Sinfully Yours (Hellions of High Street 2)

…and set on his shoulders.

A jolt of heat speared through the layers of wool and linen.

“Is there nothing I can say or do to convince you to tell me what you are up to?” she asked in a soft murmur.

Devlin blinked, trying to control the sudden hot and cold surges thrumming through his body. His brain was barking orders, but his body wasn’t listening.

Anna slid her hands up and down the slope of his shoulders, her slim fingers tangling in his hair as she drew her touch up to the knot of his cravat.

His throat went slightly dry.

“It will be our little secret,” she whispered.

Bloody Hell. Where had she learned to play the sultry siren-seductress? This was a side of Miss Anna Sloane that she had never, ever displayed in London.

“N-no,” he said, not budging an inch. Manly pride demanded that he stand firm.

“Not even if I do this?” Her lips touched his skin as she gave a little nibble to the tip of his chin.

Every particle of his flesh now felt afire. “I—I will consider the request.”

“And what if I do this?”

Ye gods, perhaps Miss Anna Sloane wasn’t quite the innocent virgin that she appeared to be.

The thought ignited another burst of sparks in his belly. His whole body was now vibrating with lust. With longing.

Angry at himself for the momentary weakness, Devlin snapped out a brusque warning. “You are now not only playing with fire, but thrusting yourself into the roaring flames.”

“Mmmm.” Her tongue flicked over his lower lip as she pressed her body up against him. “You do feel a trifle warm.”

Satan save me.

All he had to do was press his palms to her

slender shoulders and put some distance between them. A simple move. One he had done often enough, for his cardinal rule was to keep any woman from getting too close. And yet his fingers curled instead around her arms and slid down the soft sleeves of her gown to capture her wrists.

“Miss Sloane…” He hesitated, surprised at how unsteady his voice sounded. Then, reminding himself that he was a ruthless rake, Devlin sucked in a harsh breath. “Warm is rather an understatement. You are dancing dangerously close to the razor-thin line of No Return.” Forcing himself to loosen his grip, he gave her a final warning. “Flee now, else I can’t be responsible for what happens next.”

A lady should be a little dangerous.

That she could arouse such a look of molten desire in a rake’s eyes emboldened Anna to arch into a more intimate embrace. “I spend more time than you might think trying to imagine what it’s like to be daring and dangerous.”

“Your imagination,” rasped Devlin, “is far too active.”

Anna knew that she should pull back. Every shred of sanity was echoing the Devil’s warning. Flee now—fly away, as fast as you can.

Otherwise there was no going back.

A part of her knew this was madness…

A part of me doesn’t care.

Anna lifted her gaze to lock with his. “I’m not sure whether it’s active enough.” Summoning her courage, she rubbed herself back and forth against the ridge of his arousal.

The reaction was immediate. Devlin’s body tensed, and his breathing turned a little ragged.

A tingling took hold of her palms. There was something elementally exciting about having the power to make a jaded blade like the marquess lose control.