The kitchen of the mansion was a warm, inviting space, its sleek marble counters gleaming under the soft glow of pendant lights. The faint strains of pop music drifted in from the main hall, mingling with the sizzle of a pan and the rich aroma of garlic and herbs filling the air.

Elizabeth stood at the stove, wearing a sleek, black apron that hugged her curves, the thin straps doing little to cover her bare thighs or the deep cleavage revealed by her low-cut silk gown beneath. Her dark hair was loosely tied back, a few strands falling over her shoulder as she stirred a simmering pot, her movements confident and practiced.

I leaned against the wall, my arms folded across my chest, watching her with a mix of admiration and curiosity, my body still buzzing from our earlier encounter.

"Come here, Ezra," Elizabeth called casually, her voice light as she lifted a wooden spoon from the pot, a small dollop of creamy sauce glistening on it. "Taste this and tell me how it is."

I pushed off the wall, a grin tugging at my lips.

"Sure thing," I said, crossing the kitchen to stand beside her. She held the spoon to my mouth, her eyes sparkling with a playful glint.

I took a taste, the sauce rich and savory, bursting with flavor.

"Umm… it's tasty. Really good," I said, nodding as I savored it, my eyebrows lifting in genuine surprise.

She laughed softly, her smile warm and a little smug as she turned back to the pot, stirring again.

"Hehe, glad you liked it," she said, her voice carrying a hint of pride as she adjusted the flame under the pan.

I leaned against the counter beside her, crossing my arms again. "Damn, you're a good cook too," I said, my tone teasing but impressed. "Didn't expect that from you."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, glancing at me with mock offense. "Oh? And why's that? You thought I can't cook?" she asked, her lips twitching into a smirk as she tossed a pinch of herbs into the pot.

I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck, my smile turning a little sheepish.

"Nah, I just mean… you've got maids for everything, right? I figured you'd never need to lift a finger in the kitchen." My voice was light, but I winced inwardly, hoping I hadn't overstepped.

"Ouch," she said, clutching her chest dramatically, though her eyes danced with amusement. "I'm hurt, Ezra." She pouted for a moment before breaking into a grin, stirring the pot with a flourish.

"Sorry, sorry!" I said quickly, holding up my hands in surrender, my laugh mixing with hers. "I didn't mean it like that."

She shook her head, still smiling as she turned down the heat, the sauce bubbling gently.

"You're not wrong, though," she admitted, her voice softening. "I do have people for most things now. But back when I was a kid, my mom taught me how to cook. Said it was important to know, even if I didn't have to do it every day."

"Oh?" I said, my curiosity piqued as I leaned closer, watching her work. "Your mom sounds like she had some wisdom to share."

Elizabeth nodded, her expression turning wistful as she stirred the pot, the steam rising in soft curls.

"She said when I got married, I'd need to cook for my husband. That it's a woman's job to take care of her man, just like it's a man's job to provide for her." She glanced at me, winking playfully, though there was a hint of nostalgia in her eyes. "Old-fashioned, maybe, but she meant well."

I smiled, resting my chin on my hand as I watched her. "Sounds like a good mom," I said, my voice warm. "She taught you well."

"Truly," Elizabeth said, her voice soft as she stirred, her gaze distant for a moment. "She was the best."

Elizabeth glanced at me, her spoon pausing as she spoke, her voice tinged with a quiet frustration.

"But then I married the president, and I got everything all at once—money, status, this house. But he's never home. I'm just… plain bored with life at this point." Her eyes softened, a hint of vulnerability creeping into her expression as she stirred the pot again, the steam curling upward.

I tilted my head, stepping closer to the counter, my arms still crossed.

"That sounds rough," I said, my voice gentle but curious. "All this luxury, and you're still stuck feeling like that?"

She nodded, a small, wistful smile playing on her lips as she glanced at me from under her hair, one eye peeking out with a teasing glint.

"Wish I had a good husband… maybe someone like you," she said, her voice low and playful. "Someone who'd watch me when I'm cooking, keep me company."

My eyebrows shot up, a grin spreading across my face.

"Oh, is that so?" I asked, my tone matching her playfulness as I pushed off the wall and stepped behind her, closing the distance between us.

My groin brushed against her ass, the contact sending a spark through me as I stood close, the warmth of her body radiating through the thin fabric of her gown.

"Ahm… yeah…" Elizabeth said, her voice catching as she pushed her ass back against me, a subtle but deliberate move that made my pulse quicken.

Her head tilted slightly, her eyes fluttering as she kept stirring the pot, though her focus seemed to waver.

My hands slid to her stomach, fingers splaying over the soft silk of her apron as I leaned in, my lips brushing the curve of her neck in a slow, deliberate kiss. Her skin was warm, her scent a mix of perfume and the herbs she was cooking with, intoxicating me further.

"Ahem," she said, her voice a mix of mock protest and amusement, her eyes closing as she leaned into my touch. "What are you doing, Ezra? Let me cook first…"

I chuckled, my lips grazing her neck again as my hands tightened on her waist.

"The food's cooking on its own on low heat," I murmured, my voice low and teasing. "And I think… we can turn up our own heat right here." My cock hardened, pressing against her ass through my pants, the friction sending a jolt of heat through me as I rubbed against her ass slowly.

Elizabeth glanced back, her lips curving into a pout that was more playful than angry.

"You're impossible to argue with," she said, her voice husky, a spark of defiance in her eyes as she arched her back, pressing herself harder against me.

"Hehe," I grinned, leaning in to kiss her, my lips capturing hers in a slow, hungry kiss.

My hands slid down to her ass, gripping her firmly as we ground against each other, her curves molding to me, her ass rubbing against my hardening cock.

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