Her Release (One Night Stand Book 3)

by Toni J Strawn

  I rubbed at my forehead, the beginnings of a headache forming.

  “What are you talking about?” I tried to remain patient.

  “I know how you work. Do this. Do that. Oh, you’re not fixed? Well it’s obviously because you didn’t do your exercises. Or, maybe you overdid them—”

  “Don’t put your bullshit on me, Jess.” I wasn’t in the mood for this. The conversation with my mom had been draining enough—guilt bubbling close to the surface. I didn’t need that from Jess.

  I stalked closer, continuing to stare her down. A spark flared to life in her eyes, the embers licking out to catch the tinder of my own desire. My breath came faster, mingling with hers, anger and frustration melting away until there was nothing left but lust. Want. Need.

  I lunged across those last few inches and claimed Jess’s mouth, pulling her against me, rubbing my aching cock against her belly. I’d been hard since the moment I opened the door and saw her there.

  What was she doing to me?

  Jess moved her hands up to tangle in my hair. She melted into me, offering her mouth as I thrust my tongue inside. I dug my fingers into the soft flesh of her ass in my attempt to get closer. She let out a low groan and it was only because I wasn’t sure whether it was pleasure or pain that I pulled back, my breath sounding harshly in my ears, my blood pounding. Jess followed me across the space I had made, settling back against my body. A perfect fit. She sucked my bottom lip into her mouth and pulled on it, sending an arc of pleasure straight to my crotch. My cock was a painful ache. I ground my hips into her, then pulled back with a groan.

  Jess looked so gorgeous. Her tongue peeked out of her mouth, teeth nibbling on that bottom lip as she fought against a smug little smile. It was beyond sexy.

  And distracting. I wanted her. But I wanted to help her too. And to do that, I needed to seize her attention.

  Hell, I didn’t want to just seize it—I wanted to own it. Her energy fed my desire like a drug.

  And that was a dangerous thing.

  Jess wriggled against me. “Is this part of my session today?” Her eyes were glazed, her breath coming hard, seconds from coming back in for the kiss that would end all of my resistance.

  Stepping away was the hardest thing, but I had to do it, the grip on my control was too weak to give it up right now.

  “No. You obviously have excess energy to burn,” I said, backing toward the door, putting distance between us. “You’re going back in the ring.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Jess

  The top came off the champagne bottle, making me jump. I was exhausted. I slumped onto the couch with the grace of a hippo, watching Van fill two glasses. He moved with practiced economy. Fluid grace. Yummy. I could have sat there eating him with my eyes all day.

  I winced as my shoulder rubbed against the cushion. I had a couple more bruises to add to my collection after my sparring effort today. Mind you, Van had a few too. I grinned, perking up a little. I loved the fact he’d donned gloves and gone up against me towards the end of our session. I’d thought he might had gone easy on me, but he hadn’t.

  He finished pouring and handed me a glass.

  “To the winner.” Van grinned, chinking his flute against mine.

  I raised a brow. “And who was that?” I asked, leaning back in my seat. He sat beside me, resting his ankle against his knee as he settled himself into the corner of the couch.

  “Boxing was the winner on the day.”

  I spluttered as the bubbles went up my nose. “Ha. I could’ve kicked your ass.”

  “Then you should have,” Van said smugly.

  “Next time,” I promised. Van was too strong, too agile, too everything for me to have a hope against him, and we both knew it. But that didn’t mean I would stop trying. “On a serious note, I would like to have a proper go at boxing one day. Maybe someone more my ability. And size.” I dug her elbow into Van’s ribs.

  “I’d pay good money to watch.” He grinned wickedly.

  My mouth dropped open. “So, you’d let me do it?”

  “It’s not about letting you. You need more training, but sure, there’s no reason why you couldn’t do it.”

  “To boxing, then.” I tinked my glass against his.

  “To boxing.”

  I took a sip, a glow warming my belly. And it wasn’t the bubbles making me feel lightheaded. It was Van. He didn’t tell me no. He was allowing me to do stuff I would never have thought of attempting. No one else at the clinic would have let me anywhere near a boxing ring, yet I’d just demonstrated that not only could I do it, I was good at it.

  And it was because of Van. My chest tightened and I wiped my hands against my thighs.

  He’d empowered me to achieve more in one week than I had in the last year of my rebellion. I couldn’t have done it without him in my life. And I liked him being there, a little too much.

  He was just doing his job, I reminded myself. Chances were, I was one of many in a long line of women Van took a special interest in at each of the clinics he’d visited. He still saw me as a knee injury first. Jess second. Besides which, he’d made it more than clear he didn’t want anyone to depend on him.

  It was good Van was leaving soon. I took a sip of wine to hide the jolt of dismay that thought gave me.

  “So, is it my turn yet?” I transferred my glass to the other hand and made a show of looking at my nonexistent watch.

  Van smirked. “Not until the champagne is finished.”

  I took a huge gulp of my drink.

  “No cheating,” he warned. “I haven’t finished our session yet.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. Champagne and the taste of a woman is delicious. Very therapeutic.” Van’s expression was a slow smolder that had slices of pleasure sliding over my skin.

  I licked my lips. “Does it go with other things, too?” I let my gaze slide down his chest, lingering on the sizeable bulge in his pants.

  Wine sloshed over Van’s fingers. I chuckled, but my laughter died in my throat when he sucked the liquid off his skin. I pouted. He was stealing my fun.

  Van pulled me against him, so my back was to his chest. The warmth of his breath stirred the hair at my neck and he stroked his thumb across my stomach through my shirt, a rush of desire flaring low in my belly.

  I relaxed back into the curve of his shoulder, angling my neck so he could access the sensitive skin below my ear. Van nuzzled into me, sparks of pleasure dancing in my veins as his tongue licked at my throat. He got busy lifting my shirt up and off, passing my glass from one hand to the other.

  Van shifted positions, settling further down the seat and pulling me across him so I lay across his lap, supported by the padded cushions. I bit my lip, refusing to gasp out loud as wine splashed across my hand. The bubbles sizzled against my skin.

  “Here, hold this.” He handed off his glass to me as well. I was stuck. I couldn’t move without spilling champagne all over myself.

  Van took full advantage. He pushed my bra down, baring my breasts, while I tried to hold the drinks steady. A prickle of heat swept across my chest, up my neck to envelope my cheeks, hips shifting restlessly as a familiar ache of need began to build in my sex. Van dipped his fingers into his glass and I jumped as he rubbed the cold, bubbling liquid over my breasts. I started shaking, drops of liquid spattering on my belly. It felt ice cold against my fevered skin.

  “Easy,” Van soothed. He relented and placed the glasses on the coffee table. Then his attention ricocheted back to me. I let out a gasp as he leaned forward and sucked at the moisture on my breasts with deep, lip-smacking noises.

  Hot and cold. The heat of his mouth was intense, quivers of pleasure spearing straight to my clit, engorging my sex so that even tiny movements created a delicious rub.

  “Mmm. That tastes good.” He burrowed his arm under my neck and the next moment my legs went from under me when he scooped me into his arms. “Bring the wine,” Van ordered, dipping me down so I could grasp th
e nearest glass.

  It was only ten short steps to Van’s bed. He let me down and I slid against his body until my feet rested on the floor. I put the glass on the bedside table as he pulled at the waistband of my pants, impatiently pushing them past my hips, along with my panties.

  Then it was his turn. I salivated, fingers gripped together as Van’s body was revealed, inch by tantalizing inch.

  He brushed back a lock of my hair. That was all it took. I pulled him forward, sending him sprawling across the bed, slamming into me. The tension released as his arms tangled with mine, skin sliding against skin as he struggled to right himself.

  “Oh, you’ll pay for that,” he promised with a low, sexy laugh.

  “Yes. Please. Make me pay.” I tried to tug him back down.

  “Behave,” Van warned, twisting out of my way. “And stay still.”

  He dipped his fingers back into the champagne flute and started at one nipple, drawing a V with the liquid so it went down to my belly button and back up to my other breast.

  “V for Van,” he murmured. “I’ve marked you as mine.

  My heart fluttered, wishing it were true, even as my mind created fifty reasons why it shouldn’t be. My uncertainty dissolved into pleasure when Van delivered heated kisses that chased the trail of wetness as it dribbled down my stomach, into my navel and on, slowly licking at my thighs.

  Wherever the champagne went, so did Van. He slid his hands around the tops of my calves, pulling my legs apart as his thumbs stroked the sensitive skin around my knees, kissing and licking his way down to my ankles. His hair tickled my shins. His hands inched up to stroke my thighs and I gave myself to the feel of his lips nuzzling my flesh while his hands grew more insistent, opening me farther.

  Tantalizing, teasing, Van rose back up to swirl his fingers into the champagne. He brought it to my lips, wet and dripping. I flicked the tip of my tongue around the pad of his forefinger and drew it into my mouth in a long, sensuous pull. Van swayed against me. His body tensed as he let me suck at his finger for a moment then he drew it out again.

  Before I could reach for him, he picked up the glass and tipped it back, filling his mouth. He swooped back down to claim my breasts. Mouth-warmed liquid spilled over my nipples to run in rivulets down my belly and across my sides. Van sucked at my stomach, his hands stroking, lower and lower. I writhed beneath him as his fingers came to rest below my pussy. I was hyper-aware of how close his thumb was to my wet, throbbing clit.

  I didn’t know which hot spot of pleasure to concentrate on, the sensations jumbling together, moisture pooling at my thighs, coating his fingers. I stifled a cry as his thumb circled my labia, finding the ache at the very center of me. He slid inside effortlessly.

  There was no more time for thought. His lips were still on my belly, his thumb twisting to curl and hit the right spot. The molten coil inside me twisted tight, pressure building hard and fast.

  “Van.” I gasped as his mouth landed on my pussy.

  A ripple of sweat sheened my body. My hips rose from the bed, and I tangled my hands in his hair. Van knew exactly how to play me. He flicked his tongue across my clitoris, the slow pull and thrust of his thumb increasing as it pressed into my depths. Relentless. I came apart, everything drawing together for one exquisite moment of ecstasy.

  Van murmured soft words of encouragement as I quieted, his hands smoothing the curves of my body. Before the last aftershock faded, he came back up the bed and his mouth found mine. I tasted the tart sweetness of champagne mingled with my own musky flavor on his lips. Mixed with Van.

  My body responded and I pulled him to me.

  “Condom. Now,” I ordered.

  When he was sheathed, Van cradled my ass in his hands and slid all the way, until nothing lay between us. Chest to chest, hips joined, legs entwined. He went deep, going hard, his mouth finding mine as pleasure knotted inside me again.

  “Harder.” The cry was wrenched from deep in my belly.

  Van’s tempo increased. His balls slapping against my thighs, soft grunts of pleasure exploding every time his shaft wedged deep. I dug my nails into his buttocks, urging him on.

  My control was gone, stripped away by the exquisite feel of his cock sliding inside me. Sweat dampened my crotch, the musky aroma of sex wrapping me in its sensual heat, sharpening the hard edge of my desire.

  “Ah. Fuck. Jess.”

  The world exploded around me for a second time. With a cry, Van collapsed and I held tight until the tremors receded and the air cooled. I let him lie there for a moment before pushing at him.

  “Heavy,” I murmured.

  He rolled to lie beside me, his breath still rough and uneven. Then he turned to me with a grin.

  “Pleased with yourself much?” I brushed my thumb across his satisfied smile.

  Van smirked. He tried to capture me under his arm but I ducked out of range, twisting up on my knees. It was my turn now.

  “Careful.” He sat up as I winced.

  I adjusted my position, my teeth clicking together. “What, so it’s fine as long as you’re doing it?”

  Van’s smile faded and he shifted on the bed. There was something in his expression. I stared at him, my breath catching as the pieces tumbled into place.

  “Oh fuck. That’s it, isn’t it?” I sat up, my heart thumping. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

  “What?” Van tried for innocent, but the drop in his shoulders told me the truth.

  “Sexercise,” I spat out, glaring at him. “You’re controlling me. ‘You can take control in the bedroom, Jess.’ Bullshit.” I pointed my finger at his nose. “You’ve been controlling everything. Haven’t you!”

  Van flicked his gaze around the room, then came back to me. He blew out a short breath.

  “To some degree,” he finally admitted.

  Anger bubbled up in my chest, my lungs burning. I scrambled off the bed, looking around for my clothes.

  “Don’t deny you haven’t enjoyed it.” Van grabbed at my arm, pulling me around to look at him. “What does it matter if we’re both having fun?”

  “That isn’t the point.” I wrenched free. Where was my damn bra? I scanned the floor for my clothes, already regretting the wild abandon with which I’d lost them. In light of what I’d just found out, it seemed all the more humiliating.

  Van crossed his arms, frustration written all over his face. “You want control? Take it. Take whatever you want.” His eyes glinted dangerously and he got off the bed. “I don’t give a shit who does what, I just want you. I love it how you scream out my name when you come, Jess. It turns me on. That’s why I like doing things to you. So, you’re right. I’ve been a selfish bastard. But, here’s your shot.” He lay on the bed, flinging out his arms, watching me warily. “What do you want to do to me?”

  Fuck. He was so damn hot. I tried to catch enough air to fill my lungs. Despite my anger, my pussy was wet, my nipples tight and tingling. Need scattered my thoughts. He was right. What did it matter? I enjoyed this, didn’t I?

  The temptation to give Van back as good as I’d got was too much for me to step away from. With a shudder, I climbed up on the bed. I gripped his hair, staring down at him, trying to see the truth in his eyes. Van’s gaze never wavered.

  “Tell me what you want. I’ll do it. Whatever you want.” His tongue came out to touch his top lip.

  I tightened my hold, knowing it must hurt. I wanted him to hurt. “I don’t want any more of this control stuff,” I rasped. “I want to fuck like we’re equal.”

  “Then do it.”

  There was still a half glass of champagne left. I grabbed it up.

  “My turn.”

  I doused my fingers in the bubbles, liquid running down my wrists as I brushed the tips of my fingers across his mouth. He let out a soft groan as my lips followed, licking and nibbling at his mouth. I sucked the flesh of his bottom lip between my teeth and bit down, hard, but not hard enough to draw blood. He lay still and I let go, licking the spot to soo
the the hurt.

  I wet my fingers again, giving Van an arched look as I rocked back on my heels, pondering the sweet torment of where to dabble the champagne next.

  I drew lazy circles around his nipple. Van appeared hypnotized, his breath catching in his throat. I traced a trail of glistening liquid over his rib cage, his skin taut under my touch. I hovered over him, my tongue teasingly close, wetting my lips. Flashing a wicked smile, I tipped the glass, allowing a small amount to dribble onto his stomach. Van cried out, catching my arm.

  “Uh-uh-uh,” I warned, letting the glass swing in my fingers. Champagne sloshed around the edges, threatening to spill. “It’s my turn, remember?”

  Van lay back, his gaze wary. I smiled, well aware he couldn’t work out what was punishment and what was pleasure. A thrill of victory arced through me and I lowered my mouth, feeling him tremble as my tongue lapped, following the sparkling path across his skin. I wanted to tease and torment him, drive him as close to the edge as he’d driven me.

  I didn’t even get halfway down his body before Van erupted from beneath me. With a growl, he flipped me over, sucking the last of the wine from my mouth, his tongue tangling with mine on a low groan. He was close to losing control.

  “What are you doing?” I gasped out. Although I knew. I’d always known.

  “You said you wanted us to fuck like equals. I need to fuck you. Now.” His breath rasped in and out, his hands hovering over my body like he didn’t know where to touch first. He held back. Waiting for my answer.

  “Yes.” I squeezed the word out.

  It was all that was needed for Van’s leash to snap.

  “Condom. Now,” he ordered.

  His groan of satisfaction as he slid deep inside was everything I wanted. I might need Van.

  But I now knew that he needed me too.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Van

  It was an eternity before I could move again.

  Jess stirred beneath me and I sat back, loving the feeling of her gaze sliding over me. She smiled and my heart started beating again at the simple gesture. I realized I’d been waiting to see it. I wanted her to be happy. Not for the first time, I wished she wasn’t involved with the clinic, or that I needed her so much…