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He’s my patient. A s*x-addict, they call him. And we're already f***ing in my wet dreams. My rules say I must keep distance, but when he sits across from me, my pulse races and body betrays me. In my dreams, I don’t resist. His touch burns, his mouth claims mine, and the sound of his voice makes me ache with need. He whispers things no patient should ever say to his therapist. It feels so real I wake trembling, breathless, craving a man I should never touch. By day, I try to wear the mask of professionalism. But the truth is, I’m unraveling. And the most dangerous part? I don’t know how much longer I can keep it all locked away… I don’t want the dreams to stop. I want them to come true.