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 mean every word, baby," I smiled, sliding my hands up under his shirt to feel his warm skin. "I'm very real."


He shifted in my arms, a mischievous spark in his eyes, and asked, full of playful energy, "Should we just skip breakfast, then?"


I leaned in, letting my lips brush against his shoulder through the thin fabric of his shirt. My voice dipped into a low, teasing growl as I nuzzled him. "So… my baby's not too worn out from last night to keep up with me, huh?"


Zayn shifted gently in my arms, a warm, genuine smile lighting up his face. "I was so tired, Evric," he admitted, his gaze soft and searching mine. "But waking up and knowing my fiancé loves me so much that he can't even breathe if I'm not there… it makes every bit of that exhaustion disappear."


"Is that right?" I murmured, letting my hands glide down to rest possessively on his hips. "So… does that mean my baby's ready for a few more rounds today?"


Chapter 351 - Chapter 351: Breakfast, Games, and Promises