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.

"Yes," I replied instantly, my eyes sparkling. "Completely crazy for you."


Zayn laughed, pushing lightly against my chest. "Are you really going to have sex with me out here on the balcony?"


I tightened my grip on his waist, pulling his hips close against mine. "Yes," I murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Not every time needs to be in the bedroom. We can be a little crazy sometimes. Think of the adrenaline, baby. The thrill of it being outdoors."


I leaned my chin on his shoulder, listing the possibilities with a low, seductive voice. "We could have a quickie right here, beneath the stars. Or maybe the kitchen island when the maid is out. Or even better, against the wall in the wine cellar where no one would ever think to look."


I kissed his neck, letting my voice drop to a growl. "Being my boyfriend means embracing the spontaneity and love. Don't you want to see how quickly I can make you forget we're outside?"


Chapter 212 - Chapter 212: Between Passion and Public Eyes