. Your cravings? Fed. And yet, you'll still be here begging for more. Dive in if you're brave enough.

“Don’t tell me you’re starting to get scared again,” he whispered before returning his lips to my sensitive nipples. His hand slid lower, shifting my panties aside, the fabric brushing against my skin. “Someone might walk in,” I managed to say, though my voice was barely audible. “Forget everyone and focus on us,” he murmured. His fingers began to tease me, running over my clit with a deliberate slowness that made my breath hitch. “I love how you’re always so wet for me,” he said, his tone filled with raw desire. As his pace quickened, his words urged me on. “Don’t hold back your moans. I want to hear all of it.” The knowledge that his office was soundproof was the only reassurance I had, but even then, I couldn’t trust my own voice. My body arched in response as he trailed kisses along my neck, his fingers moving with an intoxicating rhythm. “I love how your body reacts to my touch,” he murmured against my skin. “I could fuck you all day.” “Yes,” I moaned, unable to stop myself. “Yes, what?” he teased, his fingers moving even faster, pushing me closer to the edge. “Don’t stop, Alex,” I gasped. ********************************************************** Six years ago, Alex broke me, leaving me humiliated, pregnant, and abandoned. He chose Camila, his flawless childhood friend, while I was left to pick up the shattered pieces of my life. But I survived, and for my son, I built a life I’m proud of. Now, Alex is after me, but stunned by the woman I’ve become, and the son who bears his resemblance. When he asked about his father, my son’s innocent reply said it all: "Mommy said he's dead." I couldn’t have said it better myself.

My dad arrives at the hotel after taking three bus rides from the town two hours before the wedding starts. He's wearing the old suit that he has kept for the past ten or so years. The cuffs have gone white from all the washing, and his shoes shine brightly from all the polishing. Before entering, Dad has specifically pinned the red boutonniere to his chest several times while looking at his reflection in the glass of the hotel's main entrance just so he can get it right. After all, it symbolizes his status as the bride's father. When Dad is about to take his seat, he grasps the card that shows his seat as he approaches my future husband, Elliott Chambers, tentatively. "Elliott, there seems to be a mistake with my seat." Elliott merely glances at the card before pushing it back to Dad. "Your seat is correct. There are limited spots at the main table, so you'll have to sit at a spare table at the back." Dad is stunned by Elliott's answer. "But it says here that I'm meant to sit at the main table…" Elliott frowns at Dad. "This is a last-minute adjustment. The shareholders and important clients of Chambers Corp will be attending my wedding today. Not everyone gets to sit at the main table." Dad looks down at his old suit before he slowly stuffs the card back into his pocket. He wants to take off the boutonniere, but the pin gets stuck in the fabric of his jacket. The more he wants to take it off, the more his hand keeps shaking. That's when Elliott's mother, Catherine Aldridge, speaks up. "All the seats are the same, Patrick. Don't cause any trouble for Elliott now." Dad quickly nods in response. "You're right. I'm fine with any seat." Then, he picks up the old wooden chest that's sitting by his feet before heading toward the spare table that's located in the corner. I raise my head, only to see a seating card titled "The Carvers" being placed on the most obvious spot of the main table. At the moment, Elliott is helping Claire Carver's mother into her seat. As for my dad, he's hugging the chest containing the wedding gifts meant for me while sitting by the kitchen door.