His hand gradually moved down to my waist as he gazed at me with intense focus. Suddenly, he paused, and frustration bubbled within me. He continued to fixate on me, and it dawned on me that he had asked what I desired. I responded, "Touch me." He furrowed his brow and inquired, "Where?" I wondered what kind of game he was playing.
Despite the uncertainty, I found myself intrigued. "My breasts," I whispered, and he nodded, his hand swiftly finding its way to my chest. A soft moan escaped my lips as he began to explore, but it wasn't enough. I craved more—his hands should be removing my clothes and taking control. "That's not how I want it," I protested.
"Then tell me how you want it, Lucia. You only mentioned touching your breasts," he teased. "Not like this, and you know exactly what I
