[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice Chapter 338: Lessons in Desire and Patience

~Evric’s POV~

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

"Yes," I confird, my face neutral.

"Your friends? What friends? When did you start having friends who drop in unannounced?" he demanded, his voice still ragged with unspent passion.

"I always have friends," I confird calmly. I started to sit up, but Zayn instantly drew back down.

"No, babe—not now," he protested, desperation roughening his voice. "You’re not really going to leave like this just to answer your phone, are you?"

"Baby, please," I said softly, trying to calm him. "Let just check who’s calling. It might not be them."

Reluctantly, he loosened his hold. "Okay."

I rose from the bed and took a few steps to the bedside table, reaching for my phone. Just as I suspected, it was one of them calling. I answered it, deliberately turning my back to Zayn as I listened.

"Evric, we’re at your gate now," my friend’s voice ca through the speaker. "Security is asking for your confirmation."

"Hold on," I told him, then quickly switched to the other line and called the guardhouse, instructing security to let my friends through.

I hung up and turned back to Zayn. He was still lying on the bed, still hard, his clothes rumpled and his eyes blazing with desire and mounting anger.

"I need to go downstairs and attend to them," I said, my voice level.

Zayn shot upright and crossed the room in two quick strides, his hands pressing against my chest as he pleaded. "No, babe—not now. I need you. Please," he begged. "Just give a few minutes. To cum, and then you can go to your friends. Please, Evric."

"No," I said firmly, placing my hands on his shoulders. "Babe, please let see my friends first. Once they leave, I’ll co back to you. We have the whole night ahead of us, just try to understand."

We went back and forth for a painful, tense minute, but eventually, the determination in my eyes, combined with the logic of my promise, forced him to accept. He dropped his hands, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

I could see the profound pain in his eyes, even though he didn’t speak the hurt aloud. He was devastated that I had chosen my friends, and social etiquette, over his imdiate, agonizing physical need.

As I took a step toward the door, Zayn’s voice cut through the silence. It was totally changed, sharp and laced with cold anger.

"Bring water," he ordered.

I ignored the sharp edge in his voice and focused on my resolve. "Okay, baby. Thank you for understanding," I said calmly. "I’ll be back soon."

I left the room, pulling the door shut behind , leaving him alone with his frustration and the powerful, painful need I had deliberately fostered and then abandoned.

I went downstairs, unlocked the door, and greeted my friends. There were three of them—Jude, Miles, and Ben, all old friends from college. After the initial hugs and laughter, they settled into the living room, looking around in awe at the secluded house.

"This place isn’t bad at all, Evric," Jude said, whistling softly.

Miles smirked. "Not bad? This screams only one man lives here."

Ben chuckled and shook his head. "Evric Draeven," he drawled dramatically, "you’ve really outdone yourself."

I laughed, waving them off. "Don’t start teasing ," I said.

They exchanged grins, the room filling with easy laughter and familiar warmth.

Miles leaned back, looking around with clear admiration. "So... have you decided to relocate here? Because this place screams perfection."

I didn’t answer him. Instead, I smiled faintly and stood up. "Excuse for a mont," I said, gently cutting off the questions.

Before any of them could press further, I grabbed a bottle of water and a glass and headed straight upstairs.

Getting back to the bedroom, I could see how much my absence had affected Zayn. He was curled up on the bed, facing away from the door, his posture tense and defensive. He looked miserable, almost ready to cry.

When he heard enter, he didn’t move. I placed the water bottle on the nightstand near his head.

"Babe, here is your water," I said softly.

He didn’t turn around, his voice calm but distant. "Thank you. You can go ahead and join your friends."

"Are you not coming down to greet them?" I asked, nudging gently.

"You treat so badly, Evric," he finally turned his head just enough to glare at , his eyes full of hurt. "You know it’s not right to leave like this... in the middle of—"

I interrupted him before he could finish, refusing to let him redirect the bla. "Co on, Zayn, just co down and say hello to my friends."

He turned his body fully to look at , and those eyes, the frustration, the disappointnt, the raw, lingering sexual need, told everything. I almost gave in and tossed my plan out the window to attend to him, but I held firm. This has to be done.

I straightened up. "Fine, I’ll go et my friends then."

He stayed silent, turning away and curling up into a tight ball.

I went back downstairs, set the wine on the table, and joined my friends. We talked, laughed, and I drank a lot, deliberately letting the evening stretch on. They stayed for hours, making the most of our ti together.

Throughout the entire evening, Zayn never ca downstairs. I went up to him twice, once to ask what he wanted to eat, and another ti to bring a tray of food. Both tis, he either ignored or responded with curt, cold words. I set several dishes on his bedside table: salads, steak, and fresh fruit.

My friends kept asking about Zayn, and I offered excuses for his absence, saying he was either sleeping or tied up with private calls.

Only Jude knew the full story, I had briefly explained the situation to him. Since Jude’s partner had also been hesitant about their own sexuality when they first t, he understood the delicate balance and internal struggle involved.

In fact, Jude had encouraged to take this decisive step, hoping Zayn would finally grasp the importance of mutual respect and priority in our relationship.

Once my friends had finally left and the house returned to silence, I went upstairs. Zayn remained curled under the duvet, untouched and quiet. Glancing at the nightstand, I noticed he hadn’t touched any of the food.

I exhaled slowly, a quiet, bitter chuckle escaping . So this can affect you this deeply, I thought, watching him from the doorway, his pride wounded, because I had chosen to attend to my friends first. He had no outlet now, no chance to voice his frustration, only the silent sting of being left unattended when he needed most.

I hoped he rembered this feeling, the helpless, simring anger, the sharp ache of being ignored at a mont when all he wanted was . Maybe now, he’d understand what it felt like to be left wanting, to be made aware of how much it hurts when soone prioritizes others over you.

I stepped softly toward the bed, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Baby, wake up," I whispered, rousing him gently.

Zayn stirred, pulling his head slightly from the pillow. When he finally opened his eyes, my heart seized with a sharp, imdiate pang of guilt. His eyes were red, puffy, and clearly streaked with dried tears. He hadn’t just gone to sleep; he had cried himself into exhaustion.

A knot tightened in my stomach. No way, I thought, the sudden sight of his pain shattering my resolve. I can’t continue with this.

I panicked, scrambling onto the bed next to him. "Babe, why did you cry? What happened?"

He imdiately sat up and threw his arms around my neck, clinging to with a fierce desperation that was agonizing. The first raw, heartbreaking words he uttered were, "You don’t love anymore, right?"

I held him close, my arms tightening around him as words failed to form. Silence hung between us, heavy and tense.

Finally, I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, my voice low and earnest. "Zayn, let’s talk. Can we have a heart-to-heart conversation, right now?"

He nodded, still clinging to , the fear in his eyes palpable.

I drew a slow, steady breath and asked softly, "Do you like how I left you to attend to my friends?" My eyes searched his face, looking for his reaction.

He imdiately shook his head, unable to et my gaze. "No."

"How did you feel, baby?"

Zayn choked back a sob. "I felt awful, Evric.