BDSM Therapy by Nora Skye

For Danielle Jones, a twenty-two years old graphic designer, life would be good… if it wasn’t for the anxiety disorder and panic attacks. Every day is a struggle for her, and nothing seems to be helping. She has tried every form of therapy.

Dani’s terrified. The six-feet tall, thirty-seven year old man looks like a total barbarian, with broad shoulders, muscles like a WWE wrestler and a stern face… But when he agrees to take Danielle under his wing and then slowly starts to ease her into the world of Submission, she discovers that there’s a fun and charming man hiding under the facade of a brute.

Jacob’s rough, strong and… unbelievably hot. The way he orders Danielle around, the way he pleasures her body and disciplines her mind, is mindblowing.

But Jacob has a secret. A secret that keeps him from opening his heart to the young woman.

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A wave of unexpected heat washes over me as the hand on my back travels to my other hip and Jacob pulls me down, while simultaneously thrusting his hips up.
I swallow a moan at the sensation of his hardness between my legs. Even through the materials of his jeans and my leggings separating us, I can feel his member at my core.
Oh God.
I flush and my hands start shaking, so I take them off of Jacob’s shoulders, hoping he didn’t notice, and I wrap my arms around his neck.
“Now, since we covered the basic terms, let’s talk about my rules.”
His husky voice reveals he’s just as turned on by our proximity as I am. His cock straining against his jeans might be another proof of that, but maybe he’s just horny and that doesn’t have anything to do with me.
Maybe.
“You have rules?”
“Oh yeah. First: you will address me as Sir, but you may also use my name. Some Doms don’t really like it, but I don’t mind as long as you treat me with respect.”
“Okay,” I nod. “Respect. Got that.”
“Second: you will obey me in everything. No hesitation, no overthinking. Leave that to me. If you ever feel uncomfortable or anxious or you want to stop the session in general, just use a safeword. Most women like to use the word ‘red’, but you might pick anything that suits you.”
“Labrador,” I say the first thing that comes to my mind, and it earns me a deep, rumbling laugh from Jacob. His chest rises in the process, grazing against my T-shirt and bra-covered boobs. The slow, sensual friction makes my nipples harden and I wonder if Jacob can feel it.
“A really interesting choice,” he says and I smile. He’s obviously not as stuck-up and rough as he appears to be.
I am in so much trouble.
“I’m just kidding. I’ll stick with red, Sir.”
His blue eyes find mine and I can see the approval in them. He smiles, revealing those killer dimples and I almost melt right then and there.
“Good girl. You’re a quick learner. I like that,” he says and then next thing I know one of his hands land at the back of my neck, pushing my head forward until our faces are an inch apart.
The warmth of his body, his proximity and his minty breath mixed with the scent of his cologne hit me with an indescribable desire. My lips tingle with anticipation and with every passing second I become more and more aware of the feeling of his jeans-covered hardness between my legs and the soft touch of his warm fingers at my neck. Waiting for him to kiss me, to finally put his soft lips on mine, I get more and more horny, while he just studies my face calmly, waiting for God knows what.
Oh, fuck this.
I tangle my hand in his dirty-blonde hair at the back of his head and lean forward with the intention of finally kissing him. Our lips must be a millimeter apart when my head gets abruptly pulled back by a hand tangled in my hair and I feel a hard slap on my ass.
“Rule number three…” Jacob mutters harshly. “Never try to take the initiative.”
He then lets go of my hair and I look at him, shock clear on my face.
“Patience pays off, Danielle, and disobedience… doesn’t.”