Twisted Therapist

Dirty Wild Sultan

He is her first love. She is his best friend’s little sister.
Will a chance reunion lead to true love?

I was a good girl. An honor student.
A dutiful daughter, sister and a sweet girlfriend to my boyfriend until I found him in my best friend’s bed.
I didn’t want goody-two-shoe nice boys who gave me empty promises.
What I wanted was a man who wouldn’t hurt me.
When I found my brother’s best friend, Aiden Stone, with only a towel around his hot Greek body dripping wet from a shower, I decided that what I wanted, what I had been wanting for years, was him.
The only problem? He is a decade older than me, my brother’s best friend, a therapist who wants to counsel me and…
he likes to hurt little girls like me.

Twisted Therapist is an age gap brother’s best friend forbidden romance. It is the first book in the new adult sweet, steamy and forbidden Dominating Desires Series.

If you like raw emotions, age-gap romance, passionate HEAs with sizzling hot scenes, then you’ll love Mahi Mistry’s Dominating Desire Series.

Buy Twisted Therapist to start the sweet
romantic series today!

Preview of Twisted Therapist

Ivy Knight

“I am so sorry, Aiden, the traffic was so bad,” I heaved, taking support of my knees to control my breathing. So much for dressing up in a cute dress, applying light makeup and curling my hair in waves just for the session. I wiped down the sweat from forehead and straightened up, daring to peek at him. 

Aiden looked like he always did. His angular face stern without any traces of emotions flickering on his face. His eyes travelled down my body and I held in my shiver when they raked over my bare legs. 

He made a dramatic point of checking his wristwatch that cost more than the car that I drove and hummed. “We will talk about your tardiness after the session. Sit.”

I quickly sat down and drank some water, the breeze of the air conditioner cooling my skin. The session started, and we made usual talk about my day, what happened that week or if anything exciting happened that I wanted to share with him.  

“How did your journaling go?” 

We talked more about the days where I would write two-three pages a day or days when I could barely write a paragraph. He listened to me and asked questions when I would stop talking, urging me to drink water and keep going. 

“Do you mind if I see what you’ve written?” He asked, his dark eyes soft.

 My muscles tensed as I met his obsidian eyes. They ran over my body and noticed how stiff I had become. My eyes lingered on his crisp white shirt, stretching over his shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows with a dark-coloured tie. Maybe it was my imagination when I thought his eyes had stayed far too long on my chest and my legs. I shuffled in my seat and tucked the strand of my hair behind my ear. 

Aiden’s eyes flickered to my face, and he closed them for a moment, as if he was taking his time. He finally said in his deep, soothing voice, “You don’t have to if you don’t want me to read. I will understand and respect your privacy.” 

I licked my lips, trusting my instinct. “I-it’s okay, I don’t mind. You can read it.”

I handed him the diary, frowning at the ruffled separate pages that I had shoved between them. He silently read the entry of my first day while I squirmed in my seat. I may or may not have drunk too much water, so I excused myself to the washroom.

When I came back, I could feel the change in the air. Aiden was sitting on the couch, but his posture was stiff. He barely addressed my presence when I sat down in my seat. I saw the diary was placed beside him and his jaw was clenched. 

“Is everything okay?” I asked, my voice small. 

He finally looked at me and the corner of his lips twitched. Leaning back on the couch, he said, “Yes, I suppose you could say that. I want to ask you something, Petal, and I want you to be honest about it.”

Frowning, I nodded. 

His eyes darkened, and he said in a stern voice, “Use your mouth.”

“I—um, yes, Dr. Aiden.”

I didn’t know why I felt the need to address him seriously. 

“What were you doing this morning?” 

My eyes widened, my heart pounding in my ears. I glanced at the diary and it struck me. Those ruffled pages. Shit, shit, shit. After journaling every day for a week, I wrote my fantasies regarding Aiden who was my brother’s best friend, on different torn pages. I always tucked them back in the diary, reminding myself to pull them out before I brought it to the session. But I was in such a hurry that I had completely forgotten about them. 

Did he read it? I hope he didn’t. I would rather eat raw broccoli than have him read all those pages.

Looking away from him, I lied and carelessly shrugged my shoulder, “I was meditating.”

I mentally winced at my lie. He had tried coaching me to meditate, but I could never do it. 

He is right. I am a terrible liar. 

Aiden raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?” 

I didn’t like the tone of his voice. He seemed serious, and I prayed that the ground would swallow me up. He waited for my answer, crossing his arms over his chest. I got distracted by the way his biceps bulged, the veins on his forearms getting prominent. 

He noticed me staring. I glanced down at my lap, twiddling my thumbs. “Y-yes, Doctor Aiden, I was meditating and I-I focused on my breath like you taught me—”

“Why are you lying to me, Ivy?” 

My head snapped at him, eyes wide. I shook my head, “I-I am not lying.”

Aiden tilted his head and my throat went dry when he said, “Then why did I hear your voice moaning my name when you orgasmed with your fingers inside your pussy?”