Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 285

The sounds pouring out of me aren’t even words anymore. They’re wrecked, involuntary moans and broken groans that scrape out of my throat like he’s dragging them from somewhere deep and unguarded. My body bows into his hand without my permission, chasing every sharp pull of his fist, every rough stroke that lights me up from the inside.

I can feel it building. Low at first, then rising fast....Too fast.

“Jax....” I choke, head falling back, fingers digging into the table behind me because if I touch him I’ll lose whatever thin control I have left. “I....I can’t—”

He tightens his grip and I swear I see white.

“Yeah,” his voice is feral. “I know you can’t.”

His strokes get harder, meaner....exactly how I need them. My hips jerk up to meet every drag of his hand, I'm swallowed whole by the sheer, blinding pleasure. It’s hitting me in waves so big I can barely breathe.

“Let it happen,” he instructs, like he’s inside my head. “Just let go and come for me.”

I make some broken desperate sound and his hand slips, twisting just right. My entire spine arches. Jax’s lips part in something like awe and hunger mashed together. He looks right at my cock as he works me.

“Jesus, Xander....” He shakes his head, breath uneven. His thumb drags over the head again, claiming.

“You know this cock and every other part of you is mine. It stopped belonging to you the second I touched it. Yet here you are, trying to use it to mess with my head.”

A violent shudder tears through me.

He leans in even closer, mouth at my ear, hand still punishing me in perfect, brutal strokes.

“Come for me, Xander,” he whispers, dark and coaxing. “Come all over my fucking hand.”

The tension in me snaps so fast my breath punches out of me. My whole body locking up as the climax builds.

And then he stops.

Just....stops.

His hand shifts to the base of my cock, grip iron-tight, borderline cruel. It cuts the pleasure off so fast it knocks the air out of me. My chest heaves like I’ve been running, like I’m losing my mind right there in his hands.

“Easy,” he murmurs, watching me come undone from pure denial. “Remember your breathing exercises....a few calming breaths might help.”

I can’t speak. I can’t think. All I can feel is him, holding all of me hostage. Instinct kicks in before sense does, I grab at his wrist, trying to pull his hand away from the brutal hold he’s clamped around me. Anything to ease the pressure and not feel like I’m going to detonate out of my own skin.

Jax’s eyes snap to mine with one sharp warning look. It freezes me harder than the lack of relief.

“If I let go,” he warns quietly, “....you can forget about getting off.”

He leans in just slightly, voice too calm for the heat in his eyes.

“I’m willing to make myself suffer for a while longer just to teach you a lesson, Xander. I'll actually enjoy it.”

His fingers tighten for half a second, a promise of what he means.

“I clearly need to remind you how this works.”

I let go of him instantly, hand flying back like I’ve touched fire. My pulse is in my throat, my ears.... everywhere.

“Good,” he glances down at where he’s holding me. His grip slowly loosens, and relief punches out of me in a shaky exhale. Before I can recover, he starts stroking again, slower this time, excruciatingly slow.

When his thumb drags over the head of my cock, slick and unbearably sensitive, I shiver hard and jerk forward with a helpless sound. My forehead pressing into his shoulder. A moan breaks out of me, raw and grateful. His mouth curves, but it's not quite a smile.

“Look,” he says, tone a reprimand dressed as affection. “You see what you’ve done?”

I force my eyes open and he jerks his chin down. I look and realize he’s hard. The kind of hard that strains against his jeans like he can’t breathe right.

“Now all I can think about is pushing you against that glass and stuffing you full of my cock until you're leaking down your thighs.”

My pulse stutters at the admission, at how much I want it. His eyes come back to mine, darker than before, voice rough like gravel dragged over heat.

“So tell me, Xander....” He strokes me once, pulling another broken sound out of my chest. “....what’re we gonna do about it?”

I hate it and love it all at once. Every time I feel like I’m close, he stops me. Dangling it just out of reach. I glare at him, my body practically screaming, but I know it’s exactly what he wants.

“You said you’d beg if I wanted you to,” his eyes catch mine.

“I want you to.”

My pulse skips a beat and I almost crumble right there. I lean forward, ready to beg, heat pooling impossibly fast....but I shake me head and stop myself. I can see it in the way his lips twitch. He likes it when I give in easily. But he fucking loves it when I fight him, when I make him work. It’s the way I resist, even a little, that sets him on fire.

I wrap a hand around his wrist, pulling his hand away. “I’ve lasted two months,” I breathe. “A couple more won’t kill me.”

They honestly might....

His brows lift. Then he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Is that so?”

I shrug, trying to play it cool even though I'm mentally losing it. “Maybe I’ll get myself one of those massive, thick, veiny, silicone cocks. You know, the kind that could make me see stars on its own. Then I can have a ready cock on standby whenever I’m in the mood to be filled. One that doesn’t demand so damn much.”

He pauses, eyes darkening with something equal parts possessive and hungry, and I feel the tension between us snapping. He leans closer, so close I can feel the heat radiating off him. “Say that again,” he growls, low and dangerous. “I dare you.”

I glance at him, lips parting, chest rising and falling too fast. “Say what?” I taunt, “That I’ll get myself a hard backup cock that's ready to fuck me whenever I want?”

I see it immediately.... his nostrils flare, and that flash of raw, dangerous anger sparks in his eyes. Like I’ve crossed some invisible line he’d already claimed as his own. And damn if it doesn’t make my pulse hammer faster, thrill me like nothing else can. He wraps a hand around my neck...tight, his voice chilling. “I only wanted to hold off till we got home because we both know how loud you get when I’m fucking you.” His eyes glint wickedly. “I didn’t want your friends hearing how desperate you sound when you're begging me for more. But now....” His gaze sharpens, and I see the truth behind it. “I think I actually want them to hear. To know it’s me making their ‘tough, stubborn Xan’ shamelessly lose it.”

I see it in his eyes, he means it. And then he shifts his gaze to the windows, and I frown, narrowing my eyes. He can't actually be serious....there's people down there. He shifts his gaze back to me, and I catch the glint of something satisfied, like he’s reading every flicker of apprehension on my face and liking it. He then brushes his fingers over the buttons of my shirt, undoing them one by one. My skin catching every movement of his hands.

“Lucky for you, I’m too selfish for that. Don’t like anyone watching what’s mine.”

Before I can react, his fingers pinch my nipple, sharp enough to make me flinch, but the sting twists into something wicked and hot. My chest hitches, a mix of sharp pain and frantic desire coiling low in me. I groan, heat spreading to my now aching cock.

His gaze flicks left, narrowing like he’s calculating something, and I follow it, seeing the entrance to a hallway. He steps back, and I miss him instantly. When he speaks, his voice is edged with that same charged heat. “If you’ve forgotten who you belong to, then go back downstairs. Otherwise....” He pivots toward the hallway, not saying anything else, leaving me to choose despite knowing exactly what my choice will be.