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.

With a final, lingering hug, he reluctantly moved to the driver's seat. We quickly threw our discarded clothes on, and then, with our fingers intertwined, we drove back toward the glowing city lights. 


The drive back to the hotel was silent, yet it was the loudest silence we'd ever shared. Every glance, every squeeze of my hand that rested on Evric's thigh, said, We are fiancés.


The moment we stepped into our lavish suite, the promise of food and a shower took priority over everything else. Evric had barely closed the door before the aroma of our late-night room service order hit us, perfect timing.


"Food first!" I declared, making a beeline for the silver tray, but Evric was faster, sweeping me up from behind.


"Wash first!" he corrected, his voice playful. "You smell like sweat and existential commitment."


"And you smell like sex and expensive cologne," I countered, giggling as he dragged me toward the bathroom.


Chapter 288 - Chapter 288: Honeymoon Dreams and Fatherly Duties