Ethan squirmed under him, submissive and obedient. So different from that first time, when Jack had had to work hard to get something honest from him. Ethan had a pathological need to be in control, a product of history Jack didn’t know—wasn’t sure he wanted to know. But this right here, the sounds and shapes of him letting that control go, was a heady concoction that boiled through Jack like a dangerous mix of alcohol and a good dump of adrenaline.
