Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 22

He hums, mouth finally on me, and swipes a bead of moisture from the tip with his tongue. I go rigid, watching him slide the head between his lips. All I can think about is the deep, hot thrill of it.

“Shit, yeah...just like that,” I mutter, watching the way his lips move, the flush crawling up his neck. “Look at you. Fucking perfect like this.”

He works me over like he’s been dreaming about it, like he needs it, and I let myself sink into the filthy rhythm of it, into the obscene wet sounds, the heat, the tension that's been building between us like a ticking bomb.

I thread both hands in his hair now, rough, panting. He moans around me like he agrees, like he’s already there.

“Fuck, Xander,” I groan,watching him with heavy lidded eyes, “Mouth like that should come with a warning. Pretty sure your throat was made for this.”

He pulls off with a wet pop, mouth slick, eyes wild. “Shut the hell up,” he pants, licking his lips but not moving away. “You’re so fucking full of yourself.”

I smirk down at him. “You’re the one on your knees, pretty boy. I think it's safe to say you're full of me. ”

His nostrils flare. I fist a hand in his hair again, tilt his face up to mine.

His breath catches. And there it is. That split-second flicker in his eyes. What exactly is that look?

The hell does it mean?

I fist my cock and brush the head over his lips, he parts them slightly. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

His hands slide up my thighs, rough, angry, hungry. “I should bite your fucking cock off.”

“Do it,” I dare, voice dropping. “Bet you’d cry when you realized you couldn’t have it anymore.”

He growls, low and wrecked, and then his mouth is on me again...deeper, like he’s punishing me with every stroke of his tongue.

I groan, loud, letting my head thunk back against the rock. He moans around me and I jerk forward, cursing, breath shattered.

He glares up at me with his mouth full like I’m the problem, some stubborn strands of hair partly covering his eyes, and it’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. He's stroking his own erection through his jeans, and I already know I'll need to have a taste of him as well.

“You gonna come like this?” I whisper, teasing. “Gonna jerk yourself off while you choke on me?”

He pulls off again, panting hard. “You’re a perverted lunatic.”

I cup his jaw hard, thumb pressing against his swollen lip. Forcing his mouth to fall open, then I shove back inside to the back of his throat. Holding him there until his eyes brim and he's pulling back while struggling for air. I want his jaw aching and his skin smelling like me by the time I'm done. I tighten my hold on his hair again and start to really fuck that mouth. He chokes, groans, grunts and sucks away, until finally it's all too much, and I

know it's about to be over.

I crane my head back, his name sounding like some prayer on my lips as I come down his throat. As he takes everything I have to give with the same desperation.

He then lunges up and kisses me, violent and messy, tasting like heat and want. I swallow the sound he makes, dragging him closer.

“Want me to fuck you out here?” I murmur against his lips. “Right here where anyone could walk up and see you with your legs spread and your back arching for it?”

“That’s still never gonna happen,” he bites out, breath hot against my cheek, defiant even as his body practically trembles under my touch.

I grin.

"Yeah?" I murmur, fingers dragging down his chest like I’m reading him in Braille.

" I'd like to hear you say that again,” I whisper, dragging my tongue along his bottom lip “While you’re shaking under me. ”

His eyes flicker....fury, lust, war. I swear I feel it, pounding between us like a second heartbeat. He’s panting, fingers twisted in the hem of my shirt like he needs something to hang on to.

Then he wipes his mouth like he's trying to erase what just happened. Like he can pretend he didn’t just get off on choking on my cock like a man starved.

He starts to step back, all sharp edges and too-fast breathing.

“Nah,” I growl, reaching out and grabbing his wrist. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t look at me. Just tugs against my grip like he actually thinks I’ll let him leave.

I haul him back in, twist him fast and slam him up against the same goddamn rock he had me braced on. His back hits hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs.

He curses, and I’m on him before he can recover...pressing in, pinning him. His chest heaves against mine.

“I’m not done with you,” I murmur against his throat.

“ What else is new?” he snaps, jaw clenched.

I smile, tucking myself back in and zipping up. “What can I say? Been thinking about tasting you again nonstop since last night.”

That gets him. His eyes flick to mine, I lean in, lips grazing his ear. “But this time, I want it straight from the source.”

He stiffens under me. I drop my hand, let it trail down the front of his jeans, feeling him. He groans, low and broken.

“ Say you want it.” I tease, undoing his fly.

He laughs, bitter and breathless as he shakes his head. “ I swear you’re the most arrogant son of a bitch I’ve ever met.”

“Still not a no. It’s okay,” I murmur, wrapping my hand around him and stroking him, marvelling at how good he feels. “You can be rough with me. I know you’re dying to be.”

I tighten my grip slightly to prove my point, “You think I don’t see it? The way your hands twitch every time I open my mouth Like you’re this close to pinning me down and making me shut up? ”

I grin. “So do it.”

He doesn’t say anything for a beat. Then... “You want to taste it from the source, Jax?”

I hum against his throat, grinding against him. “Desperately.”

“Then get the fuck down and prove it.”

That’s all I need.

I drop, hands yanking his jeans down. He’s already dripping, and fuck, he smells like sex and heat and something that makes my spine light up like a fuse.

I glance up at him, his fists braced on the rock behind, chest rising and falling like he’s holding back a goddamn earthquake.

“You’re shaking,” I murmur, hot breath ghosting over sensitive skin.

He glares down at me, lips parted. “Shut up and be useful.”

So I do.

Slow at first. Just to tease. Just to watch him lose it inch by inch. Then rougher, hungrier, like I’m starving and he’s the only thing that can fill me.

And when he finally breaks....hips bucking, voice raw, fingers in my hair like he’s trying to anchor himself to the fucking planet, I don’t stop.

I ride the sound of him falling apart like it’s a goddamn symphony.