At the hotel, Phoebe pulled the items out of her bag and took her eyes over the designer clothes. The more she tossed the idea she had around in her head, the more she wanted to put it in place. But Quentin had plans of his own, and right now he was out trying to make sure whatever it was, was perfect. But as the naughty thought continued to swirl, Phoebe trudged over to the phone and dialed the front desk.

“Shangri-La Hotel, how can I help you?”

“Yes, ma’am, this is Phoebe Alexandria, I’m in the penthouse suite and need a few men to come help me move around some furniture. Nothing major, I assure you.”

“Oh, yes, Ms. Rose, I’ll send someone up right away.”

“Thank you.”

Phoebe dropped the phone on its base and strolled to the patio doors. When she opened them, a gust of wind flew inside, and from where she stood, the Eiffel Tower sat with blinking lights as it prepared for what she was sure would be a magnificent light display.

Back across the room, Phoebe took her clothes to the bathroom and pulled out everything she would need for tonight’s performance. When a knock came at the door, she smiled and left the lavatory to let in her handy men.

“Good evening,” she said.

“Good evening to you, madam. We we’re told you needed some help rearranging furniture?”

“Yes, if you’ll follow me.”

The two men entered the room dressed down in the hotel’s signature uniform.

“I’d like this moved to the terrace and the table on the terrace moved here.”

The men quickly worked, moving around Phoebe swiftly as she stood back with a demure smile on her face. It had taken them all of fifteen minutes to get both pieces of furniture moved along with a few other items she’d asked them to exchange. When they were done, Phoebe pulled out two one hundred-dollar bills and handed one to each of them.

“Thank you very kindly,” she said.

“You’re most welcome, mademoiselle,” they both chimed.

Phoebe followed them to the door and did a little jig once she’d closed it. Back in the sanctuary of the bathroom, Phoebe took a shower, making sure to lather herself extra careful so the scent of her peach body wash stuck to her skin.

“Mmm, this smells so good,” she said, standing under the shower for a rinse.

Excitement bubbled through her bones, and she strutted to the sink and picked up her phone. It was 11 p.m., and time had certainly been moving. A text message icon sat at the top of her screen from Quentin. She opened it and read.

I misjudged the time this would take. Forgive me, I’ll be there in a blink.

That was five minutes ago, and Phoebe wasn’t ready. Shit. “Okay, girl, get it together,” she said, taking her eye over her image in the mirror.

As quickly as possible, Phoebe moved, applying a peach nectar to her skin for a brilliant shine. She slipped into her garments and re-brushed her teeth. She had been supremely careful with the shower, making sure not to get her hair wet. Deodorant, body spray, diamond earrings that hung from her lobes with a sparkle teased from underneath her straight shoulder length hair. Phoebe marched away from the sink to stand in front of a full-length mirror to check out her attire. She turned from side to side, then analyzed her derriere to make sure she was popping where she needed to be.

“Yesss, girl work,” she said, satisfied with her appearance.

The front door opened, and Quentin shuffled in but paused when he noticed the furniture repositioned.

“Phoebe?” he called, traipsing around the room to check out what else had been changed. “Phoebe,” his deep voice thundered.

The bathroom door opened, and Phoebe strutted out. She crossed the bedroom and casually strolled into the seating area were Quentin stood.

Quentin’s gaze left the rearranged furniture to glance over at Phoebe as she entered with a question on his tongue. “Sweetheart, what happened with the—”

His sentence died on his tongue as he swept his gaze over Phoebe’s bold attire, if you could call it that. Quentin started at her feet, immediately turned on by the six-inch spiked heels that covered her pedicured toes. Her cocoa brown legs looked like they were made of silk as the shine on them glistened, casting a golden-brown glow over the curves of them. It carried on to her curvaceous thighs and the apex of her center was covered in a see-through laced thong. Quentin’s nostrils flared as his midnight eyes sailed up her bare belly and the soft ripples in her midriff spoke to the training she’d kept up on her body.

Immediately, his blood boiled, and heat ballooned straight to his manhood. The coat he wore suddenly felt like he stood inside an oven as Quentin continued to drink up her erotic pose. Phoebe’s breasts sat full in a sheer lace shelf bra that exposed the cleavage around her breasts right down to the outer lining of her brown nipples. Thin straps covered her shoulders and the golden glow of her skin shone right up through her neck and face.

“I was hoping the plans you’ve made won’t be totally ruined if I changed them just a bit,” she purred.

Quentin whispered a curse, and Phoebe turned to the side and arched her back. Her hair bounced and teased her shoulders as she moved, and when she turned to glance back over them, Quentin had abandoned his spot and stalked across the room to stand beside her. Pivoting swiftly on her heels, Phoebe reached to unbutton his coat when Quentin sank his mouth into hers.

“Mmmm,” she moaned, peeling his coat of his shoulders to get closer to his chocolate skin.

His hands reached to grip a handful of her ass, and she yelped in his mouth. A devilish smile spread across his handsome face, and a wildlife mating call trekked from his throat. The sound was so wildly untamed that it knocked through Phoebe’s being and tightened her areolas. The grasp Quentin held her with brought Phoebe slightly off her feet and her crotch slid against ridges of his protruding shaft.

“Oooh my…” Phoebe said.

“Mmhmm,” he growled. “You think you want the beast in me, but you’re not ready…” his thick voice grooved.

The insinuation aroused Phoebe even further but also gave her a defiant stance as she felt challenged to take on whatever he dished out. She twirled in his arms and bounced her bottom on his pants before strolling across the room with hips bucking as she sashayed.

“You know what I think, Mr. Davidson,” her throaty voice crooned. Quentin matched her steps with no intent of letting Phoebe out of his sight. “I think,” she opened up the patio doors and stepped into the cool night air, twisting back to smirk at him. “That it’s fifteen minutes until midnight, and I want you to give me everything you think I can’t handle on this lounge.” With her back to him, Phoebe pulled her hands to the straps of her thong and slipped the panties over her hips. Putting on her best performance, she bent over, making sure Quentin received and eyeful of her peach while she pulled the sheer material down her legs. The lingerie hit her ankles, and she stepped out of them and swept them to the side.

Quentin had come out of all his clothes. The cool winter air all but forgotten as he watched Phoebe’s little sexy ass bend over the chaise lounge. The furniture was created with an arch, effectively lifting her bottom in the air while her legs lay leisurely down its curve.

Phoebe tossed her head back to look at him only to find him at the same time she felt him. “Oooooh!” she screeched as he spread her ass and sank his thick penis inside her vagina. “Jesus!” she hollered.

Quentin leaned over her shoulder and delved his lips into her shoulder blade.

“What was that you were saying about taking everything I wanted to give you?” he growled. Quentin’s hands trailed down her back, causing a path of chills to follow his direction to her buttocks. A direct slap with the palm of his hand caused Phoebe to yelp again and simultaneously he gripped her waist with a fierce clutch as he shoved albeit slowly deeper into her cavern.

Phoebe’s head fell back and a moan, long and sensual, curdled from her lips.

“Ooooooooh!” she hissed and sucked in a lungful of air as the ridges of his shaft dug so deep she could feel her gates instantly open. Her legs began to tremble, and the motion made Quentin abruptly pulled out. She hissed again, and he placed hot kisses down the back of her ear and neck. His hands skated up her belly, and his fingers tweaked her nipples.

“You can’t come,” he said, “until the clock strikes twelve.”

Phoebe whimpered and reached back for him, desperate to be connected again. Quentin slapped her derriere, and her soft bottom bounced off his palm.

“Sexy ass,” he said, seizing her waist to impale her once again with a long grinding stroke.

“Aaaah!” Phoebe shouted, and her hand clutched the furniture.

Quentin sank inside her wet cove, coating his shaft with her mounting crème. “Shiiit!” he cursed, slipping out, then in, then out again.

Phoebe mumbled as her walls continued to expand to accommodate his size. She shivered and writhed with pleasure as her body torched with each pump he took inside of her. With her buttocks tooted, Quentin made sure to go easy on Phoebe, but the wetness of her fountain and hotness of her core tasseled his nerves and sent him into overdrive. Without even trying, his hand slipped to her neck and clawed around her throat, sealing a minor chokehold on her esophagus. With expert precision, Quentin drove into her core and smacked her ass with his other hand. Phoebe scrambled to get away from him, but he held firm, driving inside her with deep, powerful plunges. The force of their sex was so solid and firm that she bounced off his dick hard and a wounded cry tore from her throat with each volatile thrust.

He released her neck, slipping his hand down her waist and she inhaled just as soon as he impaled her again. Phoebe’s breath caught in her throat as Quentin plundered her, tearing into her bottom with disastrous strokes. Digging, grinding, and thrusting. Finally, Phoebe found her voice long enough to bellow out a scream and brace herself for his next temerarious plunge.

“Fuck!” he shouted, and the furniture rocked and tilted off its legs to topple over. Phoebe shouted with pleasure and fear as their bodies smacked from their incessant sex and simultaneously moved toward the terrace ground. But all too swiftly, Quentin shifted, lifting Phoebe but remaining joined as the lounge collapsed on its side.

“Aaaaah!” Phoebe shouted, and Quentin held her waist. When Phoebe reached out for the edge of chaise, she gave Quentin a wide opening, and he took advantage, plundering into her pussy with the speed of a jackhammer. Phoebe arched her back and sang out loud with a combination of shouts, curses, and praises. Tears stung her eyes at the force of his attack, and it was so fearfully beautiful that her entire body shuddered and rocked, vibrating with the strength of a natural disaster.

Suddenly, nearby voices shouted out, and bells and whistles could be heard as the countdown to the new year had begun. Quentin’s hand slipped around Phoebe’s elongated neck, effectively pulling her to a partial stand as he continued to pump inside her heated core. His lips grazed her ear, and the heat from his mouth simmered down her flesh.

“Five… Four… Three… Two…” he breathed, and Phoebe came with a stringent wave that knocked her off balance and caused her to breakdown. She yelled, screamed even like a stricken animal left for dead. Quentin held on to her as they watched the Eiffel Tower light up in an array of colors signifying the new year.

Phoebe’s orgasm seeped down her legs, and Quentin whispered in her ear. “Happy New Year… my lady love.” With another driving force, he plunged, and she screamed, helpless to the unmerciful plummeting of his thrusts. With a swear driven oath, Quentin came inside Phoebe mixing their orgasms together in a rain shower of love.

Out of breath and unable to move, Phoebe hung limberly with Quentin holding her against him, their bodies scorched, and their nerves off the meter. For a second, Phoebe’s vision blurred before it came back into focus, and it was then that her thighs shook with spasms. Quentin leaned over her shoulder and swallowed her mouth while further stretching his member inside her. A startling gasp yelped from Phoebe, and Quentin swallowed the outcry with his tongue.

“You’re okay,” he said, sucking on her flimsy tongue as their breaths mixed together. “I’ve got you.”

Phoebe’s body continued to soar, and she knew right then that to experience a release of that magnitude had to be unprecedented. Sure, she didn’t have much experience, but it was uncanny to believe that what she’d shared with Quentin was second best. A silly thought crossed her mind, and she giggled just a bit feeling crazy and all out of sorts.

“What was that thought you just had there?” he asked.

Phoebe glanced back just as Quentin wrapped her up in his arms, severing the connection they held.

“Ah…” Phoebe moaned. An undulation of heat fell down her skin, and Quentin walked purposefully off the terrace with Phoebe in his arms to the bedroom. He laid Phoebe on her back and stared into her sultry eyes, and she smiled with a tipping curve of her lips. “I was just thinking,” she said dreamily, “there’s no wonder you can’t shake these women off of you. Why would you expect one to go away after loving them down like that?”

Quentin tilted his head to the side with a smirk. “Who says I’ve loved anyone down like that? I may not have been a virgin, but perhaps I was saving all my pent-up energy for you.”

Phoebe peered at him with a smirk of her own. “You really expect me to believe that?”

Confusion was cast over Quentin’s handsome features. “So you think I would tell the truth about some things and lie about others?”

Phoebe pursed her lips. “Of course not, I’m just saying. That sounds…”

“What?”

“Like something you would say just to be nice.”

Quentin frowned again. “But you know me. I’m not that guy.”

Phoebe slipped her hands up the side of his face and gripped his ears. Pulling him down, Quentin’s dreads tingled her shoulders as she puckered and exhaled when his lips sank into hers. Kissing Quentin was so fulfilling, and being with him completed her to a point where she desired to be with him forever.

It was amazing how they both held or save certain pleasures for the other, in case a time like this would actually occur. Quentin slipped his arms around her, and together they flipped over while at the same time, he entered her vagina with a grinding drive.

“Aaah ssss!” Phoebe sang as she straddled his powerful thighs, bracing her hands on the firmness of his ripped chest. “Aaah!” She moved up and down, grinding and rotating her hips, and her head fell back. Biting down on her lips, Phoebe moaned harshly, but it was caught in her throat.

With his hands digging into her waist, Quentin directed her, bucking his hips to make for a powerful connection. Phoebe opened her mouth wide and held her head back when a singing cry escaped her lips.

“Quentin…” she hissed as her vagina met the base of his shaft in shocking stabs of heat. “Fuck me, baby!” she squealed as he thrust to meet her peril pitfalls.

The effusion of heat that circled them raged like never before, and another cry fled from Phoebe as she came harder the second time around.

“Oh my God!” she squealed and bit down on her lip as an ocean of crème covered his chocolate shaft.

“I fucking love you, girl,” Quentin growled, reaching up to grip her neck and bring her down to him for a tongue-plunging kiss.

Tears stung Phoebe’s eyes once again. If she was on the edge before, his confession pushed her over, and now she had completely fallen in love with him. Her heart warmed, and her body shivered, and Quentin pumped into her refuge while they slopped each other down.

“Fuuu-ck!” he growled, tearing his mouth away to release the vicious swear. Quentin came inside her again, holding her tightly against his body as they showered each other with another breath-stealing release.

“Quentin! Quentin! Quentin…” Phoebe purred as she dropped onto him. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, and starlight twinkles were exposed in her eyesight. Phoebe’s breathing was ragged, and she couldn’t seem to gain control of it.

For another long moment, Phoebe laid there splayed on top of Quentin. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I can’t move.”

Gruffly, he chuckled, and his hands skittered down her back, making her tremble more.

“That was incredible.” Phoebe’s fingers slipped up his rock-hard chest, and she lay her palm against his heart. Quietly, she listened to the rhythm and made a mental note to remember it. “I love you, too, Quentin,” she said. Her nose moved around his neck in circles as she breathed in his scent.

Quentin kissed her forehead, and together, they fell asleep, still connected, and completely sated.