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 final affirmation, we held hands tightly and walked together into the brightly lit, sterile corridors of the hospital.


We stopped at the reception desk. I spoke to the nurse, keeping my tone calm. "We are looking for Liam Smith. Can you tell us his room number?"


The nurse quickly checked the system. She gave us the floor and the room number. We moved quickly, following the signs.


The walk felt impossibly long, the hospital air thick with anxiety.


We finally reached the room number we were given. Just as we approached the door, it opened.


Meera was stepping out, looking pale and completely exhausted.


The moment she saw Zayn, her eyes widened with immediate relief. She ran toward him without a word.


"Zayn!" she cried, throwing her arms around him and clutching him tightly.


I instantly let go of Zayn's hand, giving them space.


Zayn hugged her back slightly, murmuring into her hair. "It's okay, Meera. It's okay."


Chapter 317 - Chapter 317: The Weight of a Father’s Fear