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.

Flustered, I turned and walked quickly toward the restroom, eager to escape the embarrassment and the sharp sting of jealousy.


I leaned against the cool tile wall of the restroom, breathing hard, replaying the scene, and hating my loss of control. I knew I was wrong to lash out at Evric's friend, regardless of the provocation.


The door burst open instantly, and Evric rushed in, his eyes wide and concerned. The moment I saw him, the last shreds of my composure dissolved, and I ran to him, throwing my arms around his neck in a desperate, clinging hug.


"I'm sorry!" I choked out, the panic making my voice tremble. "I'm so sorry, babe! I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry for shouting at your friend, for losing my temper, and for getting angry. I know I was wrong."


Evric's hands immediately cupped my face, forcing me to look at his gentle, reassuring eyes. "Hey, sweetheart, it's okay. You did nothing wrong. Not one single thing."


Chapter 252 - Chapter 252: Taken Without a Trace