Harry’s POV
Making love to Ally was the easiest thing in the world to do, because I loved her with everything that I was, or ever would be. But bringing her pain, for the sake of my pleasure…was torture.
I had wanted it so badly; it was so forbidden, so taboo, and that made it all that much more alluring. But when I’d entered her for the first time and heard her suck in a sharp breath and felt her body stiffen…I’d expected it to hurt her at first, but I obviously wasn’t fully prepared for just how much it would, and I couldn’t do that to her. I had every intention of calling the whole thing off, but then she practically begged me to keep going. It was her plea for me to let her have that moment, that first with me, my first, to give even though she was receiving nothing but pain in return…that cinched the deal and made me continue on despite my reservations.
I was so in love with the woman that I was becoming a total b*tch for her. I would’ve given her anything she asked for. I would’ve snatched the moon out of the night sky and laid it at her delicate feet, gathered the universe up into a neat little ball and placed it in her tiny hands…anything she wanted. Because she deserved so much more than that, and I would sacrifice my entire life to make sure she f*cking had it all.
But I’d never be able to make up for treating her like a whore, for treating her like she was nothing more than a piece of ass that was solely there to satisfy my cravings for p*ssy, for treating her like she was just another toy I’d acquired, a piece of property…for stealing her innocence. How were we ever going to make it when our relationship was born out of the f*cking bowels of impure intentions to begin with?
I just had to have faith that we would, because if what we had was wrong, then I didn’t want to be right. Yeah, it was a corny line, almost as corny as that song,When A Man Loves A Woman. F*cking Michael Bolton and Percy Sledge…I know, but the words rang undeniably true. See? I was turning into a total b*tch for her, p*ssy-whipped to the extreme.
Let me prove my point…
During the actual deed, I was a nervous wreck. My body shook from both my fear of hurting her, and the strength it took to hold back and not plow into her; it felt that good. Not that her tight, little p*ssy didn’t; it was just that experiencing the forbidden dance with her was so…you only share something like that with someone you f*cking trust, someone you plan to spend the rest of your goddamn life with, someone with whom you have a sacred motherf*cking bond.
The intimacy of that moment was nothing like what I walked in on between Tanya and Jacob; there was nothing intimate about that freak show. That was just two whoremongers f*cking for the sake of f*cking, for the sake of gutting me and leaving me to bleed out onto the floor. F*ck that b*tch, Selena. That whore would never measure up to my girl. And f*ck that prick, Jake Johnson. He could search the rest of his goddamn pathetic life and never come close to finding what I had with my Ally. My Ally.
We needed it, that level of intimacy before our separation. And although I knew I needed to remain strong for her, it was f*cking killing me on the inside to know that she wouldn’t be there when I returned home in the evenings, that she wouldn’t be lying next to me naked in my bed every night, that she wouldn’t…that I wouldn’t see that look in her eyes on a daily basis. That look that said more than a thousand words ever could. That look that said that I was her world, just like she was mine. Lips were capable of saying anything, but the eyes…the eyes never lied, and what I saw there, reflected what I felt in every fiber of my being. She loved me. She really f*cking loved me. Not my money, not my status…me. And come hell or high water, I was going to make it f*cking work…somehow.
