Page 30 of Safe Word

But the contrast scraped at something inside me. Cain was calm, professional. Unreachable. Unlike another man I had recently met – Ghost was hot steel, prying open the locked boxes I’d buried in the dark corners of my mind. I wasn’t sure if I was aroused or deeply disturbed to find myself inclined towards both.

Nevertheless, the day came to a close, and the pressure that had been swelling all day finally burst.

Cain wrapped up fast, his movements almost restless, as if staying still a second longer might’ve snapped something inside him. There were no lingering pleasantries. Just a curt nod, a clipped, ‘See you tomorrow,’ and a look that burned a second too long.

When I stepped out, the faint trace of his cologne chased me down the hallway like an exam problem left until the very end: the hardest one, the one that haunted you even after you’d walked away.

I hurried home, my heart already thrumming with anticipation as I stepped into the shower. The warm water rushed over my skin, washing away the day’s tension but doing little to calm the restless energy pooling in my chest.

Tonight, I would see Ghost. Just the mere thought sent a shiver down my spine, my body already responding in ways I couldn’t control.

After drying off and slipping into my costume, I reached for my phone, noticing a notification from the Obsidian app.

My heart skipped a beat.

A change request from Ghost. Anxiety bloomed in my chest as I opened it, terrified that he might’ve cancelled. My mind raced, replaying our last session.

Had I been too needy? Too vulnerable?

I winced at the memory. I was needy – desperate for him. For his voice, his touch – though we hadn’t been allowed that yet. The anonymity, the rules… it all made it easier to let myself unravel in ways I never had before.

But as I read the notification, the air grew sparse, the heat in my chest climbing to a fever pitch. He hadn’t cancelled.

He had upgraded.

From Starter package to Gold.

Staring at the screen, my pulse roared in my ears. Gold. My heart leapt into my throat, and heat licked up my spine as my gaze skimmed over the words again, half-convinced I’d imagined them.

I scrambled through the app’s rules, needing to see it in black and white – proof that I wasn’t imagining it.

And there it was.

The Gold package – where touching was allowed.

Touching.

My mind spun, images flashing unbidden – his broad chest, the flex of his tattooed forearms, the sheer size of his hands as they strapped me into that chair. And now, I could touch him.

My body tingled all over, anticipation curling in my stomach like a tightly wound spring.

I hesitated for only a moment before checking the agreement box. My hands trembled as I hit ‘Submit’, my palms already damp despite the chill in my flat.

Tonight… I’d be able to feel him.

I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to steady myself, but the tension was already thrumming in my veins.

This wasn’t just a session any more. This was something else entirely.

The door clicked softly shut behind me as I stepped into the lounge, my heart fluttering in my chest. I hadn’t felt this nervous since I’d fled the US.

The air felt heavier tonight, laden with shadows that pooled in every corner. The room was darker than I’d remembered, the only light coming from the overhead fixture that cast a faint glow over the black leather chair at the centre. The low hum of music throbbed faintly in the background, a rhythm that echoed the pounding of my pulse.

He was already there, standing near the bed, adjusting something on the canopy. The skeletal mask gleamed faintly in the light, his black eyes turning suddenly to fix on me. But my focus was drawn to the rippling muscles of his naked back.

The way they shifted with each precise movement was hypnotic, a display of power that left me almost rooted in place. Every flex of muscle, every motion struck with a sweet and devastating purpose.

I forgot why I was here. All I could do was stare, mesmerised by the strength carved into every inch of him.