The Unfilial Boss Woman

Chapter 4

Patrick stared at Loveth's natural face, his gaze lingering on her soft pink lips. Without hesitation, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his, kissing her hungrily and savoring their taste.

Loveth responded, but it was clear she didn’t know how to kiss. Her movements were hesitant and clumsy—she licked his lower lip, unsure of what to do. Patrick smiled faintly and pulled back, parting his lips from hers. He stared at her flushed face, then leaned back on the bed, sitting upright.

"So you don’t want to suck me," Patrick said, his voice low and filled with frustration. "But I feel hot and sick with you here. Just a little warmth from you won’t hurt. I promise."

Loveth couldn’t resist him. Her body betrayed her as she felt drawn to him, her core aching with a strange need she didn’t fully understand.

Patrick reached for her maid's gown and stripped it off, tossing it carelessly onto the tiled floor. Even in his drunken state, his eyes roamed over her exposed figure, admiring her full, shapely body. Her curves were perfect—her "watermelons," as he called them, were larger than he had imagined.

He took his time, unclasping her bra and sliding her innerwear off as well. "How old are you?" Patrick asked, his voice husky with curiosity. Her youthful face made her look innocent, but her body told a different story.

"I’m 20 years old," Loveth said softly, her voice hoarse and trembling. "I’ll be 21 next year, in January." Her cheeks burned red with embarrassment as she noticed his intense stare.

"Hmm," Patrick murmured, rubbing her bare skin, his hands roaming as he tried to ignite her desire.

Loveth moaned softly, biting her lower lip in an attempt to stifle the sound. She felt utterly embarrassed by the noises escaping her lips but couldn’t stop herself. She didn’t push him away—she couldn’t, even though she knew he was drunk.

Whatever Patrick was doing to her was awakening something unfamiliar and powerful inside her. It was a sensation she had never experienced before, and she didn’t want him to stop.

Patrick kissed her lips again, his hands traveling downward, exploring her body. When his fingers found her core, she gasped sharply, her wide eyes locking onto his.

In the dim blue light of the room, Patrick looked incredibly handsome. His dark, chiseled features, broad chest, and smooth muscles made Loveth’s heart race with both fear and excitement. She couldn’t stop staring at him, even as she felt his arousal pressing against her.

Loveth’s thoughts drifted to stories her friends had told her about dark, handsome men. She had always thought she was missing out, and now, being here with Patrick, she wanted to know what it felt like.

Patrick finally shifted, positioning himself over her. Loveth’s gaze stayed on him, her heart pounding as he leaned closer. He was drunk, and she could see it in his blurry eyes, but his movements were deliberate.

Patrick was consumed by his desire. Thoughts of Willow, who had broken his heart, faded from his mind. Loveth was beautiful, and in this moment, he wanted her more than anything else.

Similarly, Patrick moved lower, parting her legs gently. Loveth didn’t stop him—she parted them wider, though her nervous smile betrayed her inexperience. Patrick leaned forward, his head dipping between her thighs.

Loveth shuddered as his lips touched her most sensitive spot. She gasped loudly, her legs instinctively closing around his head. Her hands clutched his hair as she tried to process the overwhelming sensation.

"Stop!" Loveth cried, shutting her legs tightly to block him. She was trembling, shocked by what he had just done.

Patrick raised his head, licking his lips as he met her wide-eyed gaze. She looked beautiful, her face flushed and filled with uncertainty. At that moment, Patrick forgot about Willow entirely. All he wanted was Loveth.

He leaned closer, positioning himself to take her fully. Loveth didn’t resist this time. She anticipated it, her body aching for him, even though she didn’t fully understand what was about to happen.

But when Patrick finally thrust into her, shattering her innocence, Loveth let out a scream of pain. Her hands flew to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as tears streamed down her face.

"Stop! Please, it hurts!" she cried, her voice filled with anguish. She tapped on his back, begging him to stop.

Patrick was lost in the moment, his desire clouding his judgment. He groaned, loving how tight and warm she felt, but her cries eventually pierced through his haze. He slowed, then stopped, staring down at her tear-streaked face.

Realization hit him—she wasn’t just in pain; she was also scared. Patrick took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. He remembered he hadn’t used any protection, but the thought of stopping to get one made him hesitate. If he withdrew now, she might refuse him altogether, and he didn’t want to force her.

Deciding against stopping, Patrick moved slowly, giving her time to adjust to his size. As he continued, he quickened his pace again, unable to control himself. Loveth clung to him, her body trembling beneath him.

Finally, Patrick reached his climax, collapsing on top of her as his body shuddered with release. He buried his face in her neck, his hot breath brushing against her skin. Moments later, he fell into a deep sleep, his weight pinning her to the bed.

Loveth wiped away her tears as reality set in. She tried to push Patrick off, but he was too heavy. Her hands ended up rubbing his arms instead.

She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing. She had only come to deliver his dinner—Mrs. Eleanor had insisted because Patrick had a weak stomach—but now she had ended up in his bed.

Loveth remembered hearing that drunk men often forgot what happened the next day. She wondered if Patrick would even remember what had just occurred between them.

When Patrick finally rolled off her, she slid out of bed quietly. She searched the room for her discarded clothes, finding her maid uniform on the tiled floor. She quickly put her bra and panties back on before slipping into her uniform.

Loveth glanced at Patrick, who was snoring softly, his towel barely covering him. She used the same towel to fully cover his body, then stepped away from the bed. Her eyes landed on the tray of untouched food on his study table.

She sighed, feeling a pang of guilt. She had come to ensure he ate, but now everything had gone wrong.

Loveth darted out of the room, rushing back to the second floor where the maids’ quarters were. She ignored the suspicious look from the head maid, Aria Jameson and quickly entered her own room, locking the door behind her.

Collapsing onto her bed, Loveth tried to calm her racing heart. Her body still ached, and she could still feel the phantom sensation of Patrick inside her.

She sobbed quietly, overwhelmed by the events of the night. "I could have just pushed him away," she whispered to herself, tears streaming down her face.

Loveth resolved to pretend as though nothing had happened, especially if Patrick didn’t remember. But deep down, she knew she had started to admire him.

Finally, she lay back down, trying to push the night’s events from her mind. Sleep eventually claimed her, though her dreams were filled with Patrick’s face and the memory of his touch.