Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 222

I narrow my eyes. “You trying to fuck me or audition me for a porn role?”

He laughs, short and sharp, leaning in until his breath hits my skin. “Someone sounds pissed, or are you just that eager to be filled by me.” His tone is a whisper wrapped in a taunt. “Bet if I wanted to fuck you on camera, you’d let me.”

My pulse kicks hard. He reaches for his pillow, still watching me. “Arch that back for me,” he instructs, and I take a second before I do. He slides the pillow beneath me, the movement unhurried but purposeful. Then he grabs my thighs possessively and adjusts me like he’s setting the scene exactly how he wants it. His hands slide lower, guiding my legs up, bending them at the knees with unhurried precision. The motion forces me open, tilting my body until I can feel the heat of him closer than I should.

He shifts closer, lining up his cock with my opening. When he finally settles, my legs rest along his shoulders.

He studies me for a long second, eyes dark, unreadable. “Perfect,” he murmurs. The position is too open, too exposed. Every instinct in me says to fight it...to shove him off, to reclaim some kind of control, but I don’t. I can’t. Because of the way he’s looking at me.

That hungry, focused gaze....like he’s seeing every part of me at once, not just what’s in front of him but what’s underneath. It strips me bare in a way that’s more intimate than anything physical could ever be.

I’ve never let anyone do this, never let anyone have this much of me. Before him, I’d have laughed, maybe even thrown a punch if someone tried. But with Xander, it’s different.

Because I can see it in his eyes how much he needs this too. And that’s the reason I give it. Freely and completely. Because somewhere between the dominance and surrender, there’s a kind of balance, a language we both understand perfectly.

His eyes are locked on mine and neither of us says anything for a beat. Just this heat and tension strung too tight.

Then he starts to press in.... slowly, just the tip at first, and my back arches, my mind recalling and knowing how much better it can get and trying to get there fast. But Xander refuses to be rushed. He drives in until he's completely inside me, then he catches my mouth in a kiss that’s all hunger and heat and frustration. It tears a sound from me that I don’t recognize. He pulls out, and slowly drives in again. I fist my cock with one hand and try to pull him closer with the other, to chase the rhythm my body’s begging for, but he won’t let me. His hands slide higher, capturing my legs, bending them forward until I’m completely open beneath him, pinned by the weight of his stare. The pillow beneath me makes it worse..... or better...I can’t decide which. It lifts me perfectly, turning me into a trembling, hungry offering. Every needy inch of me open and begging for him, and he’s savoring every second of holding me there.

He pulls out, holds my gaze, and slams back in, hitting that spot that has all my nerve endings flaring. I gasp....and he grabs my hips hard enough to bruise.

“Too much?” he asks, thrusting into me over and over, his breath hitching.

“No! Keep going. I can take it.”

And he does. I’m gritting my teeth so hard it hurts, trying not to lose it entirely even though I could easily fall apart right here.

“Christ!” he groans, voice strained. He’s a mess of muscle and tension above me, breath hitching, veins standing out in his neck. His arms shake, sweat dripping onto my skin. I can feel how much he’s holding back, how hard he’s fighting to stay in control, and it makes my pulse stutter....because I want him to lose it like I am.

“You feel fucking amazing.” he forces the words out.

“Then fucking move faster,” I snarl. “I’m not gonna break.”

He laughs, breathless. “Cocky even now.”

But he does. He pulls out and push back in harder. My head falls back, lips parted. He does it again, faster this time, and my moan turns into a curse.

“God! I'm so fucking deep in you Jax!” he rasps, hips snapping harder, his grip tightening around my knees, spreading me impossibly wider. “Take it for me.”

My hand scrabbles against his back, nails digging in. “Harder!”

“Say please.”

I glare. “Not a fucking chance.”

He slams in deeper and I choke on a sound that’s all pleasure.

“That’s what I thought,” he grows, pounding into me. The sound of skin, breath, the mattress creaking beneath us, it's everything. I can feel myself clenching around him.

“You feel so good!” he pants, leaning over me. “So fucking tight. You love it, don’t you?”

He lets go of my legs, voice rough as he tells me to keep them there. His movements grow harder, more urgent, each one stealing the air from my lungs. He replaces my hand on my cock with his and I can’t stop the sounds leaving me, can’t do anything but clutch the sheets, the fabric twisting as he drives me higher, faster, until everything else fades and I'm a desperate fucking mess. I'm barely able to think, barely able to breathe. And I don’t care....I need it, I need him, I need it all.

“I can’t hold on....much longer” I gasp, every movement burns through me, and I can feel myself unraveling. “Right there–fuck! Right there!” I yell, voice hoarse, body trembling. My pulse is pounding in my ears, everything inside me screaming for more.

Something in me gives. It isn’t gentle....it’s blinding. The world narrows to heat and movement and the sound of his voice rasping my name. My body arches, shaking, every muscle drawn taut as the rush tears through me.

“Say my name when you come,” he commands as he quickens his strokes and makes a muffled cry leave my lips. My eyes roll to the back of my head as sensation explodes through my body. Every time he brings me over the edge like this I think I've never felt anything this intense. My release shoots from me, and I utter his name.

I feel the shift in him a second before he breaks too....his control slipping, the sound that leaves him raw and unguarded. For a moment, everything else falls away. Then I feel him going taut above me, his muscles clenching.

“Ah!...fuck....fuck!” he shouts, It only takes a few moments, a few calculated swivels of his hips before his orgasm floods through him and I feel his cum fill me. He spasms, then collapses on top of me, smothering me with his weight until I can barely breathe. But I don't mind. He stays there, breath shuddering, forehead pressed to mine, both of us caught somewhere between exhaustion and satisfaction.

He eventually shifts off me, rolling onto his back with a low groan, the mattress dipping under his weight. The air in the room feels thick and spent. I turn my head toward him, watching his chest rise and fall, the faint sheen of sweat catching what little light there is.

“So,” I murmur, voice still rough, “....you happy now? Think you’ll finally let me sleep?”

He grins, dragging a hand over his face, still trying to steady his breathing. “Sleep?” he echoes. “I was actually hoping we could go again once we’ve both caught our breath.”

I scoff, shaking my head, a smile tugging at my mouth.

His eyes wander over me, slow and thoughtful this time, not the hungry look from before but something quieter. His hand twitches like he’s about to reach for me, and for a second I know exactly what he’s going to ask. Then he stops himself and starts to move toward me instead. I stretch out my hand and press it against his chest, stopping him where he is.

Then I tug the covers with me and roll over until I’m tucked against his side, my head resting just below his shoulder. His arm comes around me automatically, he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head. “Goodnight... I love you,” he murmurs.

I let his arms tighten around me, his warmth pressing in from all sides, and I exhale slowly, “I love you too.”

The rise and fall of his chest beneath me and the faint rhythm of his heartbeat against mine feels like the only thing that matters.