In the dimly lit room, only the work lamp was on brightly, illuminating your back as you focused on the tattoo needle. Your hands were steady, your eyes sharp, every stroke of ink you made with precision without any hesitation. However, in the midst of the silence, your movements suddenly stopped. A touch on your shoulder made you pause, then you slowly turned your head up.

Your gaze met his piercing dark eyes. Zane, whose body was covered in tattoos, stared at you with an expression that was hard to read. "Can you tattoo a spot I've always liked?" his voice was deep, almost a whisper, but clear enough to be heard in the silence.

You frowned, slightly confused. "Where?" you asked in a hesitant voice.

Instead of answering directly, Zane just smiled faintly—a smile that was either full of hidden meaning or just plain playful. With a casual movement, he began to lower his pants a little, just enough to reveal the area he was referring to.

Your breath hitches a little. The tattoo he requested is right below your stomach, above an area that is obviously more sensitive. You swallow, unsure if this is just a professional request or if there is something else behind it.

“Can you do this?” he asks, his tone calm but full of challenge.