Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 221

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he pants, hips twitching upward. “I’m just collecting what I'm owed.”

I grin. “Yeah? Is that why you’re leaking all over my hand?”

He glares, then gasps when I stroke him just right. “Fucking—Jax.”

“What?” I ask innocently, even as I press my thumb harder. “You’re just dying to fuck me, aren't you.”

“That’s just now clocking to you?”

I squeeze his balls and a deplorable sound leaves his mouth before he bites his bottom lip and arches into me, thighs parting in invitation. Then his hand is suddenly in my hair, firm to the point of pain, and the gasp I can’t hold back is nothing compared to the thrill that shoots through me. He drags me down, and just like that, all the control I thought I had shatters.

I move between his legs, slow on purpose. I want him squirming. I want him aching. I want to watch every damn twitch of muscle and breathless curse.

“This what you want?” I ask before I lick up from his balls to the tip of his cock, flicking my tongue along his slit. He jerks like I lit a fuse.

“Fuck...Jax...”

"Yeah, say my name like you need it."

His thighs tense under my grip. He’s trying not to move. Not to give me the satisfaction. Then his hand tugs my head up sharp, and I’m forced to meet his gaze. Dark, narrowed....heated

“The more you mouth off,” he warns, voice edged with something, “...the harder I’m gonna fuck you.” His grip is firm, controlling, and I can feel the weight of it all pressing into me, daring me to test him.

I want to snap back, I want to argue. He chuckles knowingly, the sound rough and teasing, and my gut tightens further. “That’s what you want, isn't it?” he says, like he can see everything I’m trying to hide. “That’s why you’re winding me up.”

He wraps his hand around his shaft, then he rubs the head along my bottom lip, painting a slick trail of precum along it.

"I'm going to fuck your mouth until it's too tired to talk back, and then...” he taps his cock on my lips, “....I'm going to fuck you till you're a breathless shaky mess.”

His hand comes up, pressing against my jaw, tilting my head just enough that I can’t look away. My pulse spikes instantly.

“Open,” he instructs, and I freeze for a fraction of a second, then my lips part, almost against my will and he thrusts into me.

I can’t breathe.

He’s force and control, and every muscle in my body locks up as I try to keep up. My head is caught in his hands, pulled and held exactly where he wants it. My throat burns from his thrusts, my eyes water, my chest heaving, and the coil in my gut twists tighter and tighter until it feels like it could snap.

Every time I catch a breath, it’s stolen away again. I gag, choke, fight for the tiniest bit of air, and it’s like he knows exactly how far he can push me without letting me break entirely. When he finally gives me a single, fleeting breath, it feels like the world itself opens up for a moment.... just enough for me to gasp, desperate and raw.

And then he’s back on me, holding me down with hands firm in my hair, burying himself down to the hilt, my nose pressed against his abdomen.

I gasp, clawing at the sheets, trapped. My vision blurs, dark spots creeping at the edges.... and I fight to pull myself away, desperate for even a fraction of space. But he’s unyielding, holding me exactly where he wants me. My chest burns, lungs screaming for air, and every instinct tells me I’m about to break.

Just when I think I might actually pass out, his grip loosens. I jerk upright, head snapping back as I gulp in the deepest, most ragged breaths I’ve ever taken. My chest heaves, my body trembling from the strain, and my eyes narrow, glaring at him with everything I’ve got left.

“You fucking maniac!”

He tilts his head, breathless but looking almost innocent, like he hasn’t just dismantled me entirely, and the smirk on his lips is fucking infuriating. “Did.... did I do something?” he asks casually, completely at odds with the chaos he just left me in.

He gestures with his head to the space on the bed next to him. Then he pins me with a charged gaze and I feel the weight of it pressing into me. “Lie down,” he orders, tone commanding. My stomach twists.... the nerve of him.

I stall. My hands curl into fists, chest tight, trying to buy a second, any second, of control back.

“Don’t want to?” he taunts, voice silk and steel all at once. His smirk twists just slightly, and I can see it, can feel it...the bastard's enjoying this far more than he should.

I meet his eyes, pinned beneath his gaze, every instinct screaming both to resist and to submit. And finally, with a shuddering breath, I lie down as instructed.

He shifts, until he’s between my legs and I can feel the heat radiating off him. His hands grip my thighs and I flinch just slightly as he spreads me wider, holding me in place.

I watch as he glances down at me, at everything, and I can tell he’s savoring it, enjoying the control he has over me. Then he pauses, and I see him slick two fingers with his mouth.

He doesn’t rush. Every movement is calculated, meant to twist the coil inside me tighter. He pushes one past the barrier and I feel him working me open slowly. My fingers dig into the sheets, breaths coming sharp and ragged.

“I... I—” I manage, voice trembling, trying to make him go faster, but it comes out broken. I can’t stop the arch of my back, the way my muscles tighten under him.

“That’s it,” he purrs. “Keep looking at me just like that.”

He pulls out, then drives in with two fingers, I can feel him circling that spot that'll set me on fire in the best way, but he's intentionally avoiding it. Over and over until I can't bear it anymore. I choke out something....a whimper, a plea, a mix of protest and surrender, and his laugh is full of dark satisfaction.

“You good?” he asks.

“Either get it over with or let me fucking sleep,” I say through gritted teeth, hoping to strike a nerve. I do.

He curls his fingers slightly, finally pressing against that spot. “You mean like this?”

My back arches. “Fuck!...Xander,”

“You like that, don’t you?” he taunts, eyes dark, his free hand on my chest holding me in place. “Feel how much you're clenching around me?”

He pulls out slowly and reaches behind the pillows,I watch him pull out a small packet of lube. That grin tells me he’s been ready for this the entire time. With a sharp tug of his teeth, he rips the corner open, and the sound...that tiny, precise rip, makes my fingers curl, knuckles whitening.

He slicks himself, and my gaze is drawn to the movement, he coats his cock, stroking it afterwards. Then his hands move to me, pouring what's left on the crease of my ass before he spreads me open with one hand and massages the lube into me with his other. I'm shivering with heat I can’t contain. The noises escaping my lips when his lubed fingers enter me again should be embarrassing, but I'm too far gone to care.

Xander’s eyes drag over me. “How flexible do you think you are?” he suddenly asks, voice teasing but edged with danger.