Songs for this chapter are:

The Hills- The Weeknd

Temporary Fix- One Direction

King- Years & Years

Harry POV.

Does this girl have any idea how sexy she is? Does she know that the shape of her mouth alone is enough to make me imagine very, very dirty things involving her. Picturing Tessa on her knees in front of me, her full lips open wide, tongue wet and eager to take me, to please me. I want to press my cock against her lips and tease the fuck out of her.

I can drive her body insane, the way she's doing to mine. Her lips are a light pink shade and the curve of her top lip is dramatic, like the lips drawn onto a cartoon character. A sexy one though, like Jessica Rabbit.

Fuck, I'm losing my damn mind over her. This can't be a good thing. I guess it's good that I have no qualms with being bad.

"These lips . . . the things you could do with them," I pause, remembering the way her mouth sucked at mine in my room and again in hers. "Do you want me to stop?" I stare at her, looking for any signs of nervousness. Her thighs tighten around my body and I take that as I "no", but give her a few seconds to respond before I make my move.

She moves even closer, pressing her body against mine under the water.

"We can't just be friends, you know that, don't you?" She inhales a quick breath as I lean into her, pressing my lips softly against the line of her jaw near her chin. Her eyelids flutter closed and I move my lips across her jawline, peppering her wet skin with affection. When my mouth touches the spot on her neck, just below her ear, a moan rises from Tessa, surprising me.

"Oh, Harry," the words send a shock through me. Her voice was so thick, so needy. For me. She's putty in my arms and my heart is racing at the idea of molding her pleasure around me. She's never been fucked, though I'm sure she's at least gotten herself off before.

I want to hear her moan my name again, just like I need to taste her mouth again.

"I want to make you moan my name, Tessa, over and over again. Please let me." My own voice is unfamiliar as I beg her.

It's silent except her heavy breathing and the low swish of the water moving around us. The water is still, only moving around our bodies in a calm wave. She nods.

"Say it, Tessa." I continue. I pull her earlobe between my teeth an gently bite down on her skin. She whimpers and rocks against me as she nods furiously.

A nod won't do, Theresa.

You want this, so tell me. "I need you to say it, baby, out loud so I know you really want me to." My hands move to her stomach and under my shirt covering her body.

"I want to . . ." Tessa's claim is rushed, desperate. I smile against the warm skin on her neck and she sighs. Those three words are invitation enough for me. I hold onto her body and she tenses, nervous that I may drop her, I assume. I begin to walk out of the water with Tessa attached to me. Her thighs are open and she's pressing against my hardening cock with every step I take.

I let go of her as we reach the bank and she whines, literally whines. The sound sends my blood straight to my groin. I climb up the edge and turn around to help her out of the water. She reaches for me, her eyes are set on my bare chest. I watch as her eyes shift to the tattoo on my stomach, the moth inked into my skin. She probably hates my tattoos, coming from whatever prissy little town she came from. Her God-fearing mum probably taught her that people with tattoos are evil and will eat her soul or some shit.

Tessa's probably used to seeing her clean skin, perfectly groomed boyfriend's chest. I watch closely as she continues to stare, attempting to decipher my ink. Her boyfriend has no tattoos, I'm sure of it. He probably doesn't even have a single scar on his skin, or in his mind.

I move away from her and she stands still, waiting for instruction.

I find myself unsure what to do with her. She's still staring at my skin, why is she still staring at my skin? More importantly, why does it bother me so much? I got my tattoos for me, not for some judgmental chick.

Why the fuck am I justifying myself right now? I never give a shit what women think of me, I only think about fucking them and how they come undone from my touch in a mutual distraction kind of way.

Stop thinking, Harry. I'm just like her overthinking everything. What is she doing to me? "Do you want it to be here? Or my room?" I cut to the chase. Should I fuck her here? I could lay her on the grass, spread those thighs, and have her crying my name out as I draw circles on her clit with my tongue.

Tessa shrugs her shoulders as I adjust my boxers. "Here," she chooses.

"Eager?" I ask her. I can feel the pull of her body to mine and wonder if she's feeling it too. I know she's turned on by me, that's obvious, but does she feel this overwhelming calling to touch me, the way I do for her?

"Come here," I order. She obliges with flushed cheeks and slow steps toward me. Faster, I want to rush her.

I don't have the patience to play teasing games now, I need to feel her. I need her to feel me. I'm going to fuck her, here on the grass. I'm going to lay her down and touch every inch of her sinfully gorgeous body. My black shirt is soaked, completely molded to her body like a latex glove. It needs to go.

I tug at the bottom of the shirt and bring it up over her head. It's not an easy task, removing the wet fabric, it seems to want to stay on her, the way that I do.

The first part of our day was catered to her and giving her a nice, simple day with me. The second part will go my way. I'm not used to having conversation or being asked about who I love most in the world. What I am used to, is using a soft body to draw pleasure from mine.

I spread the wet t-shirt onto the grass as a makeshift blanket for her to lay down on. My fingers are shaking when I spread the fabric onto the warm grass.

"Lie down," I instruct and help her onto the ground with me. I lay on my side next to her and prop myself up on my elbow to get a good look at her. Her body is exposed to me, her full breasts on display, her slightly tanned skin is literally glistening in the sun. She's a juicy, bright red apple, waiting for me to take a bite. I've seen many, many women much more naked than this but, fuck if Tessa isn't in a league of her own. As I'm admiring the curve of her hips all the way back up to her perky tits, two small hands attempt to interrupt. I sit up, the grass is soft beneath me, one good thing about the damn rain here.

I wrap my fingers around her wrists and push them back down to her sides. "Don't ever cover up," I tell her. Her eyes meet mine and I add, "not for me."

"It's just . . ." Her cheeks flare and she looks away. I don't let her finish her ridiculous statement.

"No, you will not cover up, you have nothing to be ashamed of, Tess." She doesn't look convinced. Who fucked up her confidence? "I mean it, look at you,"

"You've been with so many girls," of course she would bring this up. Why does she care if I've been with other girls, we aren't in a relationship and never will be. None of the girls I've been with were like Tessa, a few of them were similar, but I don't typically go for the innocent, never been fucked before girls. I like my women already experienced enough to fuck me like they know what they are doing. I'm no one's teacher, especially not in the art of sex.

Aside from Natalie. I'm reminded by that annoying little voice in the back of my head. Natalie, the sweet church girl with an ass too big not to be admired and hair black as oil. She was so inexperienced, she couldn't even get the condom on my dick. Attending Sunday School every week since she came out of the womb hadn't taught her that.

"None like you," I say when I look back down at her. She looks nervous, so deliciously new, and I want to be buried inside of her.

"Do you have a condom?" Tessa's voice drops in volume when she says "condom". Has she ever seen a condom? Natalie hadn't. Why the fuck am I thinking about Natalie right now?

I can fuck her now and win this entire thing. I can sink into her pure body and take what I came here for. She's staring at me now. Expecting. She thinks I'm the guy who takes chicks out here to fuck them in the woods. Especially during their first time.

"A condom?" I laugh, deciding right in that moment that fucking just isn't happening here. "I'm not going to have sex with you," even though I want to.

"Oh," Tessa says in an ashamed voice.

"Where are you going-" why would she assume we should leave because I won't fuck her? Oh!

"Oh . . . No, Tess, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that you have never done anything . . . like at all, so I am not going to have sex with you." I try to detect if she believes me. "Today," a little redness dissolves on her flushed cheeks.

"There are many other things I want to do to you first." And there sure as hell are. I'm going to make her beg for me. I need her body to surrender to my touch. Every inch of her will belong to me in this moment. I have her laying here, body exposed and ready, and I'm going to make the best of it, for her. I climb on top of her and she shakes a little when drops of water fall from my hair onto her face. I smile, watching her close her eyes, expecting more drops.

"I can't believe no one has fucked you before," I mean every word. I want to push my covered body onto hers so she gets a small idea of what it would be like if I was going to fuck her today. I prop my body up on my elbow place my hand on Tessa's neck, gently running only my fingertips between my ample breasts. They look so soft, big enough that I could fuck them, more than a handful but they keep themselves supported, creating a perfect set of perky tits, her nipples are hard pebbles waiting for my mouth to suck on them. If I stop here to admire them with my touch, I'll never keep my dick to myself. Thank God she's wearing a bra.

I trail down her stomach, the soft, modest curve of her stomach. Gooseflesh covers her skin and she sighs. I dip into her panties, briefly rubbing my thumb against the lining of her panties. My fingers drift over her pussy, sliding over her wetness to find her clit.

"Does that feel good?" I ask and take the bud between my thumb and forefinger. She doesn't respond. She's wet and swollen, her body is surrendering itself to me with only a touch. I've only just begun showing her how I can make her feel. I lean my head down and skim my lips across hers.

"Does it feel better than when you do it?"
I ask, I release her clit and run a single finger down her slit. I wonder what gets her off when she's alone. Does she come from rubbing her clit or fingering herself? I get the feeling she's more of a clit girl, straight to the point.

"Does it?" I ask again.

"Wh-what?"

"When you touch yourself? Does it feel like this?"

She still doesn't answer, why would she not just tell me? It's hot, so fucking hot to picture her lying on her dorm bed, legs spread and her small fingers teasing herself. She would have to keep quiet because her roommate is asleep but she would work herself to orgasm and cover her own mouth with one hand. Sometimes when she comes hard she may even bite down on her full lip and swallow her own gasps as she comes back to reality. I need to know how she does it.

She's still staring at me like I have grown an extra head. All I did was ask her about her masturbation. Oh. It dawns on me that Little Miss Priss has never made herself come. This seems very, very unlikely considering "Wait . . . you've never done that, either, have you?" I ask. I continue to tease her, enjoying the pool of her arousal coating my finger.

"You're so responsive to me, so wet."I breathe into her ear.

She moans. The sound is fucking exquisite. I pay attention to her clit again and gently pinch before rolling it between my wet fingers.

"What? Was . . . that?" Tessa's voice is nothing but a warm whisper, all conviction dissolved at my touch. II repeat the pleasurable pinch and roll while rubbing in small circles with my thumb. Tessa's panting now, her legs are stiffening and I know she's close. So close. I can't wait to watch her lose herself for me. I can't believe she's never felt the pure euphoria that comes with sex. Fuck, she's been missing out. Her back arches of the grass, lifting her tits closer to my face. Just one lick wouldn't hurt.

Yes it would. I would be distracted. I kiss her again, this time in earnest, claiming her and giving her exactly what she needs. I'm providing her with something she's never felt before. She's inching out of reality and I'm the cause for it. My touch. Me.

I push my free hand into her bra, cupping a perfect breast in my hand. I massage it, letting her feel more than one sensation at a time. Her legs are shaking now.

"That's right, Tessa, come for me," I encourage her. Her lying on the grass, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, stained cheeks, and her eyes, those eyes are fucking wild. "Look at me, baby," I beg, nipping at the flesh overflowing from her bra.

"Harry," she moans, her voice thick like paste, refusing to let me look away. She's so sexy, so erotic without even the slightest attempt at being so.

"Harry," she pulls me closer with the sound of my name. She's breathing so hard, trying to regain composure.

"I'll give you a minute to recover." I say as I slowly draw my hand out of her panties. A slick trail of her orgasm is glistening on her stomach where my hand rests. She sighs and I move my hand to the boxers to wipe them clean.

I'm so fucking hard right now, I can barely see straight. She's still laying here, her face looking like she just had the time of her life. She would take more, I know she would. Lord knows I would give it to her in a fucking heartbeat. Every part of me wants to climb on top of her and slide inside of her. I want to hear her gasps and feel her tightness around me.

Not today. I can't today. I stand to my feet and grab my jeans and shoes from the bank. I can feel Tessa's eyes on me as I get dressed again.

"We're leaving already?" Tessa's voice is quiet, laced with uncertainty. Does she want me to make her come again? Greedy now that she knows how incredible her body can feel.

"Yeah, you wanted to stay longer?"

"I just thought . . . I don't know. I thought maybe you would want something . . ." She looks humiliated. Why would she? Is she already regretting allowing me to make her come?

I should have known she would.

Tessa shifts her body, covering herself from me. She's already trying to rush away from me. Wait, she said she thought I may want something . . .

"Oh, no. I am okay, " I would fucking love to have your warm tongue teasing the head of my cock right now, but it's not part of this plan. "Not now," I add to be sure she knows I'm going to thoroughly enjoy it when it does happen. Tessa nods and pulls her jeans over her legs and her shirt over her head.

Watching her get dressed messes with my head. I want to stroll over and undress her again. She shifts on her heels like she's uncomfortable between her thighs. She shouldn't be sore, I didn't enter her at all. She's probably not used to having a puddle of her own come there. The thought makes me laugh and turns me on so damn much at the same time/

"Is something wrong?" I ask Tessa as I pull onto the gravel road. The sun has gone down slightly and the air is growing wet, rain is coming soon.

"I don't know. Why are you being so weird now?"

Weird? How?

"I'm not, you are."
Why is she so paranoid? Then again, why am I?

"No, you haven't said a word to me since . . . you know." She's too shy to be specific.

"Since I gave you your first orgasm?"
I say it for her.

"Um, yeah. Since that, you haven't said anything. You just got dressed and we left. It makes me feel like you're using me or some- thing."

Using her? For what?

Oh, I am using her. God damn it.

"What? Of course I'm not using you. To use someone I would have to be getting something out of it," I half laugh. When I look over at her she isn't laughing. Her eyes are red and a single tear falls down her cheek. Fuck.

She's crying?

"Are you crying? What did I say?" I don't understand her. Why is she so emotional and why does it make me feel so guilty? She takes everything I say and twists it into something rude. She thinks so little of me and I can't really blame her. She's so sensitive.

"I didn't mean it like that-I am sorry. I'm not used to whatever is supposed to happen after messing around with someone, plus I wasn't going to just drop you off at your room and go our separate ways. I thought maybe we could get some dinner or something? I'm sure you're starving." I squeeze her thigh with my hand. She smiles at me and I feel her eyes on me. I try to fight my returning smile, but fail miserably.

"So what type of food do you like?" I ask her. I don't know where to take her. I've never been to eat alone with a woman before. Sad, I know, but most of my time with women takes place elsewhere.

Tessa wraps her tangled hair around her hand to pull it up. I think I may like her hair up, it will give me a better view of her face. "Well, I like anything, really, as long as I know what it is-and it doesn't involve ketchup."

"You don't like ketchup? Aren't all Americans supposed to be wild for the stuff?" What an odd girl she is.

"I have no idea, but it's disgusting." She's so sure and proud and un-waiving over her hatred of ketchup. It's comical.

She laughs with me. "Let's just stick with a plain diner then?"

"So what do you plan on doing after college?" I ask her. Shit, I already asked her this. I'm fucking terrible at conversation.

"I'm going to move to Seattle immediately, and I hope to work at a publishing house or be a writer. I know it's silly," she looks down at her hands. It's not silly, I have the same dream. "But you already asked me that before, remember?"

"No, it's not. I know someone over at Vance Publishing House; it's a bit of a drive, but maybe you should apply there for an internship. I could talk to him." Vance would kill to have someone as bright as Tessa around there.

"What? You would do that for me?" She's astounded. I can hear it in her voice.

"Yeah, it's not a big deal." I shrug my shoulders. I hate the attention I'm getting right now. I can just feel Tessa gushing from the other seat. It's not a big deal, I would help anyone else. Really, I would.

"Wow, thank you. Really. I need to get a job or internship soon anyway, and that would literally be a dream come true!" She claps her hands. Literally claps them together like a child who's just won a giant bear at the fair. It makes me want to smile.

As I park Tessa looks a little unsure about the diner and I watch her eyes take in the outdated appearance. "The food here is amazing," I promise her and climb out of the car. The diner is nearly empty when we sit down. A stubby older woman brings our menus and I try to look anywhere but at Tessa. She starts conversation with me after we order our meals. She tries to pry into my childhood but I don't allow it.

"My dad drank a lot, he left when I was younger." Tessa blurts out during our conversation.

I don't say anything, I just frown at my plate and try not to picture her as a little girl, hiding from her version of my fucked up dad.

(Author's note: Some of you noticed some differences in dialogue, that's because I'm going off of the published version of After and it's a little different. Happy Thanksgiving to the Americans here! What are your plans? I just cooked for everyone at my house and now I'm tired and sleepy haha. Love you guys!! )