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.

"Your decision guides me. If you want him in police custody, I'll pick up the phone right now. If you want me to back off, I will. Tell me, what do you decide, my love? I will act according to your decision."


Zayn lifted his head slowly, his eyes red and distant. His grip tightened painfully on my hand, and for a moment, he simply stared at me.


"Jail?" His voice was a thin, ragged whisper. "Evric, if I put Nantam in a cell, I'll never be able to be myself again. There's no way I will just send him away and go back to my normal life as if I didn't destroy his." He shook his head sharply. "I can't do that."


I rubbed his back gently. The justice path was closed. But mercy was just as difficult. "If jail isn't an option, then what is, baby? Are you saying you're going to forgive him?"


Chapter 258 - Chapter 258: In Your Arms, I Find Peace