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.

"I know I don't deserve your time, much less your forgiveness, but I needed you to know this: every single day I was gone, a part of me knew I had made the worst mistake of my life."


Tears pricked my eyes as I looked at the man who had once been an untouchable giant in my mind, now reduced to a vulnerable patient begging for a moment of grace. The most painful part was the suffocation of it all, I wanted to scream, I wanted to let out the decade of poison rotting inside me, but I couldn't. How do you rage at a man who is already broken? How do you punish someone who is already being hollowed out by sickness?


I stood there, my nails digging into my palms, watching him apologize. He pleaded for my mercy with every shaky breath, his eyes searching mine for a flicker of the boy he used to know. I gave him nothing. I stayed silent, my throat tight with a knot of unspoken fury and grief that I couldn't untangle.


Chapter 362 - Chapter 362: Holding On, Letting Go