Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 106

I grab the lube, flip the cap, and the sound alone has his lashes flicking up, like he’s bracing. My gaze stays locked between his thighs, the slick liquid coating my fingers, and fuck if I don’t get off on how that first brush over him makes his breath hitch, his whole body tightening around the anticipation.

“Relax,” I murmur, dragging it out on purpose, circling slow just to watch his reaction. “Or don’t. I kinda like you squirming.”

He shoots me that sharp look, the one that’s all challenge, like he’s daring me to push further.

“You’d get off watching me suffer, huh?” His voice is strained, but it’s cocky too.

“Not suffer,” I press just enough to make him bite down on his lip. “Beg. That’s different.”

His head tips back, a groan slipping free even as he manages to sneer, “Keep dreaming. I never beg.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” My tone drops, filth and promise in one, because I’m watching his body betray him, his hips twitching up, thighs trembling while I slip my finger down, finding him hot and tight. Waiting. I slide a little deeper, easing him open, circling once, slow, just to feel the twitch of his thighs under my hands.

His lips part, breath hissing out sharp, and my cock throbs so hard it aches. “Fuck, Xander…” I grit, pumping slow, working him open. “You’re tight enough to make me lose my goddamn mind.”

The way he’s clenching, the way his nails are curling into the sheets, it’s making it hard for me to think.

My fingers stroke just right, twisting, coaxing him open while his breath comes ragged. His eyes dart to mine, wide and fevered, that look that’s equal parts 'fuck you' and 'don’t stop'. And Christ, I won’t. Not until he’s wrecked, not until I’ve wrung every last sound out of him.

I slide another finger in, slick and deliberate, and the way his body seizes has me gritting my teeth, fighting not to just lose it right there. He’s tight, greedy, and every little twitch feels like he’s dragging me under. My eyes don’t leave the spot where I’m working him open, watching him stretch, watching him take me. It’s obscene, beautiful...addictive.

He curses, low and ragged, trying to mask the sound like he’s not coming apart. “Fucking hell, Jax…”

“That sounds a lot like begging to me,” I murmur, scissoring my fingers just to feel him shudder. “Want me to slow down?”

He glares at me, sweaty hair stuck to his temple, jaw clenched. “If you stop, I swear I’ll....” His words break on a moan when I curl my fingers just right, his whole body jerking.

“You’ll what?” I taunt, voice rough with hunger. “Gonna tell me to fuck off while you’re clenching around me like this? You don’t even know how bad you want it.”

“Arrogant bastard,” he spits, but the bite in his voice is ruined by the way his hips roll down onto my hand, chasing the pressure like he can’t stop himself.

I chuckle, low and sharp, adding a third finger. His back arches, a raw sound tearing out of him, and I feel it.....his body yielding, resisting, and then yielding again. “Yeah, that’s it. Take it. Knew you’d open up for me.”

His hand shoots out, grabs a fistful of my hair, yanking me closer so he can whimper right in my face. The way his eyes darken, the way his mouth trembles like he wants to say something snarky but can’t, that’s the crack I’ve been waiting for.

He lives for this. And so do I.

I’ve got him rocking against my hand without even realizing he’s doing it. Every time I curl just right, he jerks, a low moan ripped out of him before he can choke it back. His body is all tense lines, but it’s not resistance anymore...it’s hunger, it’s need clawing through him.

“Look at you,” I rasp, eyes locked on the way he moves against me. “Grinding down on my fingers like you don’t even care how fucking shameless it looks.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he bites, though it sounds more like a plea than a demand. His knuckles are white in the sheets, his chest heaving.

I push deeper until his head drops back against the mattress, throat working like he can’t swallow down the sound. “Bet you never let anyone see you like this. Bet you never gave yourself over this completely.”

He turns his head, glaring at me through half-lidded eyes, teeth bared. “You’re so damn full of yourself.”

“Maybe.” I curl hard and his hips jerk up so violently he gasps, his body giving him away completely. “But you’re the one dripping for it, not me.”

“Fuck you...”

“You’re trying.” I watch him squirm as I drag my fingers out slow. “And you’re about to succeed.”

He groans, frustrated, torn between pride and the way his body’s begging me. He pushes up into me again, desperate, and my cock throbs so hard it hurts. I can’t hold back much longer. He’s ready...and so fucking perfect. I pull my hand away, and the sound he makes is so raw it almost undoes me.

I reach for the condom, my fingers closing around the foil, but Xander’s hand shoots up and stops me. He takes it right out of my grip, doesn’t break eye contact as he sets it back down on the covers. My throat tightens, a sharp swallow dragging down.

“You sure?” My voice comes out lower than I expect, rough, the weight of the moment pressing into me.

His eyes don’t waver. “I’m clean,” he says, blunt but steady, like he’s laying down more than just words. “Plus I haven’t been with anyone else since you bulldozed your way into my life.”

I exhale, the air hot between us. “Me too,” I tell him.

The silence after is thick, charged, heavier than anything we’ve thrown at each other all night. Our gazes lock, and it feels like a vow, one neither of us thought we’d make.

I grab the lube, slick my cock until it glistens, my fist working tight around the length just to ground myself. I line up at his entrance, watching him shiver, and I can’t stop my smirk. “Spread open for me. Show me you’re ready to take it.”

He lifts his knees slightly higher, but his eyes are defiant...burning. “Not giving you the satisfaction.”

“Oh, you will,” I growl, pressing just enough for him to feel it, to stretch around the thick head of my cock. His body tightens as it grips, and fuck, it’s all I can do not to shove all the way in. “You’ll beg, Xander. You always fold when it counts.”

“Dream on,” he hisses, but then I sink another inch, and he chokes out a sound that has my eyes rolling back.

I stop, hovering right there, refusing to move further. The tension in the room is unbearable, the air hot and heavy with sweat and need. His nails dig into my back, his chest rising hard.