Cara blushes deeper and averts his gaze, fidgeting with the hem of his skirt. He lets out a short, nervous laugh. "W-what are you talking about? Fate didn't 'give' us anything."

He tries to sound dismissive, but there's a hint of curiosity in his voice. He peeks at you from under his lashes, gauging your reaction. "Besides, you know I'm not really... into that kind of stuff."

Cara stiffens at your touch and steps back, eyes wide. His breath hitches, and he swallows hard. He seems torn between indignation and intrigue.

"Hey! Don't touch me like that!" He protests, but there's no real bite behind his words. He chews on his lower lip, considering your question.

"I... I've never really thought about it, okay? This whole thing is just for the play. It doesn't mean anything." He crosses his arms defensively, but can't hide the slight quiver in his voice.

Cara shivers at your touch, and his face flushes an even deeper shade of red. He tries to pull away, but finds himself rooted to the spot, eyes locked with yours.

"I-It's not like that... I'm not... I'm not feeling anything," he stammers unconvincingly, avoiding your gaze. He takes a shaky breath and straightens his back, trying to regain some composure.

"You're just imagining things. And besides, we shouldn't... we can't..." His voice trails off, and he looks at you helplessly, clearly struggling with his own desires.

Cara's breath catches in his throat, and he leans into your touch ever so slightly before catching himself. His heart races, and he can feel the heat spreading across his skin.

"I-I don't know if I can... It's not right," he whispers, even as his body betrays his words, arching towards you. He bites his lip, torn between propriety and desire.

"P-please, we shouldn't... We're friends, and this is all just so..." He shakes his head, trying to clear it, but the sensations coursing through him are overwhelming. "I don't know what to do."

A soft gasp escapes Cara's lips as your breath tickles his ear. His eyes flutter closed, and he tilts his head slightly, exposing more of his neck to you. He's clearly struggling to maintain his composure.

"I... I feel something," he admits quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. His hands clench into fists at his sides, as if holding himself back. "But it's confusing... I've never felt like this before."

He takes a shaky breath and opens his eyes, looking at you with a mixture of apprehension and longing. "Are you sure about this? I don't want to regret anything."

Cara's breath hitches, and he lets out a soft moan as your lips graze his neck. His eyes flutter closed again, and he leans into your touch, his resolve crumbling.

"Oh god," he breathes, his voice trembling with desire and uncertainty. He swallows hard and opens his eyes, looking at you with a mix of apprehension and longing.

"I... I want to... But I'm scared," he admits, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He takes a deep breath and nods, giving in to his feelings. "Okay... Let's do this. Let's feel."

He reaches out tentatively and places his hands on your waist, his touch hesitant but eager. "Show me what to do."

Cara gasps as you pull him close, his body molding against yours. He can feel the heat radiating off you, and it makes his head spin. He clutches at your shirt, his knuckles turning white from the intensity of it all.

"Oh god, you're so warm," he breathes, nuzzling into your neck. He inhales deeply, taking in your scent, and it makes him feel dizzy with want.

"I... I don't know what to do," he confesses, his voice muffled against your skin. He presses closer, feeling your heartbeat against his chest. "Tell me what to do, please."

Cara shivers as your hands roam over his back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He arches into your touch, a soft moan escaping his lips.

"I... I think so," he murmurs, his voice tinged with uncertainty and desire. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what's to come. "But go slow, okay? This is all new to me."

He tilts his head back, exposing his neck further. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and his cheeks are flushed with arousal. "Kiss me," he whispers, a plea and a command all in one. "Make me feel good."

Cara's eyes widen as your lips meet his, a jolt of electricity coursing through him at the contact. He kisses you back tentatively at first, then with growing passion, his hands fisting in your shirt.

"Oh god," he gasps as you pull away, his chest heaving. He looks at you with hazy, desire-filled eyes. "That was... that was amazing."

He bites his lip, considering your question. Slowly, he reaches up and places his hand on your chest, feeling the steady thrum of your heartbeat. "I... I want to touch you," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "Can I? Please?"

He looks up at you with wide, innocent eyes, waiting for your permission.

Cara's eyes widen as you expose your chest to him, and he licks his lips unconsciously. He reaches out tentatively, his fingertips brushing against your skin.

"It's so warm," he whispers, his voice filled with wonder. He traces patterns on your chest, exploring the planes of your muscles, his touch growing bolder with each passing moment.

"I never thought it would feel like this," he admits, looking up at you with a mixture of awe and desire. His fingers dance over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "You feel so good."

Cara's eyes flick down to where you nod, and he swallows hard. He looks back up at you, his cheeks flushed with arousal and a hint of nervousness.

"I... I don't know if I should," he murmurs, his fingers stilling on your chest. "I've never done anything like this before."

But despite his words, his hand drifts lower, tracing along the waistband of your pants. He bites his lip, looking up at you for guidance. "Show me what to do," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "Please."

Cara takes a shaky breath, feeling emboldened by your guidance. He follows your hands, feeling the growing hardness beneath your pants. His heart races, but he presses on, driven by curiosity and desire.

"It feels so... big," he whispers, his voice filled with wonder and a hint of apprehension. "Am I doing it right?"

He looks up at you, seeking approval and reassurance. His touch grows firmer, more confident, as he explores the length of you through the fabric. "Tell me what you like," he pleads softly. "I want to make you feel good too."