This week on #SatSpanks, there is an excerpt from my brand new release, Tempted.

This is the first chapter in Dalton’s story, a hot torrid tale of chemistry, lust and secrets. Be sure to #oneclick this book so you can read all the hot steamy action now!

Arousal soared through his body as he lined up the crop for the next strike. Raising the implement, he landed a further two spanks to her reddening cheeks. Dalton’s hunch that Delilah might be receptive to the implement had been proven correct, but in his wildest dreams, he could never have foreseen this. She wasn’t just welcoming, she was wild. In all his years, Dalton had rarely seen a woman so turned on by the crop. Or maybe it wasn’t just the crop? Perhaps his little firecracker liked the pain, or the bondage, or her inability to take control like she usually did? He couldn’t be sure which factor inspired the greatest arousal, and yet the look of her plump, drenched lips told him it didn’t truly matter. Against all odds, Delilah was absolutely revelling in the treatment, and that was what counted.

“Oh, twenty-one and two! Sir.”

Dalton grinned. He hadn’t even had to prompt Delilah to respond this time. “Very good, firecracker,” he purred, swatting the other cheek twice. “You’re doing well at this.”

Delilah groaned, pushing her tempting cunt back as though she was searching for the next strike. “Thank you, sir. That was twenty-three and four.”

His heart raced at Delilah’s wanton display. She had always seemed like a sexual woman, but seeing her this way was sending Dalton into a hedonistic spin of his own. He desired Delilah more than he cared to admit—more than was logical. And as he gazed down at her panting form, the idea of just keeping her for himself seemed all too plausible.

But, Dalton couldn’t do that.

He didn’t just take women—that wasn’t him.

Abduction was so much more Connor’s style, and yet as he struck Delilah’s prone backside once more, nothing had ever seemed so alluring to Dalton before. He could do it. He could just keep her tied up and horny for him. Who cared about Delilah’s true motivations for coming to Diablo that night? Who cared if none of it made sense? And as she numbered the strike for him, he was suddenly overwhelmed with the possibility.

Maybe it was Dalton’s time to live a little?

His turn to do something irrational.

His chance to fall in love.

The notion filled his head, and he smiled as he continued to rain the crop down against Delilah’s breathtaking arse. Her thoughts were quiet now, no longer speaking of the pain, but consumed only with the burgeoning desire coursing through her veins, and Dalton agreed wholeheartedly. He landed strike after strike, pausing only to allow Delilah to name the swat, until, finally, there was only one more remaining.

“How many more, Delle?” There was really no need to demand the answer from her delightful lips, especially as she had only just informed him that the prior strike was number thirty-nine, yet still he asked, unable to contain the craving he felt to hear Delilah’s raspy little tone again.

“One more, sir,” she breathed and glancing over her shoulder at him, Delilah flashed him a wicked smile. “Thank you.”

Their gazes locked for a second before he landed the final strike. Dalton saw the hurt flicker through her eyes, but it was over almost before it started, her thoughts confirming what her body so ably demonstrated. She fucking loved the pain.