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.

"Good," I smiled, easing us up from the floor. "But we're not starting our day on the carpet."


We moved to the bed. The tension from the night before was completely gone, replaced by a delicious, lazy intimacy. Zayn immediately settled in, his face lighting up.


We were in that soft, silly phase of the morning. Zayn was being particularly clingy, his playful shyness charming me entirely. I pulled out my phone, suddenly wanting to capture the moment.


"Call me, Daddy," I whispered, holding the phone up.


I took a quick picture of us snuggled together, followed by a short video of Zayn trying to hide his face in my chest.


"Be careful not to post any of those pictures," Zayn said.


"Never," I promised. I kissed his cheek, then spent the next few minutes taking different cute pictures, one of him squinting shyly into the pillow, another of his hand linked with mine.


Chapter 222 - Chapter 222: The Moment Before Everything Changed