Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 286

I follow him down the hall, every step heavier than the last. My pulse is in my throat....anticipation, adrenaline, a sliver of “Oh fuck!” curling tight in my gut. He pushes open the door to the washroom and walks in. I step in after him and reach for the lock out of instinct, but then....

“Leave it open.”

My hand freezes. I look at him, and the implication hits hot and low in my body. He’s really serious about wanting them to hear. I don’t even know how I feel about that. It’s fucked.

Them hearing me give him a blowjob is one thing. I can handle that. But them hearing him fuck me? I’ll never live that down. Never. My chest tightens just thinking about it, and somehow the thought of it makes my pulse spike in ways I can’t control. God, the bastard knows exactly what he’s doing. He loves that he’s getting under my skin like this.

I step forward. Jax’s fingers slowly glide over the edge of the sink, almost thoughtful, the pads of his fingers dragging along the cool ceramic, then the counter, following the curve like he’s testing its sturdiness. The veins in his forearm flex, and then his eyes lift to the mirror.

He catches my reflection. Holds it....doesn’t blink.

“I’m gonna enjoy this,” he says. My gaze flicks to the glass, my shirt hanging open, my zipper undone, my hair a mess and my lips swollen. I look like someone halfway ruined and begging for the rest.

And the image of getting fucked right here, in front of this mirror, hits me with a force that nearly knocks the breath out of my lungs.

He turns around, leaning back against the counter like he’s settling in for a show.

“Get naked.”

My eyes rake over him. He drags his palm over the bulge in his jeans, stroking slow, taunting. And the look he gives me....

It's carnal enough to make my knees weaken and my cock throb like it might tear free from my body. I strip embarrassingly fast. And suddenly I’m standing completely naked in this bright, too-clean room while our best friends are on the floor below us.

It’s insane....but as always, I'm too damn weak. Maybe because of the possessiveness and fire in his eyes. It pulls everything else out of orbit until it's just him and me and this gravity that destroys me every time.

“Come here,” he instructs.

I go without thinking. My cock is painfully hard, still buzzing from how he edged me earlier....so the second he wraps his hand around it, I choke out a strangled sound. He uses it to tug me in closer, dragging me right into his space. My hands shoot up, wrapping around his neck, clinging.

He opens his mouth to say something but I kiss him first, shamelessly frantic. And he gives it right back.

His hands slide down my back, mapping every inch he can reach. Pulling me flush against him until I can feel him, hard and huge, pressing right where I need him most. I break the kiss for half a breath. There’s something about standing here completely naked while he's still fully dressed that coils something hot and tight in my stomach.

Instinct kicks in, I reach for his shirt, wanting to get my hands under it, wanting to drag it off him so I’m not the only one stripped bare like this. But Jax catches my wrists before I can. He pins them behind my back with one hand, the other sliding down my stomach like he’s reminding me who’s calling the shots.

“Sorry,” he says against my ear, voice dark enough to make my knees weaken. “You don’t get a single inch unless I give it to you, Xander.” His grip on my length tightens just enough to make my breath stutter. “You’re gonna take my cock while I’m fully dressed, and you’re gonna feel every fucking second of it. That’s how I want you.” He drags his mouth down my throat, biting lightly. “Naked, needy, and remembering exactly who you’re opening up for.”

I know he’s doing it on purpose. His way of showing me who’s in control. Of reminding me I’m the one he strips open, while he doesn’t give anything away unless he wants to. His gaze drags over me like his hands already are. Then his mouth curves. “We don’t have lube, so you’re really gonna feel me.”

He says it like both a promise and a threat.

He grips my jaw, tilts my head back, and kisses me again. His tongue slides into my mouth like he’s reminding me who I came up here with. By the time he pulls back, I’m breathing hard, my lips wet, his breath ghosting mine.

Then he lifts one hand and brings two fingers to my mouth.

“Open up.”

I obey without even thinking. His fingers slip past my lips, warm and rough on my tongue. I close my mouth around them, sucking slow, then deeper, heat sparking through me when I feel him tense, just barely, but enough to know he feels it.

His other hand slides down my back and parts me. And then he drags his fingers down my crease until he’s right there at my opening.

He presses lightly, just enough to make me shiver around the fingers in my mouth. He takes them out and reaches down, pushing the tip of one wet finger in. My breath leaves me in a broken sound.

“Fuck! I can’t wait to get inside you.”

He pulls out, pushes back in.....slow, too slow. Torturously slow. Gentle in a way that feels like another kind of control. Another way of owning how my body reacts to him. He works me open, stretching me carefully. My thighs tremble. His breath is hot against my cheek.

After a few strokes, he adds a second finger, and I can feel him pressing exactly where I’m weakest.

I tuck my head into his neck, breathing him in as he leans back a little to get a better angle, his fingers pushing deeper, scissoring just enough to make my eyes roll.

Then he pulls his fingers out and turns me around with an easy, confident grip, guiding me where he wants me....my back against his chest, my front facing the mirror. He positions himself behind me, close enough that I feel the hard line of him against my ass even through his jeans.

Our eyes meet in the reflection. He runs a hand up my chest, over my scar, careful in a way that hits me harder than anything else. Then his voice drops to something deep and warm.

“You tell me if it gets too much.”

My throat tightens. I nod. His gaze narrows, “I’m serious, Xander.”

“I know,” I whisper. “I will.”

He keeps watching me in the mirror, his breath brushing my ear, and I realize I’m about to let him fuck me while while our friends are downstairs and while the door is fucking open.

And still, in this moment, I don’t care.

He firmly wraps his hand around the back of my neck, guiding me down until I’m bent over the sink. The cool porcelain meets my palms, and he places my hands exactly where he wants them. “Keep them there,” he orders. “You came pretty fucking easily last time without a single hand touching your cock. I’m sure you can do it again.”

A shiver rips through me. That means I’m not getting a single stroke. I feel him part me, his fingers firm, and I lift my gaze to the mirror. His meets it, eyes dark and locked on mine, and I watch him spit into his hand before he strokes it over his cock. My grip on the sink tightens until my knuckles go white.

“Just so we’re clear....” he states as his hand trails down my spine. “I’m still fucking you again when we get home. This is still me giving you a taste.”

“So you’re both considerate and a giver,” I manage, breathless. “I definitely hit the jackpot.”

That earns me the faintest scoff.