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 leaned down, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss that spoke louder than words. Between the press of our mouths, I murmured against him, "Soon, baby."


"Okay, baby," he whispered back, his eyes searching mine with a newfound clarity. He stayed quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing the collar of my shirt before he spoke again. "Evric... what advice would you give me about my father? Do you think I should meet him, or should I just let it go?"


I looked at him, realizing this was the one shadow still lingering over his heart. I ran my thumb over his cheekbone, considering my words carefully. "I don't have any advice for you on this, Zayn," I said softly. "Because you're a father now, too. You have that instinct in you. You already have the answer in your mind; you just need to trust it."


Zayn took a deep breath, nodding slowly as if my words had finally unlocked the door. "I want to meet him. I want to face him after we travel back. Will you come with me?"


Chapter 352 - Chapter 352: A Night Out, A Heart Unveiled