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.

With that, I gathered my laptop and phone, turned, and walked upstairs, leaving him standing there in the middle of the empty living room, frozen in absolute disbelief.


I was settled at the desk in our bedroom, the laptop open, when the door flew inward, hitting the wall with a hollow thud. Zayn stepped inside, his face flushed and his movements sharp. I didn't need to look up to feel the heat of his anger.


"Evric! What just happened downstairs, right now?" he demanded, his voice ringing with shock.


I kept my attention fixed on the screen. 


"What part did you not understand so I could explain it to you?"


"Did you just stop me from going to work?"


I ignored him, tapping deliberately on the keyboard.


"Evric, did you just stop me from going to work and tell your workers to lock the door?" he repeated, his voice escalating.


Still, silence from me. I leaned into the cold calculation of the keyboard.


Then, he snapped. "EVRIC! It's you I'm talking to!"


Chapter 198 - Chapter 198: Who Are You to Stop Me