Contemporary Web Novels & Doctor Twisted Stories

Kristine Davis nervously spreads her legs for a routine exam, only to realize the doctor is the ex she abandoned five years ago! She never expected her life to fall apart on a gynecology table, coming face to face with George, now a world-renowned gynecologist. What she doesn't know is that their breakup was built on a devastating misunderstanding, and that he never stopped loving her. Forced back into each other's lives, her most intimate care is now in the hands of this "very personal doctor". When Kristine blushes and mutters, "My private matters are none of your business!" George pulls her tightly in his arms, his voice low and dangerous: "Every inch of you has always been mine and this time, I won't let you disappear until you tell me the real reason you left.

They say love doesn't care when. It doesn't ask why. It doesn't lie. But for Sapphire Smith, her lover was a liar. She's almost perfect, but one problem stood in her way... Touch aversion. It's a condition she's lived with for eight years, and she desires to be free. After getting cheated on by her husband, Wilson DeVille, on their wedding night, she approached him—the Devil in disguise, Dr. Tristan DeVille, a psychologist. He broke her once more just to fix her to his taste. To him, she became his possession the moment she walked into that office. It was meant to be a psychologist-patient relationship. He craved more than that. She was supposed to be his sister-in-law, but she became his obsession. She wasn't someone he could escape. She was someone he didn't want to escape. He craved every inch of her, and now... he made her crave him too. She may call it love; for him, it wasn't. They say there is a very thin line between love and obsession. He saw the line as clear as day, and he chose to cross it. He knew love could never be enough to claim her. She had to be obsessed; only then would his desire to fight and claim her be fueled. He's her helper, she's his healer... Together, they'll redeem themselves, not in holiness but in sinful hell. Their world of craving and desire seemed perfect, until the secrets began unfolding... Secrets that threatened to break them apart. Would they fight, or would they let themselves drown in the darkness growing deep within them? She seeks healing from her devil. He seeks redemption from his angel. When darkness meets light, what happens? Destruction.

“See, malyshka, you walk in here wearing that little skirt and dare to talk about modesty?” I glanced down at my blazer skirt, heat crawling up my neck as his gaze dragged over my legs. “If I weren’t your patient…” He turned slightly, gesturing to the examination bed, his voice dropped dangerously low, “I'd put you right there and demonstrate… “Mr. Ferrari!” I snapped, leaping to my feet, my heartbeat pounding in my ear now. I had never met a man as vulgar, audacious, and devastatingly magnetic as Gideon Ferrari, especially not one wearing a hospital gown. My first therapy session with the sex-addict patient who should have been a simple case… became the moment my ordinary world spinned off its axis. I wasn’t supposed to think of him. I wasn’t supposed to dream of him. And I definitely wasn’t supposed to wake up breathless, aching, and ashamed of how desperately I wanted him. I prayed I’d never see him again. But part of me wondered, hoped, if he’d ever cross my path once more. When he did, everything changed. It became clear that there was more to this infuriating gorgeous Russian than meets the eye. He seemed too willingly to carry my weight and I had deep wounds from the past that needed healing but the problem was, he's already taken. Will we get away with satisfying our deepest dark desires in secret or will he eventually step up and claim me as his forever?

They know better. They do it anyway. A priest’s cassock shoved open inside a confessional that still smells of incense, old wood, and the metallic tang of the crucifix on the wall. A bodyguard’s rough hand clamped over a mouth in a darkened hotel suite while the thin line of hallway light cuts under the door. A mechanic’s oil-stained fingers digging into bare hips as he takes a rich woman over the warm hood of her own black sedan under hard fluorescent light. Strangers fucking standing in rising floodwater, clothes half-off, while rain hammers the street grates above them and red emergency lights flicker across wet concrete and skin. Fifty separate stories. Over a hundred and fifty chapters of deliberate, explicit sin. Every setting is different. Every hunger is specific. Every line that should never have been crossed gets crossed anyway—hard, wet, and without apology. No soft edges. No fade-to-black. No one walks away clean.