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makeyoumine69 · 2 days ago

Note

Hi Lexi! I want to thank you for giving us such a fantastic Patrick Bateman content! You are our blessing, I swear! Also, I was pretty much obsessed with your story called Daddy Knows Best. I don't know what happened to me, but I can't stop reading it! Have you ever considered continuing it and writing a sequel? Maybe something with mutual masturbation or quiet sex? Anyway, feel free to ignore this request, I will be happy to read anything you feed us!

Daddy Knows Best 2.0

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You are stuck in the bathroom with horny Patrick while your parents are somewhere nearby.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Smut, Daddy kink, mild praise kink, pussy/tit play, mutual masturbation, fingering, vaginal sex, finger sucking, quite sex (kinda), dirty talk, pet names, humiliation (a bit).

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 1.5k

𝐀/𝐍: Hey everyone, I'm sorry for not being active since I'm not in the best mental state, but I hope you like this little piece of writing! Thanks for sending me this request!

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST]; [Daddy Knows Best 1.0]

A trembling, almost desperate whimper escaped your swollen lips when Patrick's thumb traced your damp underwear with natural possessiveness, as if you already belonged to him alone. And was he not right?

An innocent game has turned into steamy foreplay and now you were beginning to think that teasing this man when you were both in your family's house was not the best idea. But here you were—pinned against the cold bathroom counter, barely breathing and soaking wet as Bateman pressed his muscular body against you, forcing you to spread your legs with his knee and the next moment you were already grinding against his leg.

"Patrick..." you gasped, but he immediately captured your mouth with his hot one and the kiss was plandering, lustful like every move he made. "Mmhm," your muffled moan spurred him to pull you close to his sturdy frame as his hands made their way down your arse, kneading the malleable flesh and barely stopping himself from giving it a hard, loud smack. "Oh-Gosh..."

After he broke the kiss, he took your chin a little too roughly, but not really painfully. "Shhh," Patrick hissed and stroked your cheek in a soothing way, just to give you a faint hope that nothing criminal would happen. "You don't want your parents to hear us, do you?"

The man lowered his hand to encircle your neck and tilted your head back to run his tongue along your pulsating artery, sensing your heart beating wildly. All words of protest stuck in your throat like a lump—you were like a puppet, and Bateman was your creator, pulling the strings so masterfully without even adding pressure.

"I don't...but," you mused suddenly as you gazed into his dark eyes, his pupils dilating with every passing moment, the soft ruffles of his garments adding to the effect. "They will soon notice our absence."

With a wolfish grin, Patrick gave your cheekbone a quick kiss, never losing his grip on you. "Then be a good girl for Daddy and unbuckle my belt."

No suspenders today, huh?

Looking down at you, the man watched your slight hesitation and confusion, but as you slowly placed both hands on his bulging groin and began to work carefully on the buckle of his belt, his cock grew even harder. For a second, Bateman thought he was going to fucking explode in his pants from how much he wanted you here and now. And the thought of your parents downstairs, unaware of the sins happening in their daughter's bathroom, was like an extra cherry on top of an already delicious dessert.

After the leather belt was removed, you didn't wait for his further instructions, but absentmindedly unzipped his pants, never breaking eye contact as you knew that was what he loved most. A small bathroom began to get even smaller, the air heavy with arousal and depravity. Bateman could only wish you were stuck somewhere else—your room might be a better option, with plenty of surfaces to fuck you on—but now he was going to use whatever he could.

The moment you pulled down his silk briefs, stopping halfway, a searing wave of heat rushed through your system. Patrick's flesh was so hot, craving attention, that it pulsed against your hand and you had to pull it away in fear of burning yourself.

"What's wrong, honey?" He purred, catching your hand to make you grasp his erected cock with sheer demand. "Don't tell me you're embarrassed," the man tugged at the top of your dress in one swift motion, revealing one of your breasts, then outlined the hard nipple with his thumb. "You've gone too far to be afraid now."

Desperately gasping for air, you stroked him, slowly at first, feeling his large palm slide against yours as your guide. "I'm not afraid," you replied spontaneously, making him snicker in awe. "But my father will probably kill you if he finds out."

Patrick tittered and pinched your taut peak, eliciting a muffled whimper from your lips—the sound alone sent shivers down his spine and you felt his dick throbbing in your grasp as you gave him another pump.

"Oh, please," he crooned, using his free hand to lift the hem of your dress and fold it around your waist, exposing your tight black stockings. "I've already told your parents I'm going to marry you."

Biting your lower lip, you whimpered quietly at the feverish sensation in your lower abdomen as Bateman pressed his fingers to your oozing pussy, rubbing in slow circles to feel how wet you were.

"I thought," you paused and exhaled sharply, your hand sliding up and down his length like clockwork. "That it was a joke."

Amused, Patrick leaned in and pecked your sensitive lips before licking them just to tease you—only to have you beg for more. The friction of your soft skin against his rock hard cock was overwhelming, drastically increasing his heart rate despite his best efforts to pretend he was still in control of his emotions and desires. As if his basic instincts weren't kicking in at all.

"You want this to be a joke, sweetheart?" He taunted you a bit, his voice sounded like a sweet mantra as he pressed his lips to your ear, peppering the skin around it with light, feathery kisses while one hand still controlled your strokes along his shaft and another was busy tracing invisible lines along your lower lips.

"I..." you could barely speak. "I...don't...know...I..."

"I never thought I'd meet someone as bratty as you." He muttered against your mouth, moving your underwear aside to stick two fingers into your slippery cunt at the same time, drawing a wet sound that made you both gasp and stop moving for a second. Everything about him kept you on the edge every fucking time, the heat that radiated from his strong body, the idea of how much bigger he was, how easily he could dominate you and bend you to his will, this man was irresistible on every level. As he began to twist and curl his long fingers to hit the most sensitive spot, you thought you would fall to the floor from the sudden weakness in your knees, but Bateman held you tightly in his arms, burying his digits deeper until only the knuckles were visible. "Fuck, I love seeing you like this."

Bateman had to grit his teeth and suppress his own moans as the two of you gave each other vigorous handjobs at the same time, but neither of you wanted to give in, this was not a sprint, this was a fucking marathon.

"Daddy," you whimpered abruptly, provoking him to give you another lingering kiss on the lips, his tongue invading your mouth without shame, his fingers buried deep inside you. "I can't breathe...it's so hot in here."

Patrick's muffled laughter echoed off the bathroom walls. "Breathe into me," he replied whispering, finally removing his hand from yours, but that didn't stop you from jerking him off. "Use me as oxygen."

This dorkish nonsense only turned you on even more. It was so strange, maybe even weird, but every time Bateman said something like that, it worked right. So fucking right that now it was impossible for you to stop yourself from smearing his pre-cum around his swollen tip, teasing him, inflaming him, playing on the strings of his twisted mind. It was dangerous but so tantalizing to see this man literally drinking you up like his last sip of water.

Mewling into his lips, you slid your hand lower to massage his balls, making him groan and fingerfuck you harder, but now it seemed like it was not enough for either of you. Things changed too quickly as he turned you over and pressed against your back, pushing his glistening fingers into your mouth to make sure you could taste yourself on them.

"Good girl...keep licking yourself off my fingers," Patrick sneered into your ear, and after stroking himself several times, he aligned himself with your tight hole and thrust inside. The fullness he delivered was amazing. "Is this... what you've been waiting for all night?"

The man pulled his fingers out to play with your taut clit, rubbing it between them with skillful precision. "F-fuck," you almost bit your tongue to stifle the moans as he sank deeper, his thick cock rubbing so fucking deliciously against your soft inner walls, and though the pace was slow at first, you were already so lightheaded that you had to cling to the bathroom counter in front of you, ignoring the half-fogged mirror. "I can f-feel you...so deep...Daddy...a-ahhh-holy shit...mhm!

Bateman shushed you with his palm faster than any loud sounds could escape your mouth. "Uh, it's such a waste that you can't be really vocal right now," he growled, snapping his hips against yours and tugging at your hair to make you look into the mirror, and as soon as your eyes met, Patrick winked and placed a gentle peck on the top of your head—an act of pure mockery. "See, darling? You are literally a work of art."

Needless to say, this man had a very wicked taste in art.