Barclay

“Lay your head on the pillows,” I command, and Tessa obeys in quick measure. Her hair billows around her face, shimmering in the dim lights.

She lies on the bed like an ethereal goddess—the kind men fought wars over, killed, and died for. Yet she doesn’t have a clue what she does to me, how I’d love to fully claim her like a chest-pounding Viking until she moans my name.

I push those thoughts aside and climb up next to her on the bed, easing the pink dress down her slender legs, then tossing it to the floor. Tessa gazes up at me shyly, like she’s asking me if I approve of what I see. Hell yes I do.

Blond hair of an angel, and a body so sinful, even the devil would blush. Long toned legs, curved hips leading to a small waist, full breasts with a shade of pink that matches her pouty lips.

“You’re perfection,” I say with a sense of awe. She exhales the breath she’s holding and smiles back at me. What’s happening between us is brand new for her, and my encouragement builds her confidence.

I glance down at the miniscule lace between her legs. It’s a sheer veil letting me see enough to know she’s bare underneath. It’s not what I expected from a virgin, but neither was the sex handbook.

Positioned at the end of the bed, I wrap my hands around her slim calves. Gently parting her legs, I place one on each side of me, making her open and vulnerable to me. Her panties are wet at the center, and I lick my lips, imagining her sweet taste.

In slow brushes, I caress the inside of her calves, testing the waters for a reaction. She squirms under my fingertips and gazes up at me with pleading eyes.

“You like that?” I ask with a smirk, knowing full well she’s going out of her mind with anticipation.

“Please, don’t stop,” she begs, holding the white bedding tight in her fists.

I continue a path up the inside of her thighs, across the silky lace, until I have the weight of her breasts in my hands. They’re firm, full, and real, her nipples peaked, ready for my touch. My thumbs pass over the tight center in a quick back and forth graze. She hums in appreciation.

“Please, Barclay. Please.” I glance up to find her eyes closed, and her face twisted somewhere between pleasure and pain. Basically, she’s a needy mess, and I love it.

“Look at me, Tessa.” Her lashes flutter until she gazes up at me, her baby blues clouded with desire. “What do you want?”

“More. I need more.”

“Do you need me to take care of that ache?” My hands slide down her side, toying with the lace of her panties.

“Yes, please,” she breathes.

Lowering my body between her thighs, I press my boxer-clad erection against her sex. After a deep breath, I begin to swivel my hips as I thrust forward. Tessa presses herself against me, giving us both more friction. She’s so wet and slick.

I smile down at her, and she answers me back with a lazy grin. Ready to give her even more, I take a nipple into my mouth, flick it for a while with my tongue, then suck it between my lips. She grabs on to my back for dear life and lets out the sweetest moan.

“Oh my God,” Tessa cries, arching her back, then weaving her fingers through my hair. “I had no idea it could be like this. Everything you’re doing is magical.” I hold off a laugh and smile, loving her innocent dirty talk.

“No one’s ever told me I’m magical before,” I whisper in her ear. “Thanks.”

“You are. Do that flicking thing with your tongue again.” This time, I chuckle, because that tongue move is nothing compared to the one I’d like to do somewhere else.

“So bossy,” I tsk.

Unexpectedly, she wraps her legs tight around my waist, and I realize we’ve gone past the taking-it-slow-part straight into teenage dry humping, and I’m all game. Hell, I can’t remember the last time I came in my boxers, maybe junior year at boarding school.

In all fairness to Tessa, she missed this rite of passage, and needs one full-fledged dry hump before she experiences the real thing. It’s kind of like warming up in the batter’s box. After a good practice swing, she’ll be ready to take the real pitch.

“Put your hands over your head.” She lifts her arms up and lies them on top of the pillows, causing her breasts to press up into me. Pouty lips and perky boobs—her body’s a wet dream centerfold.

Moving my hand up, I grasp both of hers in mine and press them into the pillows.

“Okay with that?” I ask, looking into her eyes. She nods and bites her lip tentatively, yet wants more.

Needing to feel even more of her, I wrap my free arm under her knee and place her leg in the crook of my elbow. Adjusting to the new position, I start to push and thrust forward harder, keeping the spin of my hips.

“Oh my God,” she mutters after a few passes, her eyes closed so snug, I can hardly make out anything but her long lashes. “I’m going to die.”

Me too. “Oh, sweet girl. I’ve got you.”

I thrust, swivel, push on repeat, feeling my own orgasm begin to claw at me. I suck her nipple into my mouth and bite down on it harder than before. Her legs begin to shake, and I don’t let up one damn bit.

“Ohmyohmyohmy. Ahhhhh,” she mumbles, chasing her orgasm until she starts to relax in my arms.

When she looks up at me in complete bliss, something unspoken passes between us. It’s deep, definitely beyond the moment of lust, and like nothing I’ve ever experienced before with a woman. And it’s her breathy sounds, and the scent of her sex floating in the air, that push me over a cliff like I’m free-falling.

“Fuck,” I call out in a long, loud groan after a couple more thrusts, squeezing my eyes shut. I collapse beside Tessa and try to catch my breath.

Holy shit. What the hell was that?

I wasn’t even inside her. I open my eyes to find Tessa staring right back at me, searching my face. She’s so beautiful in her sweet afterglow. I give her a reassuring smile and kiss the tip of her nose. Her eyes fill with happiness.

“Jesus, Tessa,” I pant. “That wasn’t your first time, was it?”

“Well, I thought I’d had one before, but now I’m not so sure.” She stretches her body out on the bed and gives me a satisfied smile. “That was mind-blowing, out of this world, and beyond anything I ever could’ve imagined. Can we do it again, please?” She pouts her lips and bats her eyelashes as if I need convincing.

“Absolutely. I plan on keeping you around. You’re great for my ego.” I trail my hand down her neck and over her breasts.

“I get why people could go blind from having them now,” she says in a matter of fact way. I lift an eyebrow at her, surprised by this off the wall comment.

“Who told you something crazy like that?”

“Sister Mary Agnes.”

“Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure that was a guilt tactic.”

“Well, she can suck it. Nothing’s going to rain on my orgasm parade.” In a fit of giggles, Tessa curls into me, but I have a mess in my boxers. I forgot how awkward the teen years were.

“I need a shower. Care to join me?” I get out of bed, and extend my hand toward her. Tessa scrunches one shoulder up and tilts her head. The blush across her cheeks gives me my answer. “Okay, getting naked together can wait. For now.”

I bend over, kissing her on the forehead. “Get comfortable. I’ll be right back.” She sighs.

After my shower, I find Tessa fast asleep, the covers drawn up to her chin. She barely looks over eighteen, and a pang of something twists in my gut. Probably guilt. Sister Mary Agnes would be proud, but frankly, I don’t give a shit.

Before I slide in next to Sleeping Beauty, I text room service and order Pop-Tarts and coffee for two. I instruct them to deliver the food to Tessa’s room at eight a.m.

Eating junk food in bed while watching junk TV is my Sunday morning tradition. It’s a welcome escape from the pressure I face at Hammond again on Mondays. I hope she likes the cherry-flavored ones. They’re my favorite.