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.

Then I heard a familiar voice behind me, calling my name.


Turning slowly, I found him standing there, his expression unreadable. I knew, without a doubt, that he had heard everything. My staff, sensing his presence, quietly returned to their tasks, preparing to close the restaurant for the night.


Without another word, I grabbed my wallet and phone, bid farewell to my workers, and followed him out.


Evric didn't speak. He didn't ask a single question, but I could feel it, the way he carried himself, the tightness in his jaw, he was holding something back. He wanted to talk, but he was keeping it under control.


Inside the car, we sat in the back while his driver took the front seat. The air felt heavier than usual. I leaned in and kissed him. He tapped the side of the door twice, and his driver, understanding the signal, stepped out to give us privacy.


Chapter 46 - Chapter 46: Words That Cut Deeper Than Silence