Page 35 of Fighting Conviction
Jezebel performed a split on the pole while also somehow shaking her ass to the music. He would’ve been impressed, if his mind wasn’t on someone else entirely. Instead of the raven-haired temptress on chrome in front of him, his thoughts were still on the blonde, wingless angel he’d left in a broken heap the week before.
Devil closed his eyes against the bright lights and was thankful the music covered up his sigh. He’d let himself get carried away. Lost control. Ellie had been so tempting he’d given in to his desire to finally taste her. Getting so caught up he didn’t even realize he was hurting her was a clear sign it could never happen again.
Loss of control was completely new to him. Since he was seventeen, Devil had worked to perfect his discipline and it’d always served him well. He’d devoted his life to his country, and after Draco recruited him, his team with MF7. His carefully chosen professions thrived on his ability to compartmentalize and disengage.
Knowing that about himself, he should’ve never agreed to train Ellie. It was fucking with his system. She made him feel, and feelings were distractions. Distractions were fucking dangerous.
Devil wasn’t concerned about himself, but it wasn’t the first time his losing focus and lack of control ultimately hurt someone he cared for. He’d be damned if he let his weaknesses affect Ellie.
The week before was the perfect example. He’d gotten lost in the feel of her tight, round ass against his cock and the promise of finally being with her, and he hadn’t realized she was having a panic attack until she was already hyperventilating. Ellie hadn’t had one of those in a long ass time, and that one had been his fault and he fucking knew it.
Since then, Devil had come up with a plan for how to prevent another mistake from happening. The team was focused on crashing the secret elite Ashland County scholarship function so he’d dive his focus headfirst into that. He’d keep training Ellie on a strictly professional basis. Not working with her simply wasn’t an option. Jaybird had been right that Devil was the best, and he didn’t trust anyone else for the job at this point, either.
Meanwhile, Devil would make sure he worked out with one of the other agents to get the sense beaten back into him and he’d go to Jezebel every time he needed to release the control valve on the need consuming him.
Every time he saw Ellie, his need flooded through him. If the other day at the shooting range was any indication, the dam holding back his control was on the verge of breaking. He was terrified of the devastation his emotions would leave in their wake.
Devil sipped his whiskey before he pulled out his switchblade and flicked it open. The music was so loud and Original Sin was so crowded no one paid attention to the guy with the knife, a thought which was in no way comforting except for the fact he’d be left alone. His fingertips ran down the smooth flat blade while his thumb glided below the sharp edge. Freedom from his guilt was just a cut away, attempting to seduce him. But he didn’t deserve the absolution.
“Hey stranger. It’s been some time since you came ‘round.” Jezebel’s husky whisper heated his ear and his grip on the knife slipped, biting into him enough to break the skin. His breath released in a hiss and Jezebel smoothed her hands down his chest from behind him pulling his head against her large breasts, thinly veiled by black lace.
As he shoved his knife back into his pocket, he realized he had no recollection of her finishing her set. He looked to his right to find Phoenix and Charity were gone, too. Goddamnit, even thinking aboutnotthinking about Ellie made him fucking careless. Pathetic.
“I’ve been busy,” Devil growled out. Jezebel’s tongue swirled around the shell of his ear as she threaded her hands through his hair.
“Shame.” She tightened her grip, tugging and causing a burn in his scalp. He had to hand it to her, she knew exactly what he liked. “I’m never too busy for what you can do to me.”
He tried to lose himself in Jezebel’s touch, but when he closed his eyes, images played unbidden across his mind, Ellie’s smirk after she shot a bullseye for the first time. Ellie laughing even after she was knocked on her ass, smiling every time he teased her, or blushing when he flirted with her. Ellie trying to hide her soft gasp when his hard cock pressed against the curve of her ass.
Devil re-situated himself in the chair. His cock had twitched to life, but not for the woman pressed up against his back.
“Come on, Devil, baby. You know you want me.”
The husky whisper in his ear was all wrong. The arousal that’d spiked for Ellie, flattened for Jezebel. He blinked his eyes closed for a moment and willed his cock back to at least half-mast, to get what he came for. But it was no use. It wouldn’t work unless Ellie was in the picture. The idea to use her to get off with another woman flashed through his mind only to have his stomach twist in rebellion at the thought.
Devil slid his hands over Jezebel’s and extricated himself. “This isn’t a good idea.”
Jezebel laughed over the beating bass and circled around his chair, her hand never leaving his body until she stopped to straddle his lap. Devil jerked his hands back and away from touching her, but Jezebel used the opportunity to shove her hands underneath his shirt. Her claws scratched at his chest and Devil tried to give himself over to the sting of pleasure and ignore the utter insanity telling him he was hurting Ellie by being at Original Sin at all.
Black wings enveloped him, blocking out the strobe lights and muffling the music to a thick thumping his pulse’s cadence increased to match. Breasts pushed up against his chest and dark curls, thick with hairspray, crunched against the side of his face. Closing his eyes, he willed the whiskey to give him enough buzz to let loose. Gripping the shapely thighs on either side of him, he worked his way up to her hips and tried not to think about the lithe body he’d held on to the week before.
“I love the way you hold me down, Devil. Don’t you want that?” Jezebel breathed hot air against his neck. “I know I do. You, fucking your Sinner from behind, like the devil you are.” She pulled one of his hands from her hips and threaded it behind her neck. “You rip my hair in your hands, and I come on the spot.”
Jezebel was right. She knew exactly what he wanted and he knew she could handle it. Hell, Devil had never had a relationship, but Jezebel was probably the closest he’d ever come. The first time he’d choked her, she’d let him until she’d nearly passed out. She would’ve, too, if he hadn’t lost his shit and dropped her like a rucksack with a target on it. It’d been the first time he’d ever given into his urges during sex and it’d freaked him the fuck out. But when she’d rubbed her neck, smiled, and insisted he do it again, he thought he’d hit the jackpot of sexual partners. Since then, he’d fucked her too many times to count.
There was no way in hell Ellie could take that kind of abuse and he wasn’t sure he could control himself to protect her fromhim. Ellie had been traumatized by evil men enough. She didn’t need him to victimize her, too. Pain, inflicting, receiving. Fuck, she was too damn innocent for him. She was only eighteen to his twenty-seven for Christ’s sake. She wasn’t ready for what he needed to get off. Rough, unemotional sex was the only way he ever grew hard.
His eyes closed at the last thought. Because that wasn’t true, was it? All Ellie had to do was fucking exist, and even in a sweaty sports bra and loose shorts, he was hard as steel at one touch.
Fingers entwined in the strands, Devil imagined it was Ellie’s soft blonde hair tangled in his grip instead. He grew harder and lifted his hips up into the heat above him, groaning when he made contact.
Jezebel’s knowing chuckle dimmed the haze. “There you are. I was beginning to worry I’d lost my touch.”
Her voice was all wrong and Ellie faded from his imagination. If Jezebel kept talking, he’d never get it up. As it was, his dick was only hardening when it had other things to think about.
The deep charcoal orbs in front of him were empty black holes compared to the rich caramel he craved. Jezebel rested heavily on his softening cock and moved around with a slight frown, before forcing a smile. Every inch of her golden skin was covered in glitter that stuck to his hands as he tried to pull away. Devil squirmed into the plush pleather chair, not ready for her assault. The urge to push her off when she dove in to whisper against his lips was overwhelming.
“Want me to get us a confessional, baby? You know I have a few tricks to make sure you’re ready for me. I’ll get a room with the ropes.”
