CHAPTER 196: ELIZABETH’S BEDROOM I

I was sinking into the plush couch, my heart doing a weird dance as Mrs. Elizabeth sat close, her hand resting on mine. Her touch was warm, her fingers soft but sure, and her dark eyes locked onto me like I was the only thing in the room. The grand hall around us was all polished marble and sparkling chandeliers, but she was the real show—bold, confident, and way too hot for me to think straight. Her cream-colored silk gown hugged her curves, and the way her damp hair fell over her shoulders made my throat tight.

I cleared my throat, trying to keep my cool.

"So, uh, what’s the plan? You needed me for something, right?" I asked, my voice coming out steadier than I felt.

She tilted her head, a slow smile spreading across her lips.

"Yeah," she said, her voice low and smooth, like she was sharing a secret. "Come to my room. We should talk somewhere more private." She stood, the silk of her gown catching the light as it moved with her.

"Alright," I said, standing up, my legs feeling a little shaky. I wasn’t sure what I was walking into, but there was no backing out now.

We headed toward the spiral staircase at the far end of the hall, her heels clicking softly on the marble floor. I stayed a couple of steps behind, trying not to stare at the way her gown swayed with each step.

A few maids passed us on the stairs, their white-and-black aprons crisp and neat. They nodded politely at Elizabeth, but when their eyes flicked to me, they smiled—small, knowing smiles—and whispered to each other as they moved on. I caught a hint of their giggles, something about me.

At the top of the stairs, Elizabeth led me down a wide hallway lined with more old paintings and fancy sconces. She stopped at a heavy wooden door and glanced back at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Here," she said, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

I followed, and the moment I crossed the threshold, I froze.

"Whoa..." I breathed, my jaw dropping. The room was massive, bathed in soft morning light streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. The marble floor gleamed like a mirror, reflecting the glow of a crystal chandelier overhead. A huge curved couch sat against one wall, facing a sleek bar counter stocked with bottles and glasses that looked like they cost more than my rent. A four-poster bed with silky white linens dominated the far end, and a massive painting of a stormy ocean hung above it, adding a touch of drama to the space.

Elizabeth turned to me, one finger resting lightly on her lips as she smiled. "Hehe, you like it?" she asked, her voice teasing.

"Like it? It’s... damn, it’s beautiful," I said, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. "And, uh, pretty spacious. You could fit my whole apartment in here."

She laughed, a warm, throaty sound that made my stomach flip.

"Aw, thanks, Ezra," she said, grinning as she crossed to the bar counter. Her gown shifted with each step, the sheer fabric catching the light and hinting at the lacy outline of her panties underneath. I felt my face flush and quickly looked away, focusing hard on a random vase in the corner like it was the most interesting thing I’d ever seen.

"You want a drink?" she asked, already pouring amber liquid into two crystal glasses. The bottles clinked softly, and the sound felt oddly intimate in the quiet room.

"Yeah, sure," I said, keeping my voice casual as I dropped onto the curved couch. It was just as cushy as the one downstairs, and I sank into it, trying to act like I belonged in a place this fancy.

I glanced at her as she worked at the counter, her back to me. The way the gown clung to her ass curves, the way it showed just enough of her panties and legs drive me crazy—it was too much.

Elizabeth handed me a crystal glass filled with amber liquid, her fingers brushing mine as she passed it over.

"Here, drink," she said, her voice low and warm, like she was sharing a secret. She sat even closer now, her leg pressing against mine, the heat of her skin seeping through my jeans.

"Thanks," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I tipped the glass back and downed the whole thing in one go, the liquor burning a smooth trail down my throat. It was strong, with a sweet aftertaste that lingered. I set the empty glass on my knee, feeling the buzz hit me fast.

Elizabeth sipped hers, then tilted her head back and drained the glass in one smooth motion. She let out a soft, "Mmm," and licked her lips, her eyes catching mine.

"Ahh, that felt refreshing," I said, grinning despite myself, the warmth of the drink loosening me up a little.

"I know, right?" she said, stretching her arms above her head, the silk gown pulling tight across her chest.

The neckline dipped low, showing off her bigger part of cleavage and the lacy bra that made my mouth go dry. She leaned back, her dark, damp hair falling over one shoulder, and gave me a look that felt like it could see straight through me. "Nothing like a good drink to start the day."

I nodded, my fingers tapping the empty glass. "So, Mrs. Elizabeth," I said, clearing my throat, "why’d you call me here? What’s this all about?"

Her lips curved into a smirk, and she shifted closer, so close I could feel her breath on my cheek.

"I bet you already know," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Her hand reached out, fingers tracing the hem of my white t-shirt, then slipping underneath to brush against my abs. Her touch was light but deliberate, sending a jolt through me. I swallowed hard, my eyes flicking to her cleavage, the way her gown hugged her body, every curve screaming trouble.

"I, uh..." I stammered, my brain scrambling. "I’m not allowed to take clients outside of the brothe—"

But Elizabeth didn’t flinch. Instead, she closed the distance between us, her hands grabbing the collar of my shirt as her lips crashed into mine.

The kiss was fierce, her mouth moving against mine with a hunger that caught me off guard. Her eyes stayed open, locked on mine, dark and intense, like she was daring me to pull away. I couldn’t. Her hand slid down, grazing my abs again, then lower, rubbing my dick over my jeans. I felt my cock harden under her touch, my pulse racing, my face flushing hot.

My mind flashed to Aeri—her face, her voice, the way she’d rejected me after all my begging. The memory stung, sharp and raw, but Elizabeth’s kiss was drowning it out, pulling me under. Her hands were everywhere, tugging at my shirt, body pressing against me, and I lost it.

I leaned back, letting her push me down onto the couch, her body following mine. She kept kissing me, her lips relentless and I couldn’t think straight anymore.