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.

He took a shaky breath and nodded slowly. "Okay," he whispered, the word barely a breath.


I leaned down, pressing a long, tender kiss to his forehead, sealing the unspoken promise between us. We curled into each other, arms entwined, holding so tightly it felt like we were trying to become one. In that embrace, the fear of the future quieted, replaced by the steady, unwavering rhythm of our hearts.


The morning sun began to filter through the curtains, painting the room in soft, golden hues. I woke up first, feeling the heavy, comforting weight of Zayn still tucked firmly against my side. I didn't move; I just stayed there, propped up on one elbow, staring at him. In sleep, the lines of worry and the traces of last night's tears had vanished, leaving him looking peaceful and ethereal in the early light.


Chapter 355 - Chapter 355: Facing What Was Left Unsaid