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 woke up slowly, the first light of dawn filtering in, but I didn't open my eyes. The heavy, warm weight of Evric was still draped across me, his leg tangled with mine. The deep sleep had worn off, and the physical awareness returned instantly. I felt the unmistakable pressure of his morning erection—a hard, hopeful sign of life and desire.


I sensed him stirring and quickly tensed, pretending to sleep. I wanted to watch how he would behave now that he was physically at ease again.


Evric stirred, and a moment later, I felt his lips brush my ear. "Good morning, baby," he whispered, his voice low and drowsy.


He didn't move much, content just to feel me there. He started tracing patterns in my hair with his fingers, a gentle, soothing rhythm. Then his hand moved to my face, his thumb running lightly along my jaw, checking if I was awake without daring to interrupt my rest. His touch was so familiar, so loving, it almost made me flinch.


Chapter 239 - Chapter 239: When Desire Begs for Permission