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.

After I had tried countless times, calling, texting, and hoping, without a single reply from Evric, I gave up. I did nothing all day except sit in the room, stare blankly from the balcony, and drown myself in a few drinks. My mind kept circling the same questions: Why is he angry? What did I do wrong? Why won't he just tell me?


Just as I was lost in my thoughts, a knock came at the door. One of Evric's workers stood there with a large box in his hands.


"Sir, this is a package from Mr. Evric. He asked me to deliver it to you," he said politely.


I opened the door wider and let him drop it inside. The box was huge, and for a moment, I didn't want to touch it. Maybe he had sent it before all of this coldness started. Maybe it wasn't even meant for me. But curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself cutting it open.


Chapter 138 - Chapter 138: Between Laughter and Silence