HPOV

Of all the things I expected her to do or say, this was definitely not it.

I was prepared for a slap, a shove, maybe a sharp "What the hell are you doing?" Something dramatic. But not this.

"Harry..." Her voice is low and certain. "Let's go to yours."

I blink. "Are you sure?"

She nods, breathless but resolved. "Yes. Let's go now, before I change my mind."

Before I can process it, she leans in again, gripping my collar and pulling me closer, her lips finding mine with urgency. I curse the fact that we're in a car, this damn partition between us like some cruel joke. Her mouth is soft, warm, greedy — velvet heat and longing. Her tongue meets mine, tentative at first, but quickly emboldened. The fire in my chest roars to life.

Her fingers weave into my hair, then glide down to cup my jaw, lingering there with tenderness. She drags them lower, over my chest, her touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Her eyes stay on mine, pupils dark, drinking me in. She bites my lip gently, then kisses me again, deeper.

God, she's driving me insane.

I've imagined this. Over and over. Since the first moment I saw her — on that sun-drenched beach, her bandana tucked into her windswept hair, Ray-Bans hiding those eyes, that stunning body moving with quiet confidence. And that bikini — Jesus. I thought I might combust when we went diving. My boner was so obvious Niall couldn't stop teasing me for hours.

But when I realized she wasn't just a passing beauty — when I saw her speak about her work, with passion and grit and fire — that sealed it. She wasn't just gorgeous. She was purpose. She had drive. She wasn't impressed by the fame or the flash. She knew how to wield it, how to use it for something bigger.

I knew about the age gap. I knew what people might say. But I didn't care. I've always been drawn to women who know themselves — women who don't play games, who don't waste time with shallow things. Ashley is all of that. And more.

Competing with the ghost of a man she clearly adored? That, I didn't plan on. But she's worth it. Every inch of her. Every breath.

"Come on," I murmur against her lips. "Let's go."

I slide out of the car and rush to her side, but she's already stepping out. I steady her gently, palm at the small of her back. We move quickly. No cameras in sight. I press her against the side of the car, needing another kiss — long, deep, and unrelenting. She moans softly into my mouth, and my hand slides up her thigh, skin warm under her dress.

"Harry..." she whispers, panting. "Let's just go."

I don't need to hear it twice.

We hurry into the lift, invisible in the quiet luxury of the hotel. I glance at her, and there's no doubt left. The hesitation is gone. She's fire now — not the polished professor, but a woman burning from the inside out.

At the door, I fumble with the key, finally get it open, and pull her inside. Her hands are on me instantly. Her mouth, urgent.

"Wait..." I slow her down, gently stilling her hands in mine. "Ash... slow down."

She freezes, flustered. "Okay... sorry."

I shake my head. "Don't be. I just want to take my time with you."

I drop my jacket and slowly pull off my shirt, giving her a moment. Her eyes trace every inch of me, a flush rising in her cheeks as she breathes me in. I approach her slowly, fingers brushing over her shoulders as I circle behind her, pulling her back against me so she can feel exactly what she's doing to me.

I shift her hair to one side and begin trailing kisses along her neck, to her shoulder. She shudders. My hands move to her zipper, and I pull it down slowly. Her breath hitches. Her dress pools silently at her feet.

"God, you're beautiful," I whisper, fingers grazing her bare skin. Her entire body responds, trembling beneath my touch.

I wrap my arms around her. "Let go, Ash. I've got you."

She turns her head, eyes searching mine. I see it — that deep need. The hunger she's tried to bury.

"Harry... kiss me. Please," she whispers.

I don't wait. I kiss her like I've been starving — deep, slow, devouring. She kisses back just as fiercely, her hands in my hair, pulling me in closer. There's no holding back now.

We stumble to the bed, and I ease her down, hovering above her. She arches into me as my lips explore her throat, her collarbone, down to her chest. Her skin is soft and trembling, her breath shallow, her hands restless. She's come undone — and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

"I want you so bad, Ashley," I whisper, my lips brushing her skin. "You have no idea what you do to me."

She does. I can see it in her eyes.

I unclasp her bra, kissing her slowly, reverently. My mouth finds her breast, my hand softly cupping the other. She moans, arching toward me, her fingers dragging through my hair.

With growing confidence, she reaches for my belt, unbuckling it, her hands bold but shaking slightly. She slides her hand inside, teasing me through the fabric. I nearly lose it.

"Yeah, baby. Just like that."

I close my eyes, trying to keep control. She's undoing me with a single touch.

But when she slips her hand beneath the fabric and touches me fully, I growl deep in my throat. My head falls forward.

"Ash... give me a second," I breathe, pulling away just enough to strip down. I don't want to come undone too soon. I want to savour this. I want to make her feel everything she's been missing.

Now completely bare, I return to her, but she's covered herself with her arms — suddenly unsure. My heart breaks a little.

"Don't hide from me," I whisper, moving her hands gently aside. "Let me see you."

She lets me.

I kiss her again, slow and deep. Her hands find their way to my face, then my back, then lower. I slide one hand down her stomach, tracing soft circles. When I reach her center, she gasps, bucking slightly.

"I need to be inside you," I whisper, watching her come apart.

Her eyes flutter shut. "Harry..."

I tug her panties down, dragging them off with deliberate care. She's exquisite. I take my time, touching her gently, exploring every part of her. Her hips roll against my fingers, her moans quiet and raw.

"Look at me," I urge.

She does. I want her to see the effect she has on me — the way she undoes me without even trying.

My lips find hers again. I slide my fingers inside, and she cries out softly, clutching at my shoulders. Her body trembles beneath me, and I press my forehead to hers, whispering her name like a prayer.

She kisses me back hungrily, breath coming in quick pants. Her hands fist in my hair. I feel her all around me — her skin, her scent, her sound.

But then...

I feel it.

A tear on my cheek.

I still instantly.

"Baby?" I whisper, brushing her hair back. "What's wrong?"

Her face crumples. She shakes her head, wiping at her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she breathes. "I can't... I thought I could, but I can't."

She pushes me back gently, pulling the sheets around her.

My heart clenches. I move away, giving her space. I reach for the edge of the bed and sit, catching my breath.

++++

APOV

Of all the things I could've done — run, pull away, tell him no — I did none of those.

"Harry..." I breathed, barely recognizing my own voice, low and certain. "Let's go to yours."

His brows lifted in surprise. "Are you sure?"

I didn't hesitate, though I probably should have. "Yeah. Let's go... before I change my mind."

There was no time for thinking. I leaned in, gripping the front of his shirt, my lips finding his again — hot, hungry, urgent. I hated the car. The leather, the cold metal, the way it divided us. I wanted to feel him without barriers.

His mouth opened under mine, and when our tongues met, something inside me cracked wide open. My hands found their way to his hair, sliding through soft curls, down to his face, to his chest. His heartbeat thumped under my fingers. He was breathing hard — we both were.

I kissed him deeper, dragging him into the moment with me, wanting to drown in it, needing the rush to eclipse everything else. My head screamed stop, but my body — my body had its own language, and tonight, it was fluent in him.

His voice was rough. "Ash... let's go."

Before I could even find my footing, he was out of the car and already by my side. I stepped out just as he reached for me, his hand at my lower back like it belonged there. Then, without warning, he pressed me up against the car and kissed me again — this time deeper, darker, slower. His hand slid up my thigh, and I thought I might come undone right there.

"Harry..." I gasped. "Let's just..."

He didn't need more. We practically stumbled to the lift, hearts pounding, barely registering if anyone saw us.

By the time we reached his suite, I was no longer the cool, collected woman I usually prided myself on being. The logical, responsible, emotionally-armoured Ashley? She'd vanished somewhere between the car and the elevator.

He opened the door and pulled me in, and I followed without thought. His jacket was still on when I started tugging at the buttons on his shirt, my lips brushing his neck. I couldn't stop touching him. I didn't want to.

But then he paused. Gently caught my hands in his.

"Ash... slow down."

I blinked, disoriented, heat flooding my face. "Okay. Sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't be. I just... I want to take my time with you."

I swallowed, suddenly aware of how fast I'd let myself spiral. But there was no shame in his eyes. Just kindness. Warmth.

He peeled off his shirt, and I drank him in. Every line, every shadow. His body was beautiful — not just in the aesthetic sense, but in the way it moved, grounded, relaxed, confident. I wasn't used to this. To someone being... open. Reverent.

He stepped behind me, his fingers trailing lightly over my shoulders. His breath against my ear made my skin break into goosebumps.

Then he moved my hair to one side, and his lips followed — from the curve of my neck to the top of my spine. When his hands reached my zipper, I tensed, just a little. He paused, waiting. Then slid it down, slow and careful.

The dress slipped from my body and pooled at my feet.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his hands skimming along my sides, igniting every nerve ending I'd long since silenced.

My breath was ragged. I was trembling.

"Let go," he whispered, wrapping his arms around me. "I'm here."

I turned my head to look at him, and everything inside me screamed yes.

"Harry... kiss me. Please."

And he did.

He kissed me like I was air and fire and every element in between. His lips, his hands, the way he moved over me — it was all consuming. We fell to the bed, limbs tangled, mouths desperate.

"I want you," he said, voice deep and steady. "You have no idea what you do to me."

He kissed his way down my neck, to the curve of my shoulder, and I arched toward him, seeking more. When he unclasped my bra and his mouth found my breast, I gasped. My body betrayed every truth I'd spent years hiding.

I ran my fingers along the waistband of his pants, fumbling for his belt, unsure but bold with desire. He groaned when I touched him — low, guttural, like it took everything not to lose control.

"Yeah, baby... just like that."

God. That voice. That body. That heat.

I slid my hand beneath the fabric, exploring him, and he stilled, breath ragged.

"Ash... give me a minute," he rasped, pulling back, and I could tell it wasn't rejection. It was restraint. Thoughtfulness.

He stood, stripped the rest of the way, and returned to me — completely bare, no armor, just him.

That's when the doubt slithered back in.

I covered myself, instinctively, palms pressed to my chest like I had something to hide. Old shame. Ghosts I didn't invite but couldn't keep away.

"Don't," he said softly, gently moving my hands. "Let me see you."

I nodded, barely.

He kissed me again, this time slower, more deliberate. One hand ran down my stomach, and when he reached my centre, I flinched — not from fear, but intensity. My head fell back. His lips found mine again, and I was lost.

"I need to be inside you," he whispered, fingers teasing, coaxing. "Can I?"

I couldn't think. Couldn't breathe.

"Harry..."

He rolled my panties down, slow as molasses, and touched me in a way no one had in years. And God... I melted.

His fingers moved with confidence but care, reading every breath, every sound. I clutched at his shoulders, my body shaking, a moan caught in my throat. My skin was on fire. My soul, untethered.

"Look at me," he said, voice low and commanding.

I did. I looked into those jade eyes and saw everything — the want, the heat, the sincerity. And something in me cracked open a little more.

He leaned in, kissed me hard. And then — something shifted.

I felt it before I understood it.

A single tear rolled down my cheek.

Then another.

Harry stopped instantly, withdrawing his hand. His brow furrowed, concern flooding his face.

"Ash... what's wrong, baby?" he asked, brushing my cheek with his thumb.

I shook my head, ashamed and overwhelmed. "I'm sorry... I can't. I thought I could, but..."

He pulled back without resistance, giving me space. Space that I really needed.