“Hello, Marissa,” Daniel greeted me and entered my office, arriving for his third one-on-one session.

“It’s good to see you again, Daniel,” I replied, checking out his business attire. He looked so damn good.

These days I couldn’t think of anyone else but him, and it was driving me crazy. Usually, I was good at eradicating unwanted thoughts, but Daniel was something else. He’d gotten under my skin.

I noticed the way he looked at me during our first two sessions. It was obvious that he wanted me as much as I wanted him, and our attraction growing ever stronger, making it difficult for me to resist him. I knew this wasn’t right because he was my client now, but each time he came to my office, I wanted him more — especially with the way he occasionally touched me during his last visits.

My body grew warm just thinking about him brushing my thigh with his beneath my desk or him moving his hand “accidentally” against me. It was tantalizing and making me lose focus. I was in danger of letting him do exactly what he wanted to, which wouldn’t have a good outcome at all.

Then again, I was conflicted, because I was sure he was into me only to feed his addiction. There was no other reason for his interest, which hurt a little if I was to be honest. Either way, it would be catastrophic if I allowed myself to lose control.

“How are you today?” I asked him, hoping to get distracted from my wayward thoughts.

He took a seat across from my desk, his lips curled into a slight smile. “I’m okay. I had way too many meetings, but that’s pretty typical.”

“I see that you’re a workaholic.”

“You could say that, but I love my work, as I mentioned to you during our dinner.”

He worked in the construction business, and he was one of the key players in the field. “Why did you choose a career in the construction field?”

“I have an engineering degree and I love working with buildings. Old buildings, new buildings—whether I have to renovate or construct from the ground up, I just enjoy doing it. It gives me a great sense of accomplishment. How about you? Why did you choose a career in sexology?”

We were going off on a tangent because our careers didn’t have anything to do with the reason why Daniel was here, but I enjoyed our small talk. I tried justifying this as making the client more relaxed, which would allow him to open up more during the future sessions, but that was a lie. I didn’t ask him these questions to make him more comfortable with me. I was genuinely curious and wanted to get to know him.

“I’ve always wanted to be a therapist, but I decided to focus on sexology in college. I’m especially interested in sexual development and issues that can arise from past trauma. Sex addiction is a pattern of behavior that has many causes, and I’m interested in dealing with those and solving them.”

“You seem to be good at what you do,” he said, smiling.

Even though my clients praised me all the time, hearing it from him meant so much more. I hoped my face didn’t reveal just how much I was affected by his words.

“Thank you, Daniel. Let’s start with today’s session. Okay?”

“I’m ready when you are.”

“Do you get enough rest?”

“Not much.”

“The lack of sleep can only add to your stress levels, which is connected with your addiction. If you’re more stressed, you’ll have a stronger urge to get rid of it by using sex.”

“These days I haven’t had much action.”

I kept a neutral expression, even though I was thoroughly surprised. “How so?”

“Actually, scratch that. I haven’t slept with anyone since I started with therapy.”

Now, this was something else. “Do you know why that is?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Somehow, it didn’t seem worth it. I needed it, but whenever I was close to reaching that point, I couldn’t do it.”

I was astonished to hear this. I didn’t expect him to stop with his previous behavior this quickly. Then again, there could be some other underlying problem that caused him to act this way. I truly hoped that this was a sign of improvement.

“It is early to ask, but I will anyway. Do you think that this therapy is helping you in any way?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I feel comfortable talking to you, and you’ve helped me a lot.”

Even if he stopped sleeping around, he had to work on his other issue, which was about feeling nothing during sex. Only when he resolved this issue he would be cured.

“Some time without having sex can be good for you, as it can make a difference the next time you sleep with someone. Sometimes, a prolonged period of abstinence can actually help.”

My dirty mind worked against me because I immediately imagined sleeping with him. How would sex with Daniel feel? Would he feel anything, or would I just be another among many?

He smirked, his eyes gleaming mischievously, and I was afraid he could see right through me. “You think?”

I slipped out of my work mode too easily, forgetting about professional ethics or what was right or wrong. In this moment, touching him felt more than right.

I wanted to rip his clothes off and run my hands over his chest. I wanted to lick every single muscle, and just thinking about it warmed my pussy.

I shifted in my seat, imagining his hand reaching my mound underneath my desk and rubbing it. I clamped my mouth shut to prevent a moan from escaping me.

I was so screwed. “Yes.” I cleared my throat, trying my hardest to maintain my composure. He was a client with a sexual addiction. I mustn’t forget that.

The rest of our session passed without the sexual tension, for which I was more than grateful.

“I’m going now. Thank you for today, Marissa.”

I stood up to see him out and reached for the door handle when he turned me around and pushed me against the wall.

“Daniel? What are you—”

“No. Fuck this. I need to kiss you.”

He slammed his lips against mine, not allowing me to reply. I stood still for a second before the initial shock passed and I returned his kiss. His tongue slid into my mouth and stroked mine fervently, making my whole body burn with desire.

I moaned into his mouth, wrapping my arms around his neck to draw him closer to me. I couldn’t think. I was growing restless under his hand that ran down my body, feeling my every curve, and my pussy grew wet.

“I want you so badly. You have no idea what you’re doing to me. I can’t suppress this anymore.”

He wrapped my leg around his waist and stepped closer to me, allowing me to feel his hard cock pressing against my pussy. Not able to resist, I ground against him, moaning when his cock brushed across my clit, making me wetter.

“Daniel,” I breathed out, completely dazed. “We... We can’t...”

“Yes, we can.” I didn’t recognize his voice, which was hoarse and deeper.

He latched onto my neck and left a line of open-mouthed kisses over my skin, which felt electric. I allowed him to pick me up and bring me to my desk, snaking my legs around him when he stepped in between my legs. This time I initiated the kiss, needing his taste more than anything...

His soft lips opened, allowing me to take possession of his mouth, while he worked on the buttons of my blouse.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” he said. “I can’t get you out of my head. I need to feel your skin. I need to see all of you.”

His lips traveled down my neck and lower, but then I stopped him before things could go any further, finally managing to think rationally. We couldn’t be doing this because it wouldn’t end well at all.

“Daniel.” I pushed his hands away, shaking my head at him. “No. This is wrong.”

He frowned, his eyes sliding down to my half-exposed breasts in a lace bra. “But we both want it.”

I pushed him away and slid off the desk, putting the distance between us. “We can’t do this. You’re my client, and this is going to damage our professional relationship.”

“Fuck our professional relationship,” he growled, getting angrier by second. “You want this as much as I want it, so why should we keep fighting against it?”

I buttoned up my blouse and cast him a serious glance. “It’s wrong. And I’m afraid you’re interested in me only because of your addiction. It would be crazy to start something that would end badly for us both. You’re my client, Daniel, and I refuse to cross that line.”

His whole body went rigid, his facial features twisting with suppressed fury, and my chest inflated with anxiety.

“Fine,” he muttered and picked up his jacket from the chair. “As you wish. I’m sorry, I won’t try anything like that again.”

He stormed out of my office before I could say anything, leaving me to gape at him in utter confusion. With a long sigh, I sat on my chair and touched my swollen lips with my fingertips. I was still breathing heavily—clear proof of how much he affected me—feeling more confused than ever. What had I just done? What the hell just happened?