Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 197

Jax’s hand moves with the kind of patience that feels like cruelty. Every slow motion is a test, and I fail it spectacularly. My pulse is a drum under my skin. I can’t think, can’t breathe right, can’t remember the point of pretending I’m in control of any of this.

When I say his name, it’s not a word anymore....it’s a moan, a tremble, a damn surrender I didn’t mean to give. He laughs like he’s been waiting for that.

“Careful,” he says, voice thick with heat and amusement. “Say my name like that again, and I might start thinking you want me.... want me inside you.”

Something inside me twists hard. I want to push back, but the sound of his voice scrapes along my nerves. Then his grip tightens at the base of my cock and I bite back a sound, my chest heaving, but the second the credits roll, he lets go. The air rushes out of me like I’ve been holding it forever. It’s both mercy and punishment, I feel his absence like a pulled thread. My body doesn’t know whether to thank him or curse him.

“Turn around,” he says calmly. Like it’s not the order it is.

I should. But that reckless part of me, the one he knows too well, surfaces like a grin I can’t hide.

“And if I don’t feel like it?”

That earns me a soft sound from him. Not quite a laugh. Not quite a warning. His hand finds my hair, the pressure sharp and familiar.

“You really wanna test me right now?” His tone dips. “After all the games you’ve been playing?”

I swallow hard. He’s wound tight, I can feel it without even touching him. The tension is everywhere, in the way he looks at me like he’s already written my next move.

So I shift instead, turning slowly until I’m facing him, until I’m above him on the couch, knees braced, heart pounding. The look he gives me could burn through stone.

“What’s with that glare?” His head tilts just enough to make it infuriating. His eyes skim me like he’s reading every thought I’ve been pretending to hide. Then his fingers tap my cheek twice. “Maybe that’s the problem,” he murmurs. “You’ve forgotten what happens when you start acting like you can take me on.”

The air is fire. My pulse is chaos. I want to speak, but the words dissolve before they leave my throat. He knows he’s got me right where he wants me....and worse, he knows I don’t really want to leave. The warmth radiating off him is a constant pull I can’t, and don’t want to resist.

I feel heat crawl up my spine, the familiar pull of his dominance tangling with something reckless in me.

“Haven’t seen you on your knees in a while,” he adds. “Could be that’s why you’ve been acting up. Forgot where you belong....and I'm almost forgetting what that mouth can do.”

I want to challenge him....push back, test that streak of wildness that flares whenever it’s him. I lean in just enough that our lips brush, teasing....testing. My heart’s hammering, breath uneven, and I glance up at him, letting the words fall heavy between us. “You done talking to me like I’m your slut?”

His hands grip my waist hard and he pulls me down flush against him. The press of his chest against mine, of my bare cock against fabric, makes something deep in me melt. I groan without meaning to.

“You are,” he says. “And a mighty skilled one at that.”

I can’t help the scoff that escapes me. “And here I thought I was your boyfriend....”

A wicked smile curls on his lips. “Oh, I’m sure you can multitask.”

He gestures toward the floor beside the couch, and I follow, every nerve screaming, every pulse thrumming with anticipation. God, the way he looks at me, it's maddening. And I want him to own every inch of this, every second of the taut electricity buzzing between us.

Every thought in my head is fire and friction. I’m angry at him for making me feel this desperate.....but I’m also addicted to it. The line between control and surrender blurs, and all I know is that I’m caught, completely....entirely, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

He arches a brow, that slow, teasing lift that makes my skin crawl and pulse spike at the same time. “So, what exactly are you waiting for?”

I glare at him again, heat burning in my chest, fingers clenching. But I know the game. I know how this ends. With a slow inhale, I shift down onto my knees. Exactly where we both knew I’d end up.

Jax sits back, leaning against the couch, legs spread just enough to frame me. He watches me, eyes dark and dangerous, and I feel the pull of it, the magnetic draw of his control.

“Tell me,” his voice is low and dangerous, “...do you want to help yourself, or should I feed it to you?”

I can’t resist the snap in my voice, even as I know it won’t change anything. “ I'd treat me better if I were you....seeing as I'm the one about to have you gasping, shaking and far past your limit.”

My fingers linger at the edge of his waistband, trembling like they have a life of their own. Every nerve in me is alive, screaming, and I fight the urge to let it show. I want this...no, I need it, but letting him see just how badly? I’m not ready to give him that.

I lift my eyes, just enough to meet his, and the world tilts. He knows. He sees it all....every falter, every shallow breath. I can’t hide it, and the thought should terrify me, but instead it twists me in the best possible way.

I free him, letting his hard length spring into my hand, and the sight steals my breath. He’s already breathing hard, chest rising and falling like he’s about to snap. But he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even pause.

His hands find my hair again, tugging gently but possessively, and his voice drops low. “Take your time. I’m in no rush, and with how wound up I’ve been, I’m sure I can come more than once tonight. I’ll make good use of you.”

I start to open my mouth, something sharp and hungry on the tip of my tongue, but before I can speak, his hand wraps around his cock. His other hand guides me down, cutting me off. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you?” he hisses slightly, “....you don’t talk with your mouth full.” My pulse spikes, my chest tightens, and I shiver, completely at his mercy. I wrap my mouth around him, sucking him in....and the greed takes over.

I go to wrap my hand around him when he lets go, to reclaim a fraction of control, but his hand stops me mid-motion, firm and unyielding. “Uh-uh. Keep your hands where they are,” he says. “Let’s give that mouth its time to shine....and then I'll make sure it's fully appreciated.”