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.

Evric smiled and kissed my hair, clearly thrilled by the small admission of jealousy. The car ride ended quickly, and we arrived at my restaurant.


As Evric stepped inside, my staff, who were usually busy and professional, stopped dead in their tracks. Every eye in the dining room, from the kitchen staff peeking through the swinging door to the hostess, was glued to Evric.


I nudged him as we walked past the reception area and toward my small, back office. "I own this place, Evric. I sign the paychecks. But you're the one stealing all the shine."


Evric laughed softly, his hand resting on my waist as we slipped into the quiet sanctuary of the office. He leaned back against the door, closing it behind us. "I know I'm a well-known businessman," he said, his voice warm with amusement, "but I've never experienced anything like today. It felt different, because people didn't just recognize me, baby. They recognized us."


Chapter 250 - Chapter 250: The Handsome and the Chef