::Ace's POV::

His touch is cold, but sets my entire body on fire. My hands runs over his smooth skin that seems to have no imperfections. His grip on my waist tights as I grind against him on his couch. All I came here for was for some extra help on the assignment, not for a heavy make out session with the devil.

My fingers run through his sink like hair, my tongue dancing with his that's far more skilled. He takes me by surprise, flipping me onto my back and hovering over me, one leg between my legs while others on the floor. He's so damn intoxicating, literally; his lips taste like the whiskey he was drinking when I got here.

"You're so warm," he says. I must feel like I have a deadly fever to him, when he feels like he's going to die of hypothermia. I tilt my head back as he works his way down my body, nipping and sucking at my exposed flesh. It feels provocative, to be almost fully undress while he's in a suit; makes me feel like a hooker he's bought and I have no problem with it.

I shoot up in bed, taking a deep breath. The last two nights my thoughts have consisted of him and almost only him. The way his touch was so cold, the way his lips felt on mine. Last night my mom mentioned she was going out with him and I almost wanted to beg her not to because I couldn't help the jealousy stirring up inside me.

"Why are you awake?" A stuffy voice says from the opposite side of the room. I reach over and turn my lamp on, looking over at a tear stained Alex. Her eyes are red and puffy as well as her lips being swollen.

"Bad dream." Great dream. "Why are you crying?" She turns her light on, making it brighter. The sight of her black eyes and bruised arm makes me gasp.

"He hit you didn't he?" She nods, choking back a sob. I fucking told you so. Ugh, first inappropriate dreams, now sinful language. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," she says. "I'm fine with him. I-I didn't know he was capable of such a thing. I'm so sorry I didn't believe you," she says, tears streaming down her face. She chokes in her own breathe, squeezing her eyes shut.

"It's okay," I say. I'm only saying that for her benefit; that's not something I can forgive easily and I'm a very forgiving person. But she's my best friend and she needs me right now. "What happened?"

She goes in telling me about them laying down and her trying to ask him why he's been asking suss, but it only got him mad and he lost it. I feel so bad that she thinks this can actually be the end. I thoughtI could get away after the first time but he would get me back into his trap.

"You need sleep," I tell her. She nods, getting under her thick covers and turning her light off. I stay up far after she falls asleep thinking about that damn dream that should have never came to me. Does he even think of the way I think of him? He's starting to possess my thoughts, taking away my sleep. Hopefully I'm the cause of his nightmares if he's gonna be causing me to not sleep.

••••••

For the first time I wish we didn't sit so close to the front of the room, where I can literally see and focus on whatever I want. Usually I hardly look towards the board, I just look down and take notes, but not today. Today I can't help myself from focusing on everything about Mr.Hellfire-Lucifer. It feels weird to call him that still.

Thankfully my mind has moved from kissing him and how it felt to how fucking weird this man is. He didn't seem shocked at all when we kissed, it was like he was expecting it or was just used to women randomly making out with him; I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. He was ice cold. He talks about the devil in first person, and teaches religion of all things. He dates my mom of all people. And hates on me for no reason.

Oh! And calls me Angel. I have never in my life met a more complex, confusing, weird, and handsome man. I'm definitely not blinded to his looks. Just the way the way he looks pacing around the front of the class with one hand tucked into his expensive dress pants has an effect on me. An effect that has be squirming in my seat... One I wish I didn't have, especially caused by him.

"On your way out, please put your paper on faith on my desk," he calls out. Everyone stands, putting their things back in their bags. I wish Alex were here, that way she could turn it in for me and I could make a run for it. But she look a "sick" day because of what happened.

It's horrible of me to almost he thankful it happened, but part of me is. Another person knows how horrible he is. She finally believes me after so long of trying to convince her of the truth. I want her to be happy and never be pained by who she is with, but rather this happen now than years from now.

"Ace," he says when I start coming down these damned stairs. Why must they be so small, yet there be so many of them? Do they want a lawsuit for someone breaking their leg? I mean, they're a real hazard for students safety. "Stop ignoring me."

"What?" I ask, trying to play it dumb. Obviously I'm not that concerned about the stairs, although everything I thought was true. Talking to this devilish man will only cause me to think about him more, and that's the complete opposite of what I want.

He crosses his arms across his chest, taking in a sharp breath. Im waiting for him to speak as I set my paper on his desk, but nothing comes. He keeps his head down, taking deep breath. If I knew him better I would think was nervous.

Once everyone is out of the class he turns towards me, letting out a deep breath. "Where was Alex today?" He asks. I shrug, suddenly to nervous to speak. Why does he have to have such an affect on me? "You two are practically inseparable; you have to know."

"I do, she's sick and couldn't come. But I also know that that's not what you want to talk about," I snap, surprising both him and myself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

"Don't apologize; I've been waiting for you to finally get your panties out of a twist," he says, his thick accent laced with amusement. "But yes, that isn't why you're still here." I lean against his desk, crossing my arms while he uncrosses his. My heart is pounding inside my chest while I try my best to look calm and collected. "What was that stunt you pulled the other night?"

I have to look away from him, the images from that night coming back to my mind. Does he know the affect he has over me? "What makes you think I had a reason?" Me dancing around the question isn't helping my situation at all, but I'm not good at this type of thing if that isn't obvious enough.

"Because you don't seem like the type of women to randomly shove their tongue down another mans throat," he explains. Read me like a open book, why don't you? "I'm not complaining; it was nice. But you should know to never give a man blue balls." Blue balls? What the hell is that?

"I-I didn't-" I'm cut off by him taking a large step towards me. I wish so badly that someone would just barge in here and interrupt this conversation. My chest is rising and falling rapidly, my breasts almost pressed against his chest.

"You're so confusing," he says mostly to himself. My brows pull together in question. I've done nothing; if it were up to me we would have never even spoken unless necessary. He's like a bad STD that I can't get rid of. His fingertips press against my bicep, drawing them down slowly as he looks down at me; his gaze intense. I want to run and hide in my dorm under a million blankets.

Is this situation my fault? Or is it his? I'm not trying to blame one of us, I just want to know how this got to this point. He shouldn't be touching my arm the way he is, or looking at me like that, or talking to me about blue balls...whatever that is.

His touch is freezing, just like it was the other night at his club. A shiver runs down my spine just as goosebumps make their appearance on my exposed skin. My eyes lock with his.

"This shirt is awful," he says, stepping even close while I take one back, the small of my back hitting his desk so I'm trapped between him and the wooden surface. He keeps me pinned close to him. I gasp as his thumb brushes across my lips.

He doesn't give me a chance to reply to his rude comment before he presses his freezing lips against mine. Has my mom ever realized how cold he is? Of course she has and why am I thinking of my mom and him. The thought of them just angers me. My fingers find their way into his hair, tugging at the ends. How could I possibly be so jealous of my mother?!?

He lifts me up, playing me on top of his paper covered desks. A few of the newly turned in assignments fall to the floor, but he doesn't seem to care. He rests his large hands on my thighs, making my breasts get caught in my throat. His tongue brushes against mine. I find myself pressing myself harder against him.

This is wrong. He can't just be rude one second then kiss me; and I also shouldn't let him. That's not even one of the main reasons. My mom is in a relationship with him and seems to genuinely like him; yet he's cheating on her with me. The more I think of them together the harder I kiss him back.

The sound of something heavy falling to the ground makes me pull back. He takes a deep breath, examining me while I look down at whatever fell.

"I-I have to go," I say, forcing myself off the desk and away from him, grabbing my bag that fell.

"I'll see you Sunday morning," he says. I stop in my tracks. "Your mother didn't tell you? She invited me with you guys to church."

"Church? With you?" I ask in shock. "Your name is literally Lucifer and talk about yourself as if you're the devil." He chuckles, biting his bottom lip. Dear God.

"Why not? There's nothing more I would rather do than listen to someone speak of my father as if he knows him better than me." What the actual fuck.

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