Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 153

Jax moves slow, like he knows every inch of me is hanging on what he’s about to do. He shifts forward and straddles me, his thighs flexing under my hands, and I grip them like they’re the only tether I’ve got to reality. My chest heaves because him choosing to give me what he’s never given anyone else....it’s almost too much to hold inside. Precious doesn’t even come close.

He wraps his hand around my length, steady and sure, lining me up with himself. The sight of it nearly undoes me. I slide my palms back, digging into the heat of him, fingers spreading him apart. My voice comes out heated. “Don't rush. Take me at your pace. As much as you can handle, as slow as you need.”

His hand cups my cheek softly, eyes pinned on me, and then he starts to sink down, inch by agonizing inch. My head drops back, a guttural sound spilling out of me because fuck...it’s not just the physical burn of how tight he is, though that’s brutal and perfect, it’s the surrender tangled up in it. He’s taking me inside him, letting me have this, and I’ve never felt anything so good, so fucking alive.

Every inch he lowers himself, my body tightens, wanting to thrust up, to bury myself hard, but I force myself to stay still. Because this isn’t just about getting in him. It’s about this night, the confession, the way his body wraps around me like I was made to be here. My hands grip his thighs harder, and I moan, breathless, undone.

He sinks down until I’m buried to the hilt. My vision whites out for a second. He’s gripping me so tight I can barely breathe, my nails biting into the muscle of his thighs just to anchor myself. His chest rises and falls rapidly, sweat slick on his skin, and when his hips finally hit mine, I swear I feel something shatter inside me. Nothing in the world could’ve prepared me for the sight of him taking me like this.

He rises just a little, a tremor running through him, and then sinks back down with a guttural sound that has my cock twitching inside him. My head tips back, a desperate sound tearing out of me. I’m gone. Completely fucking gone.

Then he leans over me, hand sliding into my hair, his forehead pressing to mine. His voice is deep and daring, “Take over, Xander. Fuck me.”

The words detonate in my skull. My hips buck up instinctively, and I grit my teeth, holding myself back by a thread. “You sure?” I sound entirely out of it. “Because I’m not sure I can be gentle with you holding me like this. You’re so damn tight... strangling my cock...”

His lips ghost over mine, that reckless fire in his eyes, and he breathes out, “Do your worst.”

Something feral surges through me. My hands slide from his thighs to his waist, gripping hard enough to bruise. “Hold onto the headboard,” I instruct. He obeys instantly, fingers curling around the wood. The sight alone almost unravels me.

I raise him just enough, pulling out until only the head of my cock remains inside him, then thrust back in...slow and torturous, making sure he feels every ridge, every vein. His whole body jerks, a raw sound spilling from his throat, and I can’t help but bite out a curse. I do it again, dragging it out, giving him just enough to drive him insane without breaking myself apart in the process. Every stroke feels like I’m carving my name into him, like I’m owning every fucking piece of him he’s never let anyone else have.

And it’s killing me....how much he’s giving me, how much I want to give back.

I shift my hips, angling just right until I feel him clamp down around me and break open with a moan that’s nothing short of a prayer. My name rips from his throat and I nearly lose it then and there. I pull out slow, savoring the drag, then slam back in, and he gasps, head thrown back, sweat dripping down his chest.

“You’re fucking killing me,” he pants, voice wrecked, cock leaking between us.

My hands clamp tighter on his waist, knuckles white with restraint. “Say it,” I order. “One more time.”

His eyes are glazed, lips parted, body trembling above me. “Say what?” he gasps, like he’s already drowning.

“That you're killing me? Coz you fucking are!”

I shake my head, grab his cock and stroke once, hard, and his head snaps down, eyes going wide, a curse spilling from his mouth. “Not that,” I rasp, voice rougher than I recognize. “The other thing. You know what I want to hear.”

Our gazes lock. The air between us crackles, thick with heat and the weight of everything. He dips down, kisses me wet and desperate before breaking just enough to whisper against my lips, “I love you.”

Something inside me snaps. I lose every last shred of control. My hips piston up hard and unrelenting, each thrust deeper, slamming into him like I’m trying to brand myself into his soul. His moans echo off the walls, nails digging into my chest, and when his hand tangles in my hair, yanking, it only drives me harder.

I wrap my fist around him again, pumping him in rhythm to my thrusts, but then his hand comes down over mine, both of us stroking him together. The slick sound, the heat, the way his cock jerks violently in our hands...it’s obscene and so utterly perfect.

He comes undone with a cry and my name on his lips, spilling all over my chest, thick and hot, painting my skin. The sight of him breaking, the feel of him clenching around me as he rides out his orgasm....it’s my undoing. A guttural roar rips from me as I slam up into him one final time, spilling deep inside him, my body shaking with the force of it.

We’re both left panting, bodies sticky, every nerve scorched raw. And still, I can’t stop staring at him, can’t stop feeling like he just gave me the entire fucking world.

We collapse into each other, a tangle of sweat, heat, and shaky breaths. Jax sags against me, his forehead pressed to my collarbone, chest rising and falling like he’s trying to catch a breath he’ll never fully get back. My own lungs drag air in ragged pulls, but my hand moves anyway...slow, steady strokes up his spine, over the damp skin of his back, down to where we’re still joined.

I’m still buried inside him, pulsing faintly, and neither of us even thinks about moving. It’s too much, too perfect. The world feels hushed, suspended, like nothing exists outside this bed, outside this moment where he’s mine and I’m his. For once, there’s no fear, no running, no second guessing. Just us, bound together in a way that feels absolute, like this was always where we were supposed to end up.