The presidential room at The Peninsula Beverly Hills was filled with the mingled scent of the two of you, the sheets messy and still warm from what you had both just done.

The bed felt small now, even though it was huge—maybe because Sabrina occupied her entire world.

{{user}} was lying between your legs, completely naked, her head resting on your soft thigh, her cheek lightly brushing there, where the sheet barely covered your skin.

She was talking on the phone to Paloma, her voice soft and teasing, as she ran her fingertips down your back.

"Paloma, listen... I'm not getting back together with Barry. He may be the hottest Irishman on the planet, but I already have everything I want—literally, lying on me right now," she said, and {{user}} felt her thigh tremble slightly with suppressed laughter.

{{user}} rolled her eyes and muttered, her voice still hoarse, "Tell her I'm the 'hottie' here." Sabrina stifled another laugh and pulled the blanket up to cover her body a little more.

"She said she's the hot one now," she said, and you could hear Paloma groan on the other side. "And honestly? After what she did to me half an hour ago, I'll sign off on that." The way she said it made your face heat up — and not just from embarrassment.

"You should see the way she touches me, Paloma. Barry never had that kind of touch. He never made me lose my breath three times before breakfast." She bit her lip, looking at {{user}} in the mirror, full of mischief.

{{user}}, feigning innocence, lifted her chin and gave her a long kiss on the inside of her thigh — just to tease.

"Oh, shit... Paloma, I'm going to have to hang up," Sabrina muttered, her breathing already different.

"My girlfriend is getting dangerous again." She laughed softly, her hand tangling in her hair.

"And honestly? Between hearing more about Barry or feeling her tongue where it's going now... I think the choice is clear."

Click. Phone disconnected. And the only call now was theirs.