[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice-Chapter 376: The Strength to Hold On

~Nantam’s POV~

"Harder," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Evans, please."

I was lost in the sensation, the way he filled me, the way he looked at me like I was his entire world. It was raw, erotic, and overwhelming, a reclamation of everything we had almost lost.

But I could feel him holding back. His thrusts were shallow, his grip hesitant, as if he were terrified I might shatter if he exerted too much force. I leaned down, my sweat dripping onto his chest, and whispered against his ear, "Be yourself, Evans. Stop being so careful. I won’t complain, it’s what I want. I want to satisfy you."

Hearing that, Evans let out a low, shaky breath. He gripped my waist and pulled himself out of me, the sudden absence of his warmth making me gasp. He stood up from the bed, moving to the edge where he stood over me, his silhouette tall and powerful in the dim light of the room.

He gestured for me to turn over.

"Turn around, Nan," he commanded, his voice dropping an octave, thick with a new, focused intensity. "Get on your hands and knees."

I did as he asked, I moved onto my hands and knees, my heart thundering against my ribs, as I moved to center myself on the mattress. He began to check the positioning of my legs, his touch lingering as he tried to ask if I was still comfortable, but I didn’t want the gentleness, I wanted the fire, I cut him off.

"Just go inside, Evans," I groaned, looking back at him over my shoulder with pleading eyes. "Stop treating me like I’m made of glass. I’m not going to break."

Evans didn’t hesitate any longer. He reached for the lubricant, coating his length with a steady hand before stroking himself for a few seconds to ensure he was ready. He gripped my hips with a firm, possessive hold and guided himself back to my entrance. When he slowly slid inside from behind, the sheer, stretching fullness of him made me let out a deep, guttural groan that seemed to vibrate through my entire frame.

He didn’t wait. He reached forward, wrapping one hand firmly into my hair to pull my head back, while his other hand clamped onto my hip to anchor me. Then, the carefulness vanished, and he started slamming into me with a rhythmic, heavy force.

The sound was primal, the wet, rhythmic clap of his body hitting mine echoed through the room. I reached back blindly, my fingers digging into the muscle of his butt, pulling him closer to force him even deeper. I wanted to feel every bit of his strength.

"Yes... fuck, yes!" I screamed into the pillow as he hit that specific, sensitive spot over and over. "Harder, Evans! Don’t stop... go deeper!"

"Harder, Evans! Take me harder! Don’t you dare stop!"

My body was shaking under the force of his rhythm, my skin flushed and slick with sweat. Every time he drove forward, I felt the powerful stretch of him, the sheer strength in his legs as he pinned me in place. The headboard rattled against the wall in time with my frantic moans. I was begging him now, lost to the sensation, pleading for him to take me faster, to never let the feeling end.

"I’ve got you, Nan," he rasped, his voice a dark, low growl. "I’m right here."

The coil inside me tightened to a breaking point. I reached down, my hand moving in a blurred, frantic motion against cock, matching the speed of his thrusts.

"I’m close," I choked out, my vision spotting with white light. "Evans, I’m so close!"

"Me too," he hissed, his grip on my hair tightening as his pace became a desperate, heavy blur. "Don’t stop... stay with me, baby!"

I let out a long, high-pitched cry as I finally went over the edge, my release hitting the sheets in hot, pulsing bursts. At that exact moment, Evans let out a low, guttural roar. He lunged forward one last time, burying himself as deep as possible and pinning me flat against the bed. I felt the hot, heavy throb of him as he emptied himself inside me, his body shuddering with the force of his climax until every drop was spent.

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the sound of our gasping, desperate lungs. Evans didn’t pull out; he collapsed forward, his heavy, warm body pressing mine into the mattress. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he said softly, emotion thick in his voice as he kissed my shoulder. "I won’t take this for granted again."

He shifted slightly, his weight a grounding presence on top of me, tightening his hold as if afraid I might vanish. "I love you so much, Nan," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I’m going to prove it to you every single day. I’ll show you that all you need is me, because you are truly all I need."

I listened to his confession, my heart still racing from the raw intensity of our reunion. I didn’t say anything, the words were still hard to find, and my throat felt tight with everything we’d just been through, but I reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling it tighter across my chest and anchoring him to me.

I couldn’t see his face, but I could feel his heartbeat through his chest as it pressed against my back. I tilted my head just enough to press a soft, quiet kiss against the skin of his forearm, letting the gesture speak for me. It was my way of telling him that despite the hurt, I was still here.

Evans let out a long, contented sigh at the touch, his weight a grounding, warm pressure as he continued to rest on top of me. We stayed like that for a long time, tangled together in the quiet dark, letting the rhythm of our breathing finally return to normal.

~Zayn’s POV~

A few days before the ceremony, the atmosphere in my house shifted. It became quieter, more emotional, as the reality of everything started to set in. When my mother finally arrived, her presence alone changed the entire mood.

I was moving through the living room with a restless, nervous energy when I noticed her leaning against the doorway. She was just watching me, a warm, knowing smile spreading across her face. Seeing me this happy, this alive with anticipation, seemed to be everything she had ever hoped for.

Later, during a quiet moment in the kitchen, she couldn’t resist poking a bit of fun at me. "Do you remember, Zayn?" she said with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "All those nights you’d call me, nearly in tears, convinced a man like Evric would eventually lose interest? You kept asking me over and over if you were making the right choice."

I felt my cheeks burn a deep crimson. "Mom, please! I was just... being cautious."

"You were being such a drama queen," she laughed softly, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "And every single time you called me looking for strength, I told you the same thing: with Evric, you chose right. No one is perfect, Zayn. You both just have to be willing to work on each other’s flaws as you grow together."

I smiled, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. "You’re right, Mom. It’s a good thing I have you. Without your voice in my ear, I’m not sure I’d be standing here right now. This moment might not have even come."

She leaned in, her eyes warm with pride. "It’s a good thing you believed in yourself, too. To make a union last, you have to be fully committed. You can’t just rely on hope; you have to choose each other every day."

We both shared a quiet, knowing smile. "Thank you, Mom," I said softly, grateful for the wisdom she always seemed to have ready just when I needed it most.

While I found comfort in her arrival...