Sinful session with my therapist

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 1✪2

𖣘

DANIELLA POV.

The library was supposed to help me focus, but instead of concentrating on my textbook, my mind betrayed me again, slipping back to the dreams that left me waking breathless at night.

I closed my eyes, pressing my fingers against my temple. In my dreams, it was always the same; shadows, whispers, a man’s hand gripping my wrist, pulling me into something I desperately wanted.

Laughter echoed across the aisle, pulling me out of my thoughts. A group of girls had settled into the next table, their voices too loud for a library.

"Have you heard about Doctor Jeffrey?" one of them said, lowering her voice just enough to sound secretive. "I went to him yesterday… I told him about my s£x life and about how I never enjoyed having s£x with James and do you know what he said?” My ears perked up, trying to listen too even though I hadn’t planned to eavesdrop.

“ He told me, bluntly, that 'if a man can’t satisfy you, he doesn’t deserve you.' Just like that."

The other girl gasped, then giggled. "God, I heard he’s so blunt and doesn’t beat around the bush at all. Honestly… I think that’s why I’m fangirling over him."

Their laughter echoed in my head long after they stopped talking.

Doctor Jeffrey?

I’d heard the name before, in whispers, in rumors that made people blush. Especially here at school. The students always talked about him being dangerously honest and said things that made people question themselves.

Before I knew it, my laptop was open in front of me. One quick search and there he was.

His picture filled the screen, and for a moment Ijust stared at my screen, blinking. He wasn’t what I expected. Not stiff and gray like other therapists. He looked… sharp. Handsome in a way that didn’t feel safe loke one of those men from the stories I wasn’t supposed to read, men with dark eyes who knew too much.

Below the picture was a button. "Make an appointment now."

I stared at it for a long moment, my thumb hovering over the keyboard as I swallowed. I shouldn’t... But I did.

The page loaded into a form asking for my name, age, and reason for wanting to see him. My throat went dry in that instant. What was I supposed to write? "Nightmares"? "Loneliness?" None of those were the whole truth.

The truth was messier. I’d always been curious about s£x. Growing up under my mother’s strict rules of ‘no parties, no boyfriends,’ forced me to hide that curiosity. But the dreams made it stronger, filling me with feelings I didn’t understand. I wanted to know what it felt like. 

My fingers moved before I could second-guess myself.

S£x.

I hit send.

The reply came almost immediately. An appointment. Tomorrow 10.A.M.

"That was fast," I muttered under my breath, snapping my laptop shut. My heart was racing like I’d just done something dangerous.

I packed my books and left the library, ignoring the ache in my professor’s eyes when I lied about feeling sick. I couldn’t sit in another class today, not with my mind buzzing.

By the time I got home, my mom had left a message with the head chef..."I won’t be back until tomorrow evening."

Relief washed over me because that meant there was no strict eyes, no endless rules, just silence. My mom had made sure I grew up like a freaking nun, no freedom, and no friends as she calls them distraction... Just books and grades and a suffocating kind of perfection.

I dropped my bag, went upstairs and locked my door. The shower washed away the library’s dust, but not the heat rushing in my veins. After a quick dinner, I stretched out on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

Tomorrow I would meet him... Doctor Jeffrey.

The man who already lived in my thoughts and slowly, I drifted off to sleep.

But then, I woke up and couldn’t sleep again. It was the same dream.

For weeks, maybe months, I had been waking up breathless, my sheets damp with sweat, my thighs pressed tight together as if they could stop the heat burning inside me. Every dream was the same...hands that weren’t mine, a mouth whispering dirty things against my ear, a body pressing me down until I woke gasping for something I’d never even tasted.

I had never been touched. Not really, not the way I dreamed about, and yet, my body wanted to be.

I waited until morning, and when it came, instead of school, I dressed up and left the house, ready for my appointment.

Whispers of Doctor Jeffery still followed me from passerbys. Just how good was he?

I swallowed, then stared at the appointment I had booked with this private Psychosexual therapist everyone in Bloomington whispered about.

Some said he was blunt, maybe too blunt. A man who didn’t sugarcoat the truth. Some even said his sessions could ruin marriages, but they also said he was the best. That he understood cravings in a way no one else did.

And now I found myself standing outside his office, palms sweating, heart racing like a guilty schoolgirl about to confess.

The plaque on the door read..."Jeffrey Cross, Psychos£xual Therapist."

I knocked once and my knuckles barely made contact before a deep, steady voice called, "Come in."

I pushed the door opened, stepping into the office and the first thing I noticed wasn’t the smell of books or the leather chair in the corner. It was him.

Jeffrey sat behind his desk, sleeves rolled to his elbows, two buttons undone, dark hair falling carelessly over his forehead, and silver eyes so piercing I almost forgot how to breathe. He looked... handsome in person than photos, shaper, dangerous in a way no therapist should.

"Daniella Wilson, twenty, final year?" His voice was low and smooth like it already knew too much about me.

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Y-Yes."

He nodded towards the empty chair across his desk and I forced myself to sit as he picked up a clipboard from the desk, glancing through it.

"Your appointment said s£x... are you comfortable talking about intimate details with me?” He asked. 

My eyes widened and I shook my head so quickly it was a miracle it didn’t snap from my neck, "Yeah... I...I came because I… I’ve been having these repeating dreams."

He leaned back slightly, letting a slow, knowing smile spread across his face. “I like to be blunt,” he said. “ You must have done your research about me to know what you should be expecting, but telling you again wouldn’t hurt. Some of my questions will be very personal, s£xual in nature. Are you willing to discuss that with me?”

I had never shared my dreams or desires with anyone before, but now the opportunity was right in front of me, and it strangely made my insides twist with anticipation.

I hesitated, my pulse hammering then nodded. “Yes… I think I am.”

“Good,” he murmured, his smirk deepening. “Bold girls… curious girls… they learn fastest.”

I nodded again, watching his lips curved slightly, but it wasn’t a smile. It was more like a knowing smirk. "So you were talking about…. Dreams?"

Heat rose to my cheeks. The way he said it made me swallowed. "Yeah. Dreams about… things. About being touched."

He leaned back in his chair, studying me like I was something to unravel slowly. His silence made my skin prickle.

Finally, he said, "And you like these dreams, don’t you?"

My throat went dry, and I couldn't reply but then, he raised one of his eyebrows and it dawned on me that he needed an answer.

"I think." My voice came out in a whisper.

"You think?"

"I do, I mean." I admitted.

For a moment, the room was too quiet. Then he tilted his head, eyes narrowing with something that wasn’t exactly professional. "Since you’ve agreed to be open… tell me, Daniella, do your dreams ever make your body respond physically?

I froze, my heart hammering so loud I thought he could hear it.

He smirked again, almost cruelly, but there was a pull in it too. "Don’t be shy. You came here because you can’t handle it anymore, isn’t that right? You want someone to make sense of this hunger, if possible, quench it for you."

And the worst part was… he was right.

I nodded slowly, shame burning through me. "Y...yes."

"Good," he said softly, leaning forward on the desk, his piercing eyes locked on mine, “Then let’s see just how deep those dreams go… and whether you’re brave enough to face them.”

My pulse thundered. I wasn’t sure if I’d come here for answers or to be ruined… or maybe both.

I sat there with my hands clenched tightly together on my lap waiting for doctor Jeffery to speak up.

Finally, he leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, his eyes never leaving mine.

"So, what have you done so far," he asked slowly, "to overcome these… urges of yours?"

I swallowed hard, searching for something to say, but the truth slipped out in a small, almost embarrassed voice. "I… I couldn’t figure it out. That’s why I’m here."

For the first time since I entered his office, he didn’t look mocking. His expression shifted into something thoughtful, then he nodded as though weighing his words carefully.

"Well," he began in that calm, professional tone, "as a therapist, I’d advise you to start with discipline. When the thoughts come, distract yourself. Exercise, take cold showers. Keep your mind busy...studies, work, anything. Write down the triggers, and avoid them. Slowly, your brain will redirect itself."

I found myself nodding as I listened, taking mental notes of everything he said. His voice was steady, and confident and in that moment, I believed maybe there was a way out.

He paused, watching me closely as I paid attention. Then, without warning, he tilted his head and a faint smirk touched his lips.

"Is that what you wanted to hear?"

I blinked at him, confused. "Huh?"

He chuckled lowly..."Those don’t work. You can write a hundred journals and take a thousand cold showers, and still end up right here...burning, craving s£x."

My lips parted, but before I could form a reply, he leaned forward, resting his elbows against his desk, his voice dropping.

"Why not bring those f#cked up dreams into reality... That's the only reasonable solution. Don’t hold back"

The bluntness of his words struck me so hard I froze, my mouth hanging open. My heart thudded against my ribs and my face felt hot, burning under his gaze. I must have looked completely startled, and flushed because his smirk widened. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied me, and then he muttered under his breath, almost like he was speaking to himself...

"A v*rgin?"

I swear, every muscle in my body went stiff. I didn’t even realize how tightly I was gripping the edge of my chair until my fingers ached. My palms were sweaty, and my throat had run dry. Doctor Jeffrey’s gaze had pinned me in place.

He stood up, the sound of his chair scraping back against the tiled floor sending a shiver racing down my spine. Every step he took toward me echoed inside the quiet room. He wasn’t rushing. No...he moved slowly, his presence pressing into my thoughts, making it impossible to look away

"Since you’ve agreed to be open with me," he murmured, "let’s explore what your dreams mean… and what they make you feel. You can tell me if it gets uncomfortable,”

I nodded, my pulse thudding against my throat.

And then he leaned down, his soft cologne brushing against me before he even spoke. His mouth hovered close to my ear, his voice dropping lower, rougher, almost a whisper.

"Tell me, Daniella,…"

God, the way he said my name suddenly made me aware of how close to me he was.

"In those dreams," he continued, his breath tickling my skin, "did he kiss your neck? Slowly… until you begged him not to stop?"

I swallowed hard, unable to answer as heat rushed to my cheeks. I could hear my own shallow and unsteady breathing.

He didn’t wait for me to digest those words.

"Did he touch your b00bs?" His tone was dark and dangerous. "Squeeze them so hard your back ached?… Did he suck them until you thought you’d lose your mind?"

My thighs clenched together before I could stop myself. My entire body felt like it was betraying me. I shook my head weakly, but my silence was enough response.

"Or maybe," Jeffrey murmured, his lips so close to my ear I swore they brushed it, "he spread your legs wide and made you drip all over yourself. Did you let him?"

I bit my bottom lip so hard I tasted blood.

"You did, didn’t you?" he whispered. "Or did he stop before you came?"

My body trembled. His words painted every hidden part of me, every dirty thought I had never dared say aloud. It was as if he had climbed into my mind and seen it all.

"I...I didn’t…" My voice cracked. I couldn’t look at him.

He smirked, I could hear it in his voice. "Didn’t what? Didn’t beg? Didn’t c*m? Or didn’t want him to stop?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, a breathy, needy whimper escaping me. 

"You have to use your words, Daniela. That way you’ll understand your hunger, own it instead of hiding it. You think denying it will make it disappear?"

I tried to answer, but the words tangled on my tongue.

He circled slowly around me, and I felt him behind my chair now. My shoulders stiffened as his shadow fell across me and his deep voice came again, this time right against my other ear.

"Tell me,… after those dreams, do you touch yourself?"

My heart stopped, mind going back to my dreams and damn, I was so dripping wet I could feel the sticky discomfort in my panties.

"Do you slip your hand between your thighs at night, fínger yourself until you can’t breathe?"

My mouth opened, but no sound came out. My pulse thundered in my ears more loudly, his words so raw it felt like it could strip me bare without him even touching me.

"Or do you lie there, aching, dripping, too afraid to admit how badly you want to be ruined? How badly you need release... How badly you don't want to be innocent?"

A small whimper escaped me before I could choke it down. My skin burned. I wanted to run. I wanted to stay. I wanted...God, I didn’t even know what I wanted anymore.

"Did he ever used his tongue on you? Licking it all clean,”

I close my eyes, pressing my thigh tighter together, a low involuntary moan escaping my lip before I could stop it. Tears stung my eyes, not from sadness but from the unbearable shameless pleasure building inside me. He wasn’t even touching me...just words, just that deep voice, just his breath ghosting against my neck and I was a wet mess.

He leaned lower and for a terrifying, thrilling second I thought his mouth would finally meet my skin, but he stopped just close enough to let me imagine it.

"You’ll learn something with me," Jeffrey whispered. "Words and thoughts can awaken what you’ve been holding back… desires you’ve never dared explore.”

I swallowed, pressing my aching thigh even tighter. I wanted to deny it, to shake my head, but the truth was already in my body’s desperate reaction.

Then suddenly, there was silence. He pulled back, the heat of him vanishing from behind me.

When I finally opened my eyes and looked up, he was standing again in front of me, arms crossed, expression calm and almost clinical, if not for the wicked smirk playing on his face.

"That’s enough for today," he said smoothly. "Good girl. You’ll come back tomorrow."

I blinked at him, words failing me. Tomorrow? He said it with so much confident it made my stomach tighten.

His eyes dropped deliberately to my outfit, lingering there before meeting mine again. "Wear something easier to take off. I like my patients to be prepared."

I almost cursed at him. "I'm never stepping foot here again." I muttered.

He waved his hand at me dismissively like a professor ending class, as if he hadn’t just broken me open with words. I stumbled to my feet, my knees weak, my whole body trembling. I couldn’t meet his eyes as I grabbed my bag, my chest aching with confusion and shame.

"You’ll be back. women like you always come back to the one who knows how to break them properly," he teased and I bit on my lips hard, ignoring him.

As I walked out of his office, my mind screamed at me to never come back.

But my body whispered the opposite...Maybe he wasn’t lying, because I could already see myself returning.

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TBC