The kitchen is warm, but not as warm as your gaze on me. Wearing only my tiny, loose shorts, I stir the pan slowly, knowing you watch every move. I reach out, offering a spoonful, but before I can taste it, your fingers slide around my waist. “Lunch can wait,” you murmur against my skin. I smile, teasing, “But I want you to taste… every part. 🥙🤤