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.

Zayn woke up sore this morning, but he still had to get ready for work. Tomorrow is my cousin's wedding, and since he's handling the food, he doesn't have the luxury of resting. My driver and I dropped him off at the restaurant, and I just got back now, my mind heavy from everything that happened last night.


Last night… I was angry. Angry enough to reach for old habits. I lit a cigarette, and before I knew it, I almost went back to drugs. I had it in my hand, ready, when Nuala caught me. She snatched it away and looked me dead in the eye.


"What if Zayn comes down and sees you like this?" she said. "That'll be the end. You'll ruin everything you've been building with him."


She was right. If Zayn had caught me in that moment, he might have walked away for good. For someone like Zayn, calm, disciplined, reserved, he wouldn't tolerate my weakness. I know it. And the truth is, Nuala saved me last night.


Not long after she returned to her room, Zayn came downstairs...


Chapter 71 - Chapter 71: Between Fear and Love