Page 105 of Game Over

It has been a year with Ryker, a year since everything changed, a year of learning who I truly am, and a year for each of us to learn who we aretogether.

I slide from bed, wrapping myself in Ryker’s discarded shirt from last night. It smells like him—sandalwood and his indefinable scent, the one that’s purely Ryker. My feet pad across warm wooden floors as I step onto the veranda.

I see a folded note on the bistro table, held down by a small black box. My pulse immediately quickens. I recognize that handwriting. I recognize what this means.

My fingers tremble slightly as I unfold the paper.

Good morning, Mischief. Ready for Level Twelve? The box contains your first clue. The safe word remains the same. Remember—follow every instruction exactly. No exceptions.

Your Ghost

A thrill races through me, pooling low in my belly. My nipples harden against the soft fabric of his shirt, and I bite my lip in anticipation.

The black box calls to me. Inside could be anything—a key, a toy, instructions for some delicious depravity that Ryker has crafted specifically for me. These games of his tap into something primal within us both. Each challenge pushes boundaries I never knew I had, each level revealing darker, hungrier parts of myself.

I glance around the sprawling property—the lush jungle framing our secluded hideaway, the empty stretch of private beach. No one for miles. No one to hear whatever happens next.

My fingers hover over the box’s edge before lifting the lid. A smile spreads across my face at what I find inside.

Inside the box lies a thin gold chain with a small key dangling. Beneath it, a folded piece of black paper with white writing is hidden. I slip the chain around my neck, the key cold against my skin, before unfolding the note.

Level Twelve: Primal

Your body is your only weapon. Your submission is your only shield.

Follow the red markers into the jungle path behind our villa. You’ll find a clearing with a singular ancient banyan tree. The one I showed you last week.

Rules:

1. Strip completely naked before entering the path.

2. Apply the oil in the wooden box with the first marker.

3. You have exactly 30 minutes from reading this note to reach the clearing.

4. The key around your neck opens something vital. Don’t lose it.

5. You will be hunted. If caught before reaching the tree, you give up all control for 24 hours.

6. If you reach the tree first, you may claim your chosen reward.

Remember who owns you, Mischief. Remember who you belong to.

Your Ghost is watching.

Heat floods my core. The jungle. The hunting ground where anything could happen. I check the time—eleven forty-seven a.m. The countdown has begun.

I drop Ryker’s shirt to the floor and stand naked on the veranda, scanning the edge of the jungle for the first red marker. There—a flash of crimson tied to a palm frond about fifty yards away.

Thirty minutes to reach the clearing without being caught.

I dash toward the first marker. The wooden box sits beneath it, just as Ryker promised. Inside, a small bottle of fragrant oil that I quickly uncap and apply to my skin. It smells of something wild—sandalwood, jasmine, and something musky I can’t identify. The oil glistens on my naked body, catching sunlight as I rub it across my breasts, stomach, and thighs.

Twenty-six minutes left.

The jungle path stretches before me, a ribbon of darkness cutting through vibrant green. Every hair on my body stands at attention as I step onto it, leaving civilization behind. The temperature drops instantly—a cool embrace compared to the beach’s heat.

My breathing quickens. I’m prey now. Somewhere in this lush wilderness, Ryker waits.

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