Falling In Love With Therapist Novels & Stories

I walked out of his office, through the waiting room, and into the parking lot before I let myself breathe. Oh no. Oh fuck. I was attracted to my therapist. My married, forty-year-old therapist who I was court-ordered to see for the next seven weeks. This was bad. This was really, really bad. --- That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about him. It didn't work. I kept seeing his face. His hands. The way he'd looked at me when I mentioned my mom's boyfriend. Like he cared. Like I mattered.

“I never really… I mean, I’ve tried, but it felt… weird. I stopped.” His smirk deepened, the piercing catching the light. “That explains a lot.” I gawked at him. “You’re supposed to be a therapist. Aren’t you meant to be… professional?” “I am being professional,” he said smoothly. “You came here because your ex called you boring. My job is to find out why you think that’s true. And right now, I see a woman who’s been too afraid to even touch herself. Tell me, Alessia - how can you expect to please anyone else when you don’t even know how to please yourself?”

Certain physical contact wasn't explicitly mentioned but was expected. The fact that Luke was so cautious told me that this client probably wasn't to be trifled with. Still, I smiled. "It's okay. I can handle it." I prepared myself and smiled professionally before heading into the private room. "Good day, sir. I'm your love therapist… for the day."

"You....you were in love with me? During our sessions?" "God, yes. From very early on. The way you'd cry and then laugh in the same breath. The way you'd challenge me when you thought I was wrong. The way you'd look at me with those eyes....like I was the only person who'd ever really seen you." He ran his hand through his hair. "I'm a professional, Sophia. I've been a therapist for twenty years. I've had hundreds of patients. And I've never.....never felt this way about any of them. Only you."

"You're strong, Fay. Very fucking strong." Silas whispered different words against my head and the more I absorbed it, the more I cried till he finally figured out why I was crying more and more and decided not to say anything as he rock my slowly in his arms, my head buried in his chest with my arms wrapped around his waist without me realising. To say that evening ended up turning out well was an understatement, it turned out quite strengthening. I had already accepted the fact that I was in love for quite a while, it just got more obvious after my last session with my therapist.

Loved him so much that she couldn't be with him. She knew Derrick thought himself in love with her, that she was his mate. Much as she wanted to believe that, she couldn't. He'd fallen for her only because, at the time, he depended on her. Acting as his therapist meant their close involvement brought them together and imbued him with a false sense of intimacy. I think the intimacy came from you letting him touch you.

I can finally express how much I love Cara. I can tell it’s certainly not lust I feel a question my therapist has thrown at me quite a few times. I’ve been sleeping great because Cara and I are now on good terms and the feeling of abandonment is starting to wear off knowing she didn’t just leave and end things with me because she wanted to but because she was looking out for me. I have not been this happy in so long . I keep whistling until I arrive at my therapist’s office . I highlight from the car and check myself out at the reflection on my window .

" Anyway, I can't accept this. I have standards that I can't accept patients whom I am related to." " We don't know each other, it's been 4 years." " Ahh, why are you doing this?" " Did I seem like I'm still in love with you or something? I'm here to find a solution for my anger and I don't think I'll open up to another therapist. Be professional." She looked at me for a minute then said, " You are a very clever lawyer." " I know." I smirked " Let's start. Talk."

She lifted her shirt slightly, exposing the area just below her collarbone, revealing a red, swollen spot. Rising to his feet, he moved behind her and placed his hand on the wound. A soft moan slipped past her lips at the contact. Heat rushed to her face, and she began to fidget, unsure how to react. As Jake applied the ointment, his gaze dropped to her breasts that were partially exposed beneath the shirt. He frowned, hating himself for the reaction it stirred. She wasn’t even well-endowed and lacked the practiced allure of the women he usually fucked yet she still affected him.

He made me feel worshipped. His thrusts were not hard but at the exact pace to increase the fire in me. His every peck were soft to show his care for me. He used my every soft spot to drive me towards the mindblowing orgasm which made my toes curl. He whispered how beautiful I look and how much he loves me while he made love to me. He filled me with his love while telling me he can't live without me. He made sure that I let out all my insecurities and fears along with my orgasms and gave me the thread to hold on, to develop trust for him.