Page 14 of Safe Word

Ghost’s mask flashed before my eyes, the memory of his voice still ringing in my ears.

I took a sip of water, its coolness coursing through me as my determination to keep seeing him grew.

Two days until then.

But for now, life needed my full attention.

‘Chapter fifteen,’ I muttered, glaring at the blinking cursor like it might miraculously deliver the words I needed.

This was meant to be the pivotal moment – the culmination where my characters finally unravelled under the weight of their desires. But the page stayed blank, and the scene in my head felt as lifeless as the screen in front of me.

My stories weren’t just about lust, they were about surrender, control, and the razor-thin line between them. But that line had blurred at some point – dulled.

Scarlett had somewhat sharpened it again. Every moment with her pulled me back to that raw, visceral energy I used to pour into my stories. She was under my skin. A goddamn firestorm lit in my chest.

Christ, she had been such a good girl last night – obedient, aching, open to possibilities. And yet, I knew I shouldn’t let myself hope that she would go the full circle with me. Hope was a vicious little thing, and I’d been mauled by it before.

Snapping back to reality, I frowned at the empty page again, a bitterness coagulating at the base of my throat.

I was supposed to be the kind of dark romance writer readers turned to for twisted, gut-wrenching passion and psychological kinks. But lately, my words felt hollow, my characters lifeless.

Vinnie had been blunt about it, as he always was.

‘You’re losing your edge, Cain,’ he had said over drinks a few nights ago. ‘You write like a guy who hasn’t been laid in years. Your stories are starting to feel… safe.’

Safe. I almost laughed aloud at the thought. Nothing about me had ever been safe. My past, my desires, my habits – they all existed in some murky grey zone where the rules didn’t apply. And yet, here I was, struggling to inject that chaos, that rawness into my work. Vinnie had thought I lacked love in my life. I thought I lacked everything.

The truth was… I’d been numb for so long I’d forgotten what it felt like to feel anything at all. Work, life, desire… it had all faded into muted tones.

And then Scarlett came into my world, a jolt of colour and chaos I hadn’t realised I needed. From the moment she stepped into that room, she’d shifted something in me. The way her crimson lips parted when I spoke, the soft tremble of her body beneath the blade – it wasn’t just her surrender that captivated me. It was her strength, the way she emerged from something dark and met me at the edge of fear and need, daring me to take her further while breaking out of her shell.

I tipped my weight into the backrest, her memory surging to the forefront. Her scent, her taste, the way she responded – it had haunted every quiet moment since, pulling me back under her spell.

My fists clenched, pressure coiling low in my stomach as my mind spiralled back to her over and over.

My mouse moved almost on its own, the glow of the Obsidian logo spilling over my screen like an illicit promise. A portal to the world where everything I craved was possible – and the one place where I had found her.

My username, Ghost_666, flashed at the top of the screen as I logged in. The site’s calendar buzzed with requests and appointments, but I ignored them all, zoning in on the only name that mattered: Scarlett.

My heart beat quickly as I booked our next session, the anticipation already building like a slow burn. She wasn’t just a muse. She was a threat. I had checked her calendar three times already this morning. If I hadn’t booked our next session now, I might’ve stalked Obsidian just for a glimpse to see if she was seeing anyone else.

What the fuck was happening to me?

She even dared to ask me if she had done something wrong. The question had nearly undone me even as her voice wavered, her eyes searching mine for some kind of reassurance. She had no idea what she was doing to me – how close I had come to losing every ounce of self-control I’d ever had. Seeing her come alive beneath my hands – it was invigorating. She met every touch, every command with a surrender so complete it left me breathless. But it wasn’t just about control and surrender any more. It was about her – what she unlocked in me.

No… Not unlocked. She thawed the emotional frost that had been building inside me for so long.

I had to stop. There had been no other option. If I’d kept going, I’d have crossed every line, broken every rule.

She’d signed the contract, like I did. Two pages of limits. One red word that could end everything. Obsidian wasn’t play – it was a blood-stamped ritual.

But when she looked at me with those deep brown eyes like she wanted to take my hand and drag me into the darkness with her, it took everything I had to send her away.

And when she said she would never tell?

‘Fuck,’ I said aloud.

I almost touched her then. Almost.