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.

"Evric," he gasped into my ear, using my name with a weight that told me he had reached his absolute limit. "I'm so horny. Please... please have sex with me. Please, Evric."


I turned around in his arms, intending to stay firm, to tell him we needed to talk more. But Zayn didn't give me the chance. He crashed his lips against mine, a desperate, hungry kiss that tasted of red wine and longing.


"Can you just please forgive me?" he murmured against my lips, his voice breaking. "Can you just look past all this? I've learned my lesson... I understand now. Please just have sex with me."


"Please don't say no," he begged, his eyes welling up. "This punishment is too much for me. I can't take it anymore."


I ran my hand through my hair, my resolve crumbling. I was a second away from saying yes, from carrying him upstairs and ending this. But Zayn didn't wait. He grabbed me again, harder this time, and kissed me with a ferocity that demanded a response.


Chapter 342 - Chapter 342: The Lesson That Hurt Us Both