The Cinderella Fantasy (Playing the Princess 1)

“Use your hands,” she begged, her tone low and urgent. But if ever there was a time to plead with a man like Jared Mitchell this was the moment. She could feel the orgasm building up. Her hips rocked up and back, trying to place his tongue exactly where she wanted it.

“Easy now,” he murmured. She could feel the words against the exact place she wanted his hands. “I’m going to take my time.” But he heeded her request and slipped one finger inside her.

She thrust against his hand and waited for his tongue.

“Oh, God,” she gasped.

“Hold on, Lucy.”

He drew his mouth away, and she wanted to scream. How could he? She was on the verge of exploding.

“Jared!”

He lowered his mouth and sent her screaming into the glowing, pink, perfect land of orgasms. She’d been there before. She’d ridden him to a wave-crashing climax on the beach. But this—the way his tongue cast a spell, the way he listened when she begged for his touch—this was one of the best.

But after you’ve had the best . . .

She shoved the thought aside and pushed herself up on her elbows. Jared pressed lazy kisses to the inside of her right thigh. He looked up at her without taking his mouth off her skin. Slowly, he raised his lips until they hovered over her leg. “I’m not done yet.”

“Selfish bastard,” she said.

“I’m just getting started—”

A shrill, sharp ring cut him off.

“No, no no,” she murmured. “Don’t tell me that’s Finn calling.”

“It’s not,” he assured her. She felt the words between her legs. The rush of air teased her as if he were literally breathing hope into her chances of an orgasm.

“It’s Tico Software. One of my companies,” he explained.

“On a Friday night?” Her body throbbed, begging for his attention, and utterly unconcerned with phones calls and interruptions.

Now who’s the selfish one?

“I should have turned it to silent.” He lowered his mouth to her and gave her sensitive skin a smooth lick.

“That’s okay,” she muttered. “Just. Don’t. Stop.”

The ringing ended, and Lucy closed her eyes. Her world narrowed to his mouth, his lips, and his touch.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

“Do they always call until you answer?” she asked.

“I don’t usually ignore Tico,” he murmured. “They’ll stop eventually. Or I could switch the phone off—”

“No!” Her hands reached for his head, and her fingers wound through his hair. “Keep going. I’ll ignore it. We’ll ignore it.”

“As you wish, princess.”

His mouth went back to work. A second later the ringing stopped. But the reprieve was brief—very, very brief. Three unanswered calls later, she came. And her cries matched the pitch of his cell phone.

So this is sex with a workaholic.

She struggled to catch her breath but kept her gaze focused on the ceiling. She could hear him moving around the room. His footfalls on the plush carpet. The rustle of pants as he withdrew his phone. His soft curse.

“I need to make a quick call,” he said. “Stay right there. I won’t be long.”