Annabelle Flynn is the sister of London’s two biggest libertines, and her reaction has been to become the picture of purity. But the sensual nature of her family has not been lost on her and she is troubled by urges she dare not follow. She ignores the demands of her body and instead throws herself into two different activities. One is pursuing a proper marriage in Society and the other is trying to save her broken brother by following him into the shocking Donville Masquerade, part of a hell run by the mysterious Marcus Rivers.
By day, Annabelle pursues ladylike endeavors and seeks a staid husband to combat the wild reputations of her brothers. By night, she inserts herself into Marcus’s business… and eventually she finds herself seduced into his bed. But can a not-quite-proper lady and an entirely unsuitable cad find anything in common outside of the bedroom? And will Annabelle be willing to trade passion for cold, calculated ‘perfection’?
He said nothing more, but merely grasped her, pulled her out of the chair and into his arms. She couldn’t help herself but surrender. It felt like forever since he’d touched her, despite the fact it had only been a few days. She melted against him. His fingers tangled in her hair, tilting her face up and up, but he didn’t kiss her. He just looked at her.
“Do you know how many women I’ve had, Annabelle?”
She flinched. She didn’t really want to consider that. “Is that an appropriate question to ask your lover?”
He smiled, but it was only a flicker of his earlier grin. “Not at all. There had been many. Not here—they are right that you are the first woman I have ever brought to my private rooms, to my business. But I have not been a monk outside of these walls. And yet, despite my experience, when I’m with you…”
He trailed off, and she tensed. “What?”
“It is like the first time I’ve ever seen a woman. Like nothing else ever mattered before.”
She blinked. That was not what she’d expected him to say. And yet, trapped as she was, she couldn’t turn away from the intimate admission. She could only look into his eyes and see that he meant every word. But that couldn’t really be true. Those things he said were too precious and too close to feelings she would not, could not allow herself to feel.
“Marcus,” she whispered, shaking her head.
The light in his eyes faded at her indication of the negative, but he didn’t pull away. Instead he moved closer, and suddenly his mouth was on hers, hard and insistent. His hand slid down her back, caressing her spine before he cupped her backside and lifted her against him, grinding the hard ridge of his cock against her thigh.
She shivered at the feel, knowing he was ready and randy for her. She couldn’t deny she was the same for him. The moment he had entered the room almost an hour ago, her body had grown wet and she hadn’t stopped tingling. And now he would touch her and he would make those desires fade, at least for a short while.