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 finally spoke, my voice low and strained. "Why is she in your shirt?"


"She always likes that," he admitted. "But I warned her, for real, that if my partner saw her with that shirt on, it was going to cause bigger trouble."


"Then why," I pressed, "did you just come out of the shower?"


"Babe, I cooked at the restaurant today, I haven't done that in a while, so I needed a shower," he explained quickly. "And I was going to meet my friend, so I thought I should shower and change my clothes."


"I haven't spent up to forty-five minutes there, when you arrived" he insisted. "I got home and went straight to the shower."


I wanted to press for more questions, but before I could, he added the crucial detail. "Babe, I came back and saw her already wearing my shirt."


"How is she in your house when you aren't there?"


Chapter 197 - Chapter 197: The House Husband’s Rule