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 was smiling, feeling a mix of nervousness and exhilaration from the phone call, when my phone buzzed again. It was a message from Zayn in our friends' group chat.


Zayn: Hey everyone! I'm happy to announce that I'm finally having the grand opening for my second restaurant next weekend!


I quickly typed a reply. Nantam: Congratulations, friend! That's incredible news!


Dean: I almost thought you were dropping your wedding invitation! Anyway, congratulations, Zayn.


In the evening, I drove to Evans's house. Getting there, I saw that Evans had truly prepared, like he was welcoming the president of the country. The house was immaculate, the lighting soft, and there was a subtle, masculine scent in the air. I couldn't help but smile at the effort he'd made.


He brought out a bottle of fine wine, and we settled onto his plush sofa. As we started drinking, Evans leaned forward, his gaze warm and focused.


Chapter 301 - Chapter 301: Inside Evans’s Forbidden Room