Turn up the heat! #WipItUp

Happy hump day! Third round edits of my latest book are in full flow, so I should have this one off to the publisher before Christmas (fingers and toes crossed!)
Here’s a little snippet for those who like their reading hot…
I’ll be on the look out for ARC readers soon, so if you’re interested, sign up to my fan page now!

***

She bites down on her lip as her eyes scan over my large frame. “I don’t want to be on my own,” she coos. “In the storm, I mean?”
I smile, gazing down at her, and for a moment we say nothing, permitting each other’s eyes to devour the other. Hell, I bet she’s imagining what I’ll feel like inside of her already…
“You don’t have to be alone,” I begin, raising my hand slowly to stroke the soft strands of fair hair from her face. I pause, absorbing its rich honey tones, and wondering at how beautiful she is.
“What will you do to me?” she asks, her eyes loaded with sin, as though she is at this moment considering all of the debauch options.
“What would you like me to do?” I reply, deliberately throwing her one of my most devastating glances.
Her lips part at my question, and I swear I can hear the pounding of her heart. “I don’t think I’ve ever been with someone so…” she pauses, eyeing me up and down again before she continues. “Big before?”
This time I have no choice, and I laugh gently at the thought. “Do you think you can handle me?” I say, deliberately wishing to provoke her.
Her right eye brow raises for the briefest second, and I know she has taken my bait. “Of course, I can handle you,” she says flatly.
“So then,” I answer her with a chuckle. “You have nothing to be worried about.”
“Hmmm,” she replies, “not unless you…” Her voice dries mid-sentence, and something about the resonance makes my cock throb painfully at my waistband.
“Not unless, what?” I murmur, pressing myself against her sweet body.
An unconscious groan leaves her lips as she feels, apparently for the first time, just how keen I am to keep her company on this stormy night. “Logan,” she breathes, her gaze coming to rest upon my own once again.
“Not unless, what?” I repeat, allowing my exasperation to show just a little in my voice.
She stills, acknowledging the tone. “Not unless you spank me again,” she whispers, her dilating pupils evident even in this light.
What an intriguing young thing you are, I think as I watch her. The one thing that you protested so vehemently, now appears to be the one thing on your mind…
“If you behave, then you won’t need to be spanked again,” I say, maintaining eye contact with her as I speak.
Her cheeks flush, although I can’t tell if that’s with arousal or an evocative blend of her excitement laced with the obvious fear she feels. She swallows, evidently trying to play it cool. “But what if I *want* to be spanked again?”