They say the body has memory.

I didn’t believe that until I started waking up soaked in sweat and c*m, my heart racing, my fingers trembling, my lips parted as if I’d been whispering his name in sleep.

But I never even knew his real name.

I remember his voice though, how it curled around me like smoke, soft and deep, commanding yet kind, dark and dangerous.

He never touched me. Never laid a hand on me. But I came so hard, I cried.

Now, every night, I crave it. That voice. That whisper that made my knees weak. That sin I never thought I’d want.

I thought I was straight. Now, I’m not even sure I’m sane.

And I think I’d ruin myself just to hear it again.

For 25 years, Zayn lived in a world of straight expectations, dating girls, chasing pleasure that always ended in silence and frustration. Sex was a routine, not release. Until one bored night, chasing a thrill, he said yes to something different.

A man in a club offered him more than money, he offered a secret, a night of satisfaction like he’d never known. But when Zayn entered that hotel room, he didn’t expect him, the rich, cold, dangerously alluring heir of a conservative empire, whose father publicly condemns everything he hides in the dark.

What started as a one-night experiment turned into a dangerous addiction. Without a single touch, Zayn was broken open, undone, and made to scream, cry, and beg, only through sound.

Now, even back home, Zayn trembles when he hears his voice in dreams, in memory, in madness. His sheets are always wet. His nights are restless. His body wants more.

And the worst part?

He's starting to want him, too.


18+ WARNING 
This story contains explicit male-male content, intense erotic scenes, and psychological seduction.
If you're not ready for a world where a voice can break you, proceed cautiously.

Read at your discretion.

I stood up, genuinely surprised. "Excuse me, Zayn," I said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder before walking away.


Before I could fully step toward the entrance, I heard my name shouted.


"Evric!" Nuala's voice rang out with excitement.


She practically launched herself at me, throwing her arms around my neck. I caught her in a warm hug, the kind that only came from people who truly knew you, flaws and all.


"I missed you so much," she whispered against my shoulder.


"I missed you more," I replied, holding her tighter.


She pulled back slightly, her hands still on my arms, eyes sparkling. "You didn't tell me you were coming with that," she whispered mischievously, Nuala, ever the gossip queen, tilted her head and asked with a sly smile, "Is that him?"


I chuckled, already bracing myself. "Nuala, you'll never change."


But I nodded, answering her silent question.


Chapter 30 - Chapter 30: Old Names, New Emotions