God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem - Chapter 478

Chapter 478: I’ll Surpass You Two!
Sigh…Nina already struggles to take normal photos, so how exactly is she going to take ‘suggestive’ ones where a lot more of her flawless, verdant skin is going to be seen? Her hands would probably tremble so much from the embarrassment that all the pictures would end up really blurry.

But her assets are also quite big anyway, so no matter how blurry the picture is, they’ll still be outlined in the picture like a tank hidden in a veil of fog.

It’s just that I have to make her take those provocative photos, which shouldn’t be too hard, seeing as how eager she is to send photos that make me happy now…I just have to build a story that gathers her sentiment to the extent that she herself decides that she wants to send such photos to me, which should be quite easy with how much she trusts me.

While I was thinking about how to save myself from being burnt alive by a Goddess, Nina leaned into me, interrupting my swirling thoughts with a bright smile and a glint of excitement in her eyes.

She then lifted her phone, showing me a picture of a cake—golden, fluffy, and surprisingly well-decorated, with a delicate drizzle of icing on top. It wasn’t perfect by any stretch, but for her, it was a masterpiece.

“Well? What do you think?” She asked, her voice tinged with both pride and a flicker of nervousness.

I took a closer look, raising an eyebrow with genuine surprise as I said,

“Wait…Did you actually make this using the lemon cake recipe I sent you? The one I sent a couple of days ago saying that it would be a good beginner cake?”

She nodded eagerly, her cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink.

“Yup! Followed it step by step this time… didn’t even set anything on fire or call you in a panic halfway through.” She paused, puffing out her abundant chest just a little for not almost burning her house down this time. She then continued saying with a excited look in her emarald eyes, “I think I’m finally getting the hang of this, Kafka. I really do!…It won’t be long before I make so many more dishes and outdo you and Camila!”

I chuckled, a wave of warmth settling over me.

“Wow, look at you! From setting off smoke alarms with scrambled eggs to pulling off this beauty and even challenging professionals in this business like us…I’m impressed, Chef Nina.”

Her face lit up, and she tried to mask her smile with a casual shrug.

“Well, I had a good teacher.” She murmured, clearly fishing for more praise.

“You sure did. But hey, you put in the work, so you should be proud of yourself, just like how much I’m proud of you.” I couldn’t help but grin as I patted her silky head to her utter delight.

I remembered the first time she asked for a recipe, out of nowhere, her voice gruff and awkward like she was embarrassed to even bring it up. Back then, she’d brushed it off with some excuse about how she was bored and wanted to try something new…But I knew her better than that.

She’d never outright said it, but I’d pieced it together. Nina wasn’t just learning to cook for the hell of it…It was because I loved cooking and because Camila loved it, too.

You see, deep down, Nina didn’t want to be the odd one out. She wanted to be part of those kitchen conversations, those little moments where recipes and kitchen disasters became inside jokes. She wanted to belong, to contribute, to be someone who could surprise me with a homemade dish.

And more than that—she wanted to make me proud. To see me smile at something she’d created from a hobby that I particularly enjoyed was so freaking sweet to think about.

I then took another look at Nina’s ravishing face, the way she was sneaking glances at me, eyes shimmering with barely hidden hope. She didn’t ask for praise out loud, but her entire body—the way she stood, the way she held her breath—was practically begging for it.

I smiled, warmth blooming in my chest. “Hey…” I said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “…You did an amazing job. Seriously. I’m proud of you, my adorable little sapling.”

Her breath stopped for a second, and for a moment, she didn’t move. Then, a slow, shy smile spread across her face, so radiant it made my heart skip. She looked away, trying to hide the blush that crept up to her ears.

“It’s…It’s no big deal.” She mumbled. She then continued saying as she looked up at me, “I-It’s just that…That I didn’t want to be the only one left out. You’re so good at cooking, and even Camila makes it look easy, so I figured if I didn’t learn, I’d be stuck eating instant noodles forever.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen. I’d cook for you every day if it came down to it.” I laughed, shaking my head.

She glanced at me, her expression softening.

“I know. But…I wanted to be able to make something for you, too. Like, if you’re ever having a rough day, I want to be the one who surprises you with something nice.”

Something in my chest tightened at her sincerity. I reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as I said, “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

Her blush deepened, and she looked away, fidgeting with her phone. “Don’t get used to it. I still mess up, like, a lot. Remember the cookies that I was making that turned into something harder than a rock?”

“Oh yeah…I remember getting six panicked calls in fifteen minutes over that one.” I chuckled.

“Don’t remind me! I swear, I thought I’d never get it right.” She groaned, covering her face with her hands.

“But you did.” I said, my voice soft with admiration. “And now look at you—making cakes that look like they belong in a bakery window.”

“You really think so? You really think that they look that nice?” She peeked at me through her fingers, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

“Absolutely…If you had a bakery of your own, I’d visit every day and buy your entire stock.” I said, my eyes holding hers. “And it’s not just about the cake, Nina. It’s the fact that you tried so hard, even when it wasn’t easy…You kept going, and that means more to me than anything.”

Her breath caught for just a second, and she leaned into me, resting her head on my shoulder. She didn’t say anything, but the way she clung to my side told me how much that simple praise meant to her. It wasn’t the cake she cared about. It was this—this quiet moment of feeling seen, appreciated.

“Don’t stop now. I expect more of these masterpieces.” I smiled, brushing a kiss against the top of her head.

“Masterpieces, huh? Now you’ve set the bar too high.” She snorted, a spark of mischief returning to her eyes.

“Nah, I’m confident. With how much hard work you put into things, you’ll definitely make it.” I grinned, brushing a thumb over her knuckles.

Her eyes widened for a second, like she hadn’t expected the genuine compliment. Then her expression melted into one of pure happiness, a soft glow lighting up her face. She leaned into me, snuggling into my arm with a satisfied little hum.

The warmth of her cheek pressed against me, her fingers gently curling around my wrist. It was the kind of innocent affection that made my heart thud a little harder in my chest.

For a moment, I just enjoyed the peace, her warmth against mine, the rhythmic sway of her breathing.

But of course I also had to think about my own life that was hanging on the line, so I decided to disturb the moment we were having and spout out a story to make her willing to complete the request herself.