Pushing Patrick Novels & Stories

I couldn’t endure another round of hands where they weren’t wanted, another voice telling me I deserved it for being who I am. The thought came softly, almost kindly: I just want it to stop. Patrick shifted, hooking his fingers into the waistband of my boxer-briefs, tugging them down. The elastic caught on my hips; he growled in frustration and leaned back for leverage. That was when the banging started.

Alexandria I slipped into the limousine, let out an exaggerated breath, and collapsed against the seat. "I'm not going to lie," Patrick said as the car began to move, "I expected a bigger smile. Someone isn't doing his job. Maybe I should have gotten you a vibrator instead?" I shook my head. "Thank you, Pat. I-I..." Though I did my best to stop them, tears bubbled to the surface. Breathe in and out...breathe in and out...

I stood up, preparing to walk away, but he violently pulled me back down. "You're not listening to me!" he snapped. "Because you're talking bullshit!" I yelled, trying to push him away, but his grip tightened as he dragged me back. "I wouldn't be standing here if this wasn't serious, and you know it. You know me, Lucille." Patrick's tone dropped to a level of gravity I had never heard from him before. He was right, I had never seen him look this deeply unsettled. He let out an exhausted breath. "Listen to me very carefully. The only reason your athletic career is still booming with everything going on behind the scenes is because she allowed it."

Patrice Kwon. “Stop shaking, Lance.” Sonny beamed. Patrick looked at L who is seated at the back and is obviously out of himself. He knows he was putting this little boy in danger. But he has to get all the help he could need. “Trust on your strength, Lance. We have to save my sister.” He told him as he zoomed into the meeting place. -- “Rowell, check the area in the left. Anthony on the right. Seunghyun, attack the guards.” Patrick commanded his troupe. “Sonny, be ready. We’ll attack from the front.” He said with eyes burning in anger and hurt and pain.

Impulsively, he delivered a soft kiss to her forehead. “Okay,” he said, turning back to Clare. “Let’s check out the attic.” Back at the closet, Clare held the rocker as steady as she could as Patrick climbed onto the seat once again. He used the rod to lift the square and push it to one side then slid it through the opening. He then reached up and planted his hands on the attic floor, pulling himself up and through. While he was an accomplished runner, his upper body strength wasn’t as impressive, and by the time his head cleared the opening, his arms were trembling like cornstalks in a strong wind.

I continued wriggling as much as I could to escape. Patrick snorted again, placing his weight on me even more than he was already. “I will not kill you,” Patrick replied, sighing out quietly. “I wasn’t here to hurt anyone… just to scout. You just caught me off guard by coming to me,” he continues and then looks around at our location. He snorts out his nose and then bends down, grabbing my scruff in his maw. “Let go of me!” I yell out, hoping to catch someone’s attention, hoping they’re nearby. It doesn’t seem like I’ll have any luck though, so I continue to kick and lash out as much as I can as Patrick drags me along towards his pack’s land.

I just wished them the best ‘cause it's tough work. I can clearly saw what Patry is doing right now along with his co-representatives. I smiled as his handsomeness stood out so brightly that I could feel the butterflies in my stomach crumble. No injury for today, please. I want him safe, Lord. And as for the fake girl who faked her injury, I saw her viciously smiling while taking her advances. She got a towel on her hand trying to be near to Patry to wipe his face of course! What an evil witch. It’s just that what I’m relieved about was that he’s focused in having warm-up exercises rather than to give an attention to the vicious girl. Looks like she’s not embarrassed for what she did before,

“Mr. Morgan, people will see us; this is inappropriate!” “You should know I don't care about that; we'll have to take them off.” Smiling boldly, Patrick forcefully pulled the pants down. I put my hand over his, trying to stop him while looking around. “Are you crazy?” I exclaimed. “I'm not taking them off!” “Alright then, I'll take them off for you.” Biting my lip with pressure, I relaxed my hand, letting him pull the thin fabric off completely and dragging it down to my feet.

Do you really think the patient has enough strength to push her? Patrick looked guilty for a brief second but quickly covered it up with anger, raising his voice in defense. "That's nonsense! Vicky would never frame anyone!"

"Chelsea, his mother has cancer. A heart transplant won't cure her at all. Patrick is deliberately—" Before I could finish, Patrick suddenly began groveling. "Wyatt, I'll return everything I ever took from you, and I won't ever bother Chels and Callie anymore. I'm begging you! How much money do you want? I'll pay you for this, okay?" I felt chilled to the bone. I was so angry that I could barely speak. "I don't want your money! I want the heart! Give me back the heart!" "That's enough!" Chelsea yelled, exploding with rage as she yanked me back. "You'd fake being sick just to hurt Pat's mother? And you would even stir up trouble by playing on people's sympathy? You've really gone too far this