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.

The message from Meera—I'm not feeling fine—felt like a desperate pull on the chain she kept around my neck. Despite Nicki's sharp assessment about her being a "drama queen," the raw guilt still won. I muttered a quick goodbye to Nantam, jumped in the car, and sped home. The DNA test was the priority, but I couldn't ignore her if she was genuinely ill and alone in my house.


I burst through the front door. The living room was empty, the air heavy with an artificial quiet. I found her immediately in my bedroom, curled tightly on the bed, looking small and fragile under the comforter.


"Meera! Are you okay?" I rushed toward her, my plan to be distant completely dissolving.


She threw the covers back and immediately rushed up to hug me, clinging tightly to my waist. "Zayn, you came back," she whimpered into my shirt. "I feel so terrible."


Chapter 274 - Chapter 274: Heartstrings and Hard Choices