Page 76 of Ripple Effect

“Oh, God, El,” I moan, the sound torn from me as I move closer and closer to the edge.

He doesn’t let up, fingers and tongue working in perfect harmony, pushing me higher and higher. He grips my thighs with both hands, spreading me open, and slides his tongue as deep inside of me as he can. I clench around him, unable to stop myself from bucking my hips.

“Yeah, just like that,” he mumbles when he pulls out. “That’s how you fuck my tongue.”

The tension coils tight, ready to snap. With one last push, I shatter, pleasure washing over me in a tidal wave. The world fades away, replaced by the aftershocks and Elio’s soft murmurs against my skin.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasps. “Watch how you come for me.”

As the intensity of the moment wanes, I’m acutely aware of the weight of his body. I want to see him, touch him, explore every inch. My fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to reveal the skin beneath.

As the fabric falls away, I trace the dips and ridges of his muscles, the heat of his skin pouring into me.

My eyes fall on the ink that adorns parts of his arms—a collection of stories in the form of tattoos. I touch each one gently, making a mental note to ask him more about them later. But for now, I want to give back, to show him the same pleasure he’s shown me.

I meet his gaze, thick lashes fluttering as I blink up at him. “El”—my voice is breathy, filled with need—“I want you in my mouth.”

The desire that flashes in his eyes is unmistakable. He swallows hard, throat bobbing. “You sure?” The vulnerability in his voice hits me. This isn’t just about physical need. This is about trust, intimacy.

Nodding, I move lower, trailing kisses along his chest and down his abdomen. He shivers under my touch, a low groan escaping his lips as my fingers find the waistband of his jeans. I make quick work of the button and zipper, pushing them down to reveal the length of him.

“Take my cock out, Daisy,” he tells me, and I do exactly as he says.

His erection stands loud and proud, its velvety skin a deep shade of flushed pink. The head is thick, swollen and glistening with a bead of precum at the very tip. I’ve never really thought much of dicks before, but the sight of his makes my mouth water.

His breath catches as I wrap my fingers around him, stroking gently. He threads his fingers through my hair and guides me even closer. I glance up at him, seeking approval, and the raw need I see there is all the encouragement I could ask for.

My lips wrap around the tip, teasing him with soft flicks of my tongue. His response is immediate, a sharp intake of breath followed by a low growl.

“Fuck, yes,” he breathes out.

Slowly, I take more of him into my mouth, setting a rhythm that has him writhing beneath me. The weight of him, the heat, the subtle taste—it’s all-consuming.

“That’s it, Daze,” he murmurs. “Take all of me just like I know you can.”

He’s lost in the sensation, his hips bucking gently, seeking more. The grip on my hair tightens, guiding me, urging me on. The needy sounds he makes—the tiny whimpers, the heady groans—are a testament to how close he is, and I double my efforts, wanting to see him come undone.

Without warning, he pulls me off him, eyes wild with passion. “I’m close,” he warns. “Where do you want me to come?”

Not breaking eye contact, I take him in again, hollowing my cheeks and increasing the suction. His response is swift and sudden, his body tensing as he reaches his climax. He spills into my mouth just like I wanted, and I take all he offers, unwilling to waste a single drop.

Breathing heavily, he gently pulls me up to meet him. His face is flushed, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. We lie there for a moment, simply staring at each other. And then he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“Hey,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “That was ... perfect. By far the best I’ve ever had.”

“For me, too,” I murmur, leaning in for a tender kiss.

Our lips move slowly, languidly, both of us reveling in the taste of one another. Eventually, we shift apart, breathing a little harder than before. Elio pulls me into his embrace. The warmth of his skin, the steady rise and fall of his chest ... it’s comforting, familiar now.

“It’s supposed to be your first night back at home,” he mumbles into my hair, planting a soft kiss on my forehead.

I nod in agreement, snuggling deeper into his embrace. “I know. And I’ll go home in a bit. But first, promise me something.”

He raises a curious brow. “Anything.”

“Promise me there’s more to come?”

“Yeah, I promise.” He smiles, eyes shining with emotion. “I’m not nearly done making you mine.”

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