Page 75 of Ripple Effect

“You know, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, drinking me in.

I pause, taking a deep breath before meeting his gaze head-on. For a moment, the weight of our shared anticipation fills the room. Elio has always been the one in the spotlight, constantly on display, every move a sensual dance for an eager audience.

But now, it’s my turn.

It’s a thrilling and daunting idea. The thought of him watching, of him wanting, fuels a kind of courage I didn’t know I possessed.

With my eyes fixed on his, I take a deep, steadying breath and sit up slowly. My fingers move to the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head with deliberate care. The cool air of the room makes my skin prickle, but it’s Elio’s unwavering gaze that sends shivers down my spine.

Reaching back, I unclasp my bra and let it fall away. His sharp intake of breath isn’t the only sign that he’s affected. It’s his eyes, darker and hungrier, that tell a different story.

My fingers slide down to the button of my jeans, the zipper’s sound loud in the thick silence. Shifting, I slide the denim down my legs, leaving me in just my panties. Elio’s gaze is burning, but there’s a restraint there, a quiet respect as he allows me to dictate the pace.

Taking one last deep breath, I hook my fingers into the sides of my underwear, slowly pulling them down. As I bare myself completely to him, I’m met with a reverence in his eyes that makes everything else fade away.

“Flawless,” he whispers, voice raspy and filled with awe. If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume he’s never seen a woman naked before.

His focus on me feels like a physical touch, electric and tingling, heating my skin and pooling warmth deep inside me. Slowly, I let my fingers wander, exploring, teasing, taking my time as he watches with rapt attention.

His eyes follow every movement, darkening shades further as my fingers trace a path down my abdomen, skimming the sensitive skin there. Hesitantly, I let my fingertips dance over the most intimate part of me, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through my body.

Elio’s grip tightens on the arms of the chair, his knuckles white from the strain. As I continue my slow exploration, pressing and circling my clit, a low whimper escapes from the depths of his throat.

The sound sends a rush of excitement through me, spurring me on.

My pace gradually increases, the rhythm of my fingers and my breathing syncing. At the same time, Elio’s jaw tightens, eyes flashing with barely restrained lust. His chest rises and falls with rapid breaths, mirroring my own.

There’s something incredibly erotic about being watched this intimately, especially by someone who looks at you with such a raw, undeniable hunger.

His voice, thick with desire, breaks the silence. “You have no idea how much I want to touch you right now.”

My eyes flutter closed as my fingers continue their dance, drawing out the pleasure. “Then come here,” I challenge breathlessly, granting him the permission he so clearly craves.

He’s off the chair in an instant, joining me on the bed. I welcome him with open arms, and his fingers quickly work to replace mine, thick and insistent.

“We’re gonna learn together, aren’t we?” he groans, an index finger filling me, pumping against my walls. “What we both like, what we want?”

“Mhm.”

I gasp as he adjusts the angle, pressing into that spot that makes my vision blur. His free hand cradles the back of my head, pulling me into another searing kiss. I can feel every ounce of his want, his need, in the way his lips move against mine.

Drawing back, Elio moves his lips to my ear, whispering, “Can I taste you?” His voice is ragged, filled with anticipation.

“Please.”

With infinite patience, he kisses a path down my body, pausing to nip and tease at my sensitive skin. When his mouth finally reaches my core, the anticipation has me trembling. His tongue moves in languid strokes, finally tasting me.

He starts with the delicate crease where my thigh meets my body, lapping at the sensitive skin there. His tongue trails a wet path up and down, teasingly close to where I crave his touch the most.

Spurred on by the sounds of my moans, it doesn’t take long for him to shift his focus directly to my center.

He starts on the outside, circling my entrance with the tip of his tongue. Each swipe is frustratingly slow, building the anticipation until I’m writhing beneath him. He moves upward, parting my folds with expert precision, lavishing his attention on my swollen clit.

As his tongue flicks over it, my hips buck off the bed, desperate for more pressure, more contact.

His hands grip my hips, holding me in place as he continues his assault, alternating between long, slow licks and quick, tantalizing flicks. Every stroke of his tongue brings me closer to the edge, and the sound of his deep, appreciative groans only intensifies the sensations.

I gasp, clutching at the sheets, as he delves deeper. The flickering movements of his tongue have me writhing on the mattress. My mind goes blank, thoughts consumed by the sheer ecstasy of his touch.

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