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.

My honest reaction when I first found out Zayn had a child was pure, unadulterated fear. It was the first time I had truly felt stomach-dropping hardship in my life. Everything that had happened recently, the public confrontations, Meera's escalating demands, the ticking clock, had left my mind heavy, burdened by a vulnerability I rarely experienced.


I didn't mention it to anyone, not to Evans, not to Nuala or Chrisly, not even Karl, who is handling everything for me. I didn't react visibly, I didn't ask for advice, and I certainly didn't let Zayn see the depth of my anxiety. All I did was hope, desperately, that he would choose me.


The waiting was agonizing. I already have a sleep disorder, typically managing only a few hours of rest a night, but with this turmoil, I barely slept at all. The entire ordeal was so disruptive that I changed my rooms, seeking a new atmosphere, but it made no difference. The possibility of losing him consumed my mind.


Chapter 279 - Chapter 279: The Night Our Hearts Became One