[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice-Chapter 353: Claimed in Public, Owned in Private

Chapter 353: Chapter 353: Claimed in Public, Owned in Private

~Evric’s POV~

Still, my eyes drifted toward the counter.

A woman approached Zayn; she was undeniably beautiful. She had cascading dark hair, striking features, and a designer dress that hugged every curve, the kind of woman who was used to getting exactly what she wanted. She was leaning in close, clearly trying to strike up a conversation.

I watched, unbothered, as Zayn listened for a few seconds. Then, with a graceful, deliberate movement, he lifted his hand. He didn’t just show her the ring; he made sure the light caught it, marking his territory without saying a word. Then, he pointed directly at me across the room.

But he didn’t stop there. As the lady realized she had no chance, Zayn turned fully toward our table. He caught my eye, a playful, devoted spark in his gaze, and blew me two dramatic flying kisses.

I reached out and "caught" them in the air, pressing my hand to my heart with a grin that I knew made me look completely whipped. I didn’t care. I looked back at my friends, whose jaws were practically on the floor.

"See?" I said, my voice thick with pride. "I told you. He’s mine only. Nobody can take him away."

The table erupted again, but this time it was different. The teasing was still there, but there was a new layer of respect. Mike was shaking his head in disbelief, while Ben just laughed, raising his glass to me.

Jude, however, looked at me with a soft, almost envious smile. "Good thing I’m not single, because watching you two is enough to make a man lonely," he joked, before his tone turned sincere. "But seriously, Evric... it actually hurts a little seeing this. I never knew you had such a sweet soul hidden under all that ice. It’s good to see you this happy, man."

I looked back at the bar, watching Zayn grab his glass and head back toward us. "I didn’t know I had it either," I admitted quietly. "Until I met him."

I tried to play it cool, deliberately looking away until he stepped right up to me. He set his glass on the table, then slid his arms around my waist, invading my space in the way he knew drove me insane.

"Baby," he murmured with a mischievous grin, his lips close to my ear, "I should warn you, I’m apparently very popular tonight. Everyone over there keeps trying to get my attention."

I looked at him, my brow arched in a tease. "Really? Well, I’m certainly not one of them."

I raised a brow at him, a teasing smile tugging at my lips. "Oh? Really? Well, I’m definitely not part of that crowd."

Zayn laughed softly, his arms tightening around my waist as he pulled me closer. "You’re the leader of them," he shot back, his gaze sharpening as it locked onto mine. There was something intense and beautiful in his eyes. "You can’t even breathe without me," he challenged quietly. "Can you?"

I shot a quick glance at my friends, warmth creeping up my neck as I lowered my voice. "Zayn... they’re all still right here."

"Answer me," he persisted, his voice dropping an octave. "Can you breathe without me?"

I let out a quiet, defeated breath as I leaned into his arms. "No," I admitted. "I can’t, baby. You’re the air I breathe."

Zayn beamed, a deep blush creeping up his neck as he hid his face against my shoulder for a second, still clutching my waist like he never wanted to let go. I leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to his cheek. "You’re so cute when you’re like this."

He leaned away just enough to look at me, his earlier shyness completely gone. His eyes were bright, daring. He moved closer, warm breath at my ear. "After this drink," he whispered, "we’re heading home. I have something for you."

"Oh yeah? What’s that?" I asked, smiling.

"My dick," he said bluntly.

I choked on my own breath, my eyes widening in shock. "Zayn!"

"It’s getting thicker, Evric," he added, his voice devoid of any filter. "I can feel it."

I gripped his chin, searching his face. "You’re not drunk, are you? How many of those did you have?"

"The bartender made it strong... this is the third glass," he admitted with a lopsided grin.

I tapped his forehead lightly, half-exasperated and half-aroused. "I told you one glass, Zayn. Just one."

"Let’s just go home," he groaned, shifting restlessly beside me. "It won’t be nice if I get... damn hard right here in front of your friends."

That was all the incentive I needed. I slammed my glass down on the table and signaled for the waiter. "Bill, please. Now." I paid for everything, our drinks and the entire tab for my friends.

Then I stood, lacing my fingers with Zayn’s and pulling him gently to his feet.

I glanced at my friends, already grabbing my jacket. "Sorry, guys. We’re heading out."

"Whoa, leaving already?" Mile asked, his mouth hanging open. "You haven’t even looked at us for the last twenty minutes!"

"Sorry, guys. Duty calls," I said, not even looking back as I stood up.

"You don’t even live in this city, man, stay and—" Ben started, but I cut him off with a shake of my head.

I gave Jude’s shoulder a quick, wordless pat in farewell, then gently guided Zayn toward the exit. Zayn turned back with a warm smile, offering a cheerful, "See you next time," and lifted his hand in a casual wave as we walked away.

My friends laughed and waved back, their voices following us until the doors of the lounge closed behind us.

The moment we stepped into the cool night air and got inside the car, Zayn let out a frustrated huff. "It’s hot in here."

"I’ll turn on the AC, hold on," I said, reaching for the dash.

"No," he groaned, gripping my arm. "I mean I’m hot. I’m horny, Evric," he added, gesturing at his erection.

"Be patient until we get home," I warned, shifting the car into gear. "I told you that drink was a bad idea."

"It was a great idea," he countered.

The drive home was a test of my sheer will. Zayn’s hand never left me, it was either gripping my hand or sliding high up my thigh, his touch insistent and heavy. I did my best to focus on the road, but my heart was hammering against my ribs.

The second we stepped through the front door, the urgency exploded. I was trying to lock the deadbolt, but Zayn was already on me, his hands fumbling with my belt and shirt buttons.

"Easy, babe," I chuckled breathlessly, trying to steady him.

"No," he gasped, yanking my shirt off. "Just strip. Now."

In a blur of discarded fabric, we were both stripped bare in the entryway. The cool air of the house hit our skin, but the heat between us was blistering. Zayn backed up and sank onto the edge of the sofa, his legs spreading as he looked at me with a raw, needy hunger.

I didn’t say a word. I sank to my knees between his trembling thighs, looking up at him for a single, heavy heartbeat. His eyes were dark, hazed with a cocktail of alcohol and pure, unadulterated need.

Without hesitation, I leaned forward and took his cock into my mouth, intent on delivering exactly what those three glasses of liquid courage had promised him.

The sound that left his throat was a shattered, guttural moan that echoed off the high ceilings of the silent house.

I worked him with a slow, punishing rhythm, my tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock while my hands gripped his thighs, anchoring him to the sofa. Zayn’s fingers immediately found my hair, his grip tightening as he arched his back, his breath coming in short, jagged gasps.

"Fuck, Evric... right there... just like that," he choked out, his hips beginning to buck upward in a desperate search for friction.

I increased the pace, the heat of my mouth and the suction of my lips driving him toward the edge.

I could feel the tension coil in his muscles; his legs began to shake, and his fingers dug into my scalp, guiding my head with a frantic, rhythmic urgency. He was right on the precipice, his body vibrating with the sheer force of the build-up.

"I’m—I’m gonna cum—!"

With a final, desperate surge, Zayn hit his limit. He let out a long, broken cry as his body went rigid, his entire frame shaking with the force of a powerful, toe-curling orgasm.

He held my head firmly against him, pinning me there as he spilled into my mouth, wave after wave of hot release pulsing through him. I stayed right there, taking every drop, refusing to move until the last of the tremors had left his legs.

Slowly, his grip on my hair loosened. His hands fell away, sliding down to rest limp on my shoulders as he slumped back against the sofa cushions, his chest heaving as he tried to find his oxygen. I pulled back slowly, the taste of him still on my tongue, looking up at the beautiful, ruined mess I had made of him.

I went to lean back in, intent on continuing the night and making sure he was thoroughly spent, when the sudden, jarring vibration of my phone on the hardwood floor broke the silence.

I ignored it at first, my focus entirely on the man in front of me. But it buzzed again. And again.

Cursing under my breath, I reached for my discarded trousers and pulled the phone from the pocket. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the caller ID. I looked up at Zayn, who was still blinking away the haze of his climax.

"It’s your father..."