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 sighed, caught between nerves and anticipation. Just then, we pulled up at the bar.


Dean and I walked inside and chose a corner table, a spot that was private enough to feel secure for Evric. The place wasn't new to me, Dean and I had been here plenty of nights before, usually to drink, laugh, and pick up girls.


We ordered, and while we waited for the drinks to arrive, my phone buzzed. A message from Evric.


I'll be late. Need to finish some things at the office.


I replied quickly: Okay. We're at table 12, by the corner. I'll be waiting.


Moments later, a pair of women approached our table. They didn't look like the type you'd find working the crowd. No, these two were different, elegant, polished, high standards written all over them. The kind that smelled of money and didn't need to hustle.


Chapter 68 - Chapter 68: Jealousy in His Eyes