[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice Chapter 337: The Lesson of Us No Escape

~Evric’s POV~

"Daddy is here to hold his baby," I whispered, tightening my embrace.

Zayn kissed my arm in response, the small act enough to make my heart ache with love. Within minutes, his breathing deepened, and he was asleep again.

The rest of the evening was quiet. We had a simple dinner with Zayn’s mother, spent ti packing our things, and prepared ntally to leave the next morning.

The next morning, prompt and efficient, my driver arrived. He ca inside to swiftly pack our bags into the car while Zayn and I shared one last mont with his mother.

She clasped both our hands, her gaze steady and sincere. "Rember everything I’ve told you two," she said, first locking eyes with , then with Zayn, her glance carrying quiet aning.

She then turned to , lowering her voice slightly. "Evric, I saw the money you sent . That’s far too much, son."

I squeezed her hand reassuringly. "That’s not too much to do for you, Mom. Please, just consider it a small token of my thanks."

We both hugged her tightly. She walked us outside until we were both settled in the car. As the driver smoothly pulled away, starting our journey, I looked back and saw her standing in the doorway, waving. I reached for Zayn’s hand, ready to begin the next, necessary Chapter of our relationship.

The drive lasted several hours, and throughout the journey, Zayn stayed close, his hand entwined with mine, his head frequently resting on my shoulder, as if he feared I might vanish or run away at any mont.

I wasn’t running away; I brought him here with a purpose. He needed to face the truth about himself, to finally accept who he really is, and understand how his actions, repeating the sa mistakes, refusing to respect , have been hurting . Only if he could acknowledge his own truth and learn from it could we have any chance to move forward together.

I hope he learns.

Finally, the car turned onto the long driveway and ca to a stop in front of the familiar, secluded house overlooking the coast. Zayn and I walked side by side toward the entrance, my hand holding his firmly. With a quick press of my thumb on the smart lock, the door clicked open, and we stepped inside together.

My driver efficiently arranged our bags, checked the utilities, and perford all the necessary checks. Once he was done, he turned to . "I’m done here, Sir."

"Thank you," I said softly. "You may go now."

Zayn looked up at , sensing the finality. "Where is he going?"

I pulled him in tighter, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "Babe, it’s just the two of us here. I need a mont, just you and , completely alone."

He nodded, a mix of acceptance and slight nervousness in his eyes. "Okay, baby."

I glanced back at my driver by the door and whispered a few final instructions, reminders of the no-contact rule, and confirmation of the plan. He nodded, bowed respectfully, wished Zayn a pleasant stay, and quietly departed, closing the door softly behind him.

The heavy door clicked shut. We were utterly alone in the house, with the nearest person being the security detail stationed distantly at the main gate. The two weeks of isolation had officially begun.

I glanced at Zayn, who was taking in the familiar surroundings with a small, hopeful smile. "So... what do you feel like eating, babe?" I asked gently.

He walked up to , putting his arms around my waist. "No, let’s go to the bedroom first," he suggested, his voice low and suggestive.

I laughed softly, resisting his pull. "Not yet. We need fuel for that. Let’s eat first. I told him, This is about more than just sex, darling."

I guided him softly toward the kitchen. "Everything we’ll need for the next two weeks is already here. I made sure the house is fully stocked. If there’s anything you want and can’t find, just tell , I’ll have it delivered."

He smiled, accepting the delay. "Okay, baby."

A sly grin spread across his face. "Well, since it’s just the two of us here," he said, leaning closer, "we might as well start practicing how you’re going to be the perfect husband. That ans you’ll be doing most of the cooking."

I raised an eyebrow playfully. "My love, my cooking skills are not exactly perfect yet. You know I rely on Youtube for that."

He squeezed tighter. "I know, but I don’t care. I will be happy to eat anything you cook, as long as it’s made with love."

I lted a little at that simple declaration. I smiled, pulled his face to mine, and kissed him deeply. "Thank you, baby."

We shared a quick, simple al. After eating, we went upstairs, and as soon as we reached the bedroom, Zayn reached out for .

I knew imdiately he was in the mood and in desperate need of . This was exactly what I had expected, and it would make the first part of my ’lesson’ perfect.

He pulled closer and started kissing , and I kissed him back, letting the heat build. When Zayn was truly in the mood and needed sex, his breathing always changed it beca fast, shallow, and ragged. I listened to it now and felt the evidence of his arousal, his need pressing against , raw and horny.

He pushed backward, and I landed softly on the bed. As he climbed over , I placed my hands on his hips. "Babe, we should shower first."

"No, baby, let’s shower after," he pleaded, his voice husky and completely altered by desire.

He took my hand and guided it inside his trousers, silently urging to stroke him. I complied, and our passionate exchange quickly beca heated and deep. Zayn was already reaching his point of no return, he was past the point of casual flirtation; he needed sex.

I stroked his cock, my fingers finding the perfect rhythm. He moaned loudly, eyes closed, his face contorted in pleasure. "Yes, fuck, baby, right there!" he gasped, kissing my chest wildly.

In the past, when he was in this primal mood, I would have been ecstatic, knowing we would have an incredible, lengthy session. But now, all I could think about was the recent imbalance: I was tired of satisfying him to the fullest when he only gave the bare minimum when I needed him.

Just then, my phone, resting on the bedside table, chid loudly, shattering the mont.

Zayn flinched back a little, his eyes still closed. "Don’t pick it up!" he begged, his voice high with frustration.

I pulled my hand out of his trousers, ignoring his pleading. "Let check the phone," I said. "My friends said they might drop by today, I need to see who’s calling."

Zayn’s eyes snapped open, his focus instantly shifting from lust to confusion. "Your friends?"

"Yes," I confird, my face neutral...