[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice Chapter 351: Breakfast, Games, and Promises

~Evric’s POV~

"I an every word, baby," I smiled, sliding my hands up under his shirt to feel his warm skin. "I’m very real."

He shifted in my arms, a mischievous spark in his eyes, and asked, full of playful energy, "Should we just skip breakfast, then?"

I leaned in, letting my lips brush against his shoulder through the thin fabric of his shirt. My voice dipped into a low, teasing growl as I nuzzled him. "So... my baby’s not too worn out from last night to keep up with , huh?"

Zayn shifted gently in my arms, a warm, genuine smile lighting up his face. "I was so tired, Evric," he admitted, his gaze soft and searching mine. "But waking up and knowing my fiancé loves so much that he can’t even breathe if I’m not there... it makes every bit of that exhaustion disappear."

"Is that right?" I murmured, letting my hands glide down to rest possessively on his hips. "So... does that an my baby’s ready for a few more rounds today?"

Zayn didn’t hesitate. He pressed back against the counter, his eyes flashing with a daring spark. "Honestly... I wouldn’t mind starting right here in the kitchen."

I let out a soft, amused laugh, my eyes widening slightly. "Oh... are you really getting this naughty now, Zayn?"

"I’m not just naughty, babe," he whispered, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw. "I want to show you that I’m a fast learner. Practice makes perfect, right? I want to be perfect for you."

I drew him closer, pressing my forehead to his, the tight weight in my chest finally easing. "I’m really glad you feel that way," I admitted softly. "I’ll be honest, I was scared you’d wake up and think last night was too much for you."

Zayn’s expression turned serious for a mont, his eyes filled with a raw, beautiful sincerity. "Babe, I’m actually so glad you brought it up, he admitted quietly. "I’ve wanted to ask you to teach , to guide like that, for a long ti. I was just too shy to say it out loud. As a man, it isn’t always easy to admit you want to be led... or to surrender that way. I think you understand that."

He tightened his grip on my hands, his smile soft and bright with real happiness. "I’m so glad you took the lead," he said quietly. "Your ’lessons’ made everything feel so much easier. I felt safe with you, Evric. For the first ti, the pleasure was so overwhelming it drowned out every trace of pain. It was just... effortless. It felt right. I’ve never felt this deeply connected to you before."

Hearing him say those words felt like the deepest kind of validation. Knowing he felt safe with , secure, grounded, and growing under my guidance, stirred a pride I hadn’t known I was capable of. I looked at him then, at this beautiful, resolute man who trusted enough to open himself completely, and a fierce, protective warmth flooded my chest. He was safe with , and in that mont, I knew I would do anything to keep it that way.

"That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Zayn," I murmured, drawing him into a deep, unhurried kiss—steady, certain, and full of promise. "I want to be the man you can always rely on, every single ti."

I reluctantly pulled back, glancing at the ingredients waiting on the counter. "But as much as I want to take you right here on the marble, we need to eat. We’ll finish this breakfast, and then," I gave his hip a firm, suggestive squeeze, "we’re going to spend the rest of the day putting those lessons into practice."

Zayn bead, turning back to the stove with a happy hum. "Deal. Get the plates ready, Daddy. I’m almost done."

I moved through the kitchen with him, acting as his shadow. It was as if we were perfectly in sync; before he could even reach for the salt or ask for a serving platter, I was already placing it in his hand. We worked in a comfortable, dostic silence until the food was plated. We sat together, enjoying the al he’d prepared with so much heart, the morning air finally feeling still and right.

After we finished, I migrated to the living room, sinking into the couch and turning on the TV to so mindless show. Zayn insisted on handling the dishes, and a few minutes later, he joined . Instead of sitting beside , he stretched out, resting his head in my lap and making himself at ho.

The house was quiet, the only sound being the low hum of the television. I ran my fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness of it, when he suddenly broke the silence.

"Daddy?" he murmured.

"Yes, baby?" I answered, my eyes still on the screen.

"Do you... Do you still want to marry ?" He spoke slowly, the words heavy with a sudden, shy gravity.

I imdiately shifted my focus, giving him my full, undivided attention. I looked down into his eyes, my hand pausing in his hair. "Why would you even ask that? Of course I do."

Zayn bit his lip, glancing away for a mont. "We visited my mother’s side... but you never asked her about the traditional rites or what we needed to do before the wedding. And you haven’t ntioned it again since."

I smiled, my heart lting at the sight of his worry. I resud playing with his curls, trying to soothe him. "Why are you so worried about that right now, Zayn?"

He pouted slightly, his eyes searching mine. "Because you can’t just be sleeping with for free like I’m just a boyfriend. You put a ring on my finger, but there’s no wedding yet. I don’t want to just be a fiancé forever."

I couldn’t help it; a laugh bubbled up in my chest. "You know you’re acting like a total bridezilla right now, right?"

"Call it whatever you want," he said with a soft exhale, staying close. "I’m asking because I can’t wait to officially call you my husband. I don’t want ’boyfriend’ or ’fiancé’ anymore. I want it to be real."

My smile widened. I leaned down and started to tickle his sides playfully. "So, you love that much, huh? All that pretending to be shy, and here you are begging to be my husband."

Zayn let out a flurry of giggles, squirming in my lap as he tried to catch my hands. "Yes! Yes, I love you that much! Stop it, Evric!"

"How much?" I teased, my fingers digging playfully into his ribs. "Tell exactly how much you love ."

"A lot! More than anything!" he squealed, his face flushed and his eyes bright with joy.

I slowed my hands down, deciding to push his buttons just a little more. I leaned back with a mock-serious expression. "Well, I don’t know, baby... I’m not sure when we’re actually getting married. Maybe in a few years?"

Zayn’s laughter stopped instantly, replaced by a huff of fake indignation. He sat up, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine. If that’s the case, I’m selling the rings tomorrow. There is no way I’m letting you turn into the Lord of the Rings. I’m not wearing this jewelry just for show!"

I barked out a laugh and went right back for his sides, tickling him until he collapsed back onto the cushions. "You dare not do that! Those rings stay exactly where they are."

He stuck his tongue out at defiantly, even as he gasped for air. "Watch ! I’ll do it!"

"No, you won’t," I challenged, pinning his wrists gently beside his head.

Suddenly, the playfulness in his expression softened into sothing more vulnerable and raw. He stopped struggling and looked up at with wide, honest eyes. "Baby, stop... I’m serious. I want to be your husband. I don’t want to wait anymore. I’m... I’m desperate for it, okay?"

I felt the air leave my lungs for a second. The raw honesty in his voice hit harder than any of our gas. "Wow," I whispered, a slow, proud smile spreading across my face. "Zayn, I love hearing that. I love how much you want this."

"I do," he breathed, his fingers tangling in my hair.

The mont was too sweet, too perfect. I climbed between his legs, and the laughter died down into a soft, heated silence as I pinned his hands above his head. We stared at each other for a heartbeat, the man who wanted to be my husband and the man who was already his in every way that mattered.

I leaned down, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss that spoke louder than words. Between the press of our mouths, I murmured against him, "Soon, baby."