[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice-Chapter 327: Respect, Love, and the Line We Crossed

Chapter 327: Chapter 327: Respect, Love, and the Line We Crossed

~Evric’s POV~

Zayn glanced down at his own phone, read the text, and then typed his reply, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Z: Anything, right?

E: Yes. Anything you want.

Zayn put his phone down and turned back to his mother. "Everything is fine, Mom," he said simply. "Most especially, Evric is taking good care of me."

I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Zayn’s mother smiled at me warmly. "I know he is, darling. Thank you, Evric."

The conversation continued for a while longer. Finally, Zayn stood up from the table.

"Come on, Evric," he said, his voice completely casual. "Follow me. We should probably go unpack in the bedroom now."

I quickly stood up. "It was a wonderful meal, Mom. Thank you again."

"Of course, dear," she replied. "Enjoy your stay."

I followed Zayn out of the dining room and down the hall toward the bedroom. The moment the door was closed behind us, the sweetness vanished from his expression.

He turned, hands on his hips, wearing a look of cool expectation.

"Well, Mr. Draeven," he began, his voice dropping to a low, seductive challenge. "It seems I have a perfect fiancé who is willing to do anything for me."

"You promised ’anything,’ didn’t you?"

I walked toward him slowly, recognizing I was now entering the negotiation phase of his punishment. "I did. And I meant it."

"Good," he said, a slow, satisfying smile spreading across his face. "Because I have a long list. Starting with the rest of this evening, which you will spend making me forget every ounce of pain and fear you caused. And it won’t involve any of your aggressive point-proving."

"I’m all yours," I confirmed, reaching for him, ready to pay the price for my colossal mistake. "Tell me what you need, sweetheart. I’ll make it right."

Zayn stepped back, denying my touch, which was punishment enough. He tilted his head, calculating.

"First," he began, his voice taking on a teasing, yet absolute authority. "You are going to take my slides off, and you are going to give me a foot massage. A long, thorough one. My feet are killing me from that car ride."

I nodded instantly. "Done."

"Second," he continued, holding up two fingers. "You are going to order me something incredibly decadent, cookies, cake, whatever they have here, and you are going to feed it to me, bite by bite, while I watch something completely mindless on television."

"Consider it ordered," I agreed.

"Third, and this is the important one," he paused, stepping close enough that I could smell the familiar scent of his shower soap. "Until further notice, you are not allowed to initiate anything. You are not allowed to touch me unless I explicitly ask you to, and you are not allowed to even think about sex until I say so."

He pressed a single finger against my chest, right over my heart. "You are going to spend the evening being purely attentive and comforting. You are going to earn back my trust, Evric, by proving you can be gentle and patient."

"And if I’m very nice," he finished, a slow fire entering his eyes, "maybe, maybe, I’ll let you sleep next to me without a pillow barrier."

I caught his finger and kissed the tip. "Deal. Every single item on the list. Just tell me where to start."

He withdrew his hand, a final, serious look on his face. "One last term: You cannot get angry, no matter what I say, or what I request for the rest of the evening. You agreed to anything."

I took a deep breath, accepting the final constraint. "I agree."

Zayn led me to the bed, pulled down his socks, and promptly put his tired feet into my lap. He grabbed his phone and started scrolling social media, settling into luxurious relaxation.

I found the ointment and began the massage. I worked his arches, his heels, and every single toe, pouring all my regret and desire to please into the task. I focused purely on his comfort.

After about forty-five minutes, feeling completely relaxed and massaged, Zayn decided we should join his mother again.

We were settling onto the sofa in the living room around 7:00 PM, eating the mandatory decadent chocolate, when a loud, insistent knock came at the door.

Zayn went to open the door, and standing there was a woman radiating energy and warmth, his longtime friend, Zara, her face bright and expressive.

"Zayn!" she shrieked, instantly wrapping him in a fierce, jumping hug. "Oh my god, word travels fast! I heard from Mrs. Thompson next door that you were around!"

"Zara!" Zayn laughed, hugging her back with genuine delight. "I can’t believe it! You’re back?"

"I just came back three days ago to visit my mom!" she exclaimed. She pulled away long enough to warmly greet Zayn’s mom in the kitchen entrance, then she grabbed Zayn’s arm.

"Come on! We have so much to talk about! We need to catch up properly, now!" And just like that, before Zayn could introduce me or explain anything, Zara yanked him straight out the door.

"See you later, Mrs. Smith!" Zara called back, dragging a laughing Zayn into the twilight.

Everything happened so fast. I sat there, chocolate still in hand, alone in the living room with Zayn’s mom, who now sat quietly across from me. I had promised myself to stay calm, to be my best self. So, I waited.

The first hour passed. I scrolled my phone aimlessly, trying to maintain my composure. He’s just catching up with a friend. It’s fine.

The second hour passed. My annoyance started to boil.

It was 10:39 PM when Zayn finally walked back in. He was laughing, looking completely carefree and energized. His mother had already retreated to her room for the night.

It was just the two of us in the living room.

I stood slowly, keeping my tone calm despite the sting. "Zayn, do you have any respect for me at all? That’s the only thing I asked."

Zayn stopped laughing and rolled his eyes instantly. "Oh, here we go. I knew you’d be jealous. I didn’t even go that long, Evric."

His dismissive tone, the quick assumption that this was simply about jealousy, made my anger explode, shattering my promise.

"Not that long?" I retorted, my voice tight. "Three hours, you think this is just about jealousy? I gave you my word that I would spend this evening making things right, and you dismissed me for a three-hour gossip session!"

"It was just Zara!" he yelled back, throwing his hands up. "You’re being overdramatic! You’re treating me like a prisoner!"

"Did you just say ’prisoners’?" I said through clenched teeth. "I wasn’t controlling you, Zayn, I was trying to tell you that you left me here alone for three hours. You walked off with Zara and didn’t even look back. That’s not respect."

"And you showed me none on the dining table this morning, Evric! This is what happens when you treat me like a toy!"

The volume of our voices had risen dangerously. Just as I was about to speak, the door to the hallway opened.

Zayn’s mother stood there, her face etched with concern.

"Boys!" she said, her voice strained. "Please!"

She looked directly at me and said softly, "Evric, sweetheart, go inside for now. I want to speak to Zayn privately."

The instruction was clear and non-negotiable. I immediately swallowed my rage. I wouldn’t disrespect her.

I gave Zayn one final, furious look, wheeled around, and walked straight into the bedroom, slamming the door shut. I left him to face his mother alone.

~Zayn’s POV~

After Evric slammed the door with one last furious glare, my mother took my hand. She didn’t scold me, instead, she gently guided me back to the sofa and seated me in the quiet living room.

Then she began. Her voice was calm, but serious. "I’m going to go straight to the point, Zayn."

"First of all," she said, looking straight at me, "it’s a good thing I witnessed everything tonight. Now I truly understand what Evric was trying to tell me."

I frowned, confused. "What do you mean, Mom? I don’t understand."

She exhaled softly, worry softening her features. "Evric didn’t want me to tell you, yet I cannot stay quiet. You need to realize how deeply you’re hurting him."

I could only stare, the weight of her words pressing down on me.

My mother leaned closer, her voice gentle but serious. "Two days before Evric proposed to you, he traveled down here to see me. The moment he arrived, he didn’t speak a word. He just sat there, looking completely shattered and troubled."

I looked at him with concern and asked, "Son, what happened?"