The Beautiful Ones (Arabesque)

by Byrd, Adrianne

Yet fear had a way of wheedling itself into any situation. She worried whether her experienced best friend would be turned off by her skills—or lack thereof—in the bedroom. At first, she tried to push the thought aside, but the question kept resurfacing.

  She tore her lips away, much to the relief of her oxygen-deprived lungs, and sucked in a long, shaky breath.

  “Is something wrong?” Solomon panted.

  “Maybe we should talk.”

  He slumped forward with unmistakable disappointment.

  “Please,” she added. “Just for a minute.”

  He closed his eyes, nodded, and drew in a deep breath before he pushed himself off of her.

  Instantly, her body cried out in protest at the absence of his body heat. She took it as a signal to make her speech short and sweet.

  “I’m nervous, I’m new at this, and I hope you won’t be disappointed.” There, she’d said it. She reached for him again and pulled him back.

  “That’s it?” he asked.

  She heard the laughter in his voice and she smiled. “Not unless you have something else you want to add.”

  “Hell, no.” Solomon peeled off his dark turtleneck with a quick whoosh before he reclaimed his position above her.

  Catching only a glimpse of his bare, smooth chest was enough to accelerate Ophelia’s wild heartbeat, but the joy of feeling it beneath her hands was immeasurable. While she absorbed everything he was willing to give, she playfully and tenderly slid her fingers over every inch of his chest and back. The many corded muscles that flexed and tightened intrigued her.

  When she finished the exploration, her fingers lowered to the waist of his pants. Caught up in what she was feeling, she didn’t think to be surprised by her bold moves.

  Solomon pulled away, and she was left to stare at him in bewilderment.

  “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

  Stuck between embarrassment and flattery, she chuckled. “Am I doing something you like?”

  “You’re doing everything I like.” He smiled and gave her a wink. “But maybe we should do this the right way.” He stood up.

  Ophelia frowned. “Are we doing something wrong?” She watched him cross the room to her old stereo in the corner.

  “No. I just think we should make the night as special as we can.” Once he selected and inserted a CD, the smooth, hot tunes from Jodeci filled the room.

  She didn’t know what to say, but she appreciated him caring so much.

  He approached the couch again and held out his hand. “Maybe we should start off with a little dancing.”

  She glanced up at him. He had a wonderful smile. She thought about that while sliding her hand into his. Ophelia stood and glided easily into his arms, where once again his bare chest brushed against the thin, lacy material of her teddy and his ever-present hard erection pressed against other parts. Weak-kneed by just the thoughts of things to come, she didn’t know how she managed to sway in time with the music.

  “Strawberries and champagne?” Solomon asked.

  “And whipped cream,” she added, and then blanched in embarrassment.

  Solomon chuckled. “No, let’s not forget that.”

  Certain that her face was turning every shade of red, Ophelia buried her head against his chest, but soon found that she loved the sound of his steady heartbeat. By the second track of the CD, she was completely relaxed and at ease. She didn’t give it a thought when he tilted up her chin and once again swept her mind away with another kiss.

  Time stood still, the earth moved, her stomach filled with thousands of butterflies—every flowery prose she’d ever read in a romance novel was actually happening to her, and she couldn’t be more pleased.

  Solomon gently slid off her silk robe and then took his time lowering the spaghetti straps from her shoulders. His dear best friend had no idea how long he’d dreamed of this night, and he was going to make sure they savored every moment.

  He pulled her teddy down until it reached her waist and then gently cupped her full breasts. He devoured her soft gasp and absolutely fell in love with the feel of her hard nipples in the palm of his hand. He played with them until they grew even harder.

  He needed a bed. He had no intention of taking her right there on the floor or even on the small contraption she and her roommate called a couch. With his mind made up, he broke their kiss, swept her half-nude body up into his arms, and carried her toward her bedroom.

  However, when he pushed open the door, he was surprised to find more candlelight, chilled champagne, strawberries…and whipped cream awaited him.

  “I see you put some thought into this.”

  Ophelia giggled. “A little.” She smiled up at his handsome face, pleased that everything was going so well.

  His gaze darkened with desire, and it literally stole her breath. In the next moment, she was being lowered onto the bed. She forgot her breasts were still exposed, but when Solomon’s gaze deserted hers, she was suddenly embarrassed and crossed her arms to cover herself.

  His smile warmed. “Don’t do that. You’re beautiful.” Gently, he pulled her hands away.

  Laying still, she watched as he reached for her, even quivered when his finger brushed against her hard nipples. An ache seemed to resonate from her very soul while she waited for more.

  It wasn’t a long wait.

  Solomon leaned down and kissed her, a deep, devouring kiss that left them both breathless. During that time he also managed to slide the lacy lingerie from her body and reveal a small nest of curls between her legs.

  No doubt about it: Ophelia Missler was all grown up.

  “What about you?” she asked softly. “Can I see you?”

  He shot to his feet and reached to unbutton his pants when she stopped him.

  “Can I do it?” Her hands replaced his and, although shaky, unbuttoned his pants.

  He watched and waited. The pants fell off easily enough, but the hesitation came once she reached the boxers.

  “Hey.” Solomon brushed her hands away. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He said the words and meant them, but predicted years of therapy if she did change her mind.

  “No. I want to do this,” she said in an adorable pout, while her hands returned to his boxers and slid them off.

  Ophelia’s eyes widened and twinkled in the candlelight. “You’re beautiful, too,” she whispered.

  They reached for each other in the same moment. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he eased her gently onto her back. Their lips locked, their hands explored, and the room was filled with sighs and moans.

  The heat of his arousal, pressed so intimately against her, overwhelmed and thrilled her. Through it all, he remained surprisingly gentle. Yes, she’d made the right choice.

  Her wild response to him was overwhelming, and all plans of patience and restraint were quickly being tossed out the window. Finally, he dragged his mouth away to delve and taste the fragrant valley between her breasts. However, it wasn’t long before he drew a hard tan nipple into his mouth. As a mere mortal, this was his first taste of heaven, and as long as this night never ended, he couldn’t care less if he never returned to earth.

  Solomon reveled in the feel of her soft breasts rubbing against his face. While he took his time switching from one taut bud to the other, his hand stroked a path downward. Gently, he caressed her inner thighs, occasionally brushing the downy V between her legs.

  Ophelia moaned at the sweet torture and even tried to thrust her hips toward his roaming hand. However, each time his strong fingers drew near, they ignored her open invitation and nearly made her mad with longing.

  “Sol?” she panted.

  “Hmm?” He continued his slow suckling.

  “Please—I can’t take much more…”

  On cue, Solomon dipped two fingers into her warm, slick passage.

  She almost came off the bed as tremors of raw pleasure rocketed throughout her body. Thinking was impossible, breathing was nearly so, b
ut ecstasy consumed her. The smooth, long strokes of his fingers were like nothing she had ever experienced, and something she didn’t want to end.

  Ophelia’s mouth moved, but she was clueless as to what she was saying. Her hips picked up the pace, matching his hand stroke for stroke.

  Solomon’s desire to taste all of her overpowered him, and his mouth soon followed the trail his hand had taken. He rained small kisses down the valley between her breasts, the flat plane of her stomach, and then finally the lips of her femininity.

  “Sol…”

  His mouth covered the very heat of her, and his tongue delivered pleasure so intense tears instantly sprang to her eyes. She lowered her hands to caress the sides of his face while she continued to rotate her hips at the same languid pace as his divine tongue.

  Something wonderful was building inside of her—a bliss so sweet her entire body tensed in preparation. But as this burgeoning feeling drew closer, she suddenly was trying to back away.

  Solomon would have none of that. His hands locked onto her hips, holding her in place.

  Her caresses stopped, and she tried to push him away. Frantic, she glanced down at him, but their gazes locked, and then she could do little more than watch his mouth’s loving worship.

  Her voice raced up the musical scale, and when her first orgasm hit, they discovered that she was indeed a soprano.

  Satisfied with her reaction, Solomon crawled up the bed to lie beside her, his hands stroking her body. “Since I wasn’t planning anything like this tonight, I don’t have a condom on me. You didn’t happen to remember—”

  “Oh.” She sat up in bed. “I bought a box. They’re in the bathroom.” Ophelia went to get up, but Solomon restrained her.

  “I’ll get them,” he said, brushed a kiss against her temple, rushed out of the room, and bounded across the hall to the bathroom. He found the box of Trojans rather easily, and out of consideration took a few minutes to wash his face and swish a Dixie cup of Listerine. After that, he headed back toward Ophelia’s bedroom.

  A startled gasp caught his attention, and he was stunned when he turned toward Ophelia’s roommate, Kailua.

  Her eyes traveled down the length of him and froze at the sight of his erection.

  “Sorry,” he said with a smile and strolled back to Ophelia’s room. Closing the door, he emitted a small chuckle.

  “What’s so funny?” Ophelia asked.

  Solomon eased back onto the bed. “I think I just surprised your roommate.”

  “She’s home?” Ophelia sat up. “She’s not supposed to be back until tomorrow.” Ophelia hopped off the bed.

  Solomon, frightened their time together was over, quickly reached for her. “Wait. Where are you going?”

  “To see what she’s doing here.”

  “Does it matter?” he asked, pressing her back down onto the bed. “She has her own room. I’m just getting started with you,” he said, and sealed his lips against hers in another tantalizing kiss.

  She relaxed and eased back onto the bed—ready for round two.

  Chapter 16

  Ophelia wanted to learn everything Solomon could teach. Yet, she didn’t quite understand how he was able to send her from one heavenly plateau to another. First it was his kisses, his hands, and then his talented tongue. And now with his heavy sex pressed against the apex of her womanhood, she was positively quaking for what would come next.

  She heard the small rip of the condom packet and watched him through the mesh of her lowered lashes as he sheathed his hard member with the lubricated latex. This was actually going to happen, she realized. It was her last chance to back out.

  She almost laughed at the thought. There was no way in the world she was going to back out of this now. She had waited too long and come too far.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  Solomon’s passion-filled baritone forced her gaze to leap up and meet his boldly. “Shut up and kiss me,” she ordered with a lazy smile.

  He did just that. He liked her boldness and even liked the little moans she made, too, when he drew her closer. Gently, he separated her thighs with one of his own, and then braced his weight on his elbows so that his body covered hers.

  Solomon worried about the initial pain she would feel, and then worried whether his length and size would be too much for a virgin. But worrying didn’t mean he was backing out.

  There was no way in hell he was doing that.

  However, if he didn’t enter her soon, he was going to go insane. He distracted her with kisses and forced her to hold still by holding the sides of her hips. He hesitated at her soft entry, and then eased in slowly.

  Ophelia gasped; but when he continued to sink deeper, she cried out. “Stop, stop. Wait, wait.” She needed to catch her breath, yet couldn’t.

  “Shh, shh. Don’t move,” Solomon instructed. “Just relax and let your body adjust.”

  Tears leaked from her eyes as she followed his instructions. To her amazement, the pain was already ebbing away.

  Solomon kissed the tracks of her tears. “Tell me again if you truly want me to stop.”

  Her eyes met his, and she was mesmerized by their intensity and felt that, somehow, she was drowning in their depths.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  Slowly, she shook her head.

  “I want to hear you say it,” he whispered.

  “No,” she answered in the same silky tone. “I don’t want you to stop,” she added to make sure that she was clear. When he moved inside her, the pain blended with something sweet—something wonderful.

  Solomon drew a few deep breaths in order to maintain his control. She was so sinfully tight and warm that he feared he would explode prematurely. Soon, soft lyrical moans tumbled from her lips, and still he was able to maintain a sliver of control.

  “Don’t stop, Sol. Don’t ever stop,” she panted.

  During his slow, measured strokes, Solomon buried his face in the crook of her neck and groaned at the exquisite feel of her.

  A mindless Ophelia thrashed restlessly. How delicious it was that he filled her completely, but she no longer wanted this patient gentleness. Her body needed—demanded—more. She dug her nails into his soft skin and locked her legs tightly around his hips, which forced him to sink even deeper. More tears slid from the corners of her eyes as that wondrous feeling from the core of her soul began to spread.

  Solomon’s smooth strokes morphed into deep thrusts. And, Lord, he’d never felt anything this wonderful in all his life. The bed creaked and the headboard banged against the wall. But, frankly, neither cared if the whole damn thing broke, it wasn’t going to stop this groove.

  After a long while, a fine sheen of sweat covered them, and the satin sheet clung to them as well.

  While Solomon’s hips hammered away, he reached in between their joined bodies and rubbed the soft bud between her legs.

  Her thrashes intensified until Ophelia finally surrendered to her second orgasm, which hit her with the force of an atomic blast. She clung to Solomon in fear that she would die from the shockwaves quaking throughout her body.

  However, it was those tiny tremors that finally pitched Solomon over the edge. His guttural moans were not without a level of spirituality. His shudder of release was both violent and sweet. His love deepened for this magnificent woman, and he intended to spend the entire night showing her just how much.

  When the final quiver subsided, Solomon collapsed against Ophelia. Their labored breathing comingled, but when their gazes met again, they fluttered weak smiles at one another.

  Tell her you love her. Solomon drew a deep breath and opened his mouth…

  The bed buckled, and the box spring and mattress—not to mention the newly acquainted lovers—hit the floor.

  Ophelia cried out, glanced back at Solomon, and then erupted with laughter.

  The tender moment had passed him by, but the night was still young.

  Back to the present

  Solomon spl
ashed cold water against his face in a sad attempt to wipe the memory of Ophelia’s twenty-first birthday out of his head. Of course that was probably his problem; he could never forget. Yet, it pissed him off how easily she could.

  He took another splash and had to admit that wasn’t exactly true. From time to time, references to their one night together were usually a tag to some joke or tossaway line that friends did to tease one another.

  With the exception of her roommate, Kailua, no one else knew about that night, including the third musketeer—Marcel.